Wonders of Wanaka

Following my adventure filled days in Queenstown, I had hoped to get out of town mid-afternoon, giving me time to find an adequate place to park the van and stay for the night along some abandoned road, but that didn't quite happen. I lingered around the town much longer than expected, so it was already dark by the time I went back to the van, ready to leave town. Not knowing where I'd go, I headed East of out of town along the main road, but just before getting out of the little city, I remembered seeing a few campervans the night before right along the road, and I saw one or two of them in the same spot, so I decided that I'd join in and hope for the best. Basically, it was a wide part of the main road, along the lakefront, in front of one of the last hotels in town, so I just parked along the curb, closed the curtains around me and hoped that each and every passing set of headlights was not a city official telling me that I couldn't sleep there. A few cars did pull up behind me for long periods of time, as I tried to peek through the window to assess the situation, though I couldn't see much other than two bright headlights. I didn't get the best or most relaxing sleep, but the spot served its purpose, and I woke up at sunrise, took a few pictures, put on some clothes (maybe those last two were done in opposite order), then went on my way.

My next stop was a small town just over a scenic mountain pass called Wanaka. Based on what I'd read, it was supposed to be a similarly pretty mountain town wrapped around a lake, yet without all of the hype and craze of Queenstown. In my mind, I knew I'd like the city before even seeing it, and the first impression lived up to the expectations. As the main road split at the head of the lake, I headed towards the town centre and saw an appealing exhibit along the side of the road and walkway hugging the lakefront. Every twenty feet, there is a large placard, approx 5 feet tall by 3 feet wide, with beautiful aerial images of different countries of the world, along with facts and locations about the pictures and general facts about pollution, over-population, deforestation, etc. These images are taken from the Earth From Above book, and there are about 100 of them displayed along the side of the road. Also along the walkway is a string of 2000 tiles, each one representing a year from 0 to 2000 AD, with short facts about any major event during that year printed on the appropriate tile, apparently as a part of the millennium project in this city. The rest of the city wasn't quite as impressive, but it is a great, laid back place - a nice contrast to Queenstown.

I spent most of the day walking around the stores and cafes of the city, and then I found a nice motor camp along the lake just outside of town. Based on a nondescript map I had, I decided to head back to the other side of Mt. Aspiring National Park, as I had read about another great one day trek towards the Rob Roy Glacier. The main road quickly disappeared, and I was soon on a gravel road, meandering through cattle and sheep farms, flanked by large mountains covered in yellow and green grasses on both sides, along with a light blue river running alongside the road. Blanco (the van) and I made a few shallow river crossings without too much trouble, and about an hour down the gravel road, we found the signpost for Blueberry Creek and the Rob Roy glacier walk. The walk first passed through another field of humongous cattle which didn't seem to mind people, luckily, since I had to walk right between a few of them, and they looked as if they could eat me in one bite if they wanted. I pretended to be a vegetarian, and I think they sensed it, so they let me pass. Soon after, I crossed a swinging bridge over the main river (like the one from Indiana Jones, but without the alligators, and not nearly as high, and a little safer, and without people chasing me), and I was into the beech forest that covers nearly all of the park.

The heavily wooded trail ascends the narrow glacial valley, with a few creek crossings and rockfall areas where you are told not to stop and look around. Along the river, huge boulders line the edges and alter its path, creating some small waterfalls and a pleasant sound for the walk. After passing through the final grove of beech trees and ferns, the vegetation suddenly changes to low-lying bushes, revealing a huge granite cliff face with a spectacular single stream of water flowing over its steep edge. A few minutes beyond this cliff, the entire Rob Roy glacier comes into view, revealing a rock amphitheater covering one side of the mountain. The top is covered in the massive glacier, and the lower half is rock with channels carved by the waterfalls from the melting water streaming down the mountain. After staring in awe for quite a while, I counted at least 14 large waterfalls down the side of the rock face. Soon after, a few thundering cracks drew our attention to the lower tip of the glacier where a large chunk of ice and resulting debris came tumbling down the mountain, looking as though it were in slow motion as the waterfalls gushed, the rocks spun and leaped down the wall, and the snow fell from one precipice to another. Fortunately, we were viewing this all from the other side of the steep valley, so we weren't in any danger.

I admired the incredible site for about an hour and a half before forcing myself to move on and return to the car, so that I could get back to town before the sun set. The descent was much easier, and the thick vegetation on the way down was just as pleasant. Leaving the park, I encountered many more cows and a few large flocks of sheep. At one point, a farmer was moving his entire flock, so I stopped Blanco, and we observed the one to two thousand sheep that passed by. Some ran at first, but they soon realized I wasn't going to hit them, so they became more comfortable and a few of the older ones that appeared to have either vision problems or delusions of invincibility came straight into the van before turning away at the very last second, realizing that I wasn't budging. The dramatic scenery and isolation of the Southern Alps in this area was exactly what I had hoped to find on my trip to New Zealand, so I was quite content with my day in the woods, as I returned to Wanaka for another peaceful night.

Today I was planning to drive towards the center of the island to get a view of Mt. Cook, but there is a large storm coming in that has completely covered the mountain, so I think I may just hang out here for another day or two, enjoying the tranquility. I did a quick two hour hike to the top of the mountain overlooking the city and adjoining lakes this morning, preceded by a visit to the Puzzling World, an eclectic sort of amusement park at the edge of town. Built in 1973 and continually updated, it contains rooms of illusions, holograms, tricks, and a huge human maze. One of the circular rooms has the entire wall covered in faces of Lincoln, Mother Teresa, Einstein, and others that follow you around the room as you move side to side, up and down. Another room is built at a 15 degree slant, driving people crazy and featuring a few exhibits that make it look like water is flowing uphill or a chair is sliding uphill. The maze was also quite interesting, as you had to find each of the towers in the four corners, then find your way back to the finish. They say that most people walk in between 2 and 3 miles during the experience, and it took me about 30-35 minutes to get through, so that's probably about right. There's also a leaning clock tower outside built at a 53 degree angle (the leaning tower of Pisa is 6 degrees), along with a few other odd buildings. Depending on what the weather looks like, I may stay another day or two here, which wouldn't be a problem with me. In fact, they actually have a Mexican restaurant here, so I may splurge tonight. I've been craving it since I left...

(The early morning sun rising over The Remarkables mountain range above Queenstown from my roadside camping location)

(The road from Queenstown to Wanaka - quite nice)

(The Earth From Above exhibit along the main street of Wanaka)

(One cloud for each mountain in Mt. Aspiring National Park. Everything is equitable here in New Zealand.)

(The walk up to Rob Roy glacier)

(Rob Roy glacier and the resulting waterfalls...incredible, yet hard to picture with the sun right behind. You'll just have to come see it yourself.)

(Another bigger waterfall just to the left of the previous picture)

(Huge cow that didn't seem to mind me walking by, luckily)

(Breaking the mold...there's always one of them in the group)

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Queenstown Part 2 - More Adventure, More Money

Saving the craziest experience for last, I had plenty of time to rethink and doubt my decision to sign up for the canyon swing. I even waited until the very last second to book it, continually talking myself out of it, but then realizing that I'd regret not doing it. One of the newer activities in the area, it's much like bungy, but it's more of a swing instead of a jolt as you hit the bottom of the rope. Basically, you drive out to a nearby picturesque canyon, walk out to a platform suspended 330 feet above the river below, jump off the platform, scream, pass out, wet yourself, etc, freefall for 180 feet, then start a huge arc with the swing as you reach speeds of about 90 mph, then you are winched back up to the platform as you try to regain your senses. I never liked the thought of bungy, though I had always thought I might want to do sky-diving, so I figured that I'd give this activity a try after hearing some rave reviews, including one from my kayaking guide that said it was "silly." (which in Kiwi slang means amazing, apparently)

Arriving in the building, I was already a bit nervous, as was the Japanese couple on their honeymoon behind me, as they tried with some broken English to cancel this portion of their trip, but they weren't allowed to cancel that close to departure time, so they just went along for the ride. We drove up to the canyon after watching a safety video that basically scared us more, showing different jumping/departing methods and the steep canyon walls and river below. We got to the canyon quickly, and things were pretty quiet as people made small talk and thought about what they were about to do. Some time during the car ride, the Japanese guy decided that he'd do the jump, since he'd already paid the money. He also was talked into doing the "Indian Rope Trick," though I don't know that he knew what he agreed to. This method ties you up to the ropes, then they have a smaller rope hanging out over the edge where you hang on for dear life as long as possible before giving in and having to let go, sending you falling into the canyon. The guides also liked to have a bit of fun with the guests and try to scare them a bit more, so after securing all of the safety ropes and hanging him out over the edge, they both started yelling "No! No! Yuki, don't let go!!" Of course, he couldn't really do anything at this point, but I'm sure it really worked to scare him even more, if that's possible. A few other people chose a method where they sort of push you off with your back to the canyon, so you don't have to look down too much, but the guides kept grabbing the rope, holding them out over the abyss, then pulling them back in at the last second. Another method by one of my group members was sitting back in a plastic chair that they attached to his harness and simply leaning back in your chair, sending you spinning through the air, but they also messed with him and pushed the chair back and forth for an agonizingly long time. They also have a video camera overhead and attached to the guide's hat, so we were able to watch everything on video from the platform, seeing the faces of fear, regret, despair, anger, and more close up.

I was the last one in our group, and by the time it was my turn, I could feel my legs shaking a bit. I'd been suited up with the harness for a while and had seen all of the other jumps. Despite trying to stay calm, it gets harder and harder to do that the closer you get to the edge of the platform. Also, I gave my camera to one of the spectators beforehand to get a few pictures of me on the edge, but that was the last thing in my mind once I got a look down. There was music playing and a few other people around, but I certainly don't remember being able to pay any attention to them. I had decided to do the frontwards jump, meaning that I'd try a bit of a swan dive into the canyon. I figured if I was going to do this, I'd like to be able to look down and see the drop to get the full effect. I tied in to the cables, and then I was ready to go, as the guides began to talk to me, trying to scare me. They pointed out the spots below where it looked like someone had hit and slid down the rock, wondered if my blood would spatter everywhere, just things like that. I tried to remain calm and not worry about it, and I think I did a pretty good job until reaching the edge. I put my toes over the edge for a few seconds, which then turned into almost a minute as the guides continued to talk, and I tried to avoid thinking about what I had noticed as I glanced below...the sheer drop. Such a beautiful, peaceful canyon, about to become a place of torment. Eventually the guide asked if I was actually going to do it, though I was never 100% sure that I was completely tied in, so then he said that I should go ahead and put my arms out. "Like now..." he said, so I put my arms out a bit and felt his foot pushing in behind mine, nudging me forward. So, I kept my arms out and did my best attempt at a jump, which turned out to be more of a step forward and tiny hop. The images in my mind of a graceful, fully extended swan dive didn't quite materialize, as I knew they wouldn't, though I did manage to go facing front while looking down. The immediate fear escalated as I could feel the speed picking up and watched the canyon walls speed by, faster and faster. I could feel my stomach high up in my chest, and I hoped that the rope would catch. I was in sort of a standing position, each nano-second becoming more and more scared and the ground approached. I started to turn a bit as the ropes did catch, though the speed hardly slowed down, and I circled down to the bottom of the canyon and close to the river below as I made the huge arc created by the ropes. After the ropes caught, I turned and had my head facing down and my feet sticking straight up in the arms, arms outstretched as I think my body couldn't fathom any sort of movement as I was in a bit of shock, but I was able to enjoy the swing as I started to breathe again and became more aware of the surroundings again. I could feel the blood rush in my head and looked around to see what was next, though I was just looking at the upside down walls of a canyon. Then I felt the winch pulling me back up to the platform, finally managing to spin myself around into a sitting position before making it back up to the top and firmly grabbing on to the platform the moment that I could put my feet down. Exhilarated and superbly frightened, I walked back off the platform, took the harness off and assessed my situation. I had made the jump completely safely, though my head was still spinning and my body still wasn't quite working properly. I looked back out at the jump that I had just made, proud to have had the courage to make it but ready to get back to solid ground. I climbed back up the stairs with my heart continuing to race, and I finally felt myself calming as I got in the building. Of course, I had to pay a bit more money to buy the picture of me jumping, but I couldn't forget this moment.

To see a generic video of it, some pictures or more information, check out http://www.canyonswing.co.nz/ The video on the homepage is pretty good.

(The platform and canyon below)

(There's me just as I'm jumping off the platform, away from the ridicules and taunts from the guides)

(Here's the official picture - you can see that my glorious swan dive was a bit of a flop, but I did manage to keep my arms out, so that's good)

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Mt. Aspiring National Park and Dart River

So, after my day of jetboating, I went for a more serene jetboating trip (if those words can be used together) up the Dart River, into Mt. Aspiring National Park, a beautiful park full of beech trees, snow capped mountains, glacial blue-green rivers, white rock beds and the set for many movies including Lord of the Rings (Isengard and something else), Willow, Vertical Limit, and currently the set of the sequel to the Chronicles of Narnia (we saw the trailers and trucks). We began with the jet boat up the river, skidding along, needing only 4 inches of water to operate when planing, which is just about what we got in some of the wider points of the rocky river. Our driver did take us by some close rocks and trees, but this was a more scenic trip than the previous one, allowing me to take a few pictures along the way. We passed through miles of untouched forests, learned about the names and history of the park (many of the mountains are named after Greek and Roman gods), and ended up 17 km up the river. At this point, we jumped out, joined our new guides and proceeded to pump up our inflatable kayaks. As a single traveller, I was afraid that I'd get stuck with some random tourist that would tip our boat and go on and on with some inane chatter, but I was lucky to be paired with the guide, meaning that I'd have little or no paddling to do on the trip. In addition to going downstream, we had a bit of wind behind us, so steering was most of what needed to be done other than a few rapids that required paddling, and I was fine with relaxing and enjoying the superb scenery. Earlier, it looked like the rain was coming, but it held off for the day and provided some nice clouds for the pictures, so that worked out well.

We kayaked down the river, shouting directions to a few of the tourists that decided not to listen to the instructions and laughing at the English couple that fell out of their boat. We then pulled up to a small fork in the river, where we pulled the boats upstream to an incredible area with a slot canyon with white walls about 30 feet high that looked amazing in stark contrast to the blue water. We paddled into the canyon, took a quick break, then we turned around and headed back towards the white pebble beach for a great lunch buffet. Since the guides were going to have to carry all of the leftovers back, I helped them out by having two huge sandwiches, each with four types of meat, toppings, sauce, etc along with a dessert of a few oranges, some pineapple, watermelon, kiwi fruit and a bunch of pastries.

We headed back down the river after lunch, and we passed through an area called Chinaman's Bluff. Apparently during the 1800s, the Chinese were treated as 4th class citizens here in New Zealand (no, I don't know what the other classes were), so the Europeans told them that there was a lot of gold in that area, just to get them out of the town. Later on, still passing through the beautiful park, we ended up right where the set for Narnia was stationed, where we met our shuttle bus for the ride back. Just a few minutes from the pickup point, we passed through a tiny area called Paradise, for obvious reasons. A much more relaxing activity for the day, I was really glad that I did decide to fork over the money for this adventure, though I figured that I might have the courage and money for one more activity the next day in Queenstown...

(The mountains and lake at the start of our jetboat trip)

(Kayaking through the narrow canyon)

(Another view along the water of the typical Mt. Aspiring scenery)

(Is that a mountain man kayaking along??? Nope, it's just me and my sweet beard. Yes, it's pathetic and I think about shaving it every day, but it's also quite a novelty for me.)

(Beautiful kayaking and fairly clear skies as we float down the river)

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Queenstown - Adrenalin Capital of the World

Seriously, that's what they say. Though a tiny town, it's covered in tourists and adventure activities - a ski town in the winter and center of insanity in the summer. Every other building on the main street is a booking center for bungee jumps, canyon swings, jet boats, white water rafting, kayaking, river surfing on body boards, rock climbing, sky diving, etc. With all of these activities, many tourists blow through their budgets in just a day or two, with each couple hour trip costing around $100 or 200. As I pulled into the picturesque town right along an attractive mountain lake, backed by the mountain range aptly named The Remarkables, I saw people walking the streets and parachutes in the sky. Typically, I try to stay away from the over-touristed areas like this, but Queenstown is a place that you can't really pass up. For my first day, I decided to do one of the adventure activities - the jet boat through Shotover Canyon. A super high-powered boat with a custom engine designed for just this purpose flies through the narrow rocky canyons of the region, skidding along the top of the water, twisting and turning and passing just inches away from the sheer rock walls, reaching speeds of 50 mph. I'd seen some videos of this on tv, and it was one of the ones that I really wanted to do, so I immediately booked my trip and was headed out that afternoon.

We drove a few minutes out of town, put on some jackets and life jackets, and the 10 of us piled into the last boat of the day. Our driver was a crazy Australian named Olly, who played up the psycho bit by humming a simple, repetitive tune the whole time through our 30 minute trip up the canyon, not being affected by the walls or rocks screaming by our noses. I was fortunate to be in the front seat with him, giving me a great, terrifying view of the action. The green water and beautiful rock walls quickly blurred as he threw the boat into gear and performed a few of their patented 360 spins, spraying all of the passengers in the process. He was even challenged by one of our passengers, so he managed a 540 spin as well. Basically, the boats work on some propulsion system with 500 hp, allowing it much more control and speed than typical boats, permitting us to slide within inches of the walls while still maintaining control, though you begin to doubt the driver at times when impending death looks to be in your future.

Of course, we made it through safely and jumped on the bus back to town before I gave in and decided to book another expensive activity for the next day - a jet boat and kayak trip through a nearby national park. I then headed up the road and found a nice lodge where I could park the van for the night, just in time to have a bit to eat and get some rest.

(Lake Wakatipu on the way to Queenstown)

(One of the main rivers just outside of town...I had to run back on the one way bridge and dodge cars to get this picture, so appreciate it)

(A view of one of the jetboats sliding in through the rocks)

(From the bridge above, again avoiding cars and disdainful stares)

(Jet boat, obviously)

(One more time)

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Mulling About Milford Sound

Entering Fiordland National Park, I was immediately in awe of the massive, jagged peaks in every direction. The highlight of this park is the unbelievable Milford Sound, so the rest of the park gets a bit overshadowed, but it is nothing sort of amazing. Pushing the van up and down the hills and winding roads, I had trouble keeping my eyes on the road with all of the scenery. I was told that it was about two hours from Te Anau to Milford Sound, but my drive quickly extended into a four or five hour journey with the stops and inspiring views around every bend. I was also lucky to have perfect blue skies in an area that is known for its rain, with over 200 days of rain a year. At one point, I reached Homer Tunnel, a 1 km downhill tunnel with no lights carved through one of the mountains. Since the tunnel is dark and small, there is a stoplight on each side that changes every 15 minutes, so as I waited for the light, I noticed one other car alongside me taking pictures as some of the large green alpine parrots called keas came in and started playing on her car. These birds are supposed to be one of the smartest bird species, and there are only about 5,000 in the world, so they are protected species and are definitely not afraid of humans. They are renowned for picking through peoples' cars and bags while attended or unattended, opening backpacks, removing windshield wipers and such. Knowing their reputation, I hoped that they wouldn't bother me, but they quickly shifted their attention. In fact, they remind me a bit of the velociraptors from Jurassic Park as they turned and looked at me out of the side of their eyes, made a few bird calls, then two of them headed over. Not wanting car damage or any problems, I honked as they approached, but apparently they've seem that bluff before and continued walking around, examining the car. Luckily, they seemed more interested in the car behind me, and I saw one of them jump on top of the car just as the light turned green and I pulled into the tunnel.

So excited to see Milford Sound, knowing that I was just minutes away, I rolled down the hill through the dark tunnel, hitting bumps that I couldn't see, bouncing around, hoping no cars were approaching because I was driving way too fast for such a road with no sight ahead. Just minutes later, I made it to the sound and saw the sight that had inspired me so many times before to put this area way up on my Must See list - Mitre Peak at the entrance to the sound. The peaceful water is surrounded by towering peaks coming straight out of the water, many of them over 5,000 feet high, at impossibly steep angles. I took a few pictures before darkness came, and I was lucky to find availability at the hostel's carpark for my campervan, as I would have otherwise had to drive an hour out to the nearest pull-out along one of the other lakes that I had passed earlier. With such nice weather, I also booked a two hour cruise departing early the next morning, hoping to get more beautiful views of the fjord. I set my watch alarm and got up right at sunrise, in time to notice the great surroundings of the parking lot, next to the river and more huge mountains, but I hurried to the sound to see it as the sun came over top of the mountains. I scurried out onto the rocks that were revealed by the low tide and took a few pictures as my hands trembled in the cold morning and batted away a few of the pesky sandflies that the area is known for. I spent about an hour marvelling at the entire area and the great day that I had been given, with little to no clouds on the spot that the tour brochures call moody and mystical, so that visitors aren't disappointed when they arrive to find an area of rain and clouds, awe-inspiring nonetheless. Worrying that I hadn't recharged my camera in a while, just on cue, my batteries of one camera gave out after just a few pictures, and the spares hadn't been charged, so I headed back to the hostel to give them a 20 minute charge and a quick shower before speeding back to the boat dock for my 8:55 cruise.

I didn't really know anything about my cruise company, but it turned out to be quite a good one. Four or five different companies operate in the water, giving visitors a choice of about 20 or 30 cruises a day, though many of them book up quickly. Mine was the first one leaving in the morning, meaning that the water was still glassy and reflective, and we got to be a few minutes ahead of every one else, not having to be staring at another boat ahead of us the whole time. I also chose one of the smaller ones with only 75 people instead of 200, though we ended up with only about 30 people on the boat, so the trip was great. We headed alongside the huge mountains, stopping and cruising underneath the waterfalls, in disbelief of the size and grandeur of this place. The pictures can't do justice to the massive scale of everything in this park. We covered the entire sound (actually a misnamed fjord - stupid Welsh guy), reached the rough Tasman Sea about 900 miles East of Tasmania, then turned around for the return trip where we saw more and more unbelievable mountains, cliffs, overhangs and tranquil water and even a few more sea lions. One point called the overhang is a completely vertical cliff that rises over 2,100 feet straight up from the water. Amazed by the beauty of the park and luck that I had with such a beautiful day, I headed back out of the park for a bit of hiking.

One of the guides at the information center had recommended a place called Key Summit along one of the four day Great Walks of New Zealand, the Routeburn Track, which was supposed to provide great views of the whole area on a sunny day like I had. I grabbed my jacket (they say that the weather can change in minutes, even when it looks nice) and jumped on the trail, full of more thick forest, ferns, moss, and even a nice waterfall. After passing through that vegetation zone, I got into the higher elevations and thinner vegetation of mosses and shrubs, giving me a view of steep mountain peaks in every direction. Bits of this area seemed to remind me of pictures of the Swiss Alps with the exposed granite faces and forest below. I talked to a few people at the top (one couple from Rome, Georgia), and then I headed back, but I immediately started feeling dizzy and light-headed. I slowed down just a bit, but I think the problem was the resulting low from my sugar and adrenalin high after finally seeing Milford Sound and finishing off another bag of sour worms. Without incident, I made it back to the car and proceeded to make a sandwich and some chips before heading out of the park. Even after seeing so many pictures, the park was still amazing and unfathomable, leaving me in a state of awe.

(The towering mountains along the road leading in to Milford Sound)

(Milford Sound at early morning, before the cruise boats and sun hits the water)

(One of the numerous peaks along the cruise)

(Note the large cruise ship that's the tiny white dot in the front right corner of the picture to give a bit of perspective)

(I think this is the second highest permanent waterfall - thousands more appear when it rains)

(The face of Milford Sound and Fiordland National Park- Mitre Peak, somewhere around 5,200 feet high)

(The lush forest up to Key Summit on the Routeburn Track)

(The view from atop Key Summit and the surrounding mountains)

(Sheep are everywhere. Seriously, you do see a lot of them on hillsides.)

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On the Road Again

Leaving Dunedin after my last minute errands and grocery shopping, I headed down the Southern Scenic Route, following the rocky coast to an area called the Catlins. Very few people live in this area, so there were plenty of great views of isolated fields, more rolling hills, sheep, cattle, and a few deer. The campervan was in full effect, and it seems like it is going to work out great. I basically headed down the coast, not knowing where I'd end up, but that was part of the fun of the journey. As I made my way through, I spotted a sign for Nugget Beach, an area that I'd heard Dave and Rachel rave about a few days earlier, so I figured I may as well turn off and take the gravel road out to the point. Hugging the coastline, climbing and falling, the road eventually lead to a car park (parking lot) and a short trail to the lighthouse and point overlooking some rocks that apparently resemble gold nuggets to someone. Being at the point of the coast, it was extremely windy and tiny bits of rain were coming and going, so I didn't spend too long on the point, but it was worth the drive. I did see and hear a few baby sea lions playing on the rocks a hundred feet below, squealing like little children as they swam in and out of the puddles trapped in between the rocks. On the way back, there was another viewing point for the elusive yellow-eyed penguin, so I stopped to try my luck again. I walked the five minute trail down to the hideout and immediately spotted one penguin sitting at the edge of the beach below. Soon, a few more had come in, surfing the waves up to the beach, then looking like a bug that had been flipped upside down as it struggled to push itself from its stomach to its feet, then waddling along the beach towards the grassy hills. I saw four different penguins come in like this, then two of them went back to play in the water a bit more just before dusk set in. Watching them walk and hop awkwardly along the rocks, you can tell that they weren't made for the land, but you have to credit them for their determination. They're such little troopers. You can't teach heart.

Anyway, I headed away from the penguin encounter glad to have seen more than the few dormant ones at Sandfly Bay and eventually found an adequate spot for my first night - a gravel pull-out at the Southeastern tip of the South Island, overlooking a hill and nice beach below. Another backpacker was sleeping in his Subaru station wagon just up the road, so I felt like I'd be ok in what the Kiwis call "Freedom Camping." I made a makeshift dinner of some peanut butter sandwiches and an elegant breakfast of dry Cocoa Krispies and some trail mix, made my bed, brushed my teeth, put on some deodorant (for that showered experience without the shower - tricky), and then I was back on the road. My plan is to camp along the road most nights, staying at hostels or campervan parks when I need to recharge my batteries (no, I wouldn't use a stupid cliche like that, I'm talking about my camera and iPod batteries), have a nice place to cook my pasta, or just seek a bit of human interaction after some long hours in the car, enjoying the scenery and the radio or iPod. Luckily, this radio does pick up the normal stations, though the display is broken, so I've just been pressing some buttons until I found out how to change modes and seek for the strongest signals, but I lived with a car with no display all through college, so it's no big deal.

Still without a real plan, I do know that my next trip will be heading up the West coast into Fiordland National Park, an area of incredible fjords and glacial lakes that I've read about hundreds of times before. I also must admit that I stopped at Burger King in Invercargill, at the very Southern tip of the island, and I was impressed to see that they have some specialty burgers with things like pineapple and mango, though I just opted for the cheap stuff. Keep that in mind, though, if any of you are craving a low quality burger and some exotic toppings...New Zealand is only a day away.

(A rainbow along the side of the road, as if the regular scenery wasn't impressive enough...oh wait, is that a second one along side? Barely.)(The nuggets of Nugget Point)

(A few of the yellow-eyed penguins resting after a bit of waddling)

(My view upon awakening the first morning on the road)

(Some random broken down house and that tree next to it)

(Lake Manapouri, on the way to Fiordland)

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Starting the South Island - Dunedin

Picking me up from the airport, I met my friend David, a friendly British guy that I had met in Chile about four years ago and kept in touch with via email and soccer stories. He ended up meeting a girl from New Zealand that was living at the time in the UK, so he followed her down to Dunedin, where he's been for maybe about a year now. I'm not good with details. I do know that they are getting married at an amazing castle overlooking the bay and the beautiful green hills of the Otago peninsula - I think on January 3 of this upcoming year. David and Rachel were incredibly accommodating, providing me with a place to stay for a while, meanwhile making my plans and preparing a few things for the South Island. So, we met up for a long overdue drink and dinner, picking up Rachel along the way for another good meal of Indian food. A few days later, David even invited me to come along with his soccer/football (depends on which team member you ask) team for a road trip to one of their games an hour South of town. Of course I jumped at the opportunity to come along, and it was the kind of trip that brings to mind the old college roads trips, with the guys talking about girls, drinking, fighting and all that macho stuff while I sat back and enjoyed. When we arrived, the second team even needed a player, so I had my stuff ready and suited up, thanks to some extra gear that David provided me. Our game ended up in a 0-0 tie, with a few close chances, but I was never able to pull out a goal for us, though I was playing defense most of the game. Excuses, excuses - I still should have scored one. On the adjacent field, David and the team were in a close match that had caused a lot of trepidation and fright among some of the players, as they were matched up with a team two divisions ahead of them for what looked like it might be a beating. On the way down, we also heard that the team was a bunch of big rugby players, prone to fighting and other things, so that didn't help the impressions. Amazingly, David minded the nets, held the opponents to two goals, and they were able to pull out a last minute winner to prevail 3-2. Well done.

After the game, the mixed group of Scots, Kiwis, a few Brits and two Americans headed for the clubhouse where beer quickly flowed. Pints of empty bottles soon scattered the tables, and then the coach of the other team got up, made a speech about the game, thanked us for coming, named players of the game, then treated us to a nice little feast of finger foods, pizza, fried bits of goodness and more. I was amazed and delighted by the hospitality after the match, and the road trip was a great experience. Little did I know that it wasn't over. Before even leaving town, the 10 person bus stopped at the supermarket where we picked up a few cases of beer for the road. Everyone, except the driver of course, had a beer in hand as we departed the town, and the players didn't seem to stop the whole way home. If that weren't enough, about halfway back to Dunedin, we stopped at a tiny pub along the road for a few pitchers before trying to anger the locals with some cheesy music and then receiving a few parting words as we walked out the door. Next, we went to another player's house for his birthday party with some great BBQ food and more drinks. A few of the players were getting a little drunk by this point and feeling some effects of the sun from the game, though they ridiculed me and David for putting on sunscreen beforehand. True Southern Men don't do that kind of stuff, but that's alright...we're not from there. One of the more drunken players had some strange fascination with the American drinking game Quarters, so I had to teach him that, though there's not really much to it. Following all of this, most of the team went downtown for more drinks and partying, though I was tired and ready to head back, so I stopped by and jumped in bed while they continued to celebrate St. Patrick's Day until about 3 am that next morning.

Other than the match, I mostly just relaxed and enjoyed feeling like I was back home again. I can't thank David and Rachel enough for this great time that they invited me into their home. I wasted a few days relaxing, not having to worry about where to go and what to do every day, watching soccer on tv, using the internet without being timed, etc. It was a much appreciated break, and I really had a hard time getting myself on the road again. Speaking of the road, I had mentioned getting a campervan as a way to travel the country earlier, and it turned out that David was selling his, so it gave me the perfect opportunity to buy one that I knew (or hope) would be reliable and serviced. It's nothing spectacular to look at, but it's nice and simple and well-maintained - a 1989 Toyota van that used to be one of those ten passenger vans before the former owner ripped out all but the front seats and put a wooden stand with a mattress and mini table in the back, along with some privacy curtains (that don't quite cover the whole window, so I hope people don't mind the sight of my feet), with only about 65,000 miles on it and including cookware, a gas cooker, chilly bin (ice chest/cooler), sheets, etc. Once I leave Dunedin, this will be my mode of transport and lodging for most of the next month, and I'll take it across the ferry to the North Island, where I'll hopefully be able to sell it. A lot of people recommend this as a great way to see the country, and it's supposed to be fairly easy to sell at the end. Waiting until the last minute, as I always do, I had to rush around town to take care of a few things such as insurance and trying to get money to pay David on the last day, but it wasn't too bad, as David and Rachel had done much of the legwork for me.

In addition, after work, David took me around to a few of the local attractions including the University of 20,000 students, the world's steepest street and parts of the surrounding Otago peninsula. One night, we walked down the steep sand dunes for about 30 minutes to Sandfly Bay, one of the few places in the world to see yellow-eyed penguins. David had been there a few times before, and as we waited in the cold, windy booth that keep the penguins from being scared away by people, he recounted the other times of seeing numbers of penguins come surfing in and hopping their way along the shore and up the hills to their nests, though the ones that came out that day were scarce. In fact, we only saw two of them that had already made their way halfway up the hill and seemed to be staying there for the night. We also saw a few sea lions, one of which was sleeping on the beach, and it was a fun experience, though the quantity of wildlife left a bit to be desired. We also visited Tunnel Beach, a rocky area full of grasslands and cliffs where a wealthy landowner actually carved a huge tunnel through the cliffs down to the water to give beach access to his daughter. The beach wasn't all that big or impressive, but the cliffs certainly were worth the walk.

Once again, thank you to David and Rachel for being so nice and providing me with a place to stay and food and everything else. I couldn't have asked for anything more.

(Sandfly Bay, in search of yellow-eyed penguins and sea lions)

(The sleeping sea lion awoke for a few seconds, took a look around, then resumed looking much like a log laying on the beach)


(Walking down to Tunnel Beach, looking a little like England)

(Sitting, no longer walking, at the lookout above Tunnel Beach)

(The South side of Dunedin and the Pacific)

(The steepest street in the world - Baldwin Street)

(A nice, old looking building at the University)

(My campervan - transport and accommodation for the next month or so)

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Windy Welly

One night in prison was enough for me - what happens in prison, stays in prison. It's like Las Vegas in a way, really, though lacking the annoying commercials. Down from Napier, I followed the coast South, as the rain finally started to catch up to me. In spite of the rain, I still had an eventful drive, made better by a few key purchases. The way most of the small towns here are set up, the speed limit slows and the main road heads right through the middle of town, passing by a few blocks of a supermarket, restaurant or two, information booth, an overpriced gas station and a few other random stores before disappearing as quickly as they came. Passing through one small town, I saw a sports store, and I've been in search of a cheap pair of hiking boots the whole trip, so I figured I'd stop in and take a look. The boots weren't cheap enough, but I did find a cheap pair of Adidas sandals, to replace the painful ones that I bought in Fiji to replace the ones I gave to the Swiss guy in Tahiti. The Fijian ones were really, really cheap, and it showed, so I didn't mind replacing them. I'm still having trouble throwing them away, though, since I want to at least give them to someone else to use, or to be miserable with. In the next town, I saw a store called The Warehouse, and I just continued driving by, but something about the store seemed like it had potential to me. A few debates within my head and a U-turn later, I headed back and ran into the store as the rain poured down. Exactly as I had hoped, I had stumbled upon the NZ version of Wal-Mart. And, no, I don't get this excited about Wal-Mart back home, but this was exactly what I had been searching for. I went into the shoe section, and my selection was a bit limited by the assortment of sizes, but I found a great pair of boots for US$21. Two small, seemingly insignificant purchases, but they made my day. I actually had them in my front seat with me, so I could look at them as I drove. Pathetic, yes. And to add to the brilliant/pathetic scene, the radio gods again granted me a favor in playing Queen's "I Want to Break Free" on the one station, so there I was, cruising through the heavy rain in the middle of a few corn fields and valleys in Nowhere, New Zealand with the radio blaring, a pair of shoes and sandals in the seat next to me, and a huge grin on my face.

Nearing Wellington, I came to a huge mountain pass, which tested the strength of my car. Along with the steep and extremely windy road, looking over steep cliffs, the rain and especially the wind had picked up as I gained elevation. The wind was whipping around the corners at what was said to be about 40-50 miles per hour, and it actually was a force to be reckoned with as my car would significantly slow every time I turned a corner into the battering wind. At one point, two softball sized rocks fell from the overhang just to the side of my car, giving me another thing to worry about, as they would have definitely cracked my windshield if I were a few feet further over, which was not a good thought in the pouring rain, on top of a mountain, especially given my horrible insurance policy and $2,000 deductible from the rental company. Later, I also heard that my friend was hit head-on on that road by someone driving too fast and losing control around a turn, but I made it out without a scratch. Soon, I was in Wellington, the capital of the country. I drove the backroads for a little while, passing again and again where the hostel was supposed to be, so I parked along the steep road, fought my way across the traffic and found the hostel hidden behind a tiny sign that is in no way visible from the road. As it turns out, the hostel was fully booked, so I rain through the rain to the next one, which was also fully booked. I got back to the car and found a few more options on the other side of town, so I made my way through the construction and one way streets to another hostel that wasn't open at the moment. My final option was a hostel just down the road, and it turned out to have availability and a parking lot, so it was perfect.

I did my obligatory walking tour of the city just before the sun set, as I find it a great way to get a feel for a city. Wellington, or Welly or Windy Welly, as the locals call it, has much of a San Francisco feel with a lot of walking areas, steep hills and buildings wrapped around a large U-shaped bay. I walked down the main pedestrian roads, drooled over the menus of a few places from the window, and then I continued down to the waterfront. The business district and a huge museum called Te Papa, exhibiting the natural history of New Zealand, sit right on the water, along with a few other nice looking buildings just a few blocks inland. Looking at some prices and assessing my cravings, I went with the very American option of Domino's Pizza. I know it's bad and wrong and everything, but it really sounded good, and it was cheap, so I ordered a pizza and waited for it to be made, just as more rain started coming down. Following the excruciating 10 minute wait, I grabbed the pizza box and ran back to the hostel, about 3/4 of a mile up a steep hill, through the rain. Luckily, the pepperoni was good enough to make me forget about being wet and tired.

The next morning, I walked back into town and jumped on the cable car up to the top of the hill overlooking the city. Along the steep hill, there is a stop for the university students and then we headed to the top for some good views of the city below, along with a tiny museum dedicated to the historic cable car and its story. Next, I rode back down and made my way to Te Papa to see a bit of it, as it is a free museum, funded by a ton of money somewhere. It opened just a few years ago, and you can tell that no expense has been spared. Unfortunately, I didn't have much time, and the six stories of exhibits was too much for me, so I speed-walked through the first three floors, taking note of the blurred images, stories, stuffed fauna and more that passed in front of my eyes. Taking as much time as I could in the museum, I ran back to the hostel and got my car, heading off in search of my rental car agency. I had about 45 minutes to get it back in time, but I knew it would be an adventure finding the place, given the quality of the company and the horrible map they gave me, indicating two streets on the outskirts of town somewhere that no one seemed to have heard of. I made just a few wrong turns and found the tiny building behind a factory in an alley just outside of town, but right as I pulled in, the gas gauge dropped from 1/4 to a bit below, and I didn't want to risk turning it in without the same amount of gas that it had started with, as I knew this company would have some sort of huge penalty for that. So, I backed out of the alley and went in search of a gas station. A few minutes later, I found an automated station, yet it wouldn't take my bank card, my credit card or anything. I was told that maybe the other pump would work, so I tried that, and then I tried paying a guy $10 cash to put $10 of gas on his card for me, but he didn't want to do that. So, I talked to a passing trucker missing a few key teeth, and he gave me some convoluted directions to another station that certainly didn't work out once I started driving. About ten minutes later, I was getting back into town, but I did find a station, so I put in a few dollars worth of gas, plus the gas spent driving around, looking for gas, and then I headed back to the rental agency.

Again, there was only one guy working in the "office," so I had to wait a while as a few Israelis renting two cars in front of me took their time in inspecting the cars and working out how to pay for it. They did a thorough check of the car, the engine, the interior, which was quite time consuming, especially when they insisted that the worker replace a broken tail light and try to fix a broken back passenger window while we all waited. Maybe a bit of inspection on my part would have been better, but this was a bit excessive. I found a soccer ball in the corner of the deserted garage, though, so I wasted a bit of time playing with that. I finally turned in my car and waited for the "airport transfer," which not surprisingly turned out to be the same guy, driving me to the airport in the exact car that I had just returned. As he started the car, he asked if I liked manual transmissions, and it soon became clear the reason for his question. He stalled the car four times while trying to turn around in the alley, and once again as he tried to pull out in front of three lanes of oncoming traffic, so I was a bit worried that I might not make it to the airport. Shaking and stalling our way through the 20 minute drive, he told me stories about his family back in India and in the US, deciding that New Zealand was the place for him with much better prices and easier living, and I had to agree. At the airport, I had a few hours to kill, and luckily I found a great kiosk with free photo emails, so I spent quite a bit of time working on my random faces, sending emails around, pretending to be normal as other travellers passed by. Time passed quickly as I amused myself and hopefully a few of you, and I soon boarded my plane to Dunedin, to meet my friend on the South Island.

(Another idyllic scene along the country roads)

(The suburbs of Wellington at night)

(Overlooking the city and the cable car line...I probably should have waited for a cable car to be in the picture but too late now)


(The business district of the city, taken from Te Papa)

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