...My 32nd birthday (06.04.1976) was without a doubt one of the least memorable ever (or the most memorable in ways that birthdays are not supposed to be remembered, your pick?!). The rain was pouring down when I woke up in my tent on a godforsaken piece of grass in the hamlet of Papatowai. The sky was grey and gloomy. The tent and my kevlar soul was all wet and cold from a near-zero degrees C night and I really didn't feel like cycling that particular day. I soon hit unexpected and undulating gravel roads, and before I knew of it a terrible headwind hit me smack in the face and stayed like that for the rest of the day. That's when the bad language started. It was a rather cruel present from the Lord above or wherever he resides. Pure stamina pushed me to Invercargill where I enjoyed the luxury of a hot shower and a dry bed for the night....
Read the full newsletter from New Zealand's South Island here (including photos)...
Cheers, Nicolai (Copenhagen, now in Picton/NZ)
