O mar estava um reboliço, o céu fazia uma birra, mas as cagarras e albatrozes nunca pareceram tão felizes. Enquanto surfavam o vento e as ondas, nós lutávamos contra o enjoo, ansiosos por chegar a Stewart Island.


Com os pés em terra firme, começamos o trilho de Rakiura, uma das Great Walks. Belo era certamente, mas com a chuva, o vento e a noite a cair não tivemos muito tempo para apreciar as vistas tanto como queríamos.


A noite estava agora cerrada, completamente selada, e nós totalmente ensopados. Nem os kiwis quiseram sair para um passeio noturno. Chegamos à cabine com os pés dentro de dois aquários, e rapidamente tiramos os nossos pertences de dentro das mochilas para tentar secar tudo um pouco (sem grande sucesso). O cansaço era tanto que até com os roncos dos outros caminhantes adormecemos. Após um sono restaurador, acordamos para uma manhã solarenga, com tuis a cantar e veados a pastar no jardim.


O caminho de volta foi mais sossegado, mas não faltou um último chuveirinho. Pelo menos agora vimos os místicos fetos, estranhas palmeiras, e fantásticas praias com marcas da tempestade que passou. Os pássaros cantavam à nossa volta, mas ainda assim ansiávamos pelo calorzinho de um quarto de hostel.


Chegamos inteiros, mas a ilha ficou quase toda por ver, e os kiwis fugiram de nós. Mais um para a lista de sítios a que temos de voltar!


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


The sea was turbulent, and the sky was throwing a tantrum, but the shearwaters and albatrosses had never looked so happy. As they were riding the wind and waves, we were fighting seasickness, eager to get to Stewart Island.


With our feet on solid ground, we started the Rakiura track, one of the Great Walks. It certainly was beautiful, but with the rain, wind and night falling we didn't have time to enjoy the views as much as we wanted.


The night was now thick, completely sealed, and we were completely soaked. Not even the kiwis wanted to go out for a night stroll. We arrived at the cabin with our feet inside two fishbowls, and quickly took our belongings out of the backpacks to try to dry them (without much success). We were so tired that even with the snoring of other hikers we fell sound asleep. After a restorative rest, we woke up to a sunny morning, with tuis singing and deer grazing in the garden.


The way back was easier, but there was still one last shower. At least now we got to see the mystical ferns, strange palm trees, and fantastic beaches scarred by the storm that passed by. The birds were singing around us, but we still longed for the warmth of a hostel room.


We arrived in one piece, but the island was almost completely unseen, and the kiwis ran away from us. Another one for the list of places we have to return to!