We're on the big ferry boat in Picton harbour, after just polishing off a big fish & chips (and yoghurt). Good fish. Okay chips. We had better last night. Then again, those were "buffalo wedges" which had zero of the kick of buffalo sauce proper. Oof. I'm full. No more potatoes, okay?
We watched the second quarter of the Super Bowl. Indy is only ahead of the Bears by two, but sure looked stronger a lot. Outside, Alaska is turning into Greece.
Out into the Cook Strait. Goodbye, South Island. Naptime for Chunlin. ... Hydrangeas growning wild on the West Coast. A penguin-crossing sign on the West Coast. A tidal flooding sign in the Catlins that wasn't just a temporary warning, but a permanent fixture of the road. Terribly narrow and curvy road going out the Otago Peninsula. There was barely enough room for the car in the lane. And if a bus was coming the other direction, it's white-knuckle time. No guardrail, either. Just the bay ten feet down. Lots of one-lane bridges. One direction is always marked with the right-of-way. Blue skies all over the place despite reports of rain and clouds. Oh, well, sure. It rained on us on the Kepler Track, but it got sunny that day, too. Locals with thick accents who don't slow down when you don't understand the first time. Chunlin doesn't like the Kiwi accent. Too harsh for her ears. ... 2.5 megameters so far. And we didn't even drive yesterday.
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