A brief account of the past week since Chirstmas, strictly by the numbers,
in no particular order:
187: inches of rain. Okay, that is a false number, but the rain was epic. Biblical, even.
36: hours, at least, of rain.
2: big, badass glaciers I could not hike to because of said rain.
3: infrared sauna sits I sat in place of glacier-hiking.
3: whiskey drinks consumed while waiting for said rain to cease.
950: kilometers driven.
80: dollars it costs to fill up Gina with gas.
30: kilometers of drive-time spent worrying Gina would run out of gas.
80: kilometers hiked on the Heaphy Track.
40: of those kilometers hiked on the last day of the year.
1: live possum seen lurking in the dark.
43: dead possums on the road.
200: steps it takes to get across your average Indiana Jones trail swing-bridge.
16: number of inches of creek water an industrious shuttle-van driver was willing to ford.
2178: estimated sandfly bites. I look diseased.
100: estimated number of times the word "glorious!" was shouted.
Oh sure... send us lovely photos of hot spring soaks but nothing when it comes to a glimpse of the diseased. cheap skate.
ReplyDeletehehehe. The West Coast man, it's wet! Bummer you didn't get a good day to do the glaciers as that's a NZ highlight. But sounds like you managed to meet every sandfly in NZ. Nasty buggers, ain't they!
ReplyDelete