The Interislander and the Cursed Cottage.

We refilled the car (yes - more petrol-related weeping), negotiated Wellington in peak hour and located the Interisland Ferry Terminal, where we left our hire car (an unsurprisingly dusty black Nissan X-Trail) and checked our bags in. My idea of advising the check-in person we had "firry tuckuts to Pucton" was voted down.

Despite not jumping in the desperate, surging queue of passengers, we managed not only to board - but were able to locate some decent seats in the dining / Sky sports viewing area. Kwell was consumed by a couple of family members, while Josh and I checked out the sights up top.

We partook of some freshly baked scones, and I watched some fairly uneven Rugby 7s games on the nearby big screen TV.

Somewhere in the middle of Cook Strait

South Island

We docked in Picton in much sunnier conditions than we left in Wellington, and located our new car - a silver Nissan X-Trail (quite the change for us). Josh spotted a nearby playground, inclusive of a giant pirate ship and was in heaven. He was not so impressed with the fully automated public toilets that decided to reopen a smidgen early for him.

Picton

We decided to make use of Queen Charlotte Drive as our way to Nelson. It appeared a straighter line on the map (despite Google Maps desperately urging us to take the longer route south along the State Highways), and sported some lookouts on the way. Picturesque? You bet. Quicker option? Not even close. Speed was limited to an optimistic 50 km/hr and down to 30 km/hr through the tiny villages perched on the oh-so-convoluted Queen Charlotte Sound. We did manage to locate a great lookout on the way - the kids less than impressed with the bonus set of abnormally high step risers to the top.

Mahaki Paoa - Lookout and Track

Our accommodation for the next couple of nights is not in Nelson per se, but in the nearby suburb of Stepneyville. It's a bona fide historic cottage that has been painstakingly restored and then (for reasons that escape me) filled to the rafters with doilies, floral prints and porcelain dolls. The boys have the room in the attic (via a narrow stairwell/ladder structure) - home to a number of the above-mentioned dolls. Josh advised that they took the two beds down one end of the room, as the other was clearly cursed. I thought he might have been a touch melodramatic until I gazed into the deathly faces of the rooms other occupants.

The eyes follow you.

Sweet dreams.