Day 18 Arrowtown to Macetown, 13km, 3 hours 30 minutes

I really quick easy day for me today. To be honest it's felt like as much of a holiday day as a tramping day.

I eschewed the official trail over a hill to take the easy way up the Arrow River. It's pretty spectacular country, and with easy walking was another sandal day.

You may have noticed I haven't taken those photos myself. That's because I walked the first half of the day with my friends Hamish and Janine (and somewhat reluctant kids.... ah, memories of home!) for the first half of the day, before Hamish and kids turned for home, Janine accompanying me through to Macetown as training for a Rogaine.








Today was the first day tramping with the new pack. A successful day - it definitely takes more load from my shoulders onto my waist than the old pack. The real test will be the next couple of days though.

From Macetown I could have pushed another 5 hours on to the first of the Motatapu huts, but decided to take it easy, with a view to a big next 2 days instead. I've heard good things about Macetown and liked the look of it, so decided to pitch tent here for the night, within a couple of meters of the bubbling Arrow River (don't worry Karen, I'm also at least a meter above it). It once supported 300 gold and quartz miners, and there are many relics of its past, some restored.


There followed a leisurely day of reading and movie watching, interspersed with many trips to the thigh high river for a dip. It was a really enjoyable afternoon, which assuaged my guilt somewhat in not walking the afternoon.

I have Macetown all to myself, the first time I have been on my own since the walk started, and I'm now approaching a third of the way through. I was feeling pretty lonely in my tent, I guess having just come from family life with Hamish and Janine's family for the past couple of days doesn't help in this respect, but nevertheless am enjoying my own company well enough. Thoughts of home sweet home sustain me.

I'd heard horrendous things about the sandflies at Macetown. There were a few, of the type that really hurt when they bite, but nothing unmanageable.... until dusk that is, when legions appeared, with me as their only target. I had to break off chatting with a SOBO who has done the whole country in little more than 2 months, to cloister myself off in my tent, where fortunately I am untouchable. The sound of them landing on my fly at one stage had me convinced that the forecast rain was in the offing. If nothing else it teaches good bladder control - each foray out of the tent is accompanied by several minutes of sandfly assassinations when I get back in the tent.