it has been a few days since the last blog, so apologies- i’ve just not been in a particularly bloggy place. after the home-from-home backpackers that was Lazy Cow we found ourselves in a far more traditional hostel (ie. massive, impersonal, torn blankets, worn swirly carpets and filthy fridges. the sheets squeaked when you got into bed- enough said!), and i just didn’t really feel like unloading my thoughts there. i know that might sound impossibly weird, but i’ve found that to sit down with the computer and open up i’ve got to feel pretty comfortable and relaxed, and i just didn’t there.
but, i realised today that its now been over a week since i’ve filled a couple of pages with what i’ve been up to, and if i leave it much longer then the next blog will be the size of ‘War and Peace’! also, we are currently stationed in a really lovely hostel, so i no longer have any excuses!
so, when i last updated we were headed to the glaciers of Franz Josef and Fox. we did indeed make it there, but it was a bloody long drive, through fairly epic weather. it was such a strange experience- the weather here is really something else. after 24 hours of solid rain in Murchison we woke up the following morning to blue skies and raised hopes. however, once we hit the road we found that it was going to be far from a sunny day- we found ourselves driving through rain storms, hail storms, at one point there was thunder, but all interspersed with blue skies. so just as you thought that the worst of the rain was over, and you opened the car window to get some fresh air and sunshine the big sky taps turned on again and you were hastily winding it back up to avoid flooding the car.
we had always planned to break the journey at a famous NZ spot on the coast called the Pancake Rocks. these are interesting rock formations in the cliffs, which due to sediment and erosion and other complicated matters, are meant to look like multiple massive piles of pancakes jutting out of the sea. i can’t really tell you much about the science behind it because i didn’t get a chance to read all of the info boards- the rain proved a bit of a distraction. when we parked up it was looking clear, but ever the pessimist, and having learned from what we had driven through all morning i chucked my waterproof on just in case and insisted that the husband took his too. we felt the first splashes as we started out on the little trail around the edges of the cliffs. within 5 minutes the rain was driving down pretty heavily, waterproof hoods were up and it was getting difficult to concentrate on the impressive formations in front of us. within 10 minutes the rain was coming in at us sideways, somehow defying all the rules of gravity and meteorology and getting in under the hoods, and the last thing we were interested in was the pancake rocks. we rushed through the rest of the trail, pushing past children and elderly couples in our haste to get over the slippery pathway and back to the warmth and protection of the car. i cast the occasional furtive glance out through the hole i had left in my waterproof mac (in an attempt to keep my face dry I had pulled in all the elastic around the hood, and must have looked a little like Kenny from South Park by the end) and in my opinion they didn’t look anything like pancakes anyway, not like scotch pancakes, not like american pancakes and not even like crepes. i’ve certainly never seen a pancake with a corner on it. if anything they looked more like slightly clumsily piled stacks of A4 paper. i may contact the NZ tourist board and suggest a name change, though whether they will go for it i’m not sure- ‘Pancake Rocks’ sounds much more charming than the ‘Piles of Paper Rocks’.
by the time we got back to the car we were totally soaked- my jeans were wet through, my hair looked like I’d just got out of the shower and my socks and shoes were squelchy (little did i know this was just good practice for the next day, but more on that shortly). after a quick change in the front seat of the steamed up car (Grover is small, and there is not much room for manoeuvre in the passenger seat, so getting out of my soaking jeans involved a pretty impressive act of contortionism), and a hastily grabbed lunch of half an apple and a melted tim tam each out of the boot (the weather did not allow us to ponder the ‘menu’ ie. the contents of our supermarket bags, for any length of time.) we headed on.
we drove through a little place that I was keen to stop at called Pukekuru, which the Lonely Planet lists as having a population of 2. there is nothing much there other than a handful of goats, a shack which sells a few tourist bits and pieces, the odd item of clothing and an awful lot of possum fur goods. they have a reputation for hating possums even more than the average kiwi, and indeed the signs, newspaper cuttings, and stuffed possums around the shack all seemed to indicate the reputation was deserved. there is also a bar opposite the shack called the Puke Pub. they serve food in an area they have dubbed ‘The Roadkill Café’. their motto is ‘You kill it, we grill it.’.
the whole place has to be taken with a big pinch of salt…. which is incidentally i think the best way to serve grilled flattened possum…
we finally arrived at Fox, home of the glacier, at the end of the day, and it stopped raining long enough for us to unload our bags and chuck them into our little room in the aforementioned slightly grotty hostel. i feel a bit mean- it can only really have been as run down as the first place we stayed in Auckland, but we had been staying in much nicer places since then, and after a whole day in the car, and the torrential apocalyptic weather we had experienced it would have been lovely to be able to sink into a sofa, kick off our shoes and relax somewhere. Ivory Towers Backpackers was perfectly serviceable as a place to sleep, but for me it was not a ‘kick off your shoes’ kinda place! nonetheless, we weren’t in Fox for a lovely relaxing time- we had much more exciting plans, and they involved hiking on the glacier. after stopping in at the company that organises these hikes, and being reassured that actually the glaciers tend to look more spectacular and more blue in the rain, we booked on a tour for the following morning. we ended the evening by heading 5 minutes down the road and taking a quick turn (in between rain showers) round the stunning Lake Matheson, snapping off a few shots of the reflections in the water, and cooking up a sturdy preparatory dinner of sausage and mash in the massive kitchen on the slightly substandard equipment and got an early night to the sound of rain once again pattering on our windows.
sure enough, the next morning dawned dull, grey and rainy, but unperturbed we headed down to the village and got ourselves kitted up for the walk in borrowed massive hobnailed boots, waterproof trousers, jackets and oversized woolly mittens. the tour was fully booked, and we were split into 2 groups of 12- our leader was a friendly Manc called Tom, who seemed as enthusiastic as we were and keen to impart his knowledge. we approached the glacier and it truly was a sight to behold. a massive shift of ice, seemingly glowing blue in its crevices, squeezed between the two cliff faces on either side and filling them almost right up to the brim, which just comes to an abrupt end in the middle of the valley leaving a solid wall gnarled and patterned but impenetrable. we hiked up the cliff face along the side of it for an hour, in the pouring rain, through the trees and native rain forest. there were steps cut into the path (800 of them) and it could have been tough going but the pace of the group was set by the slowest and it was actually pretty easy, especially after our previous climb at the St Arnaud pass. at times i found myself willing the group to move faster, especially as the rain was soon seeping into the hobnailed boots and soaking the woollen mittens, and the chill from the glacier to our right was seeping into my bones just as fast. after what seemed an interminably long time we finally reached the edge of our glacier, and attached our borrowed crampons and picked up ice sticks to help us along the way. by this point i could actually feel the water moving between my toes in my boots, and it was starting to get a little uncomfortable to put it mildly.
walking on the glacier was a little bit like moving through a giant slush puppy- the ice below was solid, but the rain water had mixed with the chips of ice that had been dug out to make a path. we were told to walk with our feet shoulder width apart, always focusing on digging the crampons into the ice with the centre of our foot. due to the driving rain our heads were down for most of the time, and i can only imagine our little group of 13 looked like a damp, shivery and slightly uncoordinated line of penguins. and walking penguins don’t look coordinated at the best of times. we reached our ‘high point’, posed for some photos, did a little loop and then swiftly headed back down the side of the glacier. it was an amazing experience, and something i am so pleased that i got the opportunity to do, but at the same time i would be lying if i said that it was an enjoyable morning. it was a joy to get to the bottom, and to be back on the tour bus out of the heaving rain, and removing my soaking boots and wringing out my freezing socks and gloves and checking i still had 10 fingers and toes was an even bigger relief. i actually came out of the experience pretty well though- the husband’s waterproof trousers had proved to be anything but, and he didn’t just have to contend with wet feet but had also had to endure soaking trousers and pants for the second half of the hike. i am sure that had it not been raining the experience would have been much more positive and involved much less chafing, but at least we did it, have the cheesy photos to prove it, and i now know what a penguin must feel like on a bad day in the arctic!
we rested up for the afternoon with the heater blasting in our little room- the walking had totally taken it out of us, and the rain only got heavier as the day progressed- and then as the sun started to slip away the skies cleared and we decided on another loop of Lake Matheson. on a clear day Mount Cook and Mount Tasman are perfectly reflected in its waters, and the husband has a painting of this which he has been trying to recreate and capture on film for a number of years. he has already visited the lake 3 times on past NZ visits, and had always been faced with clouds, rain or wind that have made the reflection a lot less than perfect. strangely, though we had been struggling with clouds, rain and winds in the day time the evenings were much calmer, and on our second visit we got some great shots. we decided to reward the strenuous efforts of our day with dinner at the big local bar-come-restaurant in Fox, a place called Saddle Creek. the menu was anything but sophisticated but a glass of house red and my massive plate of slow braised sticky pork ribs (they were as long as my arm!) and chips was just what the doctor ordered, and filled me up sufficiently that I could even fall asleep on the squeaky sheets!
we happily checked out in the morning, did one last hasty loop of Lake Matheson which by this point we knew pretty well and hopefully got the final perfect shot, and then headed on our way. the weather seemed much clearer, and we drove through without incident to Haast. we had a little walk down to a penguin colony recommended to us by Jim, but we were passing through at the wrong time of day so didn’t hold out much hope of seeing anything. as we had suspected, the mama and papa penguins were all out fishing and the baby penguins were hidden away in nests in the scrub at the side of the beach, so all we really encountered were a load of sandflies. it did however break up the drive, which was a grand thing because i had taken the wheel that morning, and after several hours i was pretty tired and needing to concentrate on something straight forward like putting one foot in front of the other, and looking for small black and white birds rather than the lines in the middle of the road, the speedometer and the other cars driving up my backside.
we drove on to Wanaka, a stunning little town on the edge of a massive lake, which is a popular ski resort in the winter months. there was still snow on the tips of the mountains behind the lake when we arrived, but the sun was shining brightly and it felt very much like summer was on the way. we checked into a delightful backpackers on the hill overlooking the town and the lake, and almost instantly decided to extend our stay from the 2 nights we had booked, in order to give our weary bodies and minds a rest from the constant motion. we ended up settling for 4 nights instead, and along with spending a day horse riding, a day exploring an old Chinese mining settlement in the nearby Arrowtown and a day hiking we also got the chance to do some more mundane things like laundry and going to the cinema, and stocking up at the supermarket, which is a nice and necessary way to create a sense of normalcy when you are away travelling for long periods of time.
the horse trek was really fun- we had stunning scenery riding through the valleys and over the hills in the Cardrona region, and our horses were gorgeous and responsive Apaloosa’s. i was mildly nervous as we set off- i was introduced to my horse as Benji which sounded like a nice friendly name, but as the ride led out of the stables the owner corrected me and said “No, its Banshee, as in wailing angry ghost. And he farts loudly when he is nervous, and jumps around a little bit.”. this didn’t inspire the most confidence in me (even though I can sympathise with the loud farting), but he turned out to be a real gent of a horse, and he only let out one little guff and did a couple of spooks the whole ride, so i can assume he was as comfortable with me as i was with him. the lady leading knew i had some past experience, and the other 3 on the ride (including husband) were relatively novice and nervous, so she let me hold my horse back whenever i wanted and the ground permitted and have some good long canters on my own. it was really exhilarating to be back in the saddle again- i always forget how much I love it- and to be speeding solo round the empty mountain ranges, splashing through little streams and up over the brow of hills to find slightly bemused looking sheep staring at me, with the sun beating down on my back and the wind in my face was just breathtaking. i would be lying if i said that i didn’t have the dramatic Lord of the Rings soundtrack music playing in my head at those moments!
unfortunately, even with the western saddles that we were riding in which are generally much more comfortable than european styles, my bum and legs really felt the strain the next day. and the next day we had another glacier hike scheduled. thankfully, this one was much tamer than the Fox- just a 3-4 trek up a mountain side to view the Rob Roy glacier from the adjacent cliff side, so no crampons were required. and the weather was still playing ball for us, so we had gorgeous sunshine and clear blue skies all the way, and shorts and t-shirt were the order of the day rather than hobnailed boots and full waterproofs. nevertheless my aching bum muscles did mean we took the walk at a very leisurely pace, and had a long stop at the top for our (now requisite) mountain top lunch of corned beef and cheese slice sandwiches. the view from the top of the track was immense, and with the sun beating down on the glacier it looked indescribably beautiful. i’m not sure if it would have looked more blue if it had been raining, but i’m happy not to know! we saw several little avalanches whilst we sat eating our lunch and admiring the backdrop, which made the sheer size of the glacier come into sudden focus. what looks like a relatively small amount of snow shift on the glacier face, is in actual fact a huge amount, and the echoing sound of its mass crashing down the hillside and reverberating around the mountains is a shocking reminder as to the size of the glacier itself.
on Monday morning we left Wanaka, slightly reluctant but ready to be roving again, and got on the road to Queenstown. it is only an hour or so between the two towns, so we got to spend most of the day in New Zealand’s busiest tourist city. and i have to say, i quite liked it! Queenstown is a ski-destination during the winter months, but during the summer the clientele seem to remain much the same- buff and beautiful young 20-somethings looking for fun, frolics and thrills (whether they be gained on the piste, or at the end of a bungee cord or parachute it amounts to much the same). we may not exactly fit the stereotype, but the joie de vivre and happy-go-lucky vibe of the place is difficult to resist.
we started with a lovely glass of wine on the waterfront by the wharf, enjoying the sunshine and soaking up the chilled out atmosphere of the city. we proceeded to have a little trot round town to orientate ourselves and scope out possible restaurants for dinner. i even managed to drag the husband into a shop with a big ‘sale’ sign out front, and we added to his slightly meagre wardrobe by snapping up a bargainous pair of Rip Curl shorts for him. after the husband couldn’t face any more shopping (which wasn’t very long!) we headed up the hill to one of Queenstown’s most iconic tourist hot spots- the Luge. we caught a leisurely cable car up the mountain side, seemingly narrowly missing a bungee jumper on his rather more swift descent, and marvelled at the views of the city from the top. the queenstown luge has been in place since the 80’s and is enormous fun. i was a little worried that my luge driving would be as slow as my Grover driving, but it turns out i’m a little more brave when only a few centimetres from the ground wearing a cycling helmet and on 3 wheels, and i even beat the husband on the first lap down. after we got back down the mountain the husband retired to the backpackers to get over the luge excitement, and i took another turn around the shops (i couldn’t resist a bit more window shopping when the opportunity presented itself, but was very well behaved and came back with only half a pint of milk and a bottle of coke!).
after a quick scrub up, we headed out for a night on the town, me with fire in my belly and a craving for a party… and possibly jaeger bombs. and if you want jaeger bombs, Queenstown is the place to be! the kindly hostel manager had pointed us in the direction of some very good 2-4-1 deals, and we spent a lovely evening bar hopping round wood-clad, fire-pitted venues that would have been just as appropriate in Austrian mountain ranges, sharing a massive pizza and garlic bread, playing pool (it appears i’ve got even worse at this over the years, if possible!), drinking cocktails out of teapots and generally living the après-ski lifestyle to the full, only without the pre-ski! we even drank enough beers and jaeger in one bar to get the husband a free t-shirt, meaning he gained a whole new outfit in a day- i think i’m more excited about the additions to his wardrobe than he is, but then he doesn’t see anything wrong with wearing the same t-shirt 5 days in a row so it’s hardly surprising! as the clock struck one we swayed our way back to the hostel- it had started drizzling lightly, but for the first time on this trip i wasn’t the slightest bit bothered by the rain!
with slightly thumping heads we checked out of our hostel and Queenstown. i would have loved to have stayed longer in this most charming of cities- there were so many more lovely looking restaurants and bars that demanded my attention- but I suspect both my liver and my bank balance would not have appreciated much more time there. we spent the day today driving through more spectacular countryside to get to our latest destination, Lake Te Anau. we stopped en route for a picnic lunch at the Mavora lakes, a place that the husband remembers fondly from a previous visit, but unfortunately the reality didn’t quite live up to the picture of serenity and remoteness that his memory painted. the Labour day weekend is just finishing here today, a national holiday, so there were numerous people who had been camping at the lakes over the long weekend, all packing up and driving home as we arrived. every 10 minutes or so a 4x4 would roar down the narrow gravel track, kicking up dust and disturbing the quiet, and once again we found ourselves battling with tiny sandflies desperate to gnaw on our flesh! so we had a tasty yet hasty lunch and kept on our way, but it actually worked out to our benefit to push on through. the YHA hostel we checked into on arrival at Te Anau has a total oasis of a garden out the back, sheltered from the wind and with benches and chairs in the sunshine. I spent a most lovely few hours luxuriating in the afternoon rays with a cup of tea and my latest book (I’m finally joining the club and reading the Steig Larsson books, and actually finding ‘The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo’ quite hard to put down!)- there may have been no Mavora Lake in front of me, but i was pretty bloody serene.
and that rather epic addition to the blog collection, brings us smack up to date. tomorrow we are leaving Te Anau for the afternoon and night, to do a Milford Sound overnight cruise. everyone who has been to Milford speaks in hushed tones of its beauty, and i’m very much looking forward to experiencing it for myself. i’ll try not to leave it so long between blogs next time, if for no other reason than our time in New Zealand is now in its final furlong, and if i’m not careful i’ll spend the entire last few days missing the scenery because my nose is in the laptop in an attempt to catch up with myself before we jump to a different country.
so farewell for now from Te Anau.
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