Day 1...Let the hitchhiking begin!

So I set off on the Cougarline through the Sounds back to Picton. To my dismay, I yet again do not see any dolphins or orca (I lied earlier when I said I saw them  swim by at the wharf ). I am the only staff member who has never seen them. I did see plenty in Paihia over the summer though so I can’t be greedy. Instead I chatted away to Fred, the lovely skipper and cooed over newly born baby Lilly. On arrival in Picton, I lug my case to the road going to Blenheim so I can get my hitchhike on. Since the primary roads in NZ are like secondary roads in other, more highly populated countries, hitch-hiking is still a very popular and accepted form of travel (well among backpackers anyway). Yes there are dangers, but I say man up and get the thumb out! (excuse the pun). It has great pros – meeting people with useful local, knowledge on where you are going, costs virtually nothing (I always offer to contribute to petrol but it’s never accepted), it allows you to get to the little nooks and crannies of the country the crappy buses don’t bring you to and overall it’s a great laugh. My rules are;

-don’t hitch after dark

-keep your phone on view so it’s obvious you are in contact with people

-Have an excuse if you need to bail

-Don’t get into the car with someone intoxicated by alcohol...(drugs are fine...obviously). 

So I have my thumb out for approximately 1.7 seconds when I am picked up by a young couple named Sadie and Billy. They drop me at Main Street in Blenheim and I proceed to make my way to Jacks Backpackers, which I learn is a twenty minute walk and it is boiling! And I have a ridiculously heavy bag...nope not a backpack....and yes I have tried to get rid of stuff but it’s all my winter snowboarding stuff...I swear) . The reason I’m staying at Jacks is because when I was trekking the Queen Charlotte last week, I met Wayne, a 40 year old Kiwi guy with very little teeth, lots of tattoos and some brand of kiwi accent I could barely understand. But he seemed like fun and told me to stay at his backpackers in Blenheim. So I looked up Jacks online a few days later but found very little – just a phone number that didn’t work and nothing else. So I eventually found it on High Street and got a bit of a fright. It was a small run-down (looking almost derelict) building with the front door boarded up. I peered in the side window to see a dull, dusty room with a few things thrown about the place. Charming. On knocking there was no answer. So I ramble across the road to the dairy and ask is the ‘backpacker’ still in existence. The lady tells me to go around the back and when I do I am welcomed by some pot-smoking, dread-locked hippies. When I go inside I am met by organised mess and a carpet that hasn’t been hoovered in a few months. The ‘reception’ appears now to be an open store room. The kitchen is messy but clean, I decide (and hope). And suddnely out of the murky shadowns appears Wayne who gives me a hug and a warm welcome. ‘It’s not a palace, but it does the trick’, he says. I ask him can I borrow a bike as I have to be in Mahi winery by 3pm. You’re not cycling there, he tells me, I’ll drive you. Awesome!

We arrive at what looks like a house but it’s the correct address on trusty google maps so I wave Wayne goodbye and set off for some wine-tasting. I am meeting Brian, the owner of Mahi wines who was one of our suppliers at Furneaux . I tweeted him and he got back to me telling me to come visit. Noice! Malborough wine country’s Sauvignon Blanc single-handedly put the New Zealand wine industry on the world map, and made this the country’s largest wine region with almost sixty percent of the national grape crop. The region, sheltered by the protective hills of the Richmond range, basks in about 2400 hours of sunshine a year making it perfect for ripening the grapes for its esteemed Sauvignon. (Thanks Lonely Planet). So it turns out that yep, this is just a house with nobody in. I pop next door the Isabell winery and am sent in the right direction. While I am walking, I’m admiring the sprawling vineyards. The sun is blazing and the autumn colours are amazing against a backdrop of the mountains. 

After 5 minutes an awesome, vintage, white mercedes pulls up and a happy, friendly man gets out, kisses me on the cheek saying ‘you must be Yvonne!’...’so sorry, google really fucked up there – that was my house you were at!’. The nice girl at Isabell had called to say I was on my way. So we drive to Mahi, Brian shows me around inside, grabs a few bottles of wine and takes me outside to bask in the sunshine overlooking the vineyard and the mountains. He starts telling me about his small winery, how they specialise in handpicking and single vineyards and how his wines are made without any of the ‘shit’ that’s put in so many other wines. He tells me how to ‘taste’ and what I should be looking for and we gayly (no other way to put it) gulp back some delicious savvy, pinot gris, chardonnay and pinot noir. He then shows me around inside where the wine actually gets made. There are these beyond massive metallic vaults and he tells me to put my head inside and smell. I nearly pass out it’s so strong. Still, I wouldn’t mind having one of these full of wine in my house! (Think of the parties). Brian is a right character. He tells me many a story of parties he has had entertaining clients in the winery, and the mischief people have got up to (including some people feeling like they need to express their love to eachother wedged in between the vaults...as you do!) After a full show around, we go outside to enjoy the sun go down and drink wine with two of the employees. More chats and I am bid farewell with a bottle of savvy in my hand. Brian, you are a legend! Unfortunately this winery isn’t open for public tastings so I got a right treat. To pay for something like that with a free bottle of wine would probably cost at least 100 bucks. I get a lift back to Jacks, the palace, and find Wayne cooking a few of us dinner. Just throw me a dollar for the veggies mate, he says! I ask him what I owe him for my bed tonight and he shrugs it off, ‘this ones on the house’! Seriously? Could this day get any better? We eat, drink wine and watch the simpsons and I have an early night. Bliss!