I couldn’t help but have a huge smile on my face as my plane touched down in Wellington, more than 3.5 years after my three month adventure in 2008. I knew that I was only there for a long weekend, but it was a long weekend of watching rugby in what is arguably the rugby capital of the world. Sounds pretty good to me!

Immigration certainly didn’t do anything to wipe the smile away. I know immigration is usually not synonymous with “happiness,” but it was for me when I made a happy discovery. After the immigration agent laughingly tried to convince me to cheer for the All Blacks over the Wallabies (unlikely), she stamped my passport with an unfamiliar stamp — one that did not match the three previous visitor’s stamps that New Zealand had issued me with. As I wandered towards the airport exit, I peered closer and found that I had been given a resident’s visa with the description “holder may stay indefinitely.” I had no idea that Australian residents are accepted as New Zealand residents — I thought you had to get citizenship first! I know it won’t affect me in the short term, as I am firmly entrenched in Brisbane at the moment, but I just loved that I was issued permanent residency without even trying after all the effort it had taken to get in Australia!

World Cup fever was in evidence as soon as I got into the shuttle that would take me to my hotel. Flags hung all over the van, representing all 20 countries participating in the Cup. American and Aussie accents abounded in the van, and when we arrived at the Cambridge Hotel (my ‘old faithful’ hostel that I’ve stayed in many times in Wellington), all of their balconies were draped with flags as well. Just down the road a huge sign covered the side of a hotel, imploring the Kiwis to party like it was 1987 (the last time they won the World Cup).

Before going to NZ, I was in a bit of a quandary. Did I cheer for the US even though I knew nothing about the team, or cheer for the Wallabies because I’d followed Super Rugby and the Tri-Nations before the World Cup? I was considering a compromise where I wore red, white & blue with a Wallabies jersey, but in the end I decided to go all out American. After all, as Bobbi (who is currently working in Wellington) said, how often do I really get to cheer for the homeland anymore anyway? So, with this decided, I settled on white pants and the only piece of US-flag emblazoned clothing I own, a US Davis Cup shirt, and headed into Wellington.

And what a sight the people of Wellington were! There were clearly a lot of Aussies that had jumped across the Tasman for the match…and even some Americans that lived in Australia, by the look of a couple that had cut Wallabies & Eagles jerseys in half and sewn them together. Some had faces painted green and gold; others were swathed in giant American flags. Despite the rivalry, everyone was having a great time. I didn’t feel any of the resentment towards Americans that I have grown used to seeing whenever people are being obnoxiously American (ie, what everyone in Wellington was doing that day, at least visually). People wished each other luck at the game and had a laugh at jokes that were at their country’s expense. Cars emblazoned with American flags on their bonnet honked the entire way around the road and people chased them chanting “U-S-A! U-S-A!”

The best way to describe it all was festive. Honestly, the last time I felt an atmosphere like this was on Orchard Rd just before Christmas. Everyone was celebrating and putting aside their differences for just a day, and it was great. But I had a bit of a problem — for once, I just wasn’t American enough! Surprisingly, there was more American clothing in Wellington than I could find in 2 weeks in Texas — for some reason, they didn’t seem to be interested in the rugby — but I really didn’t want to spend $150 on a jersey from one of the many sports stores hawking official gear. Then I stumbled across my biggest find in Wellington, a little store in a side alley off of Cuba St called “Verboom.” Not only were they advertising free “I <3 Wellington” badges for any Rugby World Cup visitors, but they made custom shirts as well. The one advertised was specially made for anti-Aussie supporters (ie, all Kiwis) and had “Ireland 15, Australia 6” emblazoned across it.

It turned out that I had stumbled across exactly what I was looking for. The shop owner greeted me and asked me about the rugby, and as soon as he heard my accent, he started excitedly telling me about the shirts his friends and he had come up with for the game that night. Apparently all of them were going all-out American for the game and had come up with some slogans for their group. As soon as he showed me the sheet of designs, I practically begged him to let me buy one off him. Of course, owning a shop based almost entirely around selling custom shirts, he was very happy to. So this was how, an hour later, I came to be wearing this shirt:

Lose by less than 30? Yes we can!

It was exactly what I wanted–an out-of-the-ordinary way to show my support–and it was well worth every penny, especially for the people it led me to meet. But that is a tale in itself, and best saved for another post. In the meantime, suffice it to say that I can’t imagine a more welcoming environment for a major sporting event, or in general really. I’ve always loved the friendliness of the Kiwi people, and both they and all of the visitors took it to a new level for the Cup games in Wellington.

I know you guys might have been hoping for a conclusion to my previous post. It is in the works, but I thought I’d get these photos up while I was at the internet cafe.

Without further ado, here’s the list of what’s been added/updated (denoted by a ***):

New Zealand
***Queenstown: more from Deer Park Heights & the Remarkables.
***The Milford Track: from days 3 & 4 of the track (with plenty from going over Mackinnon Pass).
Milford Sound from Land: from around Milford Sound township.
Milford Overnight Cruise: from my overnight on the Milford Wanderer in the beautiful fiord of Milford.
The Kepler Track: from my overnight trek onto the Kepler Track, up to Mt. Luxmore & Luxmore Hut and back.
Kayaking Doubtful Sound: from my 5 hours on remote Doubtful Sound and the long (but stunning) trip to/from the sound.
Warbirds over Wanaka: from the biennial warbirds airshow held at Wanaka airfield.
The West Coast Road: from my day-long bus trip between Wanaka and Franz Josef Glacier.
***Franz Ice Climbing & Quad Biking: plenty more shots of me looking stupid trying to climb ice walls and from the Waiho river valley where I went quad biking the next day.
Drive Across Arthur’s Pass: from my day-long bus trip between Franz Josef Glacier and Christchurch.

Australia
Queensland Sunsets: sunset shots from a few different days in Queensland.
Queensland Flowers: currently only shots of some pink hibiscus in James’ mother’s garden, but I’m hoping to add more when I go back sometime.
Queensland Animals: shots of kookaburras and blue-tongued lizards.
My Australian Family: some of my favorite shots from some photos James’ family and I took while I was up the Sunshine Coast.
Apartments in Perth: pictures from my (very fancy) temporary accommodation. None of my current apartment, and those will probably only be available to “friends” on Flickr once I do add them.
Kings Park: the beautiful Kings Park, which was just up the hill from my temporary accommodation. Also, shots of the ANZAC Day dawn service held at the war memorial there.
Scarborough Beach: my first glimpse of the Indian Ocean!
General Perth: where I’ll chuck all my pictures that don’t fit into other sets from Perth. Right now, it’s just fireworks pictures from a display I was lucky enough to see a couple weeks ago.
John Forrest National Park: the “Australian” pictures everyone is waiting to see. These are from a fun BBQ I went to yesterday up in the hills near Perth. Plenty of red dirt, gum trees, kookaburras, and kangaroos!

Anyway, this blog has pretty much been about me running around like a beheaded chook trying to do everything I possibly can while in New Zealand. I finally decided that, after over 2 months of running myself ragged, that it might be good to have a day of relaxation (especially since I don’t want to turn up at training in Perth absolutely knackered!). So, instead of sticking around in Christchurch for my last day in NZ, I caught the “Hanmer Connection” bus into Hanmer Springs, which is about an hour-and-a-half drive towards Lewis Pass, which crosses the Southern Alps that divide the island into east and west coasts. This also meant that I made good on my vow, made after the Copland Track, that the next hot springs I was going to go to were going to be some that I could ride a bus to rather than walking 17kms!

The hot springs were housed in a complex that cost $15 for a return ticket, meaning I could leave and come back in once. I paid the extra $5 for unlimited access to the waterslides as well just for kicks. The pools themselves were very much like warm swimming pools, in that they were concrete-bottomed and surrounded by sidewalks; it was not at all like the natural springs at Welcome Flat, but at least I didn’t get my swimsuit covered in mud the day before I flew! There were plenty of choices of what to swim in–I could go in the freshwater, chlorinated pool, the various heated swimming pools, the rock pools that used filtered natural hot spring water, or the hot pools that had 40 degree C unfiltered, fully natural and very sulfurous, water. My friend that I met on the bus and I went in the unnatural hot pools, followed by the very hot pools (which we couldn’t sit in for more than 5 minutes without breaking out into a heavy sweat), followed by the rock pools. All of them were quite nice to just sit and relax in, although I suppose I was a bit disappointed in the scenery–I thought there were going to be mountains all around, and while I could see a few, the complex blocked most of the views. There were quite a few nice redwoods around, but I suppose the 17km walk on the Copland Track was worth it, because it was absolutely nothing compared to that. The waterslides were pretty fun too, but there were only a couple pretty small ones; they were a nice change after sitting around for a couple hours though!

After I showered and changed into dry clothes, I had lunch in town and then headed for Liz Ryan Massage, where I treated myself to a 45-minute massage. It was really quite good, since my back and neck muscles had really tightened up over the course of the six overnight walks that I did in NZ. Plus, I’d never had a professional massage before. I left feeling calmer and with a slightly less wound-up neck & back. From there, I had a wander down the main street before heading back into the hot pools for the rest of the afternoon, where I talked to a couple for a while before leaning back and literally nearly dozing off and missing my bus.

I thought this was a really good way to end my trip–mellowed out with nothing to worry about, just trying to get my body ready for the daily grind that I’ll be starting in a couple weeks. However, the next morning somewhat shattered that calm that I had created with my trip to Hanmer when I arrived at the airport at 4am only to find out that all of the flights out–all to Australia at that time of the morning–had been put on hold after a phone call from Auckland grounded all Airbus A330s (I think–I know it was an Airbus, just not sure what type). The AirNZ flights to Melbourne and Sydney got cleared pretty quickly, but unfortunately the Brisbane plane failed the test, so we were removed from the line and handed $6 vouchers to buy food in the airport (sound familiar, Megan and Cristina?). This will buy exactly 1 bacon & egg McMuffin imitation, so they weren’t exactly being generous; plus I was annoyed that I was the second person lined up for Brisbane and they were making me give up my precious spot in the queue, which now stretched nearly to the door of the terminal.

After eating my tasty meal, I lined up at the departure tax counter to try to pay my $25 fee for leaving the country, but when I reached the counter they told me that all of the people going to Brisbane had been rerouted through Auckland and that I should check before paying, as they would not refund me and I would have to pay again in Auckland since the airports are owned by different private corporations. I feel like I was understandably frustrated when I went to the counter and asked about this new development; they told me that yes, the flight had been cancelled and that I could get the last seat on the plane to Auckland. Why had they not announced this to the general public? I don’t know. Perhaps it was a test that only the most insistent people could pass. I nearly killed the guy at the counter when it took him forever to check me in. He didn’t want to let me on the plane because I didn’t have a return ticket from Australia, and it didn’t seem to make sense to him that I had a 4-year-long visa. He finally decided to actually read the documents I handed to him and issued me the tickets, but it sure took him a while and I certainly wasn’t going to buy a return ticket (like Jetstar made someone I met do at the gate when she tried to come over to NZ) because my visa didn’t require that.

I finally made it to the gate and was trying to calm myself down for the flight when a friendly couple from Noosa sat down next to me. We got to chatting; they were also flying to Brisbane and were also slightly perturbed because they had a shuttle booked that they were now going to miss. They sat in a different place on the plane than me, but we ran into each other again in the massive queue of Brisbane-bound people waiting for the inter-terminal bus in Auckland and then again after we cleared security. At this point, even though I was running 3 hours behind schedule, the extra detour to Auckland started to seem okay; this was mainly because the duty-free store had a 20% off special for anyone buying alcohol and going to Australia. I ended up getting the requisite 2 bottles of Bundaberg Rum for $46NZ–cheaper than it’s sold in Brisbane’s duty free, which is crazy since it’s made only a couple hours from here!

The gate area for the Brisbane flight was absolutely packed, and I hadn’t realized that we were flying on a 747 across the Tasman Sea. Even more shocking was that, after talking to the couple from Noosa and a few other people, I found out that everyone flying from Christchurch had actually been upgraded! The only thing about this that angered me a little was that I had been upgraded to premium economy while many of the other passengers had been upgraded to business class–something I would have gotten if they hadn’t made me leave the line and then not announced any further developments! I couldn’t complain too much though, because I had an extra 6 inches of leg room, a footrest, a cabinet in which to put my carryon so it didn’t get in the way of my feet, only 1 seat next to me (I was on the aisle) as opposed to 2, a dedicated flight attendant for our 4 rows that brought us any food or drinks we needed, a thicker blanket, and a better TV screen. Not too bad, considering I paid a normal economy fare!

Even better was the fact that the couple I knew were upgraded to business class, as well as a couple from Rockhampton that I’d talked to in the airport. They told me that I had to come up and visit them, which I did after having lunch. Everyone in business class had had a 3-course lunch with plenty of free alcohol, so they were all feeling rather happy. When I arrived, they let me sit down and ordered me a glass of champagne and then took pictures to document it, given that I will probably not be in business class again anytime soon! It was fortunate that I’d bought a nice work outfit a couple days before I left because I actually looked like I fit too. Good lord though, the things they are given in business class are insane; they got a chair that reclined and flattened into a bed that joined up with their ottoman, all the magazines they wanted, privacy in the small walls between each seat, which was only one to each side of the aisle, free champagne and good food, etc, etc, etc. The ottomans even have seatbelts on them so people can wander around and chat with one another, as I was clearly doing. I really enjoyed myself, and since I sat there until the seatbelt sign came on for landing, I was even given one of the express passes through immigration and customs since the flight attendant didn’t realize I didn’t belong in business!

The only downer after getting off the plane was that my photo album was taken off me; I had bought it especially for New Zealand prints and it had a nice kiwi design on the front plus a few leaves pressed into it. Unfortunately, the binding was partially made of banana leaves, which were apparently impossible to remove or treat. I was given the option of either sending it home at a cost of over $50 and lots of time or just throwing it away. I chose to chuck it so it wouldn’t become even more of an exercise in wasting money than it already was, but it was very sad since I didn’t buy a huge number of souvenirs for myself.

Overall though, it was a good last few days and it ended with what was possibly the best flight I’d ever had…and then I got to see James at the airport! And for those that are keeping track, he did reach his goal of raising $1000 for leukemia. He shaved his head a few weeks ago, but since he just reached that marker, we got to wax his legs this weekend. It was quite amusing, although disturbing to see the amount of hair that came off and how much he liked his smooth legs afterwards!

I didn’t do a whole lot else in Franz yesterday besides eating free Chateau Franz soup and taking a long dip in the free spa. Today hasn’t been too exciting a day either, since I spent the vast majority of it on a bus and the rest of it wandering around Christchurch, enjoying the good weather I didn’t have the last time I was here. I’m glad I didn’t try to change my buses/accommodation to leave Franz a day earlier and stay in Arthur’s Pass last night, since it was raining with very low clouds when we arrived this afternoon. Arthur’s Pass is essentially just a small village with lots of tramping tracks around it–many of which are dangerous in wet weather, including Avalanche Peak, which is the one I wanted to climb. It’s probably best I didn’t anyway, with my iffy ankle and the stories I’ve heard about people having to crawl to the top while cheeky keas peck at their packs.

Well, that’s all I have to say for now. Also, I’ve uploaded more shots from my helicopter ride in my Franz Josef album, even more pictures in my Milford Track album, and the first few shots I took of Milford Sound. Enjoy!

The day started very early at 7.45am, since they like getting the climbers geared up and onto the glacier before the hoardes of day walkers appear. We were introduced to our three guides for the day and given most of the appropriate gear: backpacks, harnesses, hard shell boots, woolen socks, and raincoats. Once we traversed the 4km access road to the glacier, the guides gave us the rest of the necessary kit, namely helmets, ice axes, and crampons. The crampons were definitely real ones, as opposed to the gimpy ones provided at Fox that only have a couple spikes in the arch of your foot. These had 11 spikes, 4 of which stick out of the front which we used in our ice climbing.

 The walk to Franz Josef is probably only half the length of the walk to Fox because of the completely different directions of attack that the two guiding companies have. To get onto Fox, you have to take a path through the rainforest and up 600 steps before arriving at the side of the glacier, which you hop onto without too much trouble. On Franz, you walk up the river valley for about half an hour until you reach the terminal face, which has stairs cut into it that everyone has to climb up after strapping on their crampons. This makes it quite a lot more taxing than Fox Glacier, which is definitely the flatter of the two. I agree with Astrid (one of the guides) who said that Franz has the much more dynamic landscape; she also noted that Franz is the steepest guided glacier in the world. Pretty cool!

It didn’t take us all that long on the ice to find our first ice wall. This was the “learner wall,” but it was a lot taller than I thought it would be! While Neville and Lee set up the ropes for the three climbs up various sections of the wall, Astrid took us to “ice climbing school.” This was essentially a very quick instructional on how to position yourself on the ice, how to dig your crampons into the ice the right way, and how to balance yourself (not by holding on to your axes, but rather, distributing your weight so you are leaning into the wall and putting all of your weight onto your feet). I was still struggling with trusting my crampons on solid ground, so I was a bit worried about trying the ice climb even after I managed to do a bit of a mini-climb on a smaller wall nearby.

Since there were 11 of us and only three guides/ropes, we had a fair amount of waiting time between climbs. After waiting for a few people to go, I finally got myself psyched up and got onto Astrid’s section of the wall. Now I’m an awkward enough person as it is, but apparently me attempting to ice climb magnifies this by about 100x. I couldn’t get my weight distributed correctly and ended up hanging off of the ice axes because I didn’t trust the spikes on my feet to hold my entire weight. Because of this, I ended up too far away from the ice with my butt sticking out. I’m sure it was thoroughly amusing for everyone on the ground, and Astrid certainly got a voice workout yelling at me telling me to get my butt in. Somehow I managed to get to the top of the wall (even though I accidentally smacked the rope with the ice axe–not a good idea, since the rope is essentially your lifeline and ice axes are very sharp) and then abseiled back to the bottom…and it only took me probably double the time that most everyone else took. Luckily, my climbing technique really improved over the next two climbs through lots of coaching from the other two guides, and I made it to the top of those walls without too many dramas, albeit a bit slowly (although as Neville said, “It’s not a race!”).

A totally random thing happened between my second and third climbs. As I was waiting for someone to finish his climb, some of the halfday walks came through, and I looked up and recognized one of the guys on the climb. This isn’t too odd, since that’s happened to me since about the second week of my trip, as evidenced with (British) James that I ran into at least 6 or 7 times in the span of the same number of weeks. However, once I realized where I knew him from, it was a bit strange…since he’s a couple years below me at Rice! To top it off, he was studying in London for the semester but over in NZ to visit his girlfriend. Talk about a small world.

We were all a bit on the freezing side by the time all the climbs were finished, since the wind had whipped up to a reasonable speed and we were in a pretty exposed spot of the glacier. So, instead of eating lunch there, we moved to our second spot of the day with more difficult climbing walls. The walk to these walls was downhill with some pretty steep stairs cut into the ice, and I got yelled at because I misunderstood the instructions and held onto the handrope with my hand in the wrong direction. I was a bit frustrated with this, since I got comments lobbed at me like “you don’t have to follow my instructions if you don’t want to, but it is for your own safety” before I was moved to the front of the group, just behind the guide (Lee) who I guess wanted to keep a closer eye on me. I know I wasn’t the quickest person on crampons there, but I didn’t feel that I needed to be watched like a 5-year-old. That was the only time that I was unhappy for the whole day, despite not being particularly good at ice climbing.

After lunch, we got to have a crack at the more difficult walls. While the walls couldn’t get much steeper than the previous ones, they did have more varied terrain–lots of biggish holes and overhangs–and some of the ice was much harder, as evidenced by its much more blue color. I tried Astrid’s wall first and managed to get about halfway up before I realized my boot was way too loose. Whenever I tried to put my weight down on my left foot, I could feel the boot slipping further than I wanted it to go, which made me much more unstable than I would have liked. So, Astrid lowered me down and let me fix my shoes before I had a second go. This time I made it pretty far up the wall before I got in a position where my feet weren’t quite the anchor I’d hoped for, and one boot, then another slipped out from under me. I wasn’t scared because Astrid was anchoring the rope and I knew I couldn’t drop more than a foot or so; I was more worried that I’d lose my grip on the axes and not be able to get back up to them. I did hold on, and after a bit of swearing managed to get myself back on the wall again, but I came down pretty quickly after that. I made the little indentation in the wall before the very top but not quite the top, but I was still happy with the climb, especially after Astrid told me that it was a much, much better climb than the first one I’d done with her.

My next climb was with Lee, who I don’t think had any confidence in me at all because he told me I could go as far as I liked and just yell when I wanted to come down. Hopefully he was surprised when I actually managed to follow his instructions this time around and got within “3 steps of the top.” The ice on this wall was much harder than on the others and it gave my ankle a bit of mischief when I tried to kick the ice and dig in my spikes, so I decided I needed to come down once I realized that my ankle might not hold me for a few more steps. It’s probably good that I did because when I took my boot off, the skin around my ankle was discolored and there’s a strange lump right above it…

My climb with Neville went about the same. I didn’t quite make the overhang on top, but I still made it a fair distance up the wall, which I was pretty pleased with given the fact that, after seeing Astrid demonstrate at the beginning of the day, I wasn’t sure if I’d make it up any of the walls at all. I really had a lot of fun and it was something completely different that I’d never tried before (and possibly won’t get to again, given the lack of glaciers in Australia in general). Plus, it’s good to push yourself and try to do things you didn’t think possible–although I feel like I’ve done plenty of that on this trip already!

• The Milford Track: as I’ve mentioned before, awe-inspiring and just amazing, even if it was very tiring. 33.5 miles of walking along the first track ever found into Milford Sound.
• Overnight cruise in Milford Sound: What an experience. Milford Sound is the most spectacular of the 14 fiords in Fiordland, and I was lucky enough to spend an afternoon, night, and morning on a small cruiser out in the midst of it all. We went all the way through the fiord, past the mighty Mitre Peak, to the Tasman Sea and then got to kayak in a bay near the mouth before being fed amazing food and watching the sunset. Watched the sunrise the next morning too. Stunning.
• The Kepler Track: After the ride home from Milford, which is an experience in itself as you go through the various valleys and still more beautiful scenery, I sorted my backpack and went directly onto the Kepler Track, a loop track in the Kepler Mountains outside Te Anau. I feel like I’m a broken record, but once again, I’ll talk about scenery. once I left the treeline, it was amazing. Panoramic views full of lakes, valleys, mountains, and alpine tussock. We went caving at the Luxmore Caves next to the hut that night and then I climbed Mt. Luxmore the next morning before returning the way I came (didn’t have time for the whole track).
• Kayaking on Doubtful Sound: Today, I went for a kayak on the only other (relatively) accessible fiord, Doubtful Sound. To get there, we had to go in a bus to the wharf, on a 45 minute boat ride across Lake Manapouri, and on a 45 minute bus ride across Wilmot Pass–so it’s quite a commitment! Well worth it though–the sound was so much more isolated and quiet than Milford, which is apparently visited by 3000-6000 people per day. We could put down our paddles and literally just listen to the complete silence, broken only by the calls of birds. Even though the fiord doesn’t have massive mountains rising out of the sea like Milford, it’s still quite a sight to see. The walls of the fiord don’t look too high until you see a tiny boat anchored at their base! Just like everything else I’ve done in Fiordland in the last few weeks, I left feeling wowed. I loved it.

I wish I could write more, but I have to make some phone calls and take care of some other business, since my Australian visa has been approved. It was actually approved while I was on the Milford Track, but the first email from my company didn’t go through and I’ve just now gotten in touch with them. This explains the title of the entry; the end of my trip in New Zealand is looming because I have to go back to work and real life. Sad, but I’ve had such a fantastic time in New Zealand that I really can’t complain. All told, once I depart the country, I will have been here nearly 10 weeks and will have done as much as I humanly could in that time. Plus, this means that I can see James again on my way across Australia! Can’t complain about that one bit

I’ve been staying in Te Anau taking a bit of a rest after doing the Routeburn Track, and I’ve run into a lot of people I’ve met in previous places–Johanna that I traveled with in Wanaka and Queenstown, Nick that I did the glacier walk with in Fox, and James that I seem to run into everywhere–plus I’ve met a few more cool people as well.

My first day in Te Anau really didn’t consist of much except spending excessive amounts of money–namely on my new camera as well as a silk liner for my sleeping bag since it’s nowhere near warm enough at night (see my second Routeburn entry for a description of that). Nick, Rachel, and I all cooked dinner together at the hostel which was great since I’m very sick of cooking for myself every night! We managed to turn a bunch of interesting ingredients into a very gourmet dinner, complete with New Zealand red wine.

Yesterday I met up with Johanna and we went to the cinema in an attempt to avoid the deluge of rain outside. This cinema is a special one because it mostly shows one film, called “Shadowlands.” This is a breathtaking 30-minute film of helicopter shots over Fiordland, which is by far the most spectacular part of New Zealand. The guy that filmed all of the footage then decided to build the Fiordland Cinema since he had nowhere to show it. For $10, it was much cheaper than getting in a helicopter (which can cost up to $900)! By the time we left the theatre, it had completely quit raining and the sun had come out, so we went to the Te Anau Wildlife Centre on the lakefront. There is supposedly a large range of native birdlife in this park, although we were a bit disappointed when we could only see about 6 birds total in the many different enclosures–and most of those were sleeping! We did see one old takahe, a funny-looking bird with a massive red beak that was thought to be extinct until the 1940s when a small population was found in the mountains across the lake from Te Anau.

After the visit to the sleeping birds, Johanna offered to drive me to Lake Manapouri, 20kms away where she was staying. I jumped at the chance since I had wanted to go there anyway, even though I wasn’t sure what was there besides boats that go to Doubtful Sound (the second largest fiord in Fiordland and so named because Captain Cook knew his boats could get in to the harbour but he didn’t think there was enough wind to get them out). We ended up running into James, a guy that I’ve run into in seemingly every town in New Zealand, and going for a walk to Fraser’s Beach and along the lake to Pearl Harbour (yes, fun name, I know). James and I had fun taking just about a million pictures of the mountains and the lake while Johanna just watched us, probably stunned that we could take that many pictures of the same thing!

Johanna stayed in Manapouri while I went back to Te Anau to get ready for the Milford Track and to visit the Te Anau Glowworm Caves. The two hour long trip started with a cruise across Lake Te Anau on another startlingly gorgeous day in Fiordland. We all stood on the top deck admiring the various “fiords” on the lake (really just arms of the lake surrounded in more huge mountains). The tour through the caves was probably about 30 minutes in length. We spent part of the time walking through the caves (which are carved out of limestone and sandstone by water from the Orbell Valley above) and part of the time in a boat in the complete darkness, floating on one of the calmer stretches of the river as glowworms lit the walls and roof of the cave up with their green glow. Even though I’ve seen glowworms a number of times, they still seem magical (at least, until you think about the fact that they are actually burning their poo to attract insects to eat for dinner). It wasn’t quite the same experience as blackwater rafting through the caves as I did in Waitomo three years ago, but I was definitely a lot warmer this time around. Afterwards, we got to watch infrared video of a glowworm at work catching its prey, which was pretty cool and something I’d never seen before. Overall, for a very tightly controlled tourist attraction that sees nearly thousands of visitors each day, it was still pretty cool.

The next day, it was off to the world-famous Milford Track, which runs from the top end of Lake Te Anau into Milford Sound, one of the most spectacular fiords in Fiordland. I have to go because I’ve only got 2 mins left of internet, but I will write about it soon. It’ll probably have to be a 2-parter again because of everything that happened (all good–no body/camera breaking this time!).

 Since it was only about 4 o’clock when I arrived, I had plenty of time to kill at the hut, although I didn’t do what a couple did, which was go to sleep at 5, not eat dinner, and then wake up at 6.30 in the morning. After dinner the hut warden gave us a talk, which all hut wardens do on the Great Walks. Clive was absolutely hilarious, and I swear he wanted to be a standup comedian before he became a warden on the Routeburn 15 years ago. He started out with the weather forecast for the next day, which was “wet rain in the morning, followed by dry rain in the afternoon, with a few snow showers and some sleet.” It’s fortunate that one didn’t come true! He then regaled us with the history of the Routeburn Track followed by a few stories that I guess were supposed to teach us fire safety. The first involved a woman who decided to dry her trainers by putting them on the fire itself, which ended in them bubbling, Clive throwing them outside before they caught on fire, and her having to finish the track in a pair of his gumboots that she later had to return to the Dept of Conservation. The second truly intelligent woman to come to Lake Mackenzie Hut decided to hang her wet underwear on the grill next to the stovepipe. They managed to fall into the grill and began smoking. Everyone in the hut tried to get them out, but since the grill wouldn’t come off, it was a bit difficult. Clive concluded the story by saying “So I’ll never forget the night of the burning knickers!” Needless to say, all of us were in tears by the end of the thirty minutes and probably burned as many calories laughing as we did walking during the day.

I wasn’t nearly as cold that night as I was on the first, which I guess can be attributed to the fact that Lake Mackenzie Hut was lower in altitude and in a valley. At the Falls Hut, I slept in a Tshirt, 2 thermal shirts, 2 pairs of longjohns, a pair of pants, socks, gloves, and a beanie. I didn’t have to wear the gloves and a beanie at the Mackenzie Hut, which is better. I’ve still decided to buy a silk sleeping bag liner to warm it up a bit for my next few walks!

I left Mackenzie Hut much later than all but three other walkers, since my bus out of the Divide at the end of the track wasn’t until 5.45pm. This also had the added advantage of giving the clouds time to clear before I got to the bushline, which was about 30-40 minutes away. When I got to the point where the trees cleared, the clouds were just hanging over the tops of the Darran Mountains across the valley from me, and the effect was just astounding. They hung over the peaks, giving them much more atmosphere than they would have on a completely clear day. Every few feet I had to stop to take yet another picture of the rocky peaks and the valley seemingly miles below them. These were definitely the best views of the entire walk to that point.

About halfway between Mackenzie Hut and Howden Hut are the Earland Falls, which plummet 174m off of a cliff into a small pool below. The track passes nearly underneath via a bridge and some climbing on rocks. This was by far the coolest waterfall I’ve ever seen, and I was so close to it that my raincoat had little rivulets of spray running down it. Had I packed a lunch, I easily would have stopped here to eat it, even though the falls were so loud that it would probably give me permanent hearing damage.

Another 1.5 hours and a lot of slogging through mud later, I got to Lake Howden Hut, which was beautifully set on the shores of–you guessed it–Lake Howden. Unfortunately, it was also swarming with sandflies, so I ended up eating my lunch inside. Then I did possibly the most intelligent thing so far on this trip; as I walked down to the shores of Lake Howden with my backpack on, I tried to take my camera out of my raincoat’s pocket and dropped it about a meter onto the rocks below. When I picked it up it looked undamaged (and there was much rejoicing) but then I turned it on. The screen was as pictured to the left: essentially, some sort of abstract painting full of black & pink blobs. My poor little Canon Powershot that served me so well for two years was completely destroyed, since there’s no way I can control any settings or look at any of the pictures I’ve taken. Sure, it still takes pictures, but since I had it on some manual settings changing the exposure and stuff, I can only take pictures in certain lights and hope they still come out. Needless to say, I was really quite upset and my wallet was even moreso the next day when I went out and bought a new one, since I can’t tramp/kayak/do a lot of other things with my big Panasonic. This one is a shock/waterproof Olympus camera (although not the newest model–too expensive and not stocked in Te Anau) that is hopefully Kristin-proofed as well (thank you James and my mother) and will make it through the rest of the trip. At least now I don’t have to worry about putting my camera in a waterproof housing…

I walked the rest of the track with Lowell and Karen and really enjoyed having company after walking the first part of the day alone. We climbed the Key Summit, which is important because it has rivers that flow to three different coasts: the east, west, and south. The views at the top were the best of the day: 360 degrees of mountain ranges and superb valleys in between them. The top of the summit was actually quite a bog with lots of boardwalks across them, and there is a very well-placed tarn right in front of all of the mountains, which made for some good pictures on my very carefully handled Panasonic. We could have stayed up there much longer than we did (about 15 mins or so) because we still made it to the car park less than an hour later and over 1 3/4 hours before our bus was to arrive. This gave us plenty of time to wash our boots and wave our hands as the sandflies came in for the kill.

The drive back from the Divide was a scenic wonderland in itself. The Divide is about 35kms from Milford Sound–the most famous fiord in Fiordland–and about 85 from Te Anau, which is the closest decent-sized town. I stared out the window in amazement at the Eglinton Valley and many other amazing glacier-created geological formations until I made myself feel quite carsick (the road is also very windy), after which I stared out of the front very intently.

So, overall, the track was an amazing experience that I would definitely repeat if I had the time/money (the huts are more expensive than most others due to the popularity of the walk)/energy. The scenery was second to nothing I have seen in New Zealand thus far (although I really feel like I say that about everything I see), as you might be able to tell from the ~130 pictures I posted in my Routeburn album. And who thought that I would be saying something like “hey, I only had to walk 33kms in 3 days” this time last year as I labored in front of the computer trying to make my operating systems project work? Certainly not me!

I did the first day of the walk with a really great couple–Sue and Trevor–that I met in the hostel the night before starting. They’re from Perth and were really helpful; they answered lots of questions about the town and now I actually know a few people that live there! We started the track together at about 9.30am. The beginning wasn’t very difficult–a bit of climbing but nothing major–and soon we were at the Routeburn Flats Hut. We ate an early lunch there while it spat with rain before continuing the climb. I was really happy that Sue and Trevor kept going, since they had planned to turn around at the Flats, because this was definitely the best part of the day’s walk. Even though it was misty, we got great views all down the Routeburn Valley, with the yellow Routeburn Flats at the base and massive green-clad mountains all around them.

Unfortunately Sue and Trevor had to turn around at Routeburn Falls Hut, since they were only doing a day walk, although this meant that they were lucky enough to only be carrying day packs. They looked a little funny walking with me and my huge pack (once again weighing in at around 40lbs because I couldn’t leave anything behind since I won’t be returning to Queenstown for a while). We started telling people I was their sherpa that they paid to carry all of their gear!

The 48 of us staying at Routeburn Falls Hut spent the rest of the night hanging out, cooking dehydrated food, watching it rain, talking, and listening to the hut warden. John was a very organized warden who had methods to describe for everything–cleaning in the morning, where to look for all of your stuff so you don’t forget it, etc. He described what keas–mountain parrots that are said to be the smartest birds in the world–can do when he told us that someone had left their raincoat outside and the next morning all that was left were five small strips of red cloth. All of us put our gear inside after that! John also set out a challenge to all of us. He had a poster on which he had collected the phrase “Welcome to Routeburn Falls. Merry Christmas.” in over 30 different languages. If any group could identify 25 of them correctly, they would win a large bar of chocolate. All of our eyes lit up when he said that, and we formed groups and got to work. My group had Lowell and Karen, a nice American couple, in it, as while as quite a few other collaborators. We managed to get 23 of the languages correct, but the hut warden still wouldn’t give us the chocolate, even after all that hard work identifying Maori, Welsh, Basque, Catalan, and other more obscure languages. Fortunately I had my own chocolate to make up for it!

I’m very fortunate to have picked the bunkroom that I did, because the other bunkroom had a man that snored so loudly we could hear him through the walls!

The next morning we woke up to a bit more sun. It was still sprinkling rain and everything was soaking wet, but it was a start! I got fantastic views of the Routeburn Valley as I worked my way up to Harris Saddle–there was even some blue sky! After working uphill for about an hour and 45 minutes (which included copious photo stops so I could get every angle of the valley and the river flowing through it), I made it to the Harris Saddle Shelter, which is pretty much a little building where trampers can hide from the weather and have a bit of a snack. Just above the saddle is Conical Hill, which stands at over 1500m tall and supposedly offers great views of multiple valleys from the top. Even though all we could see was a wall of cloud rising from the Lake Mackenzie side of the saddle, quite a few of us decided to give the climb a try. Fortunately, we could leave our packs in the shelter so it was a chance to give our shoulders and hips a rest!

The view from the top–which four of us reached after 30-35 minutes of climbing up steep rocky slopes–was as expected…that is, cloudy. Every once in a while, they would clear and we would get a glimpse of a waterfall or a lake. Everyone rushed for their cameras, but as soon as one was out, the clouds closed back in. About halfway down the mountain the clouds were clear enough that we got to see Harris Saddle and the area that we had just walked from, so it wasn’t all for nothing!

Anyway, I only have 3 minutes left on the internet, so I’ll have to continue my Routeburn story in part 2, which will probably be written tomorrow when it starts raining heavily again!

Today I went horse riding with Dart Stables in Glenorchy, which is at the very north end of Lake Wakatipu, the lake that Queenstown sits on. This area, which sits just south of Paradise, is really one of the most spectacular in New Zealand, and that’s saying quite a lot. The Dart and the Rees rivers run into the azure Lake Wakatipu and are surrounded by imposing and still slightly snowcapped mountains, one range of which was used as the Misty Mountains in LOTR. We were in the saddle for two hours, and I got a big Clydesdale named Drum(my). He was a great horse that really loved to go fast and pass other horses, but he was also rather itchy today. This meant that he rubbed up against every tree around, which were all unfortunately the bendy types, so he ended up running my right leg straight through quite a few tree trunks. There was no leg damage, which I was worried about for a time when the trees started getting bigger, but fortunately the guide decided to lead us along the river bank instead because of Drummy’s behavior!  Overall, I truly enjoyed the trip and had to spend a lot of time picking my jaw up off the floor from the spectacular scenery surrounding me!