We were the only ones there - alone in a 40-bed DOC hut.
On the way back we set aside a couple of hours to pop on a ferry and explore the glow-worm caves on the other side of lake Te Anau. It felt eerily special doing it in the quietness of what is, ordinarily, a bustling tourist town - captain included, we were only 13 people on the ship. Inside the caves, we all fit on a single paddling boat.
Then, upon returning home, I discovered that Kim Hill had interviewed Jon Krakauer on Saturday morning. In that interview, Jon admitted that he had no intention of writing books any more.
I was, like, oh. Sad and glad at the same time: glad for Jon that he is allowing himself to be free of the intensity of work that goes into researching a book when he has, maybe, only about 10 more "good" years left in him, but sad for me for I am such a fan of his writing.
So, I have wondered about Into the Wild and listened to Eddie Vedder's soundtrack.
Meanwhile, I am reading a book called Herding Hemingway's Cats. It's a good read - I recommend it.
Life is quiet, sort of. Winter cold rain and thunderstorms pelt the coast, ground was white with hail this morning.