In exploring both islands, I’ve done my bit of driving in New Zealand

(over 3000 miles) and overall I’ve been impressed with the quality of the roads and the civility of other drivers.  However, there are some differences from driving in America that we’ve learned the hard way and would like to provide some information we wish we had had.

Everything is Opposite

For an American driving in New Zealand, there is one unmistakable and overwhelming fact – everything is opposite.  You’re driving on the wrong side of the car on the wrong side of the road and shifting gears with the wrong hand.

In getting started with driving opposites, there are some things to keep in mind.  First, as the driver, you should always be nearest to the center of the road.  If you look out the driver’s side window and see the shoulder, you’re in the wrong lane.  Also, when you first get started, it will be strange to have the width of the vehicle on your left side and your tendency will be to run off the road on the left side.  You have to get used to keeping yourself toward the center of the road- if you’re looking down the middle of your lane, you’re too far left.

Another example of everything being opposite is where you look when entering traffic (or crossing the street for that matter).  Americans grow up learning to look left-right-left before crossing.  In New Zealand it’s right-left-right.

Interestingly, driving on the left side also governs pedestrian behavior.  When approaching another person on a sidewalk in New Zealand, the default is to yield to the left.

Signs and the Metric System

In New Zealand, there are more “give way” (yield) signs than stop signs, more traffic circles than stop lights and less pedestrian right of ways.  From what we can tell, the strategy is to keep traffic moving and it often works.  Without the volume of cars like you’d find in the US, traffic does seem to keep moving and I like the difference.

In cities and towns, you’ll see signs like “P30”, “P15”, etc.  These are parking signs and relate how many minutes you can park there without a ticket.

Like the rest of the world (except the US) New Zealand uses the metric system, so the signs take some getting used to.  Here are some hints:

100 kph equals 62 mph and 100 kph is the maximum speed limit NZ wide.  You can do 110kph max and not worry about a ticket (what we heard first-hand), which starts with a fee of $120 and goes up rapidly.

Round-abouts or traffic circles are everywhere and are somewhat foreign to Americans. The basic rule when entering a traffic circle is to yield to the right.  If you get hit on the driver’s side (right side) in a traffic circle, it’s your fault. When approaching a circle, know where you plan to exit before entering (the sign before it should let you know).  If you look at the circle as a clock and you are exiting the circle from 9-12 o’clock or so, get in the far left lane, yield to the right and follow through.  If you are exiting from 1-3 o’clock, turn on your left hand turn signal and watch for any cars coming up on your left before you exit the circle to the left.  The best scenario is to be behind a car that is going the same way as you.  If you miss your exit, go around again.  It took me a couple of weeks of nervousness and honking horns and to get it down.

In the US, it’s easy to convert miles to minutes to figure out how long it takes to drive somewhere at 60mph. When miles don’t apply, it may seem difficult, but there is an easy way:
When converting kilometers to minutes driving, think about the number of kilometers you need to go as a percentage and then apply that percentage to 60 minutes.  For instance, consider how long it takes to drive 25 kms.  Being that 100 kph is essentially the same as 60 mph, it makes for a handy way to calculate time and distance.   First, think about 25 kms as 25% of 100 (100 kilometers per hour).  Then, calculate 25% of 60 minutes, which would be 15.  So, it takes 15 minutes to travel 25km at 100 kph.

The Roads

New Zealand has very few expressways, except in the urban areas.  Everything else is a mixture of long, straight rural roads and 2 lanes of curvy white-knuckled roller coasters with about a centimeter for a shoulder. The need to pass other vehicles is ever-present.  Drivers in NZ expect to be passed and often pull over to the shoulder and put on the left-hand turn signal.  This says to you “Please pass now”.  Many of the roads have passing lanes every so often and these are the safest places to pass.

I’ve never seen roadkill on the scale I’ve seen in New Zealand.  Like America, it is often the poor possum, which has an uncanny ability to be hit during their nightly scavenger hunts.  Other than roadkill, be aware of the errant farm animal.  Sheep seem adept at escaping and often appear on the edge of the road, eyeing the other side.

The west coast of the South Island seems particularly fond of one-lane bridges – they vastly outnumber the two lane bridges.  Pay attention to the signs when you approach a one lane bridge – they provide information on right of way, which is apparently based on who has the most visible approach to the bridge.

All in All

You’ll be fine!  You’ll get used to it in a few days and in a couple of weeks, the idea of driving on the left side of the car on the right side of the road will seem weird.  You’ll be fine mate, no worries!

The Picnic Table Wars, originally uploaded by LeeLeFever_TwinF.

In many campgrounds, there are picnic tables, but they are not provided in a 1:1 ratio. We have to be nice campers and share, or take as it were.

Being a scarce resource, the tables have value over and above their wood and nails. Campers sit ready to pounce as soon as one comes available, creating a passive aggressive competition among campers. Who will finally own the table?

When we arrived at our campsite here in Kaikoura, we found a single picnic table between two sites, positioned a bit closerto the other site. So, we nudged it back over to our side, clearly laying our claim. We left for the day and came back to find new neighbors and a picnic table conspicuously moved to their side, so close we would intrude if trying to use it. They had very clearly snatched ownership of the table from our grasp. We let it go. When they left, the table moved into the center once more. We let it be, even though we had a chance to claim it again.

The next morning we left the campground and returned to find new neighbors that had staked there claim in an unprecedented way. The table was situated in the far back corner of their site, unreachable by any mere mortals. The message was clear and we stood down. They were tent campers and we have a campervan, they need it more, we'll let them have it. We prided ourselves in our attitude but it still bugged me that they would be so brash.

This morning we awoke to a cold, hard rain and our table-claiming neighbors packing up to leave at 7AM. All I could say to Sachi was "It's such a shame that picnic table can't keep them warm and dry, isn't it?"

It’s another rainy evening in the South Island. We really haven’t had many, but they seem to come at opportune times for us – usually after a big activity, and all we want to do is nap or relax our muscles. We’re warm and dry in the campervan while the tent campers outside are huddling and trying to figure out how to keep the mini rivers of rainwater from flowing into their tents. Some are hiding in their cars. Up in Abel Tasman Park, our next door tent camping neighbors said they had a couple of inches of rain in their tent overnight. Yuck.

This vehicle has become home. So what does that mean? In the evenings when we return to Squeak, we head to our normal positions. Lee moves pictures from the camera to the laptop and begins the process of creating panoramas from the set he captured that day. I clean up and start dinner.  Lee then finds some kind of entertainment for me – a couple of nights ago it was music – Motown oldies, tonight he read me a few chapters of a Genghis Khan biography while I tended to our butter chicken and risotto rice dinner and tomorrow’s lunch. I wash the dishes and he stands under the vent (it’s the only place he doesn’t need to duck) and happily dries and then takes the garbage bag out. It’s all very much like home – except for the head room.

Some nights before bedtime, we watch an episode of the Sopranos. Last night Adrianna got whacked, and tonight, I think, is season 5’s finale.  Is it the one where the Feds show up at NY Johnny’s house and send Tony walking home? We’ll see. Without other television entertainment, I find myself wondering the next day about subtleties in the last episode, or trying to picture the armies that Genghis might have had.

Even in a traveling lifestyle that is almost by definition, non-routine, we are finding a little bit of comfort in the daily minor routines.

We have mentioned Squeak a few times, and Mark reminded me that we haven’t included any interior pictures for those who have not chosen to live in a van down by the river.  So here goes...

Squeak is an Apollo brand campervan 2-berth (sleeps 2 adults) that is about 3 meters (9 ft) high and 5.5 meters (17ft) long. No Mickey D’s drive through’s! It fits almost exactly end to end in a normal parking space.

This is the back of the van with a bench-like set up including a swivel table. The tabletop is placed between the benches and with two other similar boards, a solid platform is created for a bed. It’s pretty wide and Lee – at 6’3” – doesn’t hang off the end…Though he is too tall for the ceiling, unless he stands under the top vent.

Further up is a gas stove, sink, mini fridge, and mini oven on the left and a closet and toilet/shower on the right. The microwave and air conditioner are also tucked high in the corners. There are cabinets everywhere and they hold the linens and kitchen pots and utensils that come with the van.

What we didn’t expect was the cabinets to squeak at every turn and with every swaying movement of the vehicle. Think squeaking plastic rubbing together.

The other noise is an inevitable closet door spilling open or bananas falling on the floor at the first turn of every drive. We try to remember to close all the knobs to lock the drawers in place and be sure to close the windows and the overhead vent, and then be sure everything on the sink or table has been put away…but we have almost always forgotten something. Then we start the engine and boom – this morning it was Lee’s clothes cabinet door that spilled the stack. Two days ago the entire utensil drawer littered the floor (Lee opened that one).  Is there a trend here?