New Zealand - The South Island

The South Island.  Northerners vacation here and Southerners hardly leave.  With places like Abel Tasman, the Franz Josef Glacier, Milford Sound, Wanaka, Queenstown, and Lake Tekapo, who'd want to?  If you don't yet know to what I'm referring, read on.

My first experiences on the south island can be grouped into a single hat: unique transportation across beautiful landscapes.  I left Wellington the morning of the 23rd of November as a solo traveler yet again.  The "family", as we had come to call ourselves, had departed the capital city a few days earlier to spend some time in Abel Tasman.  In hindsight, my decision to stay in Wellington was a good one, because it was my favorite city to that point and it afforded the opportunity to dork out over LOTR.  However, after seeing their pictures and reading more about Abel Tasman, I now realize this is a must see location on my next return trip to Kiwiland.  In my opinion, it would be like going to the south island and not visiting Fiordland National Park, the home of Milford and Doubtful Sound.

Long live the pirate shot!

Even though I had not heard of Abel Tasman prior to coming to New Zealand, I had heard of (and seen through film) the Southern Alps, the mountain range which comprises the spine of the south.  I wanted to experience some of this fabulous range as best I could for the time I had, and I chose to do it by rail.  After ten days of Magic bus rides on the north, my ferry ride across Cook Strait and two following train trips were welcome changes.  When I first knew I'd be on a ferry again, visions of the Lautoka-Savusavu Fijian Ferry came to mind.  "At least this one will only be three hours instead of twelve," I thought.  As it turned out, I couldn't have been more pleasantly surprised.  This ship was eight floors of luxury: two dining areas, a sleep room with large recliners, two cinemas, and a children's playground.  Even though they are months away, I began to have optimistic thoughts of the ferry trips I'd be taking in Europe, because I'd been told they are comparable or better in quality. Nice.

In Picton, the port town on the south island, I had a nice surprise awaiting me on the train station platform.  "Spedish" Alex, as we'd come to call him since he's a Swede living in Spain, had left Abel Tasman to join me on the Tranzcoastal and Tranzalpine trips for the next two days.  The Tranzcoastal traveled into Christchurch via coastal towns like Kaikoura, a spot known for its seal-swimming and whale-watching experiences and little else.  This was a pretty quick (5 hour) journey, but allowed us to catch up, me to write, and one of us to drool in his sleep.  Who shall be our little secret, right, Alex? :)

The next day was the real rail trip I'd been waiting for, a half day journey over the Southern Alps via Arthur's Pass.  Unlike the prior day's trip, which was pleasant but not in a singularly unique manner, the views aboard this leg were enough to keep me on the viewing deck for its duration despite the grime and sometimes icy winds.  I snapped more photos than I care to mention, kept a smaller percentage of those, and posted only a fraction of those for you to see before falling into deep slumber.  Some can only take so many mountains, you know.

In Greymouth, our endpoint on the west coast, Alex and I were reunited with the family sans two members: Alex Z. and Mats.  However, they did pick up two new people, Nico from France, and Ilse from Holland.  I couldn't help but think we were all Sue's new pets as she seemed to acquire us like new articles of clothing.  Nonetheless, no one minded and we were all happy to be a larger group once again.

With the exception of Sue, this was the family that would travel together for the remainder of my time in the country.  Nico, Linda, and I all left within a day of each other, and Ilse was staying two weeks after that, which meant a lot of good group fun for the days to come.

We began by traveling down to the Franz Josef and Fox Glaciers, the only two glaciers surrounded by rainforest.  Odd thought, right?  We kayaked on a lake near Franz and hiked on the Fox.  Well, we sorta hiked.  We mainly stood around a lot.  In fact, this was the only activity on which I bothered to fill out a comment card because I didn't think it was worth its cost.  For one, our guide was not very interested in being a guide on this day.  He talked of how long he'd worked for this company and how much he was looking forward to his upcoming round-the-world snowboarding tour.  Secondly, he spent the majority of his time on the glacier hacking out steps with his pick so we would have good footing.  Granted the company probably must do this for insurance purposes, but every few meters on almost zero-grade ground?  Really?  F double minus in my book.  I couldn't have slid down some of these "hills" if I were naked and greased to the nines.

As a nice contrast to the Fox experience, our next stop was Wanaka, where we sadly had to depart ways with Sue.  However, she said she'd try hard to meet us all in Sweden in the summertime when I'm planning on being there.  Wanaka was one of my two favorite locations on the south island.  The other was Lake Tekapo, which was a very nice treat so close to the end of my journey.  Before arriving, Wanaka was described, accurately as it turned out, as a smaller, less-touristy Queenstown.  With its one-story buildings, and snow-capped peaks guarding the lake, I could have stayed a few more days with no other activities save existing.  Had I stayed and been wrong about the aforementioned claim, there were two places that I know I could have visited again: the Cinema Paradiso and Puzzling World.

The cinema was something I could imagine existing in San Francisco.  In fact, I think I'd like to be the one to bring something of its kind there...after I start my world chain of cheap, healthy, delicious Mexican food restaurants, of course.  Instead of small, uncomfortable stadium seats, the one-room theater was furnished with couches, recliners, bean bags, and even an old Volkswagen beetle for drive-in aficionados.  Half way through our flick, the double doors opened and people lead us to set tables where our hot, pre-ordered dinners were awaiting us.  There was just enough time to digest both food and movie before we were ushered back into the theater for the conclusion.

Puzzling World was not as unique as the Paradiso, however it was great fun for four hours and 8 bucks.  It consisted of a large outdoor maze, which Alex was uncannily good at, and several puzzle rooms.  Those who have been to the Mystery Spot in Santa Cruz, CA, will know exactly the types:  pool tables with balls rolling uphill, rooms where you stand at a seemingly impossible angle, and a room where you appear to grow in height walking in one direction and shrink in the other.

On the Magic Bus from Wanaka to Queenstown, the bus driver informed us that we'd be stopped at the Kawarau River Bungy Jump for all those wanting to do it.  Now, there are lots of jumps around the country, but only three run by A.J. Hackett, the man who started it all: the Kawarau (the original), the Ledge (over Queenstown proper), and the Nevis (the highest).  Alex had already decided he wanted the Big Kahuna.  I was undecided and becoming more inclined to not do one at all since I had heard it wasn't great for the spine and, perhaps, the knees.  In the end, two things convinced me to do the Kawarau: a list of ten things I wanted to do before dying that I had written in undergrad, and the idea of eternal nagging from a friend who had both done a jump here and seen my list.  Shortly after I had decided to do it, my friends on the bus asked if I was nervous.

"Hell, yeah!  How could you tell?"

"You've stopped talking," they replied.

It's a funny thing getting ready to do something like this.  At least for me.  The dialogue between mind and body went something like this:

(on the bus) Mind: "You are going to die if you do this."

(on the viewing deck watching other people) Mind: "Okay, you will be fine."

(on the jumping ledge all tied up ready to go) Body: "No F***ing way!"

Now, I knew from watching the other victims, er, participants, that the "helpers" count down from five, and if they reach "one", they switch roles to "convincers" and give you a little nudge off the ledge.  No way was I going to be pushed even a little.  When I heard "one", I did my best eagle impression, aimed for the bridge 500m in front of me, and let gravity do the rest.  Later, back on the deck, an observer had told me he watched several jumps before and after me and liked mine the most.

Queenstown itself was fantastic.  I ended up staying four nights in two different blocks, one prior to Milford Sound and one after.  Unlike other cities or towns which had 'good' and 'bad' days for going out on the town, Queenstown only had good days, so we went out the first night we were there.  Little did I know it would only be half good...up until about 2 am or so.  Dinner was fun, we were all dressed to kill, and everyone wanted to see what the night scene was like in this famed party-town.  After a few drinks at random bars, we head into one of the main dance places, the World Bar.  I've decided that the World Bar has all the qualities of a proper place of debauchery save one, its drinking glasses are too hard.  Much harder than teeth.  I found this out after lifting my pint glass for drink, as I've done hundreds of times before, but this time my mouth would not be unchanged.  I chipped the lower and rear part of my front incisor clean off.  Now I've been around long enough to have heard of and seen plenty of tricks to sober oneself up quickly, but I doubt any hold a candle to this.

Despite this unfortunate incident, the night was not without its positive moments.  I introduced Alex and Nico to the infamous pirate shot.  For those of you not in the know of highly brilliant way to drink a tequila shot, let me explain.  Tequila is normally shot after a lick of salt and prior to sucking on lime.  However, pirates do it differently.  They snort salt, shoot tequila, and then squeeze lime into one eye.  This is why they look like pirates.  They always cover one eye and are growling after drinking like this.  If you still aren't sure why, I invite you to try.  I'll even join you.

We left the mischief of Queenstown for three great days in Fiordland National Park, a huge mass of land consisting of the entire southwest corner of the south island.  This is the home of two famous fjords (misnamed "Sounds"), Milford Sound and Doubtful Sound, as well as some fairly famous New Zealand tramps, the Routeburn Track, the Kepler Track, and the Milford Track.  To do the Milford Track, six-month to one-year advance notice is required and it takes a mandatory 4 days.  So, we decided to do a hike from Te Anau, a town not to far from Milford, to Lake Manapouri, one of the many lakes filled after the last ice age.  This was enough to make me want to return to the country solely to spend time in this national park doing various hikes.

After the Te Anau hike, we made it into Milford Sound for our afternoon boat cruise.  Like most of our previous days, we had fantastically clear weather.  I learned from our driver, though, that it is equally important to see Milford when it is wet, because the hard rock doesn't absorb water well, which translates into hundreds of waterfalls lining the walls into the sea.  Nevertheless, our clear day was beautiful in its own right.  I will join the masses of travelers and guide books that insist on visiting this place when in New Zealand.

Most people see Milford Sound on a one day trip from Queenstown: five hours in a bus, two hours on a boat, and five more hours on a bus.  Blech!  None of us wanted to do that, so we stayed in Milford at the only hostel in this 140-person town.  If there's one thing a traveler can be sure of in New Zealand, it's this:  No matter how small the town, there is always a place to stay and a place to drink, and it may even be one in the same.  Staying in Milford was a great decision not only to break up the trip to and from Queenstown but because the scenery in the failing and early light was spectacular.  We had heard that cruises in the evening or early morning were best, and I knew why after sleeping there.

We came back to Queenstown and stayed a couple of days so I could get my tooth repaired and then left to Dunedin, the second largest city in the south.  In my amateur opinion, this city is best characterized by three things: Scottish heritage, a large student population, and Cadbury chocolate.  I'm sure most people reading this have seen Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.  Well, it's nothing short of that.  There are huge storage silos of dried chocolate.  Large pump pipe liquid chocolate to the various rooms for manufacture.  Conveyor belts run as quickly as can be humanly operated with thousands of bars flying by the hungry onlookers.  I'm not even a big chocolate fan, but I was compelled to buy several different bars from the candy shop at the end.

Dunedin, or Mosgiel rather, was also the home to another one of my neighbor's cousins and, luckily, my home for the evening.  Susan Carruthers' cousin Alison not only met me for lunch and took time out of her day to give me a guided tour of the city but also arranged for me to dine at her house that evening with her family.  Just as in Wellington, the food was delicious, the atmosphere was warm, and the company sincere.  We drank beer on the deck, had stimulating and often silly conversation, and even visited their horse, Sam.  Easily one of the more non-touristy, non-adventure highlights I've had.

Leaving Dunedin, there was only one more stop before reaching Christchurch, which would be my departure city.  Luckily for me, it turned out to be Lake Tekapo.  Any person having spent some time, even just in transit, in the Sierra Nevada Mountains in California will easily see the similarities between the two places.  The pine trees are tall and fragrant.  The lake is turquoise due to the glacier-ground rock flour.  And the town is small and friendly with outdoor-loving folk.

By this point, the fellowship had been reduced to three: me, Linda, and Ilse.  Alex left the family to catch his flight out of Christchurch and Nico traveled south to see Invercargill and Stewart Island.  Even though we missed our friends, we knew we'd see each other again in seven 'short' months.  Plus we had a gorgeous place begging to be explored, so it was easy to get over our loss.  Sorry, guys.

It was here in Tekapo that we all caught a shuttle to Aoraki, or better known as Mount Cook, the highest mountain in New Zealand and training ground for Sir Edmund Hillary, one of Mt. Everest's first conquerers.  In Mount Cook National Park, I did the third tramp of my trip, and, like the others, left only wanting more.  The weather was sunny, if not too hot, yet the peaks were still densely packed with winter's snow.  Even though we got nowhere near the snow, the sound of avalanches and the snowy face of 'Cloud-Piercer' still gave us the alpine experience we sought.

Christchurch saw our trio dissolve into a duo.  Ilse and Linda flew back to the north island while I remained to prepare for Oz.  Even though my mind, and therefore time, was split between the country I was in and the country to which I was traveling next, Australia, I still managed to fit in one last adventure activity: swimming with Hector's Dolphins in the French town of Akaroa.  And one of the best parts was I wasn't alone.

Esther, one of the divers I met in Fiji, was in Christchurch, and she decided to join me on this day trip, and I was glad for her company given that I had just lost my family a few days prior.  Like the Milford day trip which most people do, much of this day was spent in transit on a bus or on a boat.  However, the highlighted experience is far more unique and interactive, which makes a world of difference.  The Hector's Dolphin is only 1.2m long, but as quick and smart as its larger cousins.  Once we found a group, pod, pack, or whatever they are scientifically called, the swimmers quickly got in the water and were given three instructions: don't touch the dolphins, don't swim around too much, and sing your lungs out.  Dolphins, by nature, are curious creatures, so the more noise that is made means the more dolphin encounters one will have.  Some of people sang Elton John tunes, others Christmas caroles.  Me, I turned my snorkel upside down and did my best Dory humpback whale impersonation.  We entertained the boat guides and each other but all for good reason.  We were literally swimming with dolphins in no time.  Thanks to waterproof bag, I took several pictures underwater of these beautiful creatures but even the wide angle lens on my camera couldn't zoom out enough to get them in full glory.  That is how close I was to them time and time again.

It will always be easy to look back at a place and come up with things one did not do or see.  It is akin to wanting something newer or fancier.  Although I have this list in my head, I have an even longer one of experiences and people I could not have planned nor could duplicate again.  One of friends, families, and unique landscapes and cultures.  I hope Australia can compete.  I'm told it can.