Crazy Man

psychopathWe had been traveling for hours, trying desperately to make our way from Christchurch to Wanaka, a journey made impossible by a satnav that seemed adamant on taking us to The North Island. The sun was beginning to set and we were growing tired of arguing with the machine so followed road signs to the closest campsite…good old-fashioned trusty road signs, they could never lead us wrong, could they?

We had been traveling New Zealand for around a month accompanied by our piece of shit satnav that had continually led us…well I guess you could say the path less travelled, including the path to a dead end up the top of a mountain and a path that stopped at a cliff edge “keep going forward for 2km” this satnav was homicidal, so we thought that a street sign saying campsite was sure to be more reliable, we were wrong, very, very wrong.

We are checked in by an over friendly owner and told to park anywhere, It became quickly apparent that we were the only guests (always take this as a sign of trouble) We figured that it was due to location because to be honest we had no idea where we were, so how was anybody else supposed to find it?

The campsite seemed lovely, there were donkeys and peacocks and bunny’s to stroke, an abandoned playground to play in and beautiful mountaintops that went on for miles and we had it all to ourselves.

We went to the communal area and began our dinner preparations; we were deep in conversation planning our route for the following day, when out of the corner of my eye I spot a man wearing a woolly bobble hat. He was sitting on a sofa, staring at us in silence. I waved to him to try to break the tension and he just continued to glare back.

He waited for us to finish eating before he approached, and he approached so sneakily that I barely noticed until he was sat beside me.

Crazy Man: “So…you folks from England?”

Me: “Yer”

Crazy Man: “Me Too!”

(He says in a thick Kiwi accent)

Crazy Man: “Where from?”

Me: “Luton”

Crazy Man: “Me Too”

Me: “Oh…what area are you from?”

Crazy Man: “What area are you from?”

Me: “Umm…Town Centre”

Crazy Man: “Me Too”

(Long pause as I try to pretend that he doesn’t exist)

Crazy Man: I was barred from England!

Me: Ok

Crazy Man: I killed someone with a knife!

On that note we got up and went back to the campervan. Earlier the seclusion seemed nice, the animals and the mountainside a hidden gem that was to be enjoyed by nobody but us. Now all I could think was there is nobody to hear our screams.

I looked out of the window and there he was, a few inches from our van just staring at it, it would seem that the satnav was not the only thing with homicide on its mind tonight. We looked back at him and he smiled the most gut wrenchingly horrific smile I have ever seen, it had I’m going to wear your skin as a jacket written all over it.

He began to approach the van as I dived for the locks and my boyfriend for the keys, and we drove, we drove all the way to Wanaka back to civilisation and as far away as possible from the crazy man.

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3 thoughts on “Crazy Man

    • I never really thought about it but I met three people who claimed to be murderers in 1 year, that is quite a lot of murderers to meet in a short space of time…I just hope that I don’t meet any more, I’m not to keen on them 😉

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