First of all, the ENTIRE bus was covered in upholstery. Only the windows were spared the blue and purple carpeting. Secondly, the trip was narrated by our driver, Bernard (which was pronounced BERnerd, of course). I am pretty sure that he was actually working for the NZ immigration department, for, after telling us the history of Christchurch (founded by an Oxford man, of course), he went on to explain the great welfare system, health care system, auto system... and then gave us the government website for all things New Zealand, pointing out it was alphabetized, and I is the most important letter, for immigration. (But, let me tell you, it wouldn't be so bad to live over here. Or so it seems at the moment while the exchange rate is about 2:1, and it is summer!) In fact, after listening to his NZ plugs, I felt as inspired as after hearing Kenneth Brannagh give his St. Crispin's Day speech in Henry V. Yea, rah! Go New Zealand! CHARGE!!!
The bus went through a number of small towns (including Ashford, which boasts the world's largest spinning wheel factory) in the plains before coming into the mountains. I'm not sure of the range we are in here at Lake Tekapo, but the Southern Alps are in the distance, and they are pretty spectacular. (I'm heading there in a few hours.)
Guess that's it for now...
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