Goal posts

We're on the St James walkway now. It's pleasant and lovely, even without the dramatic landscape we had earlier.

We saw many character trees along the way. These ones we fancied as goal posts. We wondered how we'd use them - chucking boots and hurling packs like the highlanders hurl logs at highland games.

Thus we pass the morning until we're surprised by a small grunt to reach Anne Saddle. Lunch is further on and shared with ubiquitous and unending population of bumble bees on the eastern side. One flies into my t-shirt covered shoulder and bites me.

Our last night is spent in the Boyle Flats hut, another favourite with the sand flies. Oddly we have around 15 guests late in the afternoon. They're part of a party of 55 (yes, that isn't a typo) of students from the University of Canterbury's Tramping Club. Thankfully we stayed at the Boyle and not the Magdaline where they're camped, an hour and a half away.

For the first time this trip, and surprisingly given it's Saturday night, we spend our final night on our own. The first spits of drizzle appear and clear just as quickly. Geoff notes the sky is clear at 1am but rightly surmises his female companions don't want to be woken to look at Saturns rings.

Tomorrow we re-enter civilisation. We begin to talk about flush loos, showers and what we'll have to eat at Culverden.