I have a late breakfast, pack my stuff and leave my bags with the hotel while I walk across town to collect the hire car. The sun is hot and bright again, and once I have the keys, I put the air-con on maximum and relish the icy blast on my face. I head tortuously back to the hotel and load up all my bags (my main luggage bag, snowboard bag, backpack for the laptop, snowboarding pack). I decide to hit the South Island tonight rather than tomorrow, but it's too late to get an Interislander ticket from the kiosk in the train station, so I drive to the ferry terminal, buy my ticket and receive instructions to be back around 17:15. That gives me two hours, so I decide to check out some possible apartments around the Hutt Valley. Nothing much excites me though, and it's a depressing drive around, looking at places that I don't like.
So it's with some relief that I point the car back towards the Interislander terminal and, 20 minutes later, take my place in the queue. There's a delay unloading the ferry before we board, so we set off almost forty minutes late - by the time we arrive in the South Island, it will already be nearly 10pm. But the journey across the Cook Strait is smooth and, arriving in Picton, I fill the car with petrol, buy a couple of bottles of water, and I'm ready to go. In my last trip to the South Island, I went down the East Coast, to Kaikoura and Christchurch, and then headed inland. This time, I want to see the West Coast.
It's getting late, but every hour that I drive this evening is an hour that I won't have to drive tomorrow. So I set off towards Nelson. I'm following my usual plan - know which route I'm taking, have some idea which town I'm aiming to sleep in, but be prepared to change plans. Without having a reservation, I can improvise, knowing that I can happily (and warmly) sleep in the car. So I'm relaxed enough as I drive. The roads are quiet and I'm making good progress. Unlike the previous hire car, this one has cruise control so I can set a speed on the country roads and not have the stress of creeping over the limit and being nailed by a police car. So, without a care in the world (at least for this evening) I drive along the winding Highway 6, accompanied by The Rock. It's one of the better radio stations I've found, although the reception is intermittent in this part of the country. So I frequently find myself driving through the dark accompanied by the impersonal but dependable sound of radio static. But I know the reception will come back so, rather than flick to a more soul-destroying station, I drive on with the radio hissing and crackling in the background.
The last few miles of Highway 6 into Nelson is probably fantastic in the daytime. It's pretty good at night. In the distance, I see the faint yellow glow of Nelson's streetlighting. With the road now skirting the Tasman Bay shoreline, to my right is the the Tasman Sea. It's inky black, with a subdued smear of moonlight. There are clouds in the sky so, although the moon's crescent is broad and bright, it mostly looks like a faint smudge in the darkness. It gives a strong sense of a mighty ocean, sleeping.
When I reach Nelson, it looks like I will indeed be sleeping in the car. It's very quiet now, so I drive around without seeing any signs of life until I stumble upon an illuminated motel sign. The Trailways Hotel looks good, but is fully booked. The man is helpful though, and has keys for DeLorenzo's across the road. Ten minutes later, my teeth are brushed, I've glugged another litre of water, and I'm in bed planning my itinerary for tomorrow.
