Relaxing in Picton

When I told some of my Kiwi friends that Mom and I were going to take the ferry to Picton, they all assumed that we would then be going somewhere more interesting from there. Picton is seen as the place where the ferry drops you off so that you can go to the places on the South Island you actually want to visit.

Well, we decided that the ferry ride itself was the actual goal of our trip, and that we weren't interested in spending time or money getting somewhere else once we'd arrive in Picton. We had from about 12:00 on Saturday to about 2:00 on Sunday, and we were confident that we could very pleasantly pass that time in Picton. In fact, given our love of reading and enjoyment of doing word puzzles together, we really could have pleasantly passed that time almost anywhere, but as it turns out, Picton offered plenty of its own amusements. 

This was our first view of Picton. Pretty nice, I'd say. 

Picton is a town of about 3,000 people, which clearly centres around the people who travel on the ferry. Mom's search for a hotel turned up over 40 results right off the bat, which is heaps for such a small town, and I'm sure there are lots more that weren't on that particular site.

We had quite a good laugh about booking hotels, actually. Mom had the good sense to remember that we wouldn't have a vehicle, and so wanted to check the distance from the ferry to the hotel, to make sure it was reasonable to walk. Turns out, you could walk every street in the town in about 15 minutes, so we didn't really have to pick our hotel based on location.

This is the view from our balcony - you can actually see our cruise ship in the bay, although it doesn't look as colossal as it really is. Also, don't get excited about the pool - it is "seasonally" heated, which we assumed would mean that now, in the dead of winter, it would be warm. No. It is heated in the summer and left to be freezing in the winter, so we did not go swimming.

We were wondering why this bridge was so steep, and I was ready to be accept that it was simply for aesthetics, but Mom wisely reasoned that it was so that boats could get under it to sail into the marina. It seems so obvious now that she's said it. 

We strolled through some absolutely fabulous local artisan shops, filled with stunningly beautiful and surprisingly affordable creations. Mom bought the most fantastic fingerless gloves I've ever seen, of which I really should have taken a picture. Also, I bought some beautiful tea towels to replace the crappy ones we bought when we got here, intending to replace them as soon as we were settled in. Almost three years later, we are still using them, so I guess it was about time to get some nicer ones.

The man at a charming used book store recommended a hike along a little path by the harbour, which I was delighted to discover was one I'd seen from the ferry and said, "We should walk there!" I love life's little coincidences.

This was one of many beautiful views from that path.

When we woke up the next morning, this was the view (from the other side of our room) over the marina. In real life, the water looked like a smooth, silver pane of glass, with the boats hovering impossibly over the top.

Mom and I sat on the outdoor patio of a restaurant on the bay and looked out over it. I love the many layers of hills.

We did another hike on Sunday, this one to a hilltop lookout over the bay. It was a bit rough and root-filled as far as paths go, but we enjoyed it.

We did not, in fact, ever find the official "Hilltop Lookout" marked on the map, but when we started going down the other side of the hill, we decided we must have passed it, and turned around. We decided, upon being blown away by the beauty of this view, that this must be the lookout. We'll take it.

This palm tree and its five friends are the charming gatekeepers of the harbour area, around which Mom and I wandered before catching the ferry back to Wellington. Also, notice the wonderful layering in the background. Amazing.

By far the best part of our wanderings, and maybe of the whole trip (and possibly of my whole life) was when we met two girls, around nine years old, exploring a rocky section of beach. As we were passing them, we heard one squeal, "I found a BIG one!" Well, that is a statement that has to be investigated, so we climbed down over the rocks to the beach and I asked, "What did you find? Can I see?" The two girls, without one second's hesitation, delightedly explained that they were looking for crabs (and anything else of interest) and had found a big one. Even better, said crab was determinedly holding onto a stick, clinging to it even as it was lifted from the beach and carefully placed into a seashell. The girls comfortably chatted to us about other things they found, rescued an itty-bitty fish that had somehow gotten too far up the beach, and even found the tiniest starfish any of us I'd ever seen! 

Best of all, when we had to say good bye and head to the ferry, one of the girls smiled up at us and said, "Now, when you come back, you'll know the best place to find crabs!" I was so overwhelmed by their openness and abundant enjoyment of life that I almost didn't know what to say. I wish that more children could spend their childhoods looking for crabs and welcoming strangers as partners in their delight in the world around them.