Mountains and Mormons

Well, it's been quite a week travelling from the West Coast to the East. First we hung out with old friends in Greymouth, incorporating a random visit from some friendly Mormon folks, who ended up staying for scones and board-games. With such an incongruous mix of gypsies, fishermen jailbirds and mormons, you might expect there to be a few awkward moments. Well, there were a couple. But we managed quite well until I went to hug Elder Heywood goodbye only to be told that hugs were not allowed... No time for regret, as we had a gypsy bonfire to get to, amidst the beautiful Arthurs Pass mountains. Not only were the surroundings magnificent, but there was nobody around to call Noise Control, so we danced, twistered and cartwheeled the night away. And now, our truck won't start and we are forced to spend the night right next to the Dump Station we have just visited. I think it might be punishment for trying to find glamour in the humble Dump Station in my last blog entry. Fabulous much?