If our tour had to have a brief interlude, why not take it when we’re literally out to sea? Sitting aboard the Blueridge ferry, there’s a café about three metres bow of me (is that how ship directions work? Cause if so I certainly let loose from my stern an hour or so ago). We’re on a pretty severe port tilt, as in we’re leaning heavily towards that side. Consequently I was feeling a little under the weather (currently a cross between sunny and overcast) and sought to remedy my malady. According to the handy vomit bag dispenser, there are a few potential solutions. Frequent sipping of water or ice chips works. Apparently some people speak highly of ginger as a natural remedy (the ship of course was quick to point out the ginger tea/ginger beer easily purchasable on board). It’s a good call to look outside the boat, towards the horizon, rather than reading or focusing on a screen (so basically the opposite of what I’m doing right now. The option I tried, to pretty great effect, was to plug one ear with an earplug. I’m not sure exactly why this works, assuming it has something to do with the effect of sound on our balance. In any case, despite the savage left lean this ferry has going on, I feel all right.
This might be the earliest entry I’ve done so far this trip (it’s just before 10am), but I’ve got valid incentive. Come 1pm, after we land at Picton and get picked up (as opposed to picked on, geddit?), we’re heading off to Blenheim to go on a wine tour. I’ve been wanting to try a wine tour for years. There’s something about the intersection of classiness and utter depravity that appeals to me on a base level. We can pretend to be swanky as, while downing sample after sample, gradually devolving to a reptilian drunken state (or at least become legless as snakes). More importantly, we’ll garner a bunch of pretentious ways to describe wine. We’ll be able to wank on about tannins (sp?), citric notes and refreshing effervescence to our hearts’ content. Maybe they’ll even serve us some port for a thematic link.
Tomorrow will also mark a turning point in the journey. So far we’ve been preciously perched in the lap of luxury, lapping at the luck that’s come our way. We’ve had full fridges in warm houses complete with soft, comfortable beds. Tomorrow we’ll be on the road, mere canvas and zips sheltering us from the night sky. The beds will be traded in for an air mattress and sleeping bags, pillows composed of clothes stuffed into sleeping bag cases. My daily shampoo and conditioning will be more of a part time ritual as I grow used to wearing the same singlet day after day. Maybe I’ll even go commando. To be honest, I’m not sure I’ve ever travelled the countryside camping the whole way. It’s gonna be a choice experience where I no doubt have to confront my city slicker sensibilities in a series of madcap misadventures. Or else I’ll accidentally impale myself on a tent pole day one and skip straight to my meeting with the goddess. So it goes.
Come at me bro! Onwards! Adventure!