The sky was pink behind the snow capped mountains, a band of cloud hovering around waist level. The water was still, reflecting the sky. The ducks were calling, and then a black swans swam by, with a little baby – a shabby white, following. The morning was peaceful and beautiful. Lake Rotoroa.
Today saw a steep grunt over a small shoulder and then a trip following another river down. There was even 4 water crossings, shin deep.
Today was a tranquil meander along the backroad to Murchison – the only town for 80km, and the only town I’d see for days. I stopped, ate, drunk and charged my external batteries.
I saw the Germans again at the camping ground at the start of the Old Ghost Road and had a nice dinner together before a very early evening.
I also saw a weka – a New Zealand bird that always fossicks around. It even steals socks. I hear. My smelly socks were banished into the tent.
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