Last May, whilst recovering from major knee surgery, our friend Cath decided it might be a nice idea to put out the call to all her FB friends to see if anyone wanted to do the Banks Peninsula 3 day walk.

Nice goal Cath.

Of course we said yes.

At our age, seriously, we always say yes.

Well mostly.

You just never know if there may come a time, sooner than we think, when we can’t say yes.

True story.

So YES it was.

The Banks track is a 3 day, 31km walk around the south eastern bays of Banks Peninsula. It commences and ends in beautiful Akaroa (where we got married). Of course Akaroa Harbour is the eroded crater of an ancient volcano.

The weekend before we had a meet and greet, a meal, a chat about what to take, what to eat, what to wear, where to meet at the start and all that lovely stuff one needs to know when undertaking a 3 day walk in the wild.

All the stuff I needed to know. Most of the group had done some tramping (trekking in Aussie speak) but I am an almost novice.

I say almost because I have done the Oxfam 100km 48 hour walk.

Twice.

A walk our team did in 24 and 26 hours respectively.

Or around that.

There wasn’t much sleep involved either walk and I didn’t have to worry about too much except putting one foot in front of the other.

We had a full support crew.

As it got closer to the BP walk I wondered, out loud a few times, whilst wondering around the house talking to myself, what the hell had I signed us up for?

It’s not that I was worried about the 31km walk.

Even though I whine a lot about riding up hills (as you know Annabel), I am ok walking, I just keep going until I finish.

It’s all the other ‘stuff’.

Like bunking in with ‘people’.

Since I’ve been with MoD I have been taken out of my comfort zone. Often. I never used to stay at other people’s places.

Essentially I would rather pay for a hotel.

Essentially I am very social, but only on my terms.

Staying with other people was always a bit of a no-no.

So I’ve become braver.

But bunking in with people, in bunks, sleeping together, in the same room.

Sharing a bathroom.

Way, way out of my comfort zone.

It might be about my many-many overnight toilet stops.

A long standing habit that’s pretty hard to break.

As far back as when I started living with other families at 12ish and worried about wetting the bed. Which I did.

I really should consider hypnosis.

Or maybe it’s because nobody wants to see me without make up. Truly. When you’ve spent the first 40 or so years of your life being teased for your red hair, white freckly ugly skin, you don’t want anyone else subjected to that view. Other red heads I am sure would get that. Our generation of red heads weren’t popular like the more recent generations. In fact we were positively tortured. Particularly by my ex-brother in laws.

It’s amazing how some things have a profound effect on you for your life. No matter how big your big girl pants get.

But, like the true princess I am, I sucked it all up, with the help of some tinted sunscreen (poorly applied I now see from the photos), some false eyelashes (trialled for our upcoming Amsterdam trip, I am now reminded how much I did not enjoy them for the wedding) and intentions of early morning scurries into showers.

But back to the real story.

Our latest adventure commenced on a sunny Canterbury Friday afternoon.

We arrived at Akaroa to find our group already at Bully Hayes enjoying the sunshine and maybe a wine or two.

A vodka for moi and a beer for MoD later, we headed off to meet our bus driver Paul, who was to take our bags up to our first nights accommodation.

Onuku.

There were strict rules around how much we could take. Or how heavy Paul was willing to lift – fair enough I say. We had paid an extra $50 to take extra ‘stuff’ but essentially it was one esky (see it’s not all about NZ speak, in NZ it’s called a ‘chilly bin’) and a soft bag or back pack no heavier than 15kg.

For each couple.

We had packed fairly light with enough dehydrated food to do us over the three days.

MoD, being the special man he is, had made a delicious veggie lasagne for our first night.

Having now spent the weekend with seasoned trekkers we realise some fresh food wouldn’t go astray. Particularly given the somewhat classy accommodation we had. MoD expected DoC huts. He was pleasantly surprised.

Onuku Hut track came with all the commodities we would need to ensure a rather comfortable night.

Although no TV. Alas I missed The Chase. My big NZ TV vice.

Which essentially says a lot about NZ TV.

Just sayin’.

MoD and I were allocated the upper loft with our new besties Leeann and Sharee.

Rumour has it there was no snoring (my rumour).

Backed up by Cath, who got up at midnight to no one making any noise. She wondered if perhaps we had all been murdered and she was the last one to get slaughtered. Apparently it was eerily deathly still.

Too many horror movies Cath?

Sorry about the horror story I told you later, try to get that out of your head. My bad.

The reality is that there was snoring.

Apparently, potentially from our direction.

But it didn’t matter.

More importantly for me, the toilet was close, albeit via creaky stairs.

All in all it was a fairy chill and relaxed night at an amazing venue, with beautiful views and a great group of people.

Tomorrow the fun begins.