New Zealand South Island

Imagine the most scenic parts of rural Britain stiched together into one glorious  patchwork. Make the mountains three times as high and the lakes twice as blue. Raise the temperature by a few degrees, reduce the population by ninety eight percent and you have created the south island of New Zealand.
However my first impressions were unfavourable. Christchurch is still a mess of building sites five years after it's big earthquake. Riding up to the Southern  Alps I saw six cycle tourists (in my four weeks in Australia I only saw five) and my first view of Lake Tekapo was through throngs of Asian tourists. I quickly rode on to the next lake - beside which was free camping - only to find the site filled with fifty camper vans lined up along the shore. New Zealand felt like a theme park.
However the next day I had the best day's riding ever. Following the "Alps to Ocean" cycle trail I escaped the tourists and found the stunning Lake Ohau, with a flat, fast, flowing path tracking it's southern edge. Then a climb and descent gave big views over the mountain ranges. (See pic. 1).
South Island is very hilly. On one descent I hit 83 kph (52 mph).  The bike felt rock steady. The flat Otago Central Rail Trail is very popular. I was tempted to wild camp there but it is illegal throughout New Zealand now, the fine is $200 (£100)  so I prefer to stay at small official sites with just a few other campers. Even bettér is to stay with a local. A lovely couple from Dunedin offered to put me up, but it wasn't on my route. Instead I stayed  with a friend of a friend who is a legend in the area for his hospitality to travellers.
My plans to ride up the west coast were blown away by the forecast of storms. So I headed north by a more sheltered route, determined to do one big cycle trail before leaving South Island. My preferred path was closed as recent rain had caused landslides so I opted for the 120 mile Molesworth Muster Trail without doing any research on it.
Isolation  is a double edged emotion. High on the old cattle drovers track I enjoyed being in the midst of a vast mountain wildnerness. The sky was blue, the route was clear, what could possibly go wrong? I ate my lunch at the official campsite then set off for another camping ground I had been told about. Soon grey clouds covered the peaks and the forecast tail wind was actually a head wind, the weather forecast wasn't right. I didn't want to be trapped up here in a storm. I rode and rode but there was no campsite, no houses, no other vehicles.  I felt very isolated. As it grew dark I found a farmstead and knocked on the door, the lights were on but there was no reply. At the next farmstead I could see the occupants cooking supper. I asked if I could camp in their field, she replied, "No, you can stay in our cottage ". It was the loveliest old road builders house with bedroom, bathroom and kitchen. Due to ravanous hunger I ate virtually all my food for dinner and breakfast, There was bound to be somewhere to eat in the 40 miles to the nearest town. There wasn't, just hills and headwind. In three weeks in New Zealand I have lost four kilos. Soon I'll be light enough to ride in the Tour de France.
Now I am camping in the garden of a youth hostel by the Marlborough sounds. The building  is the old school house where Lord Ernest Rutherford (the atomic bloke) went to school.  New Zealand hs retained many of many old wooden buildings from its mining and farming and pioneering  past. On the roads you see plenty of interesting old cars. People seem content with how things are and in no mad rush to embrace modernity. There is a relaxed, friendly, generous attitude. I like it here, I could live here.

The Alps to Ocean cycle track.

I have been doing a lot of camping

High in the mountains, miles from anywhere  and anyone

I was getting desperate for somewhere to stay, when a kind lady (Pip) let me stay in this cottage

New Zealand  - good for reflecting

Domesticity of a long distance cyclist

I am sitting in a shady park in Sydney. My tent and both pairs of shoes are drying over a childrens' climbing frame. Jets fly low overhead and that makes me happy.  I am near the airport, I fly to New Zealand this evening. The kiwis have strict bio security rules, so I have disinfected and washed my gear.
My route down the east coast of Australia has been mesmerising. In my last blog I wrote about the rainforests and wildlife. Since then I have travelled through unspoilt country towns then bypassed Brisbane by riding into the hills and mountains of the Great Dividing Range. This was a vast landscape of forests and pasture, almost devoid of people but loud with birds and insects. The sky was blue, the sun was hot but the land was green after recent rains. It was blissful tranquility.
I had a choice of staying on the Great Dividing Range onto the Blue Mountains, or riding by the surf beaches and over the Sydney Harbour Bridge. I chose the seaside route as a heatwave was forecast (it is 35c in the west of Sydney today). The riding was great. The coast is a patchwork of lakes, inlets, estuaries, forests and expensive seaside towns. On a ferry across one beautiful inlet I chatted to a local couple, as we disembarked they said "You've arrived, this is Sydney". Ten miles later I was crossing the iconic Harbour Bridge. Another leg over. I will be sad to leave, there is so much to do and see that I haven't seen or done.
When you are cycle touring you rarely know where you will be staying the night. In the morning the thought doesn't bother me but as the afternoon wears on it dominates my thinking. Now there are apps for a smartphone that tells you about nearby hostels and campsites. Australian camp grounds are normally quite luxurious with well equiped kitchens and covered rest areas where you can watch tv or read. My favourite have been the pubs and cafes that let you camp free in their grounds. Then I can spend the money I save on a slap up dinner.
Surprises still happen. One day I was sweltering on the road, a couple flagged me down and offered to put me up for the night, he was a Doctor and his accomadation had stunning views over the pacific.
I do miss wild camping, being next to nature is really restful and there is always the chance of seeing unusual birds or animals. On the long, multi day bike trails in New Zealand I will pitch my tent in the wilderness. Adventure awaits.

Crossing Sydney Harbour Bridge on the cycle lane

The hills behind Brisbane

Pelican feeding time, town just north of Sydney