DESVENTURA: FOR A "FOOT" OF MEAT AND CHEESE

Sooner or later it had to happen. We have been with the van for more than half a year and the times when the deposit is half full are counted. But every time just when the “reserve” pilot jumps miraculously we find a gas station. Every time but one ... this ...

Actually if we find a gas station halfway, we simply decided to jump, and all for a "foot" of meat and cheese. The story went like this ...

A coupon of a free cake in our hands, that of racanos we have cloth, influences as much as Florentino in the referees (if it has already hit me until the conspiracy theory culé). As this fell, I do not remember how, and there we had it, reserved for a gas station of the brand “Z”, where, with an expense of 50 dollars, they would give us an exquisite meat and cheese cake. If my friend Medina already said it, everything that is free is good.

In the middle of the road, contemplating the beautiful landscapes of the interior of the South Island of New Zealand, we looked at the deposit ... less than a quarter. I, that number I am fine, but of racano more, I adjust the calculations and they give me ample to reach the destination: Westport (now I recognize that that “excessively” that I said to Lety with my mouth full would be with a margin of no more than 10 km, without even knowing how many we could do in reserve).

Total Lety trusted me and we decided to pull forward and leave behind the gas station of the brand "Mobil" because of course, what did they offer us? Only gasoline? Actually, what they offered us was the security of reaching their destination, as it was the last gas station in the next 100 kilometers. But we wouldn't know this until the end of the trip.

We follow the route, with the reserve pilot more and more orange, waiting to reach a small town with these gas stations that seem to be taken from the movies of the 50s, but the only thing we find are mountains, rivers and a total desolation! Looking at the map we see that there are no more populations with fat points, so we have to change the tactics: we reduce the speed to an average of 50 km / h, praying for not finding any climb and considering if with the knives we carry we can hunt something in the middle of the forest for dinner ... total we already assumed that we would be thrown away.

It is getting dark at night, we have already spent 50 kilometers in reserve and we do not know how far it will reach, but we are approaching Westport and our hope begins to recover, see that if we arrive we can enter the guinness book of records ( not for making the greatest number of kilometers in reserve but for being the most cretinous uncles in the world).

10 km, 5 km, 3 km… we reduce to 40 km / h. Cars overtake us, they look at us badly, they insult us, they spit on us ... but we don't care! We see in the background a city, a city with a gas station! A gas station! A gas station with the most expensive gasoline in all of New Zealand! And it is not the "Z" brand ... so we take the minimum and hope to reach another city also in reserve ... noooooo! We didn't really fill the tank, but we put enough to follow the path the next day on the West coast.

So, what should have been a quiet day, without frights and boring became the day we almost ran out of gas in New Zealand, and all for a foot of meat and cheese ... Bonus track. The next day
We found our desired “Z” gas station and we could enjoy
this great foot, perhaps the best and worst knew us at the same time ...

In Westport we did it in a parkin behind the i-Site. We were the only ones and at midnight a group of locals came to make a bottle, although they didn't bother us too much. There are some construction bathrooms open 24 hours.