Good-bye to Middle Earth

Kiwi Traffic jam: It's TOTAL gridlock out here!

What do you do after Milford Sound?

Pretty much anything you do after that has to be an anticlimax.  However, we soldiered on in the knowledge of inevitable disappointment.  And disappointment we found – we were disappointed in our surety of disappointment.  Does that sound convoluted?  All this touring around at the bottom of the world where the blood is constantly rushing to your head has probably done some damage to my already somewhat shaky intellect.

We hopped off the bus at Te Anau just outside of Fjordland National Park to spend the night before travelling to Dunedin.  We just had a brief stopover and decided that, rather than make our own breaky (which has been our habit up to now), we would have one of the famous venison pies made at the local pie shop.  We had been told that the meat pies in New Zealand were wonderful – but the person that told us that is a Kiwi and probably just homesick for comfort food. 

So, we decided to “bit the bullet”.  Since it was a venison pie a bullet was a possibility but we were hoping the term was metaphorical.

It was an interesting experience.  The meat pies were very large, very warm and very fresh.  I was expecting there to be something other than just venison in the pie.  You know – some peas or carrots or whatever.  In the pie were just large chunks of meat and a bit of gravy.  My stomach found that to be a somewhat unexpected breakfast and was not entirely sure how to deal with it.  After a bit though it settled in and decided it was a good thing.  Since then we have been periodically eating the local meat pies and spending some time after periodically checking our heart rates awaiting the inevitable myocardial infarction.  So far – so good.   I don’t want a cholesterol test done for a while - I know I will fail. 

Dunedin is the oldest city in New Zealand and is the furthest south that we went.  We noticed a definite difference in climate between the north end of south island and Dunedin.  It felt more like September back home than mid-summer – cooler and a bit crisp.  No one was wearing jackets but you could see them itching to put them on.  Since they are made from wool the itching bit is included at no extra charge.

Dunedin is famous for its architecture.  The buildings were certainly ornate but not enough to make one gasp in awe.  What we found interesting was the boat tour that took you out to see the albatross.  Dunedin has the only known albatross-nesting site that is on the mainland and is easily accessible.  Seeing the albatross gliding in against the wind with their three-meter wingspan was worth the trip.

Albatross!

From Dunedin to Christchurch.  It was a long and tedious bus ride.  The east side of the south island is fairly flat and more given over to agriculture than the west side.  That meant more sheep and more cattle.  Yawn.   The dairy industry in New Zealand is now the largest industry there – surpassing the sheep raising.  I guess the high tech fabrics have replaced wool as the textile of choice these days.  I did buy some Merino wool socks, though.  When you put them on it almost feels as if they have been pre-warmed.  But I know they are not THAT fresh.

Christchurch looked pretty good.

That is like saying to someone who is recovering from a horrible car accident that they look pretty good.  The earthquake did a lot of damage to property and people’s sense of security.  About fifty thousand people decided to move out of the city.  In spite of the inevitable bureaucratic nonsense that happens when government and insurance hacks try to figure out how to get out of paying the city is doing pretty well at putting itself back together.  Certainly the trade’s people are doing well by it.

Some of the damage caused by the earthquake in Christchurch

We took an “Alpine Safari” while we were in Christchurch.  That entailed heading into the mountains in a four-wheel drive, a jet-boat ride up the river and then a train ride back to Christchurch in the world-famous Transalpine Express. 

Thank goodness for Telen and her magic.  The four-wheel drive bit went up into the mountains and along barely discernible tracks on the edges of precipices.  Strangely I handled it well – although the fact that we were up in the clouds and the drop-offs simply dropped into the fog may have helped.  Going along a ridge that was about 10 cm wider than the truck and dropped off on both sides into the abyss did make me feel somewhat uncomfortable, though. 

The 4-wheel drive vehicle we climbed the mountains in

I know, I know – I said riding in a jet boat was puerile, juvenile, and senseless – but did I happen to mention that it is fun?  Part of the Safari included a jet-boat ride up the river.  The jet-boat was invented in New Zealand to navigate the very shallow rivers they have.  They only draw about 6 cm of water and they have no keel.  What this means is that they can zoom along on water that only comes up to your ankles.  I swear we were going to rip the bottom out of the boat a number of times and I know I felt rocks touching the bottom.  I mentioned this to the pilot but he just looked at me with psychotic eyes and did the maniac laugh.  I didn’t think I was going to get any satisfaction from him.

riding the jet boat

After the jet boat we ended up on the Transalpine Express train back to Christchurch.  This was supposed to be a spectacular train ride through the mountains.  It was more serene than breath taking.  It was enjoyable (especially because we had warm meat-pies) but not something to write home about – so I will say no more.

Telen and one of the deadly meat pies

We flew back to Auckland and from there we took the bus to the Bay of Islands.  The town of Puhia is where the Treaty of Waitangi was signed between the English and the Maori allowing the English to cheat the Maori out of their land.  The settlement across the bay, now known as Russell, was the first settlement in New Zealand and earned the name of “Hell Hole of the Pacific”.  It had been a hangout for whalers, seal hunters, escaped prisoners, smugglers, pirates and prostitutes.  Now it is just a slightly boring little town with a few quaint restaurants and souvenir shops.  I was quite disappointed when we went there and saw hardly any drunken brawls or shootings.  I guess I will have wait until I get to America for that – for the shootings anyway…

We took a bus up to Cape Rienga – the most northerly point in New Zealand.  The interesting thing about the bus ride is that it went along 90 Mile beach (which is actually 64 miles long).   I don’t mean on a road beside 90 Mile beach I mean ON 90 Mile beach.  Such a bizarre experience to ride along at 90 km/hour on a sand beach with the water lapping at the wheels of the bus and seagulls taking off from the beach in front of us to get out of the way. The driver stopped for us to take some pictures.     

That would probably best be described as “unfortunate”.

We came to halt and the bus sank in the sand up to the axles.  When I say bus I am not referring to an over sized van – this was a full sized Greyhound type bus full of people.  Needless to say we were not going to be able to push this thing out by brute force.  Brute force is something I am good at but, in spite of my Neanderthal tendencies, there was no way I was going to move that thing.  The tide was coming in.

Our attempts to pull the bus out of the sand

Every guy on the bus had some advice for the driver.  I am sure he took it all into account but chose not to go with it and we waited until two more busses showed up.  They attached the two busses to the front of our bus and tried to pull it out.  Interestingly enough the two new busses had their rear wheels in the ocean as they attempted to get our bus out.  After a number of tries during which one of the cables did a spectacular break they managed to get our bus onto relatively firm sand.

 Because the tide was now very close to the busses we high-tailed it along until we came to a river.  The busses all turned and we drove up the river.

 As weird as that sounds it actually happened.   To make matters stranger we stopped at the bottom of some huge sand dunes and the driver got out and started handing wake boards to everyone.  We all went sand boarding.  You have seen nothing weirder than some old granny in a pink cardigan and flowered dress riding down the sand dunes on a wake board and shrieking with delight.  I thought I had inadvertently wandered into the twilight zone.

Me Sandboarding

We made it to Cape Rienga albeit somewhat late.  We could see where the Tasman Sea and the Pacific Ocean met.  It was a beautiful spot with unbelievably blue ocean and sky.  Again, you cannot explain it with words or show it with photos.  You gotta go there.

Telen at Cape Rienga. You can see the white-caps where the Tasman Sea meets the Pacific Ocean

The next day we took a cruise into the Bay of Island.  The point of the cruise was to take us through the “Hole in the Wall” which is sea cave on one of the islands.  We were underwhelmed by the whole experience.  However, to make up for it, some dolphins came for a visit followed shortly by about six little Blue Penguins. 

The little Blue Penguins

Then Telen and I had a guided walk on one of the islands given by a Maori man named Rua.  We did not learn so much about the island as about the Maori.  It was fascinating!

Telen and Rua

The trip to Cape Reinga and the cruise on the Bay of Islands was a great way to finish our stay in New Zealand.  I would prefer to call New Zealand by its Maori name Aotearoa – which means, “Land of the Long White Cloud”.  Aotearoa is a wonderful place with spectacular scenery and down-to-earth, unpretentious people who would take you into their own homes given the opportunity.  It is a place that has its problems – particularly between the Europeans and Maori – but nothing that is not resolvable.  We met many wonderful people and ate too many meat pies.  I don’t think I have ever been to a place where I felt more welcome.  Although New Zealand is not Tolkien’s Middle Earth – there are no Elves, Wizards, or Goblins, there is a kind of magic here.

Check this out:

Telen writes:

I am sad to have reached the end of our one-month tour of New Zealand.  The pace of life here seems more laid back and the people in general are very hospitable.  We have taken numerous coaches and shuttles during our tour.  Every single driver has been friendly and welcoming.  Each of the places we stayed at always offered us some complimentary delicious New Zealand milk to have with our tea. 

Such a welcoming gesture! Haere Mai!

The Maori people have achieved a much stronger economic progress than the aboriginals in Canada.  It was an inspiring experience to have a Maori captain and crew on our cruise in the Bay of Islands.

New Zealand is definitely a place worth returning to for more exploration.  The next trip would be to try some of the hiking trails scattered throughout the country. 

   

Stress inflation

A waterfall in Milford Sound

Remember that I said that life is less stressful in New Zealand?

Well, it is – but moderation in all things – even moderation.  I think Kiwis have reduced the stress too much in their lives.  In order to compensate for the lack of stress they jump off of things.  Here in Queenstown there is no shortage of places to jump off of extreme heights.  Bungee jumping was invented here.  However, you can also skydive, parasail, kite-surf, base-jump, canyon swing, and anything else that you can think of to pump out that adrenaline.  In our evolution as tree-dwelling primates we developed a very sensible fear of falling.  It was important for us to believe that if we fell out of our tree we would become part of the food chain either as prey or as carrion.

So the Kiwis have invented ways to allow us to laugh in the face of death and sneer at good judgment.  They get us to leap off of great heights to our certain death – then catch us at the last minute.  When we do this, and survive, we feel great.  Kind of like when we take our hands out of the fire – it feels so good when it stops.  The Kiwis are smart and make people pay for this experience.  Imagine that – paying huge amounts of money to give yourself a near-death experience and a trip to the laundromat.  I have read that the greatest fear people have is public speaking. Why not just have a stage and an audience and get people to pay to get up and make a speech?

No, this is NOT me.  I wonder how much he paid to do this.

Bungee jumping was invented in Queenstown.  We actually saw the site where it was first done.  They have since increased the options available to someone with an excess of bravery, cash and a shortage of intelligence.  It all comes down to how long you want to be in free-fall.  The higher the platform the longer you fall before the bungee cord starts to slow you down. It costs about $200.00 for a jump that leaves you in free-fall for about 2 seconds. You are plummeting at $100.00 per second. This fact is even more chilling than dropping to what your brain believes is a certain and painful death; dropping to a certain and painful bankruptcy.  To make it even more exciting you can do the jump while wearing a garbage can over your head or by leaning back in a chair until you fall off the platform.  That sounds too much like real life to me.

At my age there is a good reason for me to not bungee jump other than poverty and wisdom.  I reckon that when I get to the end of my rope all my flesh would slough off like an over-cooked chicken leg and just my bones would be left hanging and clicking in the breeze while an oily glob drifted down the river below. 

This is not an experience I am willing to pay for.

Queenstown advertises itself as the adrenalin capital of the world.  You can roar up narrow canyons on a jet boat barely missing the canyon walls if you wish.  When the jet boats get back to the jetty they come in at ludicrous speed and suddenly turn.  Since they have no keel they simply start spinning and skipping across the surface of the water.  A lot of people scream at this point.  I know I did - and I wasn’t even in the boat.  They can attach you to a parachute and drag you behind a boat such that you are essentially hanging in the air and trusting your survival to 20 square meters of Asian-made artificial fabric and a half-crazed immature Kiwi drunk on adrenalin.  You can take a gondola up to the top of the nearest mountain and they will attach you to half a parachute and let you leap off.  You can take a lift up a hill where they will place you inside an inflated rubber ball and roll you back down.  An exercise in futility, if you ask me.  All of these things and more are available to you here in Queenstown if you have the cash and not a lick of common sense.  When you are done here you will have no cash and, hopefully, somewhat more common sense.

Us?  We went to Milford Sound.

Does this look like something from Lord of the Rings?

Milford Sound is in Fjordland National Park on the west coast of New Zealand.  It is mis-named in a few ways.  It is, in fact a fjord.  A “sound” is an inlet carved out by a river and then backfilled with ocean as the sea rises.  A “fjord” is an inlet carved out by a glacier and backfilled with ocean as the ice melts and the sea levels rise.  One is created by gradual erosion by the river and the other is created by brute force as the ice smashes its way through the rock.  Sort of like poetry vs. prose or Canada vs. the US.  Negotiation vs. War…   that sort of thing.

The other way it is miss-named is calling it Milford.  That is like renaming Gandalf the Wizard to Miles the Magician.  New Zealand does tend to do that – they have some of the most lackluster names for their cities:  Hamilton, Wellington, Nelson.

Along the way to Milford Sound we stopped at some of the areas where the Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit were filmed.  There is no evidence of there ever being a film crew there but the bus driver was still muttering under his breath about all the delays they caused.  It makes me want to watch the movies again to see if I can identify some of the sites.  In Queenstown our accommodation was almost at the base of the Mountains of Mordor. Telen thought she heard a gravelly voice muttering about something “precious” during the night.  It gave her a bit of fright but I explained to her that I was just trying to murmur sweet endearments to her.  Ok, so I have a cold… but that was no excuse for trying to stab me with an enchanted Swiss Army Knife. Actually the mountain range is called the “Remarkables” but it doubled as Mordor for the movie.  

The Mountains of Mordor aka "the Remarkables"

 Milford Sound is nothing short of spectacular.

A fjord, generally, is a body of water (NOT a poorly make Norwegian automobile!) that has mountains that go almost straight up on either side.  Milford does that.  In spades!  Although the mountains are nowhere near as high as the mountains in BC they are breathtaking.  They are essentially enormous cliffs that drop straight down into the gorge of Milford Sound.  Since it rains 2 days out of 3 on this particular part of the coast (they get 3 meters of rain a year) there are myriad waterfalls tumbling down those cliffs.  The trees of this area have figured out how to hang on to those cliffs so they are covered in vegetation.  One can go on and on trying to explain how awe-inspiring Milford Sound is without being able to get it across.  Photos cannot do it justice.  When I look at the photos I took of Milford Sound I am blown away by how they have been completely unable to capture it.  There is no way to convey the grandeur of Milford Sound using words or pictures. 

You just gotta go there!

A waterfall into Milford Sound.  Notice the ship at the base of the cliffs?

We cruised out to the Tasman Sea through Milford Sound.  I got a terrible crick in my neck from looking up at the mountains.  Some of them, literally, leaned out over the water.  Since this area has a penchant for landslides this made me distinctly nervous.  I was reassured that the mountains were solid granite and if they fell on me I would not feel a thing.

The weather coming into Milford Sound from the Tasman Sea

I was hoping to see wildlife in Milford Sound.  The brochures talked about seals, dolphins and weird exotic birds.  We saw some gulls and a few seals. We can see those at home any day of the week.  Apparently the Sound is so deep that there is nothing to eat there so the birds and dolphins only come in for a visit once in a while and apparently they were not feeling sociable that day.  How mercenary can you get?  They won’t come to visit unless it’s for dinner. 

Makes you wonder how genuine their friendship is…

It was a bit breezy that day...

North West of the South Island of Middle Earth

The North West Coast of The South Island near Punakaiki.

So far New Zealand is like a Cole’s Notes Condensed version of British Columbia.

There are a few differences.  There are no bears or other large mammals other than those kept on farms for human consumption.  The mountains are smaller but they tend to explode.  They have dense rainforest made up of steroid abusing ferns and other weird looking plants rather than massive evergreens with no personal space issues.  Everything is close together.

These are ferns, not Palm trees.  

Like BC we see wineries, mountains, oceans, lakes, glaciers and beautiful scenery.  The advantage to New Zealand is that your window of opportunity to see such things is much larger.  The general climate here is much like that of Victoria – cool summers, warm winters and little snow.  You don’t have to pack a month’s supply of food and water and hire porters and sherpas to get from one area of interest to another.

Having said that the pace of life here is sane.  You Torontonians, Calgarians and your ilk are probably rolling your eyes at my statement that BC life is too fast paced.  It is too fast paced.  The pace of life in BC is too stressful for actual sanity.  It is ridiculously fast paced in Toronto and no one ever said anyone from Toronto was sane.  Calgarians, well, what can I say…

Come to New Zealand to see how life should be lived.

We went kayaking in Abel Tasman Park.  Abel Tasman Park is New Zealand’s smallest national park and it is about one hour’s drive out of Nelson.  One hour’s drive in New Zealand does not mean 100 km.  New Zealand does not spend a lot of money on roads.  The roads are all two lane – one lane going in each direction – and they do not blast their way through obstacles.  They go around them.  That means there are no straight parts on any roads in New Zealand.  Even if they are going across dead flat areas they wind around avoiding such obstacles as rocks, trees, grass or sheep. Many of the bridges are one lane so only one vehicle can go over at a time.  Woss yer ‘urry, mite?

We spent the day kayaking in the park.  The weather was great for it – it was warm with clear blue skies and very little wind.  We saw seals, little blue penguins, and a giant stingray.  We also saw that someone’s breast implants had fallen out.  We were told that it was only a jellyfish and that we could touch it if we wanted.  We had barbequed lamb on the beach and got too much sun.  Life is SOOO hard here in New Zealand.

Life is SOOOO hard in New Zealand

From Nelson we travelled to Punakaiki. Punakaiki is right on the west coast of the south island facing the restless Tasman Sea. It is famous for it’s pancake rocks and blowholes.  Mostly Punakaiki is famous as a stopover point between Nelson and the Franz Josef glacier. The pancake rocks are a geological formation – not a particularly crunchy breakfast food. They are interesting, but not spectacular and the blowholes are similar to those we have on the west coast of the island.  

Telen making the blowholes look good

The place we stayed at did not have a kitchenette and there was very little choice as far as eating goes.   So we ate at the restaurant in the hotel. 

That was unfortunate.

 Because I felt like indulging and I love fish and chips I had…. fish and chips.  $36.00 worth of fish and chips.  That sounds like a lot but it wasn’t – 2 pieces of fish and a small bowl of chips.   It did include some steamed veggies, tartar sauce and staphylococcus.

The next morning I was in agony.  I felt as if Alien was about to burst out of my gut and rampage through the bus.  Six hours in pouring rain on a bus rocking back and forth on the Kiwi highways with Alien playing fast and loose in my gut with a vise-grip and a monkey wrench.  By the time we got to Franz Josef I was a limp rag.  Telen said I was grouchy.  

Ya think?

Then the vomiting started.  I was fortunate that that particular phase happened when I was at the hotel where it was a bit less embarrassing to do projectile emesis.  Nothing says “cool” like being on all fours on the side of the road bringing up your stomach contents while 30 people on a bus adjudicate your style.  It was a rough day.  Strangely the next day I felt fine – just a little weak and very hungry since I had not eaten the previous day at all.  Food poisoning is something I expected in Southeast Asia but it surprised me in New Zealand.

Franz Josef is all about the glacier.  You can skydive over the glacier, you can helicopter to the glacier, you can fly over the glacier, you can have guided tours to the glacier or just about anything else you can think of to do with glaciers.   If you have the cash…  We hiked up to glacier.  For free. 

Apparently that is frowned upon here.

Franz Josef Glacier

Telen and the waterfall.  

It was a very nice hike.  In New Zealand you don’t hike on trails – you tramp on tracks.  Saw wye trumped onna truk up tudda glysha, mite.  It was a very nice tramp through rain forest with all kinds of interesting and odd looking plants. It was both strange and beautiful.  You get the feeling that you have wandered into Jurassic Park and T-Rex is about to leap out at you and take a bite.  Luckily the only creatures that do take a bite are sand flies.  T-Rex has better taste than to eat Canadians.  Frozen food is not as good for you as the fresh stuff and I look like I would be too high in cholesterol.  On the other hand WE had a picnic up there - but did not eat the local wildlife.

Picnic by the glacier

However, I did take a drink out of the stream coming from the glacier.  It is kind of fun to think I was drinking water that fell as snow before my Neanderthal ancestors wandered into Europe.  That water was as clear as any water I have ever seen, it was cold and it was delicious.  Clean taste, delicate aroma with a slight mammothy aftertaste.

Taking a drink of glacier water NOT kissing the ground

The Franz Josef glacier was interesting but not as spectacular as the Columbia Ice Fields.  However the Columbia Ice Fields has boring plants and giant mosquitos as compared to fascinating plants and sand flies with delusions of grandeur.

The accommodation we had in Franz Josef was at a place called the “Rainforest Retreat”.  I had pictured a cabin tucked somewhere in a deep green rainforest at the base of some huge trees with moss-covered rocks around and the sound of a stream running somewhere in the distance.    The “cabin” was actually a motel room right on the edge of town near the rainforest and the moss-covered rock was the gravel in the parking lot. We arrived at about the same time as two tour busses from Trafalgar Tours and Flying Kiwi’s. 

So much for tranquil forest retreat!

The hormones flowing from those busses could have been bottled and sold on the net.  No one on either of those busses could have been older than twenty-five and all of them were very thirsty.  No sooner had their wranglers got them checked in than they stampeded for the Monsoon Bar that was in the complex.  Normally that kind of behavior is not a problem for us.  The noise level was.  All the boys were yelling various versions of “Pay attention to ME!” and all the girls were being coy at the top of their lungs.  At 3 am they were still doing the mating dance. 

It had the makings of a BBC nature documentary.  There was a rainforest, there was wildlife, there was mating behavior, and a viscous predator looking to kill something.