The Last Picture Ever…

All things must pass said my favorite Beatle, George Harrison. Even nifty little cameras have an expiry date. The other day I went to the spectacular Wharariki Beach here in Golden Bay, New Zealand, and while I was personally appreciating the extremely fine sand-grains, my camera did not, unfortunately, survive a close encounter.

The sand got inside the cogs of the lens and the camera wouldn’t start again. Thinking that it was already dead, I thought I would give it a go with fixing it myself. The result was interesting enough but nowhere near a functioning camera… At least when I finally got to open the lens-bit, I could conclude that I couldn’t have fixed it anyway so it didn’t matter that I hadn’t a clue in the world how to put it all back together again.

Now where did that image go?

At least my Canon Ixus Powershot had a wonderful view on its deathbed…

And so it is that I have taken the last picture ever, at least with that camera. To put it mildly; that is f….ng crap, bollox, !@#¤!§, damn! and MAN THAT SUCKS!

Next week I will be doing a trip around the South Island here in New Zealand and so if you have a spare camera floating about somewhere and feel like donating it to someone who is about to travel one of the world’s most beautiful places without a camera, then please do let me know…

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A Tramp In The Park

Now where did that image go?

Lovely as it may look, this landscape takes its tourist toll every year with unprepared trampers getting caught out in bad weather or simply disappearing.

I have gotten hooked on tramping. That statement does not mean that I am now addicted to brothels. No, tramping in New Zealand means something in between trekking and hiking.

Everyone who has ever told me about their experience in the land of Kiwi, has always stressed the importance of tramping around the rugged alpine landscape. New Zealanders are absolutely mad about it. Every single Kiwi I have spoken to has a passion for tramping around the pristine national parks whenever they get a chance, and one can’t help wonder if this might be one of the reasons for the many earthquakes around here. (I know. That was a dad-joke.)

The lovely Inna about to cross one of the countless "creeks" en route.

The lovely Inna about to cross one of the countless “creeks” en route. She also thinks that was a dad-joke.

So it was with considerable excitement that I recently was invited on a tramp with my lovely guide Inna from Tui community. She is a veritable encyclopedia of tramping on the South Island and upon learning of my inadequate equipment she promptly arranged for me to borrow a proper sleeping bag, thermal underwear, woolen socks etc. Great Mystery knows it all came in handy when the weather turned.

Now where did that image go?

Even deep in the national parks where no vehicles have any chance of getting to, the Department Of Conservation has somehow managed to build great bridges and establish good pathways to get the trampers safely through the parks.

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