February 4, 2016 - Day 30 - Picton, New Zealand.

We arrived at Picton in the dark. I had been reading in the Lido, so l moved outside just in case. It was not a notable event. Picton, on the other hand, was very notable.

In Pahia we had been told that Picton was nothing more than a ferry stop to get to the South Island. Boy was that wrong. It is located at the end of a beautiful bay. The free shuttle took us to an information center located on the waterfront next to downtown. In a small park a block away we found the craft market. The friendly vendors all made the merchandise they sold. Just like Paihia. We had many great conversations. One lady had spent several years in Port Hedlund. This was a stop on our circumnavigation of Australia last year. We shared our experience, and she graced us with stories of the town. We finished visiting the various booths.

Picton park and harbor

Now we decided to walk around the boat harbor. A high pedestrian Bridge took us to the other side. It was steep, but worth the effort. Now we were in a neighborhood of lovely houses and gardens. As we walked we came to an old house with large grounds and spectacular gardens. As Alice took pictures, I stood and took in the aroma of the beautiful roses that fringed the garden nearest me. With several pictures we started up the hill. As we passed the house, a local man stopped to tell us that the house was the former maternity hospital. It was over a hundred years old. We went around to the front. In this garden there was a huge tomato plant guarded by a woman. She was an elaborate scarecrow in full dress. As we moved to a garden on the side of the house, a woman backing out of the driveway stopped to tell us that she lived there, and had been working on the gardens for seven years. We praised her hard work, and she drove away.

Picton yacht harbor and valley from footbridge over harbor entrance

Craft market with downtown in background

We started to walk back toward the city center. We opted not to retrace our steps, but to take the road around the harbor. This route was longer, but rewarding. We came to a harborside development, and stopped at what looked like the sales office to use the rest room. It turned out that this was a senior living community, and we had entered the dining room. The gracious man who let us use the facilities was the chef preparing lunch for the residents. There were several buildings of townhouses. Each had a view of the harbor. There were 46 units in total. He explained that he only worked there as the units were very expensive.

Former maternity hospital and senior housing complexes

As we continued our walk we saw another seniors project on the hillside across the street. It was older, but attractive. The pitfall was the steep climb to get to the scattered units. Nonetheless it too had great views. 

Soon we were back downtown. The crafter from Port Hedlund had told us to check out the public toilets. They talk to you, and play soothing music. We had to stop. Sure enough, after entering, it tells you the door will lock when you press the blue button. It then tells you that you have 10 minutes, and the music starts to play. When you wash and dry your hands the door unlocks. Of course there is a button to override this, if necessary. Alice and I met outside smiling.

Automated toilets

We walked to the main street along the waterfront and visited a gallery. We walked past a few pubs, and I noticed that my ship's bag with my iPad in it was not around my shoulder. After a moment of panic, further panic set in. I realized that I had left it on the hook in the public toilet. We rushed back, and a person coming out of the unit I had used said there was nothing inside. Woe is me! 

I had just decided to look for an attendant, when I turned around and there was a lady with a bucket coming towards me. I asked if she cleaned the toilets. Yes. Had anyone turned in a bag left by mistake? She asked me if it was a blue ship's bag and showed me her other hand. There it was. Another passenger had given it to her, and she was on her way to the police station to turn it in. We thanked her profusely, and cursed the novelty of the toilet that had caused me to lose my concentration.

We happily toured the rest of town. At one shop the the keeper responded to our queston about train travel with a 15 minute explanation of how we could take the train to Christchurch and then to the western shore. We should really come back and spend about six weeks to do the South Island. Then he said we could take the ferry to the North Island. What a joy he was.

Picton's featured corner

Once again, we found that showing interest in the local people produced great rewards.

Back home on Amsterdam we praised our good fortune.