Don't mess with the security!

ထုတ်ဝေခဲ့သည်။: 14.03.2017

The alarm clock rings at 6 o'clock. Breakfast, brushing teeth, folding the bed and departure. It takes us just under 45 minutes to get to Picton, where the ferry leaves at 9 o'clock. We are pleased that the sea is supposed to be only moderate, as neither of us has necessarily drawn attention to ourselves in the past due to our stable seafarer's stomach.

Two hours later, when we both struggle with nausea, we don't want to imagine what a rough crossing would have looked like.

We reach Wellington at midday. Already on the ferry we checked the weather forecast for the next few days and realized that we should not pack our rain jacket too deep in the backpack. Because of the weather, we are throwing our plans overboard. We have decided that we want to enjoy the (still shining) sun on this day instead of sitting in the car.

We decide on a small place near Wellington. Kitchen, free shower, Wi-Fi, green parking space. Sounds good. So let's go there. We check in at the reception. The owner of the place quickly proves to be the quirkiest kiwi we have met so far. The 80-year-old, somewhat listless looking old man hands us the Wi-Fi code over the counter after payment. We ask about the kitchen, while he mumbles the answer into his non-existent beard, he closes the sliding window and signals to us that the conversation is over for him. Before the gap closes completely, he unambiguously informs us that we should please obey the rules of the security, which regularly watches over the place in the evenings.

With this information he leaves us slightly confused in front of the closed window.

We find a nice spot, lie in the sun and almost forget about the conversation. Sudden engine noise startles us. It seems that the security has gathered for their first patrol. Interested, we turn our heads and laughingly realize that the security does not consist of a group of muscular ruthless guys, but that the old grouch has slowly rolled his rickety car from his office to the pitch. With a mixture of a cool sheriff's gaze and a casual pose (one arm hanging out of the window), he critically eyes the parked campers. To our delight, this procedure is repeated every three hours! :) It's a good thing we were warned about the security!