The small seaside town of Akaroa is the areas main hub. Akaroa means long harbour in Maori and the whole township essentially revolves around this. Back in 1838 Capt. Langlois provisionally purchased this area for the French only to return a couple of years later with 63 fellow emigrants to discover the British had claimed it as their own apparently only seven days earlier. The French though were invited to stay and create their own settlement, their influence is still obvious today. Street lights are French in style, sign posts and street names take you to Paris, with names like Rue. Even the local butchers is known as the boucherie.  

In the evening I was picked up from Akaroa in a rusty old Toyota belonging to Onuku Farm Hostel and taken in this refined luxury down a bumpy end of road track to the far side of the peninsula. From here I leapt on the back of a quad bike with my bag to find my accommodation for the night! A novel way to arrive. The former sheep farm is home to a wide range of accommodation types all with picturesque views. My own night was going to be spent in something called a ‘Stargazer’, essentially a wooden tent with a glass panel as its roof. Wiggling in to your sleeping bag in the confined room is a fair challenge but I was game. I fell asleep to a cloudy sky and no chance of experiencing any star gazing. However, a few hours later I turned over on to my back to the most dazzling sights ever – the whole galaxy seemed to lay before me twinkling and glistening in the complete darkness of the sky. I was awoken the next morning to the delightful call of the bell bird and tui, two of NZ’s most iconic birds and most certainly the most tuneful. Despite not having the greatest of sleeps, but still pretty content I journeyed back to Akaroa.