Christchurch had been pretty, despite the damage; the transalpine journey had been impressive, without quite overwhelming the senses; and the glaciers were interesting, beautiful and fun, and something I had not seen before, but they were not necessarily something I would return to to see again. So, as far as a taster went, the start of my visit to New Zealand had only really reaffirmed my initial views. The south of the south island, on the other hand, was spectacular; with views that were near perfection - fully justifying their reputation - and, as far as a taster goes, were more than ample to whet the appetite for more.
Franz Josef to Queenstown
What a journey. I can't remember the exact cost of the ticket, something like $50NZD, but it was just a scheduled public bus ride for a trip I needed to make. As a scenic drive though, they could have charged double and it would still have been a bargain. I know this is a bit effusive, but it really is difficult to describe just how beautiful this part of the country is (I'll have a go though!).
There are perhaps three distinct sections to the trip, each of them with glorious views. They start with undulating foothills covered with thick, dense forests, their trees displaying a canopy that includes every imaginable shade of green. The forests look like what I imagine England must have looked like in the middle ages before industrialisation and population growth meant that the forests were all cleared. Through the gaps in the hills, there are occasional glimpses of the ocean lapping against the pristine white sands as the journey continued down the strip of land between the sea and the mountains.
Eventually, we moved away from hills along the coast and headed east into the mountain range. From horizon to horizon, north south east and west, snow capped peaks of the highest mountains pierce the skyline. Meanwhile, smaller mountains tower high above the meandering roads, forests covering the lower slopes and, every now and then, you would see a waterfall crashing through the rainforest as we wind through the valleys. Even the clouds that provide the backdrop were of the pretty cotton wool variety.
The impossibly beautiful landscapes continue as the valleys start to widen out and the mountains slide into the background, the foreground being replaced with clear blue lakes at the foot of these soaring hills (in particular, the twin lakes of Wanaka and Hawea are stunning). Before the final stretch over the mountains into Queenstown, we stopped briefly at Wanaka (Queenstown's smaller, and calmer, brother) and I would love to have had longer there, as the beach bathed in glorious sunshine looked wonderful and I imagine every room comes with a stunning view.
In an earlier post, I described the drive through northern Lao as the most beautiful I had seen. This drive was different: we were mainly on the valley floors looking up at the mountains rather than driving over the mountains looking down, but I think the NZ drive edges it for spectacular views. It was like watching a tennis match as you turn your head from side to side, trying to take it all in.
It all sounds so idyllic, but there is something missing, and it took me quite a while to put my finger on it: there are no people! As an example of dramatic, unspoilt wilderness, I think the landscapes we passed through will be hard to beat wherever my journey takes me, but seeing the way other people live, their different cultures and customs, the different looks and styles are all as interesting to me as the geography of the places I've seen. The south island is roughly the same area as England, but has a population that is just 2% as large. Take the travellers away and this place would be practically deserted. On the public bus I took for this ride, there were about 14 people on the bus and 12 of them were travellers like me. The locals that I did meet were all very friendly, but there are just so few of them.
Stewart Island
Queenstown itself has its own beautiful scenery, located on the shores of Lake Wakatipu in the shadow of the Remarkables (so named because they are one of only two ranges in the world which lie on an exact north to south bearing) and other mountains. But that is not the main reason people come; it is usually for the adrenaline rush and partying that the adventure groups and multitude of bars provide. However, the day after I arrived, I joined a brief three-day tour for the very southernmost parts of the south island (and beyond), so my first stop in Queenstown just had the one night out (and quite a quiet one at that).
Shortly after setting off from Queenstown, we left the southern alps behind and crossed into farm country; which meant sheep. Lots of sheep. No, more than that. There were deer and cattle too, but mainly there were sheep, and a flat patchwork of fields that stretched as far as the eye could see. After a few hours driving through this region, we reached Invercargill and then Bluff, both of which are rather functional looking towns, before boarding the ferry to Stewart Island.
The notorious ferry crossing across the Foveaux Strait turned out to be nothing of the sort, as the sea was like a mill pond on both journeys, even if a bit foggy on the return leg. When we arrived at Oban, the main "town" on the island, Lisa, Rita and I hired a car for the afternoon and we had soon covered pretty much every inch of the island's 20km of roads. It was Rita's first time driving a right-hand-drive car, and she usually tried to open the window whenever she wanted to change gear, but her latin nature didn't let that stop her as we hurtled around the winding roads! Even with just an afternoon to explore, we had plenty of time and we stopped at several places to hike through the national park or walk along the beaches that fringe the island.
With a population of just 400 on the entire island, it feels like the whole place is a nature reserve. There is a definite sense that you are in a place which has been left untouched by mankind. Unfortunately, we didn't get to see any of the yellow-eyed penguins (or kiwis) but there were lots of other birds around providing a soundtrack to our walks.
As far as we could tell, there was just one pub in town, which was not the most exciting of places, so after a fish and chips supper (at 47 degrees south of the equator), I spent the evening chilling over wine and cards with the other people from the tour at the hostel.
Milford Sound
The following day, back on the south island, we headed across to Milford Sound - the famous fjord that cuts into the south west coast of the island. I don't think I have ever been anywhere as remote as this: the road from Te Anau is a 120km cul-de-sac, carving a way through Fiordland and finishing at the shores of Milford Sound. From there, we boarded the boat to sail out to the mouth of the fjord, with sheer cliffs steepling high above - some over a mile high and pretty much vertical. I'm running out of words to describe the wonderful scenery in this region, but again the views leave you staring around just trying to capture the feeling of awe at the beauty, and power, of nature. The narrow channels make an ideal wind tunnel in the afternoons, after the summer sun has heated the water and created a convection cycle, so we sailed out to the Tasman Sea into strong winds past the towering cliff faces and waterfalls tumbling from the tops into the fjord below, before retracing our route with the wind at our back past a colony of seals.
We spent the night at Gunn's camp; a collection of wooden sheds in the middle of nowhere, which were the base camp for those building the road from Te Anau to Milford Sound. We were really lucky with the weather; for a place which gets rain 300 days of the year to have two consecutive days of glorious sunshine was a rare treat. The high pressure also meant that the sky was clear and, as there was no electricity at night, and no city lights for miles and miles, the heavens were full of stars. We passed the evening drinking beer that had been chilled in the stream that runs alongside the camp, singing (when we could remember the lyrics) and eating marshmallows or crumpets around the campfire until the early hours. The only drawback to being in the wild open country was the sandflies - they were countless and relentless, and had seemingly developed a taste for insect repellent (although thankfully they went away after dark).
Queenstown
The final day of this mini tour, which happened to be Christmas Eve, took us back to Queenstown, stopping off at various lookout points for photos (I think you are probably getting the idea that the views around here are worth a snap or two!) and a couple of hours to wander around Te Anau.
In Queenstown, we went for one of the legendary Fergburgers (which, incidentally, fully deserve their reputation), before heading out to celebrate Christmas Eve. Queenstown has got to be one of the best places in the world for a night out, so clubbing with the friends made on the trip around the south provided a fantastic way to welcome in Christmas. Back at the hostel, as Germans give gifts on Christmas Eve rather than Christmas Day, Rita arranged a treasure hunt for Lisa, setting clues which led her to find the elusive kiwi (her Christmas present). All very sweet!
My plan for an adrenaline fuelled Christmas Day was scuppered by the fact that Queenstown basically shuts down for the day. Instead, with a few cold beers and some music, we spent the day relaxing on the beach - not a bad substitute! Spending Christmas in a strange land with a bunch of strangers was, erm, strange, but it was a good day and it was nice to talk to my family when Christmas eventually arrived in Europe.
Everything opened again on Boxing Day, so it was time for the adrenaline rush and to take the plunge, literally. After taking the cable car to the top of the rise over the city, bungy-jumping was first on my list - my two preferred choices (the original Kawarau bridge bungy over the river and the 150m Nevis bungy) were too far away for me to get to and get back to the airport for my flight, but there is a 47m bungy high above the city. There were a few nerves as I stood at the top before jumping off the ledge, but once you start your run up they disappear - and the feeling as you start to fall is nothing like the flash of terror you get skydiving. The initial plummet is over so quickly that you don't really have time to register that you are hurtling toward the ground! After the bungy, it was time to return to the city and I decided the best way would be to jump off the mountain again, this time paragliding. The conditions were absolutely perfect and we met thermals as soon as we took off, rising to 4,500 feet above Queenstown with some stunning views before making the decent, with a few aerobatic tricks thrown in for good measure (there were a couple of heart stopping moments when you realise that the chute is below you during some of the turns, but it was great fun). It was supposed to be a 10 minute flight down, but the conditions were so good we managed to reach the highest allowed elevation and it was about 30 minutes before we touched down - which would have been fantastic, but for the last few minutes I did start to think I was going to miss my flight! A quick dash to the airport courtesy of Rita's friend meant that I made check-in exactly two minutes before it closed. Phew!
Leaving New Zealand
My trip to South America started with a brief return to Christchurch. While we were in the south, we had heard news that it had been hit by more earthquakes (the airport had been shut for a couple of days) and you could see the new damage from the latest quakes as we drove into the city from the airport, but thankfully there were no casualties this time. An early flight to Auckland waited for me the following day, before flying across the Pacific and my first ever visit to South America.
So, is New Zealand just like "Wales on steroids"? Well, it is kind of like that, but it is so much more and the description really does not do justice to probably the most spectacular scenery I have ever seen. Is it worth a trip to the other side of the world? Absolutely: it's sweet as...
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