One big playground

Today we have to say bye to New Zealand. Our hearts are bleeding and our pants are tighter than ever, but it's time to move on to Australia. Before flying to Melbourne, I'll try to explain our last week in NZ without you noticing how fat we're getting and how many deodorant showers we're having. Dunedin. Harder to pronounce than you think. An evening picnic in the car and sleeping at a viewpoint over the port make us sound pretty gypsy. But we made that right with hot cinnamon pinwheels and great cappuccinos in the morning. Road trip along the East Coast was great. We found a nice camp spot near Moeraki, where overtiredness made us do aerobics like mad women in our huge garden. Fun times. Oamaru. Even harder to pronounce but oh so lovely. We secretly fell in love with Oamaru. It's an old little town where men wear suits and there is a whiskey museum, a hat maker and a crazy gallery attic all in one street. And men wear suits. Lyttelton. The wonderful little brother of Christchurch. You have to drive through a mountain to get there and your leg muscles will grow like a body builder if you take a walk around town. Steep streets, a beautiful port and cool bars in garages. I like this place. Christchurch. Our last stop in NZ. A true labyrinth with piles of dust and what is left of the city after the earthquake two years ago. Shops and bars moved to coloured containers, live music is playing and the sun is shining. We have a bit of a festival feeling while walking around the container mall. A nice and colourful way to restore the city center, little by little. New Zealand, you have been awesome.

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