Instead of going back to the campsite, we caught a bus to Wellington. A long 40 minutes later, we finally got there and looked around for something fun to do. We had 30 hours and 150 NZ dollars left to spend. We decided rather than exchange any of the money for Australian dollars, we would spend it on lots of fun things. The first of these fun things was breakfast: a pizza bread from a French bakery. Next on the list was some more "medieval madness" along with some virtual skiing, racing and a couple of other computer games. After that, we went to the Wellington cable car, which took us up the steep hill on the Northern side of the city centre. At the top of the hill was not only a good view out over Wellington and the bay, but also the city's botanical gardens. We wandered through them and back down the hill towards the bustling city. The last part we walked through was the rose garden, where we sat for a while to watch the sparrows play in the puddles next to the central fountain. We leafed through the guide to Wellington and stumbled across an interesting tour : a free daily tour of the parliamentary buildings.

We walked past to see if we could still get on a tour. It turned out that the tours went every hour, so we played hangman in the sunshine outside while we waited for the 15.00 tour. Just before three, we went inside and received a special sticker from the reception desk to show that we were on the tour. We then handed over our bags to a man at the tour desk, and wandered around the interesting lobby while we waited for the tour to start. Everything was very posh, with a marble-like floor and rich decorations, even the toilets were superbly decorated. It wasn't long before a young man called Matthew with a very loud voice introduced himself as our guide. He began with some of the usual jokey comments you'd expect from a tour guide, but was very friendly and knowledgeable. We were shown the new foundations of the building, put in during the renovations a few years previously which included a very modern earthquake protection mechanism. The buildings had been placed onto hundreds of shock absorbers so as to protect them from damage if the fault line a few kilometres away became suddenly active.

Next we were shown the select committee chambers, where bills were discussed and altered before being passed or thrown out by parliament. Then we were lead into a vast, high hallway where some artwork symbolic of Australia hung and where there was also a "peace stone" which had banners from over a hundred countries tied around it. The latest of these was presented to the Prime Minister of NZ by the latest Dalai Lama (aged 7) who was born in NZ, before going to undergo his training. We were also shown the parliamentary library, and of course, the debating chamber itself. We weren't allowed to sit in any of the seats, but had a little of the proceedings and layout explained to us. NZ has only one house of parliament (no house of Lords or senate), with 120 members. 37 of these are women, including the Prime Minister and the leader of the Opposition, 15 are Maoris, 1 is Asian and there is also one trans-sexual member, making it perhaps the most liberal parliament in the world.

Once the tour was over (a full hour and a bit later), we went to have a quick snack at Burger king. We gulped it down in time to rush to the cinema for the 16.45 showing of The Bachelor. It was a nice enough romantic comedy, but not among the 'greats' of film-making history. Not too sure what to do next, we played some more pinball to pass the time. We didn't really feel much like going home yet, and so returned to the cinema with a fresh supply of drinks and M & Ms. This time we chose The Insider, a long and slightly slow film with a good storyline about the media and the power of the tobacco industry. By the time that was over, it really was getting late and we walked to the bus station to catch the last bus back to the campsite. At the bus station we sat in the little shelter, while the resident drunk stood around on the pavement outside. He helped himself to another can of beer from a plastic bag tied to his bike, and continued to spit disgustingly on the street. When the bus pulled up and we got on, he moved into the shelter in which we'd been sitting and settled down for the night. As for us, we returned to or messy yet cosy little cabin.

We already knew where we wanted to go today, so we headed straight for it. Te Papa, NZ 's national museum. The entry was free, so we wandered around the exhibits. There were certain attractions which you had to put for such as virtual bungee jumping, virtual sheep shearing and a passage backwards or forwards in time on a special ride. We weren't tempted by any of these, and were drawn instead towards the volcano and earthquake section. Among the displays here were stories of the volcanic eruption of Mount Terawea in Rotorua and the 1931 earthquake in Napier. There were videos, audio accounts and even a small earthquake simulator. The next area of displays was of various animal Kingdoms. A large glass panel lined both walls of the long room, containing skeletons and models of various sea creatures. There was also a display of Kiwi-bird bones and models of the different varieties of kiwi.

Moving out of this area, and indeed out of the building, we came to a small area set up to show some rainforest and swamp life. Trees, shrubs and vines were labelled and a path could be followed through them. There was even a waterfall and a cave, with very fake glow-worms, stalactites and stalagmites. We retired from the rainforest to the cafe and shared some delicious orange juice. Having seen most of the museum which interested us, we headed from there back towards town. Throwing some more coins into our favourite pinball machine seemed like the best thing to do with our last half hour in Wellington, and so that's what we did.

By the time our change had run out and we'd walked back to the bus station, it was time to catch the Airport Express. This came at 14.15 and by 14.40 we were at the airport, with all our bags, ready to check in. We sent our luggage through and retrieved our boarding passes and then went to spend our last dollars in the airport shops and bars. We bought a nice drink each, a hugely expensive sausage roll, and our last souvenirs, a little cuddly kiwi on a key ring each, to dangle from our journey bags. To our dismay, just as we moved to go to the gate for boarding, we read a sign about "Wellington airport tax". We discovered that every passenger leaving for another country via Wellington airport had to pay a $25 tax for the privilege of doing so. A little annoyed at the sudden extra expenditure, we paid by credit card and hurried to the Gate.

The next disappointment came when we were on the plane: no TV. That meant no in-flight movie entertainment. Shocked, we were just trying to decide what to do when the plane began taxi-ing for take-0ff. Then the pilot mentioned something peculiar; we had to watch the safety instruction video. And, sure enough, a little tiny TV screen folded down from above the seats 6 rows in front of us. Once we were up, we were served drinks and we both sipped sparkling wine as we waved a sad goodbye to NZ. Then the film started, and although the chance was slim of it being one we hadn't seen, our luck was changing: it was "Anywhere but here". A decent enough drama/comedy, it passed the time well and we were also served dinner while we watched. Mark had the lamb and Laura the pork. It was surprisingly tasty for plastic airline food.

We landed in Sydney on time and were soon through customs with our belongings safely recovered from the conveyor belt. Then we began a search of the accommodation wall for somewhere suitable to sleep for the night. It was still only 19.00 Sydney time, so we had no need to rush. We decided to book our onward journey first, and reserved two places on the Greyhound bus to Adelaide, leaving at 17.45 the next day. We then reserved a double room for the night at a little hotel near the bus terminal. Catching the airport bus there was no problem and half an hour later we were greeted by the mopiest, grouchiest, most miserable man we'd met in a long time. He showed us up the stairs to a room directly opposite his "manager's" room and we were glad to be inside and out of his gloomy presence. Switching on the TV, we found our reward for the long, hard day behind us : "Little Women" had just started and we collapsed on the bed to watch. Needless to say we did not get up again.

"Are you checking out today" rang a miserable female voice round the crack in the door. "Yes" answered a half asleep Laura. "Check out time is 10 o'clock. It's 9 o'clock now said the fed up dismembered voice. Then the door was banged shut, leaving us staring sleepily at each other. Never before had we had such a grouchy wake up call, and we hadn't even asked for one. It felt like being transported back to an old fashioned boarding school, and being treated as eleven year olds. We decided the sooner we left the better before the gloomy attitude transferred itself to us.

We showered briefly, packed up the few things we had unpacked and left. Leaving the key hanging on the inside of the door as instructed by some writing in thick black marker on the door itself, we would not have to see the manager again. However, as we left the hotel a small, shabby, undecorated room with a solitary table and chair next to the hotel entrance was crowded with miserable people. The manager, another unsmiling man and a very grim woman (whose voice we can only assume woke us up those precious ten minutes before our alarm clock was due to) were standing around looking unhappy. We didn't try to lighten their spirits with a friendly goodbye and instead hurried straight for the bus station.

In the Greyhound terminal building we successfully secured a locker and put all our things into it. We had nearly seven hours to kill before the coach left, so set off to do the most urgent things first. Sydney felt oddly familiar as we knew our way around the main streets already. We soon found a "$4:forever" internet centre and sat down for a couple of hours of typing. By nearly half past twelve we were pretty much up to date with all the news from back home, and had also passed our latest news on to most people. We moved on again, anxious to see if we'd had any post, so went straight to the Travellers Contact Point. There was only one envelope to retrieve this time, the photos Mark's family had sent at around Christmas. We sat down and opened them hurriedly, excited to see what the first Christmas in Nuenen looked like. We gazed in wonder at the beautiful Christmas tree in the soft, thick snow, and for a while we forgot those gorgeous beaches and that hot sunshine and it felt very Christmasy.

Back outside however, the heat of Sydney in the early afternoon soon reminded us of our current position on the globe, and we knew at once what we needed: lunch. In need of something cheap and familiar, we both got tasty Bacon deluxe meals at Hungry Jacks and listened to the juke box blaring while we ate them. All Hungry Jacks "restaurants" in Australia and Burger Kings in NZ are decorated Hollywood-style. Complete with identical posters of former Hollywood stars, old-fashioned cars and some original coca-cola adverts, and of course the Juke Box. Each juke box contained the latest hits as well as the old classics, and to our amusement some contained the Venga Boys CD.

As we still had 3 hours to wait, we walked past the cinemas to see if there was anything we wanted to watch. At the last cinema in the row, we found that Joan of Arc had indeed already come out here. We bought tickets for the 1.45 pm showing and sat in the front row. The film was very long and it was half past four by the time we came out. It was however interesting throughout and very well filmed. As we walked out of the cinema, we were in fact given the chance to voice our opinions to the broader public. There were a photographer and a reporter for the "Herald" newspaper stopping a few of us to ask us what we thought of the film. We had our photo taken and gave our names, before being asked separately what we thought. We had apparently stumbled across one of the first showings, and this would be going in the film review in Sunday's paper. If only we were still in Sydney to buy a copy.

By the time we'd finished at the cinema, we had to hurry back to the Greyhound terminal to pick up our tickets. The bus was on time and we got on board, hope, fingers crossed, that our seats would be far from that of a very drunk man who would also be making the journey. We found 9A and 9B and settled down, dismayed to find that the drunk took his seat directly behind us. To make matters worse, the TV was missing from its usual "hole" at the front of the bus, so the 25 hour journey looked liked being a very dull one. Just a few minutes past departure time, two more drunks were ushered onto the coach by a third drunk, who then waved goodbye and staggered back down the isle and onto the pavement. Meanwhile, drunk number one had fallen asleep and was slipping forwards off his chair and into the isle, making some rather vile noises. It took ages to get out of Sydney, not very surprising since we were leaving in peak rush hour! The drunk was still lolling in the isle, annoying more and more of our fellow passengers. To our amusement though, it wasn't him who caused the first real trouble on the journey.

Not long before our dinner stop, a very obnoxious boy sitting behind us too, ran down the bus and told the driver something. The driver stopped the bus immediately and stomped down to the toilet in the rear. He hammered on the door, but got no reply. He hammered again, still nothing. After further knocking and shouting, one of the other two drunks finally fell out of it. He was escorted back to his seat and the driver started up again. There was some debate about what the man had done, but the general consensus was that he'd been smoking/drinking or worse in the toilet. At the roadhouse, we shared some chips and a toastie before getting back on the bus. It was only when we drove away again that we realised we had lost two passengers, and sure enough the drunk duo were standing with their luggage, watching sadly as the bus pulled away. The next portion of the journey was relatively uneventful, the sleepy drunk had moved to the front of the bus to sleep and the obnoxious, spoilt, irritating boy was occupied with his Gameboy. Before long though, a new character of interest boarded. A woman came to sit, yes, you guessed it, behind us, and she had a highly peculiar habit of talking to herself; repeating whole conversations with imaginary people. She laughed, she shouted, she nearly cried, all on her own; non stop.

We stopped at Dubbo to wait for the connecting bus lines and got off for a hot chocolate and a break from the incessant talking behind us. Then it was our favourite drunk's turn to cause more trouble: he went around to everyone asking them for money. It was nearly two in the morning, so he was met with very unfriendly expressions and unanimous firm "no's". Glad to be tired, we managed to get some sleep (the motor mouth woman behind us didn't seem to) and it was soon morning again.

The woman meanwhile had told the bus driver herself, and had cleaned up the puddle a little. The driver in turn put an air freshener into the air conditioning system and told her to sit down and relax for the rest of the journey. Next came the lunch break which went smoothly and we enjoyed our tasty big hamburgers. But before we got to Adelaide there was one more disturbance. Having returned to her muttering without the beer, the woman went to the toilet more often than might be considered healthy. Then came the driver's voice over the microphone with a less friendly hint to it "would the person who keeps smoking in the toilet stop doing it. I've seen you twice now and I know who you are. If you do it again we'll have to leave you behind". That certainly stopped the woman talking to herself, but not for long.

We were very relieved to see the outskirts of Adelaide, and even more so when we could finally get off the bus after the 25 hour journey. Glad that we already knew Adelaide so well, we ignored the dozens of backpacker buses and went to the bus stop for the 278. As we sat and waited, we wondered half-jokingly if Gail might be on the bus going home from work. Sure enough, the bus rolled up and we saw her face through the window, a lovely surprise. She was very excited to see us and we caught up on what we'd missed in Adelaide. We also of course told her everything we had time for about NZ. All too soon, she had to get off and we said goodbye, promising to phone and visit her soon.

Just a minute later, we got off too, directly opposite the West Beach Caravan Park. To our delight, it was part of the Big 4 group, Australian brother to the Top Ten parks we enjoyed in NZ. We booked a few nights, and bought the club card with which we would get discounts at the Big 4 parks all over Australia.

Once our tent was up, we decided to go for a refreshing swim, it was still 39C outside at 18.00, we we put on our swim stuff and went to the beach. A short walk over the dunes, and a wide sandy beach with high, crashing surf awaited us. The sea was cold, but the initial shock was well worth overcoming. Even without our body boards, if we caught the wave at the right time, it picked us up and carried us to the shore. The only dampener on the thrill was the fact that it carried you very high up, and then dropped you as it crashed against the beach. This was rather painful in itself but was made even worse by the sharp little shells and rocks that we scraped our bodies against. A few cuts and scratches and some red skin was worth it though, as the exhilarating feeling of flying high on the waves was breathtaking. Feeling in no mood to cook, we went to the holiday park's shop/takeaway. We bought some tasty Chinese and rice and something to drink. Back at our tent, we ate it quickly and then got ready for bed. An early night and a horizontal bed without a woman talking continuously behind our heads was just what we needed.

Next we caught a tram to town, where we stopped by Cheap as Chips for a few minutes. To our dismay, there was hardly anyone recognisable there, and only Carly of the Christmas casuals bunch had stayed on. There were a lot of new faces, and much of the magic had gone, so we left to go car hunting. The 222 bus took us straight up Main North road, where we drove past an endless row of car yards, and got off near the end. We began to walk back the way the bus had come, and to visit all the car yards in between. There was so much choice, but much of it was either way too pricey, or way too rusty and broken. We saw a few cars that we liked, and in one yard also gained some advice. The friendly owner told us it was best to buy a Ford or a Holden, as parts for them were available everywhere. He also said getting a dual fuel car was good as it would save us lots of money buying gas instead of petrol. We thanked him for his advice and went to look further.

By about 16.00 we decided to try two more car yards and then stop for a drink, or maybe even go home and come back Monday. At the second one however, we found an ideal car. It was a large, white, Ford Falcon sedan, with alloy wheels, power steering, air conditioning, dual fuel and an almost new car stereo. It sounded too good to be true, and for $2900 it was much better than other cars we had seen. The salesman took us for a ride in it, and although we would never drive in his style, the car itself appeared to go fine. Before we'd even noticed, we'd agreed to come back Monday after having a think about it. He offered to get the engine cleaned and we both seemed to think it was a great car, so we agreed to buy it if he got the engine cleaned and checked, and changed the lock-nuts on the wheels (so that we could take the tyres off if we had a puncture). We signed some papers and left a deposit, glad that the hunting was now behind us. On the bus home we continued to talk excitedly about what the car had to offer. Back in town we went to MacDonalds and then used the internet to tell everyone the exciting news.

Next stop: Gail's house. We went to show her all the pretty photos before we sent them off to Holland, and to have a proper chat. We stayed for a good two hours, chatting to Gail and her daughter and daughter's boyfriend. They had been due to leave for Sydney as he was transferring to the Army Band there, but the paperwork was taking forever to come through so they were still waiting. We left Gail's with smiles and our body boards, heading of course, for the beach. We rode the waves on our body boards, pleased that we were no longer slammed against the beach without the protection of our boards. Soon though, we were tired after the battering of the waves. We retired to the campsite to BBQ our tasty selection of meats and potato.

When we were full and we'd washed up the two plates and cutlery, we decided to go to Glenelg to do a little more internetting. Laura had sent some e-mails to universities the day before and was desperate to see if she'd had any replies or error messages. Just as we were getting on the bus, Mark's parents called and he chatted to them as best he could while the bus drove on. Sadly though, the line broke up. Then as we got into Glenelg the phone rang again. We got off the bus and Mark answered it, expecting it to be his parents again. By some miracle of timing though, it was Laura's Mum and Dad, so she chatted to them for a while. When she was finished, Laura went to use the internet while Mark spoke to his family again, in the company of another obnoxious drunk. We just managed to catch the next bus back, and then we sat up until late, completing the commentary on the photos.

We were pleased to find that all the buses heading North out of Adelaide were going on schedule (we had to wait a while this morning at the bus stop as some of the buses were on strike). We got to the car yard and were greeted by cheerful hellos. We signed the rest of the papers and handed the money over. The car was ours, and we drove it away. It was only once we were driving it that we realised just how big and bulky it was. It was much wider than a normal car, and that in itself terrified Laura. Then came the gears, which were impossibly difficult to find and didn't seem to stay in gear properly. To top that off, the reverse was at the top left, so was easily confused with 1^st gear. The worst bit was the hand brake, which wasn't behind the gear stick in between the seats, it was to the left of the steering wheel and had to be pulled out. Shaking with terror, we pulled into a car park to try to think rationally about what to do. We spent ages trying to decide if Laura could drive it, and eventually pulled away again to practise in a side street and see what happened. Still shaking, Laura tried her best to manoeuvre the car, but she had to lean forwards in her seat in order to change gears, and they still seemed loose. The seat wouldn't go any further forward, and in order to use the handbrake, Laura also had to lean dangerously forwards. She was feeling worse and worse, was she really such a terrible driver that she couldn't even manage this slightly different car.

It was no good, however stupid it felt, she couldn't drive it, so we parked it by the side of the road and walked to get a drink and decide what to do. We thought the best thing was to go back to the dealer first and see if he had a solution, so we went past to see if there was still someone there. Not the man we had dealt with, but a younger, friendly bloke listened to our tale. He advised us to come back tomorrow with the car and maybe we'd be able to work something out.

Tired, fed up, and upset we caught a bus back to town and then on to Glenelg. We thought we might see a film to take our minds off it, but we'd already seen all the ones showing there. We went instead to Hungry Jacks as we hadn't got any food for tonight anyway. Then, as the bus strike seemed to be continuing, we walked back to the Holiday Park along the beach, stopping for a while to sit and watch the airplanes come in and land over our heads. An hour and a bit late we were back at our tent, where we spent even longer trying to get to sleep in the heat.