South Island: Part Two

On the way to Queenstown we made a detour through quaint Arrowtown, an old gold mining town that has been "preserved" to showcase its former glory. In other words, its all twee chintz, gift and tea shops. Unsurprisingly Candice loved it, Ed hated it, so after a quick coffee we moved swiftly on.

Queenstown is a crazy place, full of adrenalin-addicted Brits and Americans who live and work here in pursuit of the perfect thrill. It's great fun, but somewhat soulless, despite the fact it is situated in a valley next to a huge lake and circled by the remarkable mountain range called, um, The Remarkables. Our first taste of QT madness was a fast-paced trip down the Shotover canyon in a little rubber dinghy - whitewater rafting! Unfortunately, the converse reaction to all the sunny weather we'd been experiencing meant a considerably lower water level, so the rapids weren't quite at their death defying rapidity. You wouldn't have thought this though if the eye-wateringly expensive photo of ourselves we were shown afterwards was anything to go by - Candice's mouth is wide open in what she claims is shrieking hilarity, but is probably more a fear for her life.

The drive from Te Anau towards Milford Sound is quite indescribable... but I'll try.

Adventure sport firmly ticked (and the idea of a bungee and skydive swiftly dismissed), the next most exciting thing we did in Queenstown was sleep rough! We parked, next to a park, in the middle of town! How naughty. We had quite a few beers in town that night which helped us get over the embarrassment of having to crawl out the next morning next to people getting in their cars to go to work. Smelly and unshowered, we luged, we Ferg-burgered, and then we burgered off again, due south to Fiordland.

The drive from Te Anau towards Milford Sound is quite indescribable... but I'll try. Golden fields slowly give way to mountains looming theatrically either side of you. The cloudless sky shrinks as the mountains dwarf you. It's a shame so many tourist buses take the same road because aside from them, you really do feel like you're in another world. One inhabited by short people searching for a ring, perhaps?

We camped in another beautiful DOC site, next door to some friendly Sydneysiders who regaled us with tales of camping while skiing. Candice was particularly impressed with this information considering she was virtually dying here at night from the drop in temperature down south. Sunshine, yes, warmth, nuh-uh. It's darn cold in the south of the South Island. And this was mid-summer!

At dawn, we made our way to Milford Sound for our early cruise along the water. We were chuffed with the boat we'd carefully selected. It was about a fifth of the size of the other cruises, which meant we were the first out on the water, got to go further, and had way less people on board. I hate to be all British about this, but we could not get over how lucky we were with the weather. Literally not one cloud in the sky as we cruised along in our little tin boat. Our driver even let us get splashed under a waterfall to cool off.

Back at Te Anau, we hired a fishing rod, packed a bag and left our beloved Stan for a night, tramping to a little hut on the Kepler track. The only thing biting that night were the mozzies, but it was still a fun little excursion. On our way back to the van, we came across a very nice Kiwi couple called Rachel and Tim who were desperately trying to catch a fish with their own rod, hired from the same man in the same shop who had given them the same tips. We spent a few leisurely hours catching nothing with them along the Waiau river until Ed suddenly cried out, "I've got something." Sure 'nuff, he'd hooked a beautiful rainbow trout. Tim showed us how to gut it, and that afternoon we cooked and ate it overlooking the seaplanes landing on Lake Te Anau.

We'd been going at quite a pace and suddenly had a few days to spare before we were due in Christchurch, so we decided to head south to Invercargil. We had a lovely night in a campsite just outside town, relishing the first hot shower in five days (gross I know!) Candice even straightened her hair just for the hell of it. The following morning we wound our way up to Dunedin, via the picturesque coastline known as the Catlins, spying tiny Hector's dolphins, yellow-eyed penguins and sea lions along the way.

It was the eve before fresher's week in Dunedin when we got there meaning all the campsites were full of parents dropping their kids off at uni, so we had another night sleeping next to a park in a city. But this time, we were slightly less drunken, enjoying a decadent meal of prawns before heading off to our freeloading car park - priorities eh? Ed bought a Speights t-shirt from the brewery and then we drove through torrential rain - our luck finally up - the dull road up to Christchurch.

Our last meal consisted of tasty Havelock muscles cooked in Hawkes Bay wine and cream in our very cruddy campsite near the airport. Christchurch the next day was particularly uninspiring. But perhaps that's unfair, but it does look a bit like Guildford. The weather was English, as was the architecture (even the river is called Avon!), and we were feeling blue about our holiday drawing to a close. Not even spotting Iron Maiden's plane landing at the airport could cheer us up.

But the fact that our campervan company didn't notice the crack in our van did! What a result. After a long delay in Auckland we made it back to Sydney to dream of mountains and sheep and waterfalls and wine. We can't wait to go back. Yes, New Zealand is familiar - it's similar to South Africa and England, and parts of Europe in many ways - but it's clean and small and empty. We loved it. Who knows, in 20 years time we may be active members of the grey-haired brigade happily forking out to park our massive mobile homes in powered sites and have cream teas in Napier.

Until then, we've got the rest of the world to see. Starting with Tassie, and Ed's parents trip to Oz...