New Zealand: Phase Four - Milford Sound and Queenstown

We enjoyed a nice little breakfast of marmalade, toast and coffee with the speccy view over Lake Te Anau. There were a number of pretty birds around singing and flashing their colours at us - some little black wrens, some silver eyes and some others that we couldn't see but had a funny song. The sky was clearing and we could just tell we were going to have a magical day.

The drive to Milford sound was truly spectacular, breathtaking and dangerous. Not dangerous in terms of conditions but dangerous because I was always craning my neck into stupid positions to see the huge mountains. I don't know if sometimes we are the luckiest people in the world sometimes, but the cloud clinging to the mountain tops, coupled with the incredibly clear and rich blue skies made me all weird. I don't want to be a Mr. Clever Pants, but the photo to the right is an excellent example of why it was so friggin dangerous for me to drive. Every corner we turned had a new view like this, a view that was capable of convincing you that the world was being born in front of you.

Coincidentally this stop was where we first spotted a Kea, although only a fleeting glimpse we could still tell it was naughty. It was flying away from a frazzled looking tourist.

The terrain we passed through was what we came to New Zealand to see, actually it was more than I could have expected. The sheer size and raw beauty was more incredible than anything I had seen, and the power of it reminded me of when we stood on the edge of the Yasur volcano in Vanuatu.

We eventually arrived at the Homer tunnel, which is to me the epitome of New Zealand in its entirety - man and nature. Here was a tunnel, literally dug through the toughest rock by the toughest men available. The tunnel inside is still as rough as it ever was, jagged protrusions skimming past in the headlights drips of water hitting the windscreen, and a darkness more black than words can describe. The headlights didn't seem to light anything up at all. We were consumed by the earth. We didn't matter a tiny bit.

Fortunately we made it through to the other end, our souls still intact. The scenery on the other side was just as spectacular and we pressed on to Milford Sound down wet, green, windy roads and across clear, blue rivers spanned by wet, narrow bridges.

The tourist area at the Sound was to be expected, so nothing to write about here. Damn, I wrote something. We had made good time so we hopped on to an earlier cruise than planned which I think was good and bad. The cruise had less people on it because it was early, but it also had three of the rudest most obnoxious families I had ever seen. I am not surprised they hung out together; they were like cancer cells on a brain. The stupid, useless and ugly mothers had claimed the entire side of the boat (some of the only window seats available). They hadn't claimed it for themselves, but for their kids by using piles of bags. The kids never sat down because they were too busy ruining every one else's time by running around screaming like dickheads. The fathers had lost their man bits to the succubi, sorry, wives long ago. What happened to the time when 'adults' were more important than 'children'? Anyway I was glad to see that some kid's bag got a good view.

Fortunately Stacey and I weren't as egocentric as those repulsive people and we, and it seemed the rest of the passengers, went on to the top of the boat to get away and appreciate the view. I understand why people travel from all over the world to visit this place. Like the drive it was spectacular, but this time the driving was left up to someone else, and I could just sit back, relax and enjoy the view. Apparently James Cook missed the entrance to this sound on his journeys. He mustn't have yelled enough.

I must write a quick aside on the vegetation in New Zealand. It is very growy. Like the New Zealanders themselves it seems to cling onto every precipice on every cliff and hold on for dear life. Even some of the sheer, rock walls in the sound seemed to mimic the densest rainforest. I therefore dedicate my new word to New Zealand as a whole. GROWY.

We left the sound and headed back to where we came from, on the way we stopped for lunch. This is where we first encountered 'biteys'. These little sand flies were to test our patience at almost every stop we made from here in. We parked the van at a beautiful lake (Lake Gunn) and I wandered off to take some quick snaps of the area. I returned to a vision of Stacey trying gallantly to make lunch all the while swatting these little shitty sand flies. The air was thick with them. We ate our lunch quickly, although the sand fly sandwiches were mighty nutritious, and drove off rather quickly. With the windows open. We stopped quickly at the Reflecting Lakes, but that was a non-event ecause they weren't very reflecty at the time.

We pushed on through to Queenstown, named after Sydney. Sorry, bad joke. We stopped briefly in a town called Garviston, I needed to get some beers and stuff. Garviston is the 'most furthest away from the ocean of all of the New Zealand towns'. It also felt the most furthest away from anything else. Nice pub though.
The drive to Queenstown became more spectacular as we went along, and eventually we started to hit snow country. Except there was no snow. Lake Wakatipu greeted us with its funny snake like shape, apparently the water level fluctuates a couple of inches every 5 minutes. Weird. I felt a strange connection to this lake because my mood fluctuates every 5 minutes. Up, down, up, down, up, down, spaz.

We drove around this lake and underneath the Remarkables (would have been called Pointy Mountain in Australia). Funny enough the Remarkables were quite remarkable. I made a few remarks as we passed, like 'wow, they're quite pointy' and 'I have a driving wedgie'. Stacey remarked on how much of a tool I am. She will probably make a remark about that remark as well.

Queenstown was pretty enough. Pretty much full of adrenaline, hormone and alcohol fuelled boys and girls in loud cars. It is situated on Lake Wakatipu and is a 'real snow town' as opposed to Jindabyne and Thredbo which are 'fake snow towns'. Jindabyne is on a fake lake and Thredbo's snow gets a 'no' from the 'Bureau of Real Snow'. Yo. However all three are filled to the brim with fake people that don't live there. Having said this the town is nice enough to look at, although a tad expensive.

We bought some groceries, got to the van park, ate some dinner and then washed some clothes in the laundromat while I drank beer and intimidated people. In the laundromat.

I showed them all who was the most grown up...

New Zealand: Phase Three - Dunedin to Te Anau

After a quick brekkie and a shower we headed off to Larnach Castle, we stopped briefly on the way and I took a snap of something that was so irresistibly English. I was looking around for a bloke in a tweed suite, a pipe and a shepherds hook. I could hear the words 'touche' and 'old chap' floating around my head as I scrambled over the road cutting with my camera.

The problem with New Zealand is the fact that every corner you turn you want to jump out with the camera and click away like an A.D.D. kid from the Ritalin generation.
We drove onto the castle up on the headland, and yes it did feel like we were stepping back in time. I wished I had brought those coconuts so I could clip-clop my way up to the castle. Having said that I would need some shiny armour and a sword. And a helmet.

The castle was more magnificent than I had expected, although it is less of a castle and more of a bloody big house. It probably shies in size compared to some of the McMansions in any new Australian subdivision, except this one was big for a reason (the bloke that made it had money, not credit), and it was tastefully decorated.

There were a number of things that impressed me with Larnach Castle, most of all was the fact that it felt like a castle. Once we were inside and away from the tourists we felt like we were in something old, even down to that strange creepy feeling old places give you. Another thing I was impressed with was the dungeon. Yes, a dungeon. Naughty Mr. Larnach.

The castle also had a methane collecting system. Human and animal poo was collected, and somehow the methane was captured - I think by lots of slaves with McDonalds straws, and somehow it was piped to a domed repository, and then piped out by foot pump throughout the house where the gas was used to light the chandeliers. I can imagine the dinner conversation: "Lady Heavemud, how could you, you filthy whore!"
"Please, I beg your pardon, 't wasn't me Your Bitchiness Madam Fontlebottom, the chandelier went out!" To which Lord Mountsheep would lift his right buttock and exclaim "Light that one up my ladies!"
Laughter would peel through the hills.
Life must have been hilarious back in those days, I wish I was there to partake. Touche.

Sadly we had to move on from the castle because the bus was coming. Besides that I was having too much fun with my new friends, so without much adieu and some tear ridden farewells on their part and calls of "fare thee well Baron jum Slurryfoot!" we made our way back to Dunedin. The Cadbury Chocolate Factory awaited.

After parking at the big fat Dunedin Gothic train station (which was mightily impressive) we wandered the long way around to the factory entrance. Once we were inside I instantly felt a flash back of the nausea and headache I gave myself as a kid when I at too much chocolate. Everything was purple, wavy, slopey, twirly, chocolatey and sweet smelling. We were like big kids in a silly world. We took the tour and got to see the world's biggest chocolate waterfall! Even I, 'Mr. Notchocolate', got excited. One tonne of chocolate was poured through this thing, 3 storeys of chocolate pouring in a big fat stream of chocolate. I wanted to dive in and swim! I resisted the urge and moseyed back down to THE CHOCOLATE SHOP!

Once we made our purchases we made a quick stop at the information place to get some information. Funny that.
We drove on towards Te Anau and passed through some underwhelming towns, however the beauty of their surrounds was luxurious. The green hills were velvety and rolling and the high, jagged peaks were beginning to break up the horizon. Upon arrival at Te Anau we were instantly impressed by the dramatic surrounds. They were more dramatic than ten episodes of Neighbours. They weren't selling beer because it was Good Friday. How can it be good if they don't sell beer? Good thing I bought enough good beer the other day. Good thing I also had some yummy ginantonic to help me along as well. In some ways I think NZ lives a few decades behind the rest of the world, and this is a good example. The other thing is, and we noticed it at a rest stop at lunch, is that they put their play grounds in the water. This is a silly practice because everyone knows that playgrounds should be put on uncompromisingly hard ground to teach kids lessons about gravity. After a brief and uneventful wander through Te Anau, we drove off to find our campsite. We pulled up at Henry Creek and I put off paying the DOC fee till the morning (same as our National Parks people) because the bus was coming.

We found our spot and wandered out to admire the sheer beauty of lake TeAnau, literally at our feet. Even if we had to go home the next day we would have been satisfied.

New Zealand: Phase Two - The Road to Dunedin

After a very nice sleep we awoke to another dandy morning, the sun was shining and everything was bright and happy. After a little muck around on the internet we ran off to board our little spaceship and hit the road. Gently.

Our Spaceship, like all Spaceships, was orange on the outside and very comfortable. It was called GPS and over the time that we were there I became quite attached to the little guy. We plugged in our little mate the Kruse, basically a tour guide that works off GPS and tells you stuff. It was very handy. Mr. Kruse says Maori funny - have a listen on the 'Experience Kruse' tab. We stopped in at Ashburton and I caught a fish just with my finger.
The terrain around the area was quite different to what I grew up with. The Canterbury plains are just that - plain. They are very flat with pointy mountains off to the east. The paddocks are separated by immense hedges made from eucalypts and pines, most of them were at least 15 metres tall. This was good to stop the wind on the paddocks, but every time you drive past one of these mammoth wind breaks your car gets blown sideways. They need some big road fans. Or lots of little fans. But then they would have to have a Minister for Road Fans and that would probably cause conflict with the Minister for Tall Hedges and the Minister for Sheep Buffeting over Industrial Deafness and Ovine Productivity.
We stopped at Timaru for lunch, and I had a serve of NZ mussels and half a club sandwich and Stacey had half a club sandwich. This is where I first caught sight of the '3 litre beer tower'. Basically the intention is for you and your mates to hire one ($22), get it filled with beer, and sit it at your table. It has its own tap and everything. I promised then and there that I would have one to myself before I died. Even if it killed me. Even if my wife killed me for being a tool.

On to Oamaru to have a look at a funny little area near the docks. Previously this area was the pits, as most dock areas usually are (Port Adelaide), hovever this was a pit with a difference. The Buildings were all made with limestone from the area, which is very easy to work with, so those people that had lots of money built some very ornate structures, but because they were near the dock their future wasn't very bright from the outset. Nowadays the area is coming along quite nicely. At least a decade ago some hippie, arty types moved in, and this influx of hairy armpits and BO always attracts alternative cafe types that have money. The area is coming along; whiskey is brewed there, people wander around looking cosmopolitan, and there is that sense of the old being loved and repaired. I will stop writing for a bit and let you peruse the gallery. Do you like that word 'peruse', it is up there with 'ponder'.
The Criterion Hotel. Note the red car on the left and the semi-hippies out the front.

This is a lane way near the dock, and it is quite close to the the hotel. I could almost imagine the activity that went on there; men wearing brown clothes and moustaches rolling barrels and shunting trains during the day, and pimps and hoes wandering the alleys at night. Yo.

Underneath the wooden boards on the ground are train tracks, probably for some sort of train that went from one end of the alley to the other. The white van is trying to be one of those trains. Choo choo choo, wooowooo!

Did I ever mention how much I hate white vans? They are up there with the Mitsubishi Nimbus and the Nissan Prarie for annoyingness.









Here is a good example of how not to advertise. First of all, don't call whatever it is 'emulsion' and second of all don't claim it as your own. Keep your emulsion to yourself you filthy bum.









After Oamaru we went on towards Dunedin. Along the way we stopped at a place that is famous for its round rocks, and it didn't take me long to see why. After this we we stopped by Shag Point for a, ahem, look around and we spotted some silly seals. We took a few pics, but by this stage we were pretty shagged and wanted to press on to Dunedin.

Upon arrival at Dunedin we embarked on our first New Zealand shopping experience, on Good Friday Eve, in the cheapest place in Dunedin - Pak n' Save. It was mildly busy. Ha! That's an understatement. It was friggin ludicrous. At one stage I had to go against the general flow and was hit by so many trolleys that I was in fear of never fathering another child, it was like the running of the bulls but worse.
We did escape the carnage - the queue was as long as the supermarket and about as fun as applying Lane's Emulsion but we got there in the end.

This was the first exciting night in little GPS and it was fun.

New Zealand: Phase One

We flew out of exciting Canberra at around 2pm on the Third of April after a day of running about, cleaning, organising, double and triple checking that everything was switched off. Even after doing this we realised two minutes down the road that I didn't put the fish cakes in the freezer. That would have been a sexy surprise upon our return.

After stuffing around in Sydney airport trying to find the right terminal we managed to get onto our flight to Christchurch. Thankfully we were flying Virgin across to NZ, because I don't think I could have coped with two and a half hours of pompous, stiff, characterless flight attendants after being stuffed around in pompous, stiff, characterless Sydney. The Virgin people were happy, funny and highly entertaining, and their funny accents were a great segue to what was going to be a fantastic two weeks in New Zealand - home of the funny accent.

After a couple of ginantonics and a good couple of hours of Mars Volta I was ready for a holiday. And my six foot four frame was ready to climb out of my little chair like a huntsman would climb out of a shower drain - all legs and crinkles.

After all of the fun and frivolity of customs and the courtesy bus we made it to our little room and into bed. Mmmmm sleep.

We awoke to an overcast day, mind you it was nice to see some clouds in the air. I asked the girl at the hotel reception what the forecast was and she said 'miserable' to which I replied 'fantastic!' She gave me the 'you are a tool' look and went back to chewing her gum. Our little room was situated just off Cathedral Square - in the centre of the oldy bit of Christchurch. Below us the touristy tram stopped, also below us was our Spacestation where we were to pick up out Spaceship for our travels around NZ. The photo below was taken from in front of the Spacestation, our room is up to the right and you can make out the tram tracks below the Kiwi Egg Cuckoo Clock. Note the lady wearing the red jumper.
We hopped on the tram for a tour of the city - essentially the centre with all of the oldy bits. Christchurch feels just like England with fantastic old Gothic revivalist architecture. The Avon river meanders through the centre of town - in fact I think this river should be used in dictionaries to describe the word 'meander'. I have never seen anything as meandery as the Avon. After taking a walk around the highlights of Christchurch according to our trusty Lonely Planet we went for a punt. A punt on the Avon, not the Christchurch Casino. Geez.

As you can see the punt was set up for a number of people, however those people were absent at the time. The punt was a great way to get into the relaxed mode necessary for a good holiday, the water was clear, the surrounds of the botanic gardens were tranquil and green and the little native black ducks (we call them Kody ducks in honour of our dog Kody) went quack.
To the left is a duck. To the right is our punt. Note the absent people.







After our relaxing little ride up and down the Avon I was completely taken with the town. So taken I started to say words like 'ye olde', 'shoppe' and 'lager'.

We said goodbye to our absent friends from the punt and wandered off to The Belgian Beer Cafe for some lunch. Beer as an accompanying beverage was a distinct possibility. I ordered a mixed plate of cold meats and pickles and a glass of Kriek (it was a beer made using cherries in some part of the process and was delicious - kind of like a beer for kids) and Stacey got a serve of very yummy chips. Our waiter was a grumpy Irish bloke.

After lunch we wandered through Christchurch on a bit more of an explore and noted a few more things. We were lucky enough to see the Wizard of Christchurch, a crazy old university lecturer that wears a wizard hat and rants strange philosophy and stories to people. People in New Zealand drive silly cars.We made it back to our little room and I wandered off to buy some beers. Beer in NZ is much cheaper than in Oz, which is fantastic. I bought 12 cans for the price of a six pack back here. After I got back we wandered off to the casino for our free drink (we were given one each with the hotel room). We didn't punt.

Dinner was Russian food at a restaurant called Red Square. It was very nice, and we supped to the sound of Madonna, which seemed strangely appropriate for a Russian restaurant, if not a bit loud for my liking. Stacey had a chicken kiev and I had some meat and rice wrapped in cabbage.

We meandered back to our little room and checked under the bed before going to sleep.