Between Palmerston North and Bulls, New Zealand
Going drinking last night was a wonderful reacquaintance with city life. Shops, bars, public transit, streetlights — the sweet signs of a major metropolitan area. And a break from hostelling, staying at Helen’s house in Wellington, was a perfect respite.
Searching for a bar, we stopped at the Embassy Theatre, where just two weeks ago, with a massive parade, Peter Jackson, Wellington native, finally screened his heralded Lord Of The Rings film. Renovated especially for the epic features, the theatre is so popular that tickets are still sold out weeks after the premiere. But their bathrooms sure are pretty. Renovated especially for the epic Lord Of The Rings features, the Embassy Theatre is so popular that tickets are still sold out weeks after the premiere. But their bathrooms sure are pretty.
Wellington was nice, if brief, and has been my only visit to a museum on this trip. But the Te Papa Museum in Wellington was a fascinating look at New Zealand’s recent and paleontological past, with an excellent dinosaur exhibit well worth the steep entry price.
And indeed, this is the country that was so collectively bored that they invented the sport of throwing yourself off a perfectly good bridge, feet attached only to a rubber band.
In eight days on the South Island, I logged 2976.6 km behind the wheel and loved every one of them. But I traded my car for a ferry and now back on the North Island, a bus takes me toward Taupo.
