Sadly, we leave Robin and Bernice’s lovely home on Francis Street in Blenheim, but we motor easily under sunny skies — SUNNY SKIES!!! — to Villa Maria’s main Marlborough vineyard for some a.m. tasting of their single vineyard Sauvignon Blanc (a tad acidic for our taste), noble gewertztraminer (really nice dessert wine, not cloyingly sweet) and purchase of a print of an oil painting commissioned by the vineyard’s owner. We allow that we’ve bought and consumed more than 1,000 bottles of their “planque Blanc,” which is our house white for Cynthia in D.C.

Onward and westerly to Murchison, past miles and miles of vineyards in the Wairau River Valley until, all of a sudden, the vineyards on the north side of the road turn into sheep pastures, though the Sauvignon Blanc grapes remain endlessly on the right. And then we’re in the foothills of very tall, craggy, barren mountains, rough terrain all around and we arrive at a 150-meter swinging bridge over the Buller River, a massive wide river with sweeping wide meanders glittering brown and green and gold over rocks and reflecting the surrounding steep mountains.

The insides of the sweeps of the meanders are wide thick gray crescents of rocks about the size of bowling balls. To deposit this many stones of such size and density, this river must be extraordinarily powerful when it rains. Indeed, Cynthia took a photo of a tall tree growing on a 20-foot high bank of the river near the swinging bridge, and the tree had wooden plaques nailed to it indicating the river’s height during various floods of the past 30 years. We were probably looking at one in 2012 when the river must have risen, in a chasm maybe 1,000 feet wide, by 75 to 100 feet above its current level.

Cynthia actually walks across the bridge. Twice! Could be a more awesome feat than climbing over Tongariro given her fear of bridges over water.

Onward to Westport’s Archer House, built by a Brit who sold wares to the gold miners, farmers, and boats that transported goods to and from the harbor at the turn of the last century. (It’s been bought and renovated by a twenty-something trader who used to own the chain of women’s fashion stores in New Zealand called Posties.)

A calico cat named Star, 15+ years old, importunes affection on the open air deck and kitchen area on the side of the house as Cynthia and I decompress with G&Ts. We’re off to see a seal colony and then to the Bay House for a seaside dinner under the setting sun.

Again, no rain today. Sunny skies with their peculiar color that may be due to a lack of ozone. Did I say “No rain today?” I did. Yes, I did.

You take what you get when you travel. There are so many ways it is good for the soul. A lack of patience can wear you out. Wishing for what could have been can break you. Focusing on the future merely ignores the pleasures of the present. These are platitudes, I guess. “But I can see clearly now, the sun has come. Gonna be a bright, bright sun-shiny day.”

Amen.

Another day in Paradise.