Sorry bloggy blog for neglecting you i"ll be a proper blogger now.

Going to have a bit of a blather about me and Nats wee jaunt to Central Otago. We spent monday in queenstown, drove round to Glenorchy with her british friend Alex who we met up with who was pretty funny and that was cool lah de dah.

Then monday night we were going to camp and fuck me we decided to camp at Skippers Canyon. To get down there you have to drive along this scary as fuck road, there is only 2 roads in NZ where you aren't covered by any car insurance apparently and this is one on them like omg/wtf actually millimeters from death the whole way down, waaaay too much for a rubbish driver like me to cope with. So narrow and bumpy gravel with all these potholes and shit me, this picture does not show how flipping intense these corners were.

I feel they have probably just taken this picture of the mellowest segment of road to encourage tourism.

Was like a 28km drive down to the river it was this goldmining place called Skippers and camped by like this historical school by these 2 german men who had caught this little baby goat. On the way down we stopped and the car broke down, so fuck my life and were like on empty petrol driving back up but the germans said they would save us.

This possum was like dying/laughing or some fucking thing right outside our tent through the night Natalie thought it was like a teradactor (fuck i dont know how to spell but one of those flying dinosaurs) while I imagined like a harry potter type beast, some kind of demented evil unicorn thing, but yeah the germans told us in the morning it was just a possum.

Sorry don't want to make this all travel diary but thats what happened and i truely thought i was going to die at several points in the Canyon trip I hope you can appreciate that. Kudos to hardcore german hunters for not murdering the goat nor natalie or myself and non-kudos to my mum for giving me a sleeping bag that didn't have a zip, and Ryan the screwbag for being a faux- mechanic.