Back to Christchurch & Reality (of a sort!)

Hello blog fans (all seven oreight of you!), sorry it's been a while since we've updated our ongoing travel story, we've been bogged down in the mundane chore of looking for work and lodgings in what is now an increasingly wintery Christchurch.

So what have we been up to since Charlotte's last post ? It's probably best to go back to Dunedin, which seems like another decade to us now but is probably only a few weeks for people living in normal time!

I have to say we really liked Dunedin, we ended up spending five or six days enjoying both the city and the more natural environment of the Otago peninsula, which is practically part of the city grounds anyway. Dunedin has a particuarly British feel to it, the architecture and temperature contributing heavily to this. It's supposedly based on Edinburgh but, for some reason, reminded us heavily of Bristol. Dunedin University has a good reputation, and a large student population means the city is lively in the evenings, we even popped out to sample some of the after dark atmosphere ourselves (although we did end up in Piquinne-  Lonely Planet description: "sophisticated wine bar with an older crowd who stand around looking pleased with themselves for making it out to such a trendy venue" , yes that's us now!)

Scene of Dunedin's Harbour, taken from the Otago Peninsula

If you want some fresh air the Peninsula is a short hop out the city, offering walking tracks and the chance of seeing Blue Penguins, Seals / Seal Lions and the Royal Albatross. We were lucky enough to see all of them, the Sea Lions at particuarly close quarters.

We did have have half a thought that maybe we should stay and look for work in Dunedin, it's the kind of place that will have opportunities available as they stuggle to attract people down there and lose a lot of the younger workforce to the slightly brighter lights of Christchurch or the much brighter lights of Auckland and the North. Dunedin has got a surf beach (requiring high levels of motivation in Winter!), good surrouding countryside and property is still dirt cheap down there. In the end though the extra potential options of, and proximity of skifields to Christchurch won through, and we continued our journey north up the Coast.

By this stage money was running short, and the weather was closing in, so we decided to make a break for Christchurch as quickly as possible. We stopped only for the mandatory photo opportunity at the Mouraki Boulders, and to pass through Methven, in order for me to stop into the Mt Hutt Snow School to enquire about snowboard instructors courses (still under consideration).

The Mouraki Boulders - formed from calcite deposits (I think!)

Our plan now was something along the lines of this: Arrive in Christchurch and look for contract work in positions similar to our previous role. Work for three to four months, enjoying the benefits of the many close skifields at the weekend, whilst earning decent salaries that will allow us the top back up our much depleted savings. Make some contacts, then, after the winter take off to explore the North Island in MJ before returning to prearranged jobs and possibly permanent residency. All sounds great in theory!

In practice we were to find the Christchurch job market a harder nut to crack. We'd be warned that it can be a tricky place to pick up work, it's not the world's biggest commercial centre and known as being a bit parochial. In addition the economy here is still recovering from it's recession, even so after three or four weeks of scratching about with little success in the job market frustrations did start to creep in. For all our adventures of the past few years we are still successful professionals, used to having mutiple options when it come to looking for work. It's hard not to take it a bit personally, Charl missed out on one contract opportunity as she "didn't have enough experience", absolute nonsense of course. She was more than capable of doing the job but the old shcool mindset obviously in place at the company was "We need someone with fifteen years industry experience", so when the CV of a thirty year old lady was put in front of them they probably didn't even read through to se that she'd be perfectly capable of doing the work.

Can I remember how to do up a tie ?

The weather was also contributing detrimentally to our mind states, for two weeks in rained almost solid, whilst turning increasingly cold at the same time. This was unusual weather for Christchurch, normally a front will come in and blow through in a couple of days but for whatever reason it got stuck this year, resulting in record floods along the east. Pretty horrible weather to endure when you're stuck living in a 6' by 10' box on wheels. For the first time since we left the UK life felt a little bit challenging (appreciate this will invoke no sympathy from those slogging out forty hour weeks back home)

The great thing about Christchurch though is it's location as a hub for activities and trips away and we managed to dispell some of our job-hunting induced gloom by getting away on three consecutive weekends to explore the Port Hills just outside the city, back over to Punakaiki to see Sam & El, and north up the coast to the seaside town of Kaikoura.

Christchurch City, Southern alps in background. View from the Gondola, Port Hills.

The Port Hills border the city around the suburbs of Sumner, Mt Pleasant and South Eastern area's. On the other side of the hills lies Lyttleton Harbour and the Banks Peninsula. On the weekend the hills are teeming with Kiwi's running, cycling and generally being ridiculously active, from the youngsters right up to older types, lycra reigns supreme and there's barely space for your car on the road (you feel guilty for driving!).There's a lot of walking tracks and the touristy "Gondola" station where less active sorts take a cable car up to the top to enjoy an expresso whilst looking out over the city, the sea and the mountains beyond. Christchurch isn't a classically beautiful city to walk around, but from up on the hills the view is spectacular.

After enduring two weeks of terrible, terrible weather in Christchurch we took the opportunity to go back over to Punakaiki to see Sam and El. For once the sun was shining on the West Coast and the rain was elsewhere! It was also good to see a couple of friendly faces again after a couple of months worth of transitory acquaintances on the road. The West Coast is beautiful in the crisp, clear winter weather. Walking on the beach near to Sams we could see Mt Cook in the background, over 200km's away, something that's only possible with a clarity of atmosphere found in one or two locations on earth (according to some local walking their dog on the beach that is)

The Southern Alps loom in the distance.

We took the opportunity to go walking wtih Sam up the soon-to-be-flooded-for-hydro Mokihuni Valley, and Charl took another yoga class for the locals on the Monday night (she is fast becoming a Punakaiki favourite by all accounts!). The nice weather kept up for our drive back through Arthur's Pass, and although we had been concerned the pass might be snow covered on the eastern side we were back in Christchurch in four and a half hours without any problems.

The following weekend MJ (our self-propelled caravan if we haven't used her honorifc before) got another outing, this time up to Kaikoura. At Kaikoura the mountains drop down almost into the sea itself, and driving up in winter with the snow-capped peaks on your left and a turquoise sea on your right is a pleasure all by itself. It's about three hours drive to the north of Christchurch and has a chilled out, beach town atmosphere. It's well known for it's wildlife watching tours and is probably the best place to come to spot Sperm Whales in New Zealand, there's also dolpins, seals, penguins and albatross in the area so plenty for wildlife enthusiasts. Ten km north of Kaikoura a point break throws out a clean 500m right hander when the conditions are right, and an hour in land you can ride the snow instead at the Mt Lyford skifield. As you can probably guess this gives it top marks in my book.

A Seal chills out on the Kaikoura Peninsula

As luck would have it our trip to Kaikoura aslo coincided with the surf competition - "Kaikoura cold water classic" - so as a bonus we got to watch some decent surfing action. There's a great free camping spot close to the surf so we saved a few bucks at the same time. The following day I braved the cold water fora (quick) surf myself, catching what was probably the best wave of my life out by the point. Unfortunately by the time I caught it Charl had got bored and starting taking photos of shells on the beach so there's no photographic evidence, you'll just have to take my word for it!

So that's a few examples of what you can achieve in the weekends from Christchurch, and a good part of why we're considering the location as a longer-term home. It has been a bit frustrating living out of the van, and trying to find the work we were looking for, but things have just started to come togethor a month down the line. We are now sharing a little house in a suburb called Redcliffs with Paul, an english guy who has been here for three years. Paul's a mountaneer by background and typically of the expat crowd out here seems to have gone for the life full on - he's always out cycling, running, kayaking, surfing, climbing or skiing. It's this sort of common interest that we imagine we'll find prevalent among the people we meet here. It is simply that sort of thing that draws people here, I'm sure there's a good night out in Christchurch if you go looking for it but if you're more into partying than the outdoors stuff there's better places to base yourself I'm sure.

The area we have moved into, Redcliffs, sits on the estuary and is just five minutes walk away from the open surf beaches at Sumner. As it's getting colder the temptation to get suited up and hit the waves is certainly a bit less frequent then it used to be, but I've made it out a couple of times and it's great to have it on your doorstep, although it's not quite as immediatly convinient as living in Freshie!

That's me. Surf is two foot, not a massive paddle out and I was sharing it with one other bloke. Perfect.

It's only a tweny minute jump into the city centre but has a nice small community feel to it, if you're walking out to grab a paper from the local in the morning most people will say g'day as they walk past, it's nice. From the bottom of the road you can look out over the estuary, with the tall buildings of the city in the background and behind them the snow capped southern alps.

Our new residence in Redcliffs

I am shortly due to start a three month contract at a contact centre, making outbound calls to existing customers regarding their wills, home loans etc. Not something that will set the world on fire but  regular work that will pay for our rent and ski-passes over the season. Charl has just taught the first week of a four week introduction to Yoga course at a local gym in Sumner. She also is just about to start a six week temp job with a legal company. It's an administrative post and 930-1430, tue - fri, so it's not going to cause too much stress, and does leave her some spare time to try and pick up some more yoga teacher.

It's small steps towards our end goals at the moment, but at least we have some work and the opportunity to test out life in Christchurch and get some snowboarding in over the winter. We recently got our first days riding of the season at Mt Hutt and have spent the last few days in pain as muscles we haven't used for a while have taken a good pounding. The snow is here though and there's been a real buzz around the city as everybody skis or rides and people are looking forward to weekends out on the snow.The main commercial field, Mt Hutt, is an hour and half out the city but there are several club fields also within easy reach. Club fields are a classic bit of Kiwi community co-operation. They are small fields, run by groups of locals and volunteers, than are normally serviced by rope tows and T-bars. They'll often have a lodge, not to dissimilar to some of the DOC huts we've stayed at, that you can book into for the weekend.

New Brighton Pier with a funky sunet

Life here would be about getting out at the weekends and doing all the cool stuff that I've just been talking about. I could  easily see us ending up with bikes and kayaks in addition to the surf and snowboards. What's cool is that for the most part a lot of the expat crowd have come here for the same reason, so you'll never be short of contacts with similar interests. Hopefully we'll start to meet a few people through Paul and our work now so after a six month timeout can start to have something of a social life again!

It's not a done deal that we'll stay. Corporate jobs of significance, or suitability for us, are tricky to come by down here, most bigger companies will have their head office in Welly or Auckland. The work to live culture means people stay in the positions they've got, picking up a salary and making the most of life outside of work, which is cool, but does mean positions don't come up all that regurarly. In order to pick up the points for permanent residency one of us would have to get a position roughly similar to what we were doing before so work remains a key factor in our increasingly drawn out decision making process.

It seems like a socially stable place. Crime is low but the social decay which characterises urban settlements in the west is creeping in according to the local press The kids are really into dickhead boy racer culture, and there parents don't always set them the best example! The city is a lot quieter in winter than summer, and if we last through the winter and find we've not been too put off by the cold and inadequately heated houses then maybe that's a good sign. So early days yet but we'll let you know our thoughts again in a couple of months time.

Finally: I would just like to use this public, if admittedly not massively so, forum to express my utter disgust at the perfomance of the national football team yesterday. Quarter to six in the morning I got up, Charl dropped me into town and I wasted twenty bucks on food and drink whilst watching the complete drivel that was England Vs. Algeria. What has happened Fabio? did you get Shaun WP mixed up with Theo Walcott and send the wrong player back by mistake? have you simply forgotten that you brought Joe Cole with you ? Have you taken Rooney's favourite toys away leading him to drop into the footballing depression he's found himself in ? Did it not occur to you that if King got injured (and what are the chances of that happening with his record?) we'd be left without any sort of pace at centre back - knock a ball over the top and I'd have the beating of Terry and Carrager ? Why why why why why why ?

Enough of that, more blog in a couple of months ! Full photos at: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=230062&id=681815399&l=271bdb10cb

Cheers M'Dears

Si & Charlotte

South Coast Safari

After finishing the Kepler Track we had a final night in Te Anau before heading south along the 'Southern Scenic Route' towards the Catlins. Arriving at Tuatapere though we had one last opportunity for walking which we fancied as it involved coastal paths rather than the fiordland mountains we'd been living for the previous 4 weeks.

(View from close to our free campsite for the evening)

So bright and early, after a night on a kind farmer's station for free, we set off for just a two night tramp on the South Coast Track. It forms part of the Humpridge track – a privately managed walk with bigger and 'better' accommodation than you usually get from DOC huts. I think it costs at least $130 in season but from May onwards they decommission their huts and you can walk the whole track for $45.

Despite that option we decided that 3 days of 20km was perhaps a bit too much for us with how we were feeling, plus we could do the DOC part of the tramp on our hut passes and stay in the DOC hut which was an old school house.

So day one took us along the coast, with beach walking for about 17kn to a place known as Port Craig. It's an old timber milling place that was only in use between about 1917 and 1928. Now the only thing left in the School House – since it was owned by the Education Board rather than the timber milling company - and a few remnants of the wharf, sleepers for the train they used to carry the logs to the wharf and various rusty bits of machinery.

It was a lovely place to spend the evening and we caught sight of Hector's Dolphins down near to the wharf. We shared the school house with 2 other couples that night, one of them had actually booked the out of season Humpridge walk and said of the other hut that there was no way left of heating it and as it was up on the ridge (about 1000m I think) it was pretty damn chilly. The private company use the DOC hut in the off-season rather than 'Port Craig Village' a mini holiday complex place that they've built where Si and I think we counted enough bunkrooms for 80 people. I'm glad we just had 4 for company.

(Port Craig School House)

It's the most atmospheric hut we've stayed at and on our 2nd night we thought we'd have it to ourselves until a local hunter turned up. He was an interesting character to chat to though as he ran a paragliding business in Queenstown and had seen some massive changes in the town over the years. Good changes in terms of a lot more money and tourism being such a boon to the local economy, but as with so many popular tourist places, city money comes in to buy property, holiday homes and pushes prices up for everything from beer to groceries to rates the council charges. He's not sure how he feels about the overall result despite his business being successful all year round now.

On our 2nd day we walked 6km further along the track along the old tramlines to see the world's longest wooden viaduct that is still standing. The weather was a bit drizzly and we were both feeling a distinct lack of energy. All the Fiordland tramping was finally catching up with us so we headed back to the hut early, got the fire going and had a game of scrabble. We've been practising by playing open book – with the official scrabble dictionary – and this was the first time we've played for a while without the book so a combined score of over 640 (our highest ever) was pretty impressive!

Simon did say he was going to wax lyrical about community hut life, it's probably good that he ran out of creative energy as it would have simply been some intolerant rant about having to share space with other people. Simon loves it really, and he will be the first to admit that learning new card games off an Israeli chap, meeting long term ex-pats with their views on NZ, chatting to Kiwi's about their home and getting more space to spread out when sleeping compared to our van all makes communal hut living a great experience. Especially when the hut passes are such a bargain.

The walk out from Port Craig was tiring and I think there was a psychological element of our bodies knowing that once we got back to the van that was it. No more ridiculous long walks – for a little while at least – and after a short drive back into Tuatapere a treat of take-away fish and chips followed by a stack of homemade cinnamon pancakes with syrup went down a storm.

We started the drive through towards the Catlins the next day ending up at Invercargill. The biggest metropolis we'd see in quite a while. Population of 40,000 or so and not getting a great rep from people we'd spoken to. It was a bit of reality check getting into one of the main towns in the south, a few characters who wouldn't be out of place on Shirley High street on a Saturday afternoon and a reminder that New Zealand is definitely not on the world's rich list. Houses that can look quaint and cute when you first see them are also rundown and in need of more than just TLC. One very good plus point for Invercargill though was Devil Burger. The most interesting burger menu I've seen. I opted for the Dark Knight – Venison, salad etc, plum and apricot chutney.... Si went for the ManKiller. I thought my burger was big. Just the weight of the bag with his burger in was enough to make our jaws drop. Once it emerged from the bag we realised that he had ordered something that was easily bigger than Si's head, probably bigger than mine although a little bit smaller than Scott's.. Wow – he ate it all, unfortunately we didn't have the camera and he did say to me this morning that the continual background hunger he's been experiencing for the last month has finally subsided.

(Riverton - a quick lunch stop)

We continued along the south coast heading for Curio Bay – home to a 160million year old petrified forest visible at low tide and the rare Hoiho (Yellow Eyed) penguins. The penguins were amazing, a few people gathered around from about 5pm waiting for their exit from the sea up to their nests for the night. They would hop out of the sea into the seaweed and start the slow waddling walk along the rocks. They didn't seem in any rush to get to their nests and spent plenty of time waiting for playmates and preening themselves before bed. Fantastic. All of this happening whilst we're stood on the remains of the petrified forest which in itself is well worth a visit to the bay. Followed by a night's camping on a high spot overlooking the sea to 3 sides we were a bit spoilt. The campsite itself is nothing to write home about but it was quiet and the location was well worth the $15 fee to camp.

(Penguins!!)

(160million year old tree)

With more sunny, fine weather the next morning we had a long walk up the beach at Porpoise Bay keeping our eyes peeled for dolphins – there is a resident community that from the signs we saw obviously come close enough to swim with in the summer but settled for one lonesome sea lion.

There were plenty more sea lions though at our stop for the evening – Cannibal Bay. We headed along the beach and they were just there grunting, roaring, fighting and generally not getting around very quickly. That said we didn't want to be too close; 350kg of male sea lion could do a bit of damage. Another really special place and experience that was completely free and available to anyone taking on the 7km gravel road to the coast. We camped there for the evening undisturned except for mouse number 5 that met it's maker in our new well used mouse trap.  It is a shame that freedom camping has become such an issue in New Zealand.  Partially because of the sheer number of people renting campervans during the summer and possibly a few financial motives to keep the local economy turning over, it is getting progressively harder to camp out in New Zealand - particularly around urban areas.  Rightly so if people cannot be trusted to take away their litter and use public toilets but for responsible travellers, out of season it just gets a little bit frustrating.  Still - there are places around if you look hard enough.

(Sea Lions at Cannibal Bay)

From Cannibal Bay we decided just to hit the roads to Dunedin where we'll spend the next few days. It seems like a cool city, bit more artsy than Christchurch and an opportunity to tackle some internet jobs, sightseeing and a long-awaited trip to the cinema!!  There's also easy access to surfing along the coast which for some reason Si doesn't seem keen to get involved in... possibly the pre-requisite of a 7mm wet suit is something to do with it!  Next stop will be Christchurch when we'll check in with a somewhat more mundane blog I imagine covering our trip up the East coast and the hunt for work in Christchurch which is now looming!  (But on a plus side it also means that Odyssey Yoga will be up & running before too long). 

(Dunedin City Centre)

Love & peace,

charl x

Check out more photos at :

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=222392&id=681815399&l=8d8a621541

Fiordland

Fiordland. New Zealand's largest, and the world's fifth biggest, national park area. Towering, snow-capped granite peaks drop steeply into a series of azure (well, sometimes, weather dependent), fiords and great lakes, lower halves clad in dense beech forest. Home to three of the nine New Zealand “Great Walks”, including the Milford Track – possibly the world's most famous multi-day hike. Inhabited by a few hardy humans, accompanied by dolphins, seals, penguins, deer and an array of birdlife. A Mecca for trampers, hunters and sightseers the world over.

Something this good does not come without catches however, and there are certainly a few with Fiordland. Firstly the weather. Fiordland averages seven metres of rainfall per annum on the valley floor and up to eight to nine metres on the peaks, spread over two hundred and twenty rain days per year. That really is a lot of rain. The most common view you're likely to see is that of the rain hammering away at the window of your campervan, or maybe the interior of a cloud, when, after two or three days cooped up in your van you brave one of the mountain walks.

The rain isn't all bad news though. The drive to Milford Sound in the rain is an experience by itself, the road becomes surrounded by a huge avenue of waterfalls as the the rain makes its way off the mountains. The same could be said for a boat trip up Milford or Doubtful Sound. It's best to look on it as a win win situation.



The Fiordland Sandfly

Secondly Fiordland accommodates New Zealand's densest population of sandflies. The New Zealand sandfly is a particularly horrible little creature and even after a couple of months the bites it gives me can cause two or three bad nights sleep whilst I fight a generally losing battle against the urge to scratch my skin off. So bring your best cloth-melting insect repellent, or cover up, as every year hundreds of people (particularly those trekking the Milford Track) probably have a large dent put in their enjoyment of their holiday due to these nasty little critters.



Lake Manopuri & the Fiordland Interior

Finally, due to its terrain, Fiordland is not all that easy to get about. The road from Te Anau to Milford Sound aside, your car is not a massive aid to you. Fiordland is an officially designated Wilderness area for good reason. To really see the interior you need to go by air, water or lace up your hiking boots. There are a variety of scenic flights by chopper or small plane about, a great way to see Fiordland on a clear day. Like most services around here though it doesn't come cheap. Boat trips are available on Milford and Doubtful Sound and both day and overnight trips are available. Doubtful Sound is supposed to be the money shot, but at a minimum of two hundred and fifty bucks for a day boat cruise it'll have to go on our “list of things to do when we've got a bit more money” (steadily growing). Personally I think the way to see the Fiords is probably by kayak, but given it's been six degrees today I think we might come back and do that in the summer.

Seeing Fiordland on foot is what we've really come here for, but even tramping isn't all straight forward here. Most people will see Fiordland's interior on the Milford Track, the scenery is supposed to be world class, however the Milford Track is often fully booked months in advance so you're taking a gamble on the Fiordland weather and personally I'd rather gamble on Gordon Brown winning “comedy personality of the year” (or possibly the general election). The Kepler Track, another great walk, is an easier walk to pick up a short notice booking on but, although spectacular, doesn't have the fiordside scenery of the Milford. The Routeburn Track offers great views of the Hollyford Valley but then crosses the divide back into the Mount Aspiring national park, the scene of our previous tramping tales and an awkward four hour hitch or $150 odd transport fee to get back to your car.

Otherwise to really penetrate the Fiordland interior you're looking at something like the seven day Dusky Track. A remote walk requiring boat or planes in & out, a high levels of fitness and carrying locater beacons / mountain radios etc. In the local DOC stories of fatalities and near misses are on display in an effort to discourage the ill-equipped. The weather is so variable flash flooding and winter avalanches are ever present dangers.

Our first stop and indeed the first stop for most people coming into the park was Fiordland's main and only town Te Anau. Situated on the shore of its namesake lake, Te Anau is a chilled out little place geared up to supply trampers and adventurers heading out into the park. A couple of k's behind Te Anua an observation point set on a hill gives an excellent view of how the rural central Otago cattle flats end on the eastern shore of Lake Te Anau, whilst on the western shore the peaks of Fiordland rise steeply from the lake shore. Te Anau is also home to the best pie shop we have come across to date, Miles Better Pies, (the proprietor's name is Miles – great pie shop Pun). Stevo - I reckon that Pieman from Manly must have learnt his trade here.



Te Anau seen from the viewpoint

With a bad weather front approaching we opted to play safe with a two day / one night tramp by Lake Manapouri, twenty minutes south of Te Anua. As a tramp it wasn't too challenging, a water taxi over from pearl harbour, five hours walk the first day, a night at Hope Arm hut, then a nice easy three and a half hour walk back to the water taxi. It served as a good taster though and did give us our first look into the interior of Fiordland. The trip was probably most noticeable for introducing us to staying with Hunters, the other main group who tend to use the backcountry hut system.

Hunting is actively encouraged by DOC in New Zealand. Although indigenous species are all protected, introduced species like deer, possums and stoats are fair game for anyone who wants to have a pop. A surprisingly high percentage of Kiwi's will own a firearm's license (Charl: I now have an image of armed kiwi's walking through the bushes protecting themselves from the stoats. I think Si means the Kiwi people). We were now in the hunting season for Roe Deer, a two – three week period known as “the roar” as the stags roar to issue challenges and attract deer to their herd, although unwittingly they'll often end up attracting a bullet.

Hope Valley Hut, with an unfortunate Deer providing the dinner

We were pre-warned Hunters could be anyone from city guys on a holiday to proper hillbilly types or yahoos out more to drink whiskey then crawl around in the bush. This lot were a nice bunch of family guys from Wanaka. They had their own boat so had loads of stuff with them and we were treated to some spare venison (freshly shot), fruit juice and a chunk of apple & blackberry crumble that one of their wives had prepared – all luxury stuff when you're out on a tramp! A bunch of the hillbilly sorts did turn up later, but obviously decided there wasn't enough space for them all to hang their dungarees up or strum the tune from “Deliverance” on their banjos so they left shortly after.

We then overnighted back in Te Anau before taking off on the Milford Road, the winding 120km road to the famous Milford Sound. This road is how most people will get to see Fiordland and from about 11.00 onwards you have to take your place in the orderly procession of tour buses and rental campervans making their pilgrimage to the famous Sound. The route is punctuated by stops for roadside attractions, DOC campgrounds, day walks and car parks for several longer backcountry trails.

Now I try to understand these tours, I really do, and even as I'm writing this I'm telling myself to try not to sound condescending or patronising when talking about them – although I'm invariably going to fail. No, I do understand that tours are an informative and social way of seeing some of a country's highlights on a limited timescale. This however, is mass, conveyor belt, “drink now, eat now, go to toilet now – 5 minutes only please, thank you for travelling with real journeys we hope you have....etc”, tourism, and I can't help but view it with a sense of something between bemusement and horror.

We braved one roadside stop, the Chasm, and sat in the van watching the rain come down and the tour buses arrive with the regularity of WWF Wrestlers, making their way into the ring at 30 second intervals for the Royal Rumble. We braced ourself and made the break, managing to squeeze roughly in between two big tour groups. The Chasm as it happens is spectacular and well worth more than the minute that most of the shuffling masses have to give it. Picture this if you can, tourist in rain mac, umbrella in one hand camcorder in the other. Jumps out the bus and walks swiftly round the attraction, looking mainly down at his swift moving feet whilst swivelling robotically from the hips to record the surrounding landscape. Presumably the idea is to experience the holiday on your Plasma screen TV from the comfort of your own lounge?

Anyway, as usual I digress. We did do a Milford Sound boat cruise, it was mightily enjoyable even in the somewhat blustery, damp conditions. Here is our advice on doing Milford Sound. First take a drive along to the Milford Sound Lodge, just ½ km from the cruise ship terminal. Pop in, check the weather for the following day looks reasonable & enquire about rates /availability. Resist the urge to jump up & down and shout “Greedy corporate bloodsuckers” at them when they tell you they're going to charge you forty bucks for the privilege of sleeping in your own van – there is some serendipity to the situation. Then drive along to the Terminal, go and have a look round the four different cruise companies and decide which one you fancy going with. Head back to the lodge and book in for the night. The following morning get up early and check the Fiordland weather hasn't. had an overnight change of heart, always possible, and then book the first cruise of the morning through the lodge – at which point you should receive a $25 or similar discount which cancels out the extortion for camping. The early morning boats have no big tour groups so you can then appreciate the Sound in relative peace & harmony, getting back to your van and heading off just in time as “El Masses” tours etc.. all turn up in a blaze of camera flashes and oriental sounding noise pollution. For what's it's worth we took the 8:50 am Mitre Peak small boat tour, a bargain at forty bucks and well worth the money.



Rain and cold weather then stopped play for a couple of days, thank god we brought the Scrabble board along, a splendid way to pass a few hours on a rainy day. With the sun eventually making a comeback we set off on the Caples / Greenstone track. A circuit of 60km or so that we intended to take four days, three nights over, however due to leaving all our dinner food in its bag at the first hut was cut short to to three days/two nights. The walk is a pleasant valley walk for the most part, although the sub alpine saddle (995m) was tough work getting up from the southern side. Hunting was still in full flow with four hunters in every hut. In Greenstone Hut we were treated to the Redneck Yahoo type of hunters. They got up at four thirty in the morning, belching, farting, talking loudly and generally making it obvious that they didn't give a damn about the rest of us. W**kers. At another hut we met and chatted to a group of sixteen year old lads on a hunting trip. Sixteen year old lads, on their own, out with guns....you grow up quick in the country round here!



Crossing the very pretty Mckellar Saddle

Back to Te Anau we went again, a quick stock up on food and a trip to DOC to book our places on the Routeburn Track, one of the Great Walks and a connecting route between the Fiordland and Mt Aspiring National Parks. To save ourselves a marathon hitchhike back to our car we opted to walk into the first hut, Lake Mackenzie, on day one. Then on the second day we walked up the main peak, Conical Hill for a famous panoramic view of the Hollyford Valley & Darran Mountains, before retracing our steps to the Divide car park. The Great Walks are all well groomed tracks but this second day was still 30km and a good ten hours so we were happy to hit the hay on our return to the van.




The Hollyford Valley - Seen from the Routeburn

Another day was then spent waiting out some of Fiordland's finest rain before we embarked on the Hollyford Track, a valley based route that runs from near the Milford Road, skirts the side of the enormous Lake McKerrow and comes out on the coast at Martin's Bay. At a minimum track time of seven days, there and back, this was going to be our longest track to date, around 115km (return). Martin's Bay is supposed to be a beautiful slice of costal wilderness where you can see dolphins, penguins and seals on a regular basis and after all the alpine trekking we had been doing sounded like a marvellous contrast. We knew from the hut warden at Lake McKenzie that the weather was looking sketchy for a couple of days, but when you're setting off for seven days or more in Fiordland you're going to have to endure some bad weather so we off we went anyway. On the second day however we hoisted the white flag in the face of worsening rain and cut it short at lunchtime, stopping at Lake Alabaster Hut – about ten km and half the distance we were intending to cover.

Watching the rain pour down outside we decided the best course of action was to light a fire, dry our stuff out and see what the next day would bring. More rain, was the answer to that question, and indeed the day after that, and after that. In fact we couldn't really go anywhere anyway as the lake level had risen by at least two metres, flooding the path to a chest deep level. On the third day I, along with Rodney and Patricia, an older couple stuck in the same situation as us, decided to try our luck bashing our own path though the bush. We successfully circumnavigated the lake, but half an hour back down the path ran into one of the guides from a private lodge on the same path. The river had burst it's banks and the path back was chest deep in water we were told. The next day we did successfully manage an exit, getting pretty wet in the process. By this stage we just wanted to get back and check the van hadn't been washed away, however we bumped into another Pyke Lodge guide and found out the road back to Te Anau was shut due to flood damage anyway. With there being no way out to the sanctuary of a town we opted to take advantage of the the space and heating facilities of Hidden Falls Hut – just 2 hours walk away from the car park.

Flood damage caused by the heavy rains

The next day we were to find out that this was a record flood for Fiordland and that vast areas of farmland were under water and several main roads closed due to flood damage – and we'd been stuck out on a backcountry track. Bit of an adventure really, and luckily we were well stocked and had the comfort of a relatively new, twenty six bunk hut to enjoy for most of it. We did find out about another guy called Marcel, who we could tell was a day ahead of us on the track from his entries in the visitors book. He'd got stuck in between two creeks further up the track and had to set up his tent and camp by the side of the path for two days until the creeks went down enough to cross. A lesson in respect for the Fiordland weather.

We were pretty much done with Fiordland at this stage and there was increasing talk about going to find some nicer weather. We managed however to muster our energy reserves for one more big track, The Kepler, a 60km four day track in the mountains facing Te Anau. This really is a great walk, glacial valleys, lakeside tranquillity and a whole day's worth of alpine ridge walking with possibly the best views we've experienced so far.



Mt Luxmore Hut - Kepler Track
So there we go, Fiordland: great place, awful weather. I was going wax lyrical about the joys and challenges of communal hut life but my creative juices are running dry and I think that's a subject for the next post. Just a couple of notes to finish.

First: We've done well over 400km of walking treks in the last six weeks or so, normally carrying about 20k or so on our backs. We're quite capable of covering 20km in 5 hours without feeling to much in the way of adverse effects. As always though there's someone there to burst your bubble. Today we met a group of runners. Their idea of recreation is running three of the great walks in three days. Day 1: Milford Track – 50km, ? Vertical elevation. Day 2: Routeburn track: 35km ? v.e. Day 3 Kepler: 56km 1400m elevation. Just. Plain. Silly.

And lastly best campsite sign to date, spotted in the kitchen of the great lakes holiday park, Te Anau:

“Your mother doesn't live here, so please CLEAN UP YOUR OWN MESS”.

You tell 'em son, horrible little layabouts. For some reason a certain section of the backpacking crowd just can't their heads around the fact that Jeeves (or his dutch / german / scandinavian equivalent) simply can't get the time off the family estate to follow them around, clean up their dishes and put their garbage away!

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3 saddles, 3 days, 3 (not blind) mice

In the last blog Si left you with us tearing down the Wilkins River on a Jet Boat. We were on such a high coming out of the walk. You look in the mirror after 4 hard days hiking and you actually look different – despite the lack of sleep, washing and vegetables we looked healthy and alive.

Despite the need for some fresh veg we treated ourselves to schnitzel and chips at the Makarora Tourist Camp we were staying at that evening and I got the laundry done – stinking socks no more. After a very refreshing sleep that night we continued south to Wanaka; a beautiful lakeside town – really modern and chic in comparison to everywhere else we'd seen so far in New Zealand. Chatting to a local lady a couple of days later we heard how Wanaka has really developed over the last 10 years with a lot of people investing in holiday homes and people with money moving to be by the lakeshore and on the edge of the Mt Aspiring National Park. A great location both in summer & winter. We were quite taken with it and have debated whether it might be somewhere we could work over the winter. We're still not sure how the whole work situation is going to pan out so it's one to keep in mind.

(Main street through Wanaka)

We spent a couple of days just relaxing, catching up on internet, stocking up with food and eating! Wanaka was preparing itself for the Warbirds over Wanaka festival which only happens every second year over Easter weekend (involving lots of old planes from the World Wars flying over Wanaka). Locals warned us that it might be wise to be out of town before Easter weekend so on the Thursday we packed up from the cheap community campsite we'd found in Albert Town just outside Wanaka and headed along 30km of gravel road (which the van dealt with admirably despite the corrugations) towards a trail head in the Mt Aspiring National Park where we thought we'd be fine to camp over. We also tried our legs out after their 2 days rest and headed up to the Rob Roy Glacier – a simple 3 hour return walk but worth the effort for the close up view of the glacier. At Raspberry Creek car park we found it was fine to stay over, if we'd done any overnight hikes from there we'd have left the van in any case, and had a delicious dinner of steak, eggs and veg followed by caramel slice with yoghurt (NB steak in NZ is massively superior to the UK and substantially cheaper). Food really has become a bit of a focal point, to the extent that I'm making up recipes whilst walking and dreaming about breakfast each night. To be honest I was going to blame the whole food obsession on Simon but I think I'm just as bad.

I'm surprised pies didn't get a mention in the last blog but for sure they will next time as we have discovered the best pie shop in the whole of New Zealand (that we've visited..).

(View from Rocky Mountain track of Lake Wanaka)

Whilst on the Wilkins-Young tramp we'd met an older couple, she was Scottish, he was an Alan Partridge sound-a-like. Really knowledgeable on bird life and extensively travelled, they had had an interesting situation the night before setting off on the tramp - a mouse in their hire car!! They left a mouse trap in the car and were wondering whether it would have caught anything. Then, whilst in Wanaka we bumped into Nick (a fellow tramper from the same walk who had been listening to the story) and he told us that the first night back in his van after the walk he could hear scurrying and had since bought two mouse traps which he'd caught 2 mice in. Anyway, I'm telling you this because that night at the Raspberry Creek carpark we both woke up and thought we could hear rustling. We looked around, couldn't find anything, tried to go back to sleep. But we kept hearing noises, finally I pinpointed the sound to one of our drawers that I knew had a plastic bag in the back. Opened the drawer and lo and behold I could see the mouse trapped in the plastic bag. Obviously getting rid of mice is a man's job so I poked Simon awake from his dreams and told him to do something with it. We should have just emptied the whole drawer outside really but being half asleep Si grabbed hold of the bag but didn't have the end closed and next thing we saw the mouse was jumping out the bag, into the back of the cupboard and into wherever mice go to hide that make them invisible to human eyes. Rubbish. Anyway, I continued to hear it most of the night.

(Mouse - not cute. Si did suggest a photo of one of the ones we have since caught in a trap but I can't look at themso I doubt anyone reading this will want to either)

The next day we headed up the track to Rocky Mountain on the edge of Lake Wanaka and got some stunning views of the lake and the town. Rather than go back into Wanaka as it was Easter Friday now we turned south and drove through the Cardrona mountain road south towards Queenstown. Instead of going straight into the hustle and bustle of what is renowned as the party and extreme sport capital of NZ we stayed in quaint and gentile Arrowtown. A small place that still looks like the wild west with its pioneer time architecture.

(Main street in Arrowtown - busy with tourists, much more tranquil in the evening)

We both quite fancied a drink and head into the village for the evening, a much quieter place without the hordes of day trippers. What we didn't know was that in NZ nowhere can serve alcohol on Good Friday or Easter Sunday unless you are also eating (and supermarkets and shops cannot sell you alcohol). We'd already had dinner but by now the thought of a glass of Pinot Noir had taken hold so we decided that some non-essential spending on a glass of wine each plus peach cheesecake and hot chocolate brownie was ok. Mmmmmm.

With our body clocks set still on tramping time – I.e. Wake up with the light, we got up early and made full use of the campsite facilities before we had to leave at 10am. Instead of heading straight into Queenstown we went to the original AJHackett Bungy just outside town and watched a few brave souls jump off. Not for me, and just watching makes me feel a bit queasy but this particular bungy at around about the 50m mark (or a bit less) wouldn't be so bad that if Si had decided on his 'time / cost' budget analysis (haha) that it was worthwhile I'd have been able to watch him jump all right. Fortunately 2 seconds of freefall for $175 doesn't really pass the test so on we went to Queenstown. Where, with the array of shopping and eating facilities we made the split second decision to get out as soon as possible. Not before however we had a lovely walk along the lake edge, a proper feed of restaurant fish, wedges and salad at the casino ($10 lunch time special) and booked our transport for the next walk.

(Lake Wakatipu which Queenstown sits on the edge of - which at the time of posting this blog is on the verge of flodding the town centre....)

We wanted to do the Rees-Dart loop. A 4 night, 5 day tramp starting a little north of Glenorchy and heading through the Mt Aspiring National Park. We knew that there was rain due that afternoon (Saturday) but the front was supposed to clear Sunday and then it was supposed to be fine. We got a bit concerned chatting to the lady at DOC because ideally we were going to wait a couple more days but we knew that the track transport was getting full and there were apparently plenty of people who had been holding off starting the walk for the fine weather. And it was Easter weekend. A terrible combination that we could foresee but we decided to just go for it in the hope that the rain over Saturday night might at least make people wait until Monday and we would be a day ahead in the huts. That was assuming that we could ford 25 Mile Creek - a notorious crossing after heavy rain.

So, with transport to the trail head booked – we would be finishing at a different place to where we started and were leaving the van in Glenorchy – we set off along the stunningly beautiful road to Glenorchy all the time willing the rain to start on the basis that the sooner it began the sooner we'd get fine weather for walking.

That night we had at least 3 power cuts at the campsite and the rain left the grass like a quagmire. The clocks were changing that night so we had an extra hour of daylight to sort ourselves out in the morning before we got the bus at 9.15 along with 18 other random trampers (it was full) to the start of the walk.

Unlike the previous walk, right from the beginning there was a sense of urgency to the walking. Everyone knows the first hut has 20 bunks. We're 20 on the bus but we don't know if other people have driven to the start of the walk or who else might be setting off later in the day. Si and I got a fairly quick pace on and after a couple of hours everyone was well and truly spaced out. There were two other couples ahead of us and a German and Kazakstani guy also . Unlike our previous tramping we felt obliged to keep walking rather than have our usual photo & rest stops. So when we stopped for lunch after 3 hours, it felt well deserved. We'd covered 10km of bog & forded the river so we were wet and stinky already but the sun was out and we enjoyed our rest.

The 2nd half of the day entered into the National Park proper and we carried on through beech forest and grassy flats slowly following the Rees river valley. We arrived at Shelter Rock Hut at about 3.30 pm well within the suggested 6-7 hours it should take to walk the track and got ourselves a bunk for the night. We also got chatting to the other trampers who were going to become our fellow 'dorm' mates for the next couple of nights. As the afternoon rolled on the rest of the 20 trampers rolled in along with various faces who had obviously come in by some other means and before too long Simon & I had offered to share our bunk so a lady could have the top bunk, and by the following ,morning when we got into the kitchen there were sleeping bags on benches and the floor. There had probably been 30+ in the hut .

(A busy night at Dart Hut)

We got an early start the next day to head up the Rees river valley – once again alpine tussocky grass and clear sparkling springs - and over Rees Saddle (1447m). Once over the saddle we sidled along Snowy Creek, a deep river valley, before a final steep descent to Dart hut where Snowy Creek met the Dart River. We'd pounded through the 9km in only 4 hours and easily got ourselves bunks in the hut and had an afternoon to kill. Unfortunately the weather closed in a bit so we settled for a little stroll with the camera, a chilly splash in the river to clean off and then an early dinner. By the time it got to evening the hut was rammed. And when Nick, who we'd met on the previous tramp, turned up having crossed over Cascade Saddle – a notoriously difficult crossing – we gave up one of our bunks so he'd get to sleep for the night.

The next day started off cloudy but we were just doing a side trip from the hut so we were able to leave a lot of stuff, reserve a bunk for the evening and set off up to Cascade Saddle and the Dart Glacier. We set off with another couple but the girl twisted her ankle rock hopping across one of the first rivers. They were ok to be left – her boyfriend was an experienced mountain guide. But it goes to show how careful you have to be. (The following day she wasn't ok to walk out and an 8 hour trek followed by a 6 hours trek on a swollen ankle was not going to be fun).

Anyway, the day walk was astounding and made the whole tramp – any attachment to getting a bunk or competitiveness in walking – which is not the point of being out there was forgotten. The weather helped but the mountain landscape and views were truly phenomenel. We literally touched the snout of the glacier, kind of scary when you think about the power they hold and with the afternoon sun a bit of melt could easily cause some precarious boulders of ice to fall down.

(Me with the Dart Glacier - yes the grey dirty thing is the huge snout of the glacier)

The walk up to Cascade Saddle was steep, up scree slopes and snow grass but the view from the top was awesome & magical & truly enlivening. The cloud cleared so we had views of Mt Aspiring & the whole of the Dart Glacier. Well worth the effort and despite there being a few others up there with us – also having done the side trip from the hut - everyone was blown away by the place. One Israeli got to the top and literally whooped with joy!

(At the top of Cascade Saddle - 1524m -with Dart Glacier in the background)

Back down the valley and after an 8 hour day out we got back to a crowded hut. With a few folks camping outside we reckon the 32 bed hut had at least 60 people staying over for the evening. At least 2 school (Duke of Edinburgh) groups had turned up and but we were lucky to have an 8 bunk room shared with the guys we'd met from day 1 so it felt like home and we got a pretty good night's sleep. The evening had been spent plotting our next move though. To continue with the planned route meant certain carnage at the next hut. Just 20 bunks. The school groups were moving straight on and the Israeli's (who numbered at least 12) were also all heading that way.

When at 7 the next morning there were already people leaving we decided to cut our losses and head back the way we'd come in. It turned out well with me, Simon, Nick and Neil – a Kiwi who we'd met on this walk – taking the route back. Doing the track backwards really does give you a different walk, the downs become ups the views are reversed and we had even better weather than when we first came over. So the last two days walking out were really enjoyable after the high of Cascade Saddle. The last night was the coldest we'd had. We both were sleeping in long thermals and woolly hats in sleeping bags supposed to be good to -5c but were still cold. Don't think these huts have heating! The main rooms will have a wood burning stove but the sleeping rooms – at least in these huts - were separate buildings. By the last hour of the 5th day we were ready to stop but we got through and back to Glenorchy where the van had been left.

With glorious weather we got our laundry done and started to dry our boots and bags (we'd forded the Rees River about 10 times on the last day getting back) before heading for burger & chips for dinner.

(Numerous crossings of the Rees River - this one not too deep)

Friday saw us heading back down the 50km of road to Queenstown and having to resist the urge to spend any money. Without really meaning to we found ourselves in the MacPac sale (a NZ owned outdoor clothing brand) and leaving with two down jackets which we'd been admiring on other trampers who looked incredibly warm and cosy in the huts. The UK credit card is there for something.... After another $10 special lunch at the casino we thought we ought to get out of town swiftly and spent the evening in possibly the most stunning stop over we've had on the lakeshore of Lake Wakatipu.

It was also the evening that the mouse reappeared. After much annoyance and irritation I eventually caught him in a 'plastic bag with bread inside trap' and at about 6 in the morning took him for a walk a long way for the van before dumping him in a bush. Much to our irritation though it seemed like there was a whole mouse party going on that morning which reached it's most surreal moment with both of us lying in bed, head torches in hand ready to 'spotlight' the mice which sounded liked they were in the van. Si got the silhouette of one about to run into the front cab of the the van and we both lay there staring at him wondering what we were meant to do next. Of course the mouse made the first move and dived into the front cab somewhere. We rolled over and tried to get a bit more sleep. By the time it was light and I realised I wasn't going back to sleep I took the chance to do some morning yoga by the lake. Not something I'm getting to do very much – with no space inside and more often than not now a wet outside it's not so great. Still, the yoga postures are just a small bit of yoga, taking each moment of this trip and being in it and experiencing it completely is just as much what yoga is about.

(Beautiful free camping on the edge of Lake Wakatipu)

Back to the mice - we think they leave the van in the day – although we now have a mouse trap (ed. 2 at the time of posting this), baited with bread and sultanas, and we are also deliberating whether to create a water trap with the sink and a ruler. I'm not sure which of drowning mice, or squishing their heads in a trap is the more yogic. Neither probably, but now that they have found our underseat food stash – neatly nibbled plastic packets of noodles and ginger nut biscuits – we have to get a bit nasty with them.

We're now in Fiordland – home to rain and wind and rain. Also Miles Better Pies – but I will leave the joys of Fiordland for Simon to muse over next time.

With love from the unwashed and slightly undernourished (therefore it's okay to have 6 meals a day) Charl & Simon xx

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