I don’t know who Tasman (or Nelson) are, but we enjoyed their namesakes.  Driving past some small falls and small towns, we arrived at Nelson Lakes park, where we’d decided to seize a sunny day.  

The climb up allowed views of the glacial lakes, and a chance for the few descending to stop and ask if we had extra layers for the top.  We did, we assured them as we put on more sun cream.  Seemed we still had a ways to go.

At the brisk top where our extra layers came out, we pretended to be on one of the many “Great walks” which are 3 day tramping (hiking) treks where you overnight at huts.  Visiting the hut may be where our quality time there ends for the moment, as a nice hot shower and bed are still faves.  

We failed to see a kiwi bird in spite of signs promising the possibility.  We also failed to find a lunch spot open at 2pm, so it as another pie for us.  The luck of the Irish wasn’t with us yet this St. Patty’s day.  So as Bostonians now, we found a pub with green balloons and a pint before calling it a day.