Dunedin

So, I've made it from Alexandra to Dunedin. Along the way, I rode on a 15km stretch of the Otago Rail Trail, and ended up camping in a little shelter along the way so I didn't have to set up my tent. The rail trail is a bike path (gravel, not sealed) along the former route of the railway, running more or less parallel to the main highway. I got woken up by sheep nosing around thee outside of my little hut, and flew into Ranfurly with a strong tailwind, and a gentle downward gradient. After that, I went by the road called the "Pig Root" (which makes even less sense than "Pig Route"). It was hilly, and raining the whole time. And, finally, I got a flat just as I got to the top of a horrible hill, looking forward to a nice, long, downhill (note for aspiring cycle-tourists/bike riders: flats always happen in the rain, and when you're at your furthest point away from civilisation). But, as I was merrily trudging along down the hill, with rain pouring down, clad in a raincoat which magically makes the wearer wetter than if they weren't wearing it, someone stops their car and offers me a place to stay for the night! That was very nice. The next day, they even gave me a ride into Palmerston, the nearest town, maybe 15kms away. They were going to the annual Palmerston A&P show (they parade cows around, and things like that, I think). I headed into Warrington, a small seaside town where I stayed with a family friend. He has a hedge which is about 25 feet tall, and it's hollowed out near the bottom to make a little shed. What's more, you can even climb up the inside of the hedge and get a magnificent view from the top! Aside from this, I also helped with various tasks, including some gardening things, and spending a day cutting a path through thick gorse to a patch of native bush at the bottom of the valley. Gorse is a horrible plant, with spines an inch long, and it completely takes over.
Next, I moved on to Dunedin, the city where I was born. I've been staying at the Dunedin Holiday Park mostly, but packing everything up onto my bike each day in case I decide to leave city on a whim. Except for one dark and stormy Saturday night, when I felt particularly disgruntled about paying $14 for a patch of grass for my tent. So, under the cover of darkness, I stole onto the golf course just behind the holiday park, setting up my tent underneath a copse of trees. I cooked some sausages, and was about to go to sleep, when: Oh SHIT! The sprinklers turned on. It was mostly just the shock of being blasted with freezing water in the middle of the night, but I hurridly jumped in my tent. Thankfully, I had the fly up, so it was really just like an unexpected rainshower.
But, the fun wasn't over yet. As it was Saturday night, which I had failed to realise, all of the hoons were out en masse, being drunk and loud and zooming around in their abnormally loud cars. So, I spent the majority of the night trying to decide whether they were getting closer, louder, or (probably) both at the same time. When the noise finally dropped off around 4.30am, I snatched a couple hours of sleep--only to be woken at 7am by a curious Swish...Thwack! noise which seemed to repeat at rather odd intervals. Of course, it was Sunday, and people were out for an early-morning round of golf to start their day. The golfers must have been rather surprised to see a person on a fully-loaded touring bicycle dart out from beneath the trees halfway through hole sixteen. So, needless to say, I've been staying at the holiday park since.
Yesterday, I got my busking license from the Dunedin City Council. Busking, for those who don't know, is the art of looking pitiful and performing on the street so that people give you money. I hope to give it a go once I am done here on the computer. I'll be playing my Tin Whistle. I've been scouring the library for sheet music, in order to expand my repertoire, and have a few new songs to learn as a result. "Wayfaring Stranger" is one I felt was appropriate. Well, this is it from me for the moment.