Christchurch to Greymouth
We have a quick breakfast of cereal and instant motel coffee, pack our bags ready for our first road trip later on and then head out in pursuit of a real coffee. We slowly meander towards the Riverside Markets and comment on how quiet it is for a Monday in the big city. We reach a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop with a line up - always a good sign. While the gang orders some coffees, Courts is drawn to the little bakery next door. She orders a savoury scone (a heavy, yet fluffy scone full of cheese) and a sausage roll. The scone is big enough to share amongst our gang of 4 and Courts knows this will not be the last scone of the trip.
We wander over to the nearby river to drink our coffee and are joined by a duck and her brood of ducklings. Jeff and Courts are more enamoured with them than our nearly 3 year old travelling companion is. Between the scones and the ducklings, Christchurch is really turning it on for us.
We meander back to the rocket ship (which our large and in charge people mover has been affectionately named by our littlest traveller) and hit the road. First stop is of course to a lookout so we can get a view of the city, a must do in every new city or town. We get our first taste of some chilly weather up there and quickly don the coats and gloves. We see some hikers and runners up there amongst the sheep (naturally) and note a sign for an ultramarathon. Definitely worse places to sweat your ass off.
We jump back in the rocket ship and blast off to pick up some snow chains, required by law for some places we'll be heading later on the trip. We drive for a bit and decide its time for the obligatory small-town-road-trip-pie-stop. We are not in luck as we are late for lunch with only one pie left. We have a quick fight over it and three of us end up with sandwiches instead. We drive a bit more and stop at Arthurs Pass to check the view , as well as the little town and we see the elusive (endangered) Kea, yay!
We make it to our destination for the night, Greymouth. This is a small town (pop 14,000ish), where a couple of our friends grew up in (one of them which we are travelling with). The pub is on the beach, but not the type of beaches we're accustomed to in Australia. The beach itself is covered in rocks and pebbles and the water looks choppy as hell. Even Jeff is thinking it might be a bit much for him. So he grows a moustache instead.
Our friend is catching up with some family at the local pub for dinner, so we're staying at the accommodation conveniently attached to it. We meet the family, have a hearty pub feed and unhealthy hearty dessert and then hit the hay.
