Picton, Bluebridge Ferry, and Wellington
We woke up on the Smith's Farm and talked to the proprietress about the rest of the animals. She had said they had lambs, but they had already eaten when we arrived, so we hadn't seen them yet. She offered to let us give them their breakfast, and the kids got to take bottles to two little fuzzy lambs. They were very eager and the kids did a great job. We fed the rest of the food from the night before to the sheep and goats.
Eli and the middle kid went on an adventure to find a cow they could see up close while I took the other two kids and cleaned the RV. After getting close to a cow, but not close enough to get it to come over (or not having enough tasty food to get them over their fear of small boys), they returned to a sparkling RV and we bid the farm adieu.
We drove to Picton, where a friend of ours had recommended that we get fish and chips there. We found a little shop right on the water that looked divey enough to be cheap but respectable enough to not kill us with food poisoning. They had 12 different kinds of fish, so we opted for four of the most delicious looking options and one weird one and I went and got a coffee for Eli while they cooked.
I came back to a bag full of five packages of fish, and each individual package was likely enough to feed all of us. The price was insane for the sheer weight of food we received. We ate a little bit of each, agreed that the normal cod was the best and the swordfish was strange and had no business being battered and deep fried.
We saved the massive amount of leftover fish and chips and drove to the ferry terminal. After making a few U-turns (It's not an adventure without a U-turn), we pulled up into line and waited patiently for the ship to arrive and disgorge its passengers. We were right after the lorries on the boat and we got to park next to a delivery truck full of sheep. They didn't seem too pleased to be making a sea voyage, but, then, it's probably as much room as I have on a budget airline.
The ship was very nice. They had a kids lounge playing The Boss Baby, and while the older kids watched that, ran around, rearranged the furniture, and in general made mayhem that was as quiet as possible, the baby slept. We even got a chance to go outside and check out the scenery.
It's windy in the strait between islands, and when the middle kid and I made it to the top, the wind gusts were strong enough that I was worried he was going to be blown overboard. I held him tightly, we braved the cold, and we got to see the rocky islands and cliffs on both sides as we left the south behind.
After a few hours and a light lunch from the ship's cafe, we arrived in Wellington. We had previously looked for a holiday park nearby, and found that there was actually one right in the middle of the city. Like right smack dab in the middle. We were both skeptical, but up for an adventure and we had time if we needed to figure it out.
We drove our huge RV through the tiny downtown streets of Wellington. I was glad we had a week of experience navigating in it, or we would have been pretty freaked out by the sheer size of the vehicle we were driving. The closer we got to our destination on maps, we grew more and more skeptical there was a holiday park there. Everything around us screamed "big city", from the layout of the streets, to the tourists looking at our RV, to the lack of RVs around us at all.
One of the major attractions in Wellington is the Cuba Mall and the bucket sculpture that's apparently been there for decades. It's one of the most touristy areas in the city, and we were driving right through it. We turned down an alley and, much to our surprise and infinite faith in Google maps, there was a holiday park, an open spot, and power waiting for us. We couldn't have gotten a hotel closer to the sights, the price was ridiculously cheap for the location. We parked, settled in, and went to a cafe for a light snack before bed.
The woman at the bakery asked what we wanted. Charlie and Malcolm split a chocolate cake, Eli got a latte and a brownie, and I ordered a fancy looking carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. When she rang us up, she said, "That's one chocolate cake and one normal cake." She laughed at herself, since nobody thinks carrot cake is normal, but I got to feel less weird for a moment. We paid, we ate, and we headed back to the RV, surrounded by distant city noises, safe in our little car house.