Today was my first experience on the Stray bus. I wondered for a long time how this was going to turn out and my first worry was whether they'll remember to pick me up at the hostel. I'm naturally diffident of such pleasantries but with all the importance they give to tourists here I started getting used to it. Barely five minutes after the thought crossed my mind I was seated in the front seat of the car with my first Stray driver, Doodoo.

I never expected my first Stray Bus ride to be a personal chauffeur service to Barrytown. There was nobody else going taking my same route on the day so instead of sending me by public transport Doodoo, offered to drive me there. We made the usually petty talk but at times I had to filter out the "mate", "yeah", "awesome" and "gorgeous" out before arriving at the actual content of the sentence. [All this talk about making friends then you're in the car with somebody and after you go through the weather, your country, your work and how beautiful New Zealand is, you run out of things to say. The silence becomes uncomfortable and you start moving your lips to give the impression you're singing. Who are you kidding, even a two year old can tell that you don't know the song. Stop forcing yourself to it. Given enough time you'll blend in like banana with oranges. Just give it time, but persevere.]

Doodoo has been doing this job for 4½ years which by the bus driver turnover standard makes him a veteran. He's one of those people who enjoys driving and the reason for his kindness today was that he wanted to go for a drive. When the conversation got a bit deeper I asked him what he likes best about his job and his reply impressed me. "Cool mate, I like mi job cause the people I work with are usually on holiday, and people on holiday are usually happy, ya know, it's awesome to work in a happy environment." He likes to drive too.

After we stopped for a snack in Arthur's pass, and more importantly saw the kea, we continued towards Barrytown. The scenery kept getting better with chunks of snow on trees glowing in the sunshine. It made Christmas cards look incredibly phony. I'm going to start promoting winter tourism in New Zealand. It's so undervalued yet the snow in winter makes it infinitely more scenic, you only have to be lucky that the roads aren't closed. I couldn't ask for more, I had the dot's sunshine on snow. When we arrived on the west coast the place turned flat, very green and wet.

Let's face it; unless you're traveling with Stray you're not going to Barrytown. Barrytown is a tiny village on the west cost of the south island. It's so remote that not even New Zealanders know about it, but and this is a big BUT, if you're going with a Stray Bus try to include Barrytown in the itinerary. There wasn't a single person who went to Barrytown and didn't enjoy it. I've never seen such a consensus amongst travelers about a place, it's amazing and worrying. You start thinking that there's something wrong with the other places when the first thing they mention about New Zealand is Barrytown.

There's nothing in Baretown. It's so desolate that even the cemetery is empty. It all boils down to one inn, a long sandy beach and the Croesus track. All the fun is concentrated in 3 places. There's bone carving, knife making and the pub, which also doubles as the hostel. Unfortunately we didn't arrive in time to try one of the daytime activities but they must be great. Logically I can't understand what's so special about making a knife or carving a bone but everybody mentions it. It must be one of those unexplainable things like why laundry rooms are so hilarious when you are on holiday. The knifemaker also brews his own alcohol called moonshine which is plain horrible to taste but very effective. It's like putting surgical spirit on a wound, painful but effective. I probably used the surgical spirit analogy because it tastes somewhat similar.

With no option to visit the main attractions I went up the Croesus track for about 2 ½ hours which lead me nowhere. The track continued but since I didn't have a clue where I was going I backtracked. The forest is very wet here and you can see moss growing everywhere. It rains so much in the area that rain is measured in meters. The forest also had lots of ferns although I didn't find a silver fern which is the national symbol of the country. When you turn a silver fern leaf the underside of the leaf is silver, thus the name.

After the track I went down to the beach until I was devoured by sand flies. I ended in the pub which is the last big attraction in Barrytown. I don't need to bother mentioning the name of the pub because there is only one but since I remembered it anyway it was called the All Nations. The pub is an amazingly lively place, and people seem to grow out of nowhere to come here. There are lots of pictures that testify the wild nights that have taken place here. The cook Rusty deserves an honourable mention. He lives in a house without electricity and is also the handyman and the cook. The only thing that should convince you that the food is safe is the fact that I'm still alive. At least the Barry Burger I ate was safe.

The night I was in Barrytown there was a concert going on and I went to see what's up. The concert was in a big abandoned wooden warehouse, very uncharacteristic as a gig location but very cool at the same time. There were 3 bands touring all of whom I met before at the pub. The main act was by an instrumental rock band called 'Jakob'. The most original were 'Operational Thunderstorm', a 2 band piece with drums and guitars but no vocals. The third band was 'City city city' an Australian band from Melbourne and these got the crowd really going. There were about 50 people but from where they turned up only God knows.

View the complete Barrytown Gallery here