The Void Of The Open Road

Time to return to Christchurch!

The drive from Dunedin got off to a very late start (7:30 p.m.). At one point, I stopped at McDonald's, tried to make three right hand turns to get back on the one-way street out of town, and ended up squarely in a police breathalyzer roadblock. The foot patrolman stuck something right in my face:

Police: Sir, please count from one to five...Sir, please don't stop the car, but please count from one to .... PLEASE! SIR! Do not put your mouth on the device! Please count from one to five...one to five sir, please count from one to ....
Marc: Oh, now I get it! One...two...
Police: Please count from one to five...THERE! The readout shows "no alcohol". That's what we like to see!

So, it was about 8:45 p.m. by the time I actually got on Highway 1 and started traveling up the east coast.

Bleak. Dark. Reminded me of the bleak roads of the western Nevada desert between Yerington and Minden, where you end up behind pokey trucks, where speed limits drop to near-zero in every little town, and where trucks outnumber cars. Remarkably few people on the road. I guess it's true what they say about New Zealand....more sheep than people, especially at night.

After a few wrong turns in Diamond Harbour, I finally snuck into Andrew's house at 1:30 a.m., and collapsed into sleep.