Coming Into Sydney

I left New Zealand alone as I’d booked my own flights, stopping over in Wellington. It was sort of weird to be flying into a city I already felt like I knew, kind of like coming home and yet not at all the same. Coming into Sydney, on the other hand, felt like coming into Los Angeles. Beaches, water, surf, and city as far as the eye could see. Compared with New Zealand cities, which are generally smaller than 400,000, a city of 4.5 million was particularly sprawling. I was supposed to arrive 10 minutes after the rest of the group and was a bit worried about customs because I had no return ticket for leaving Australia, but customs was a breeze. Still, there was nobody there when I arrived. I worried a little then checked their flight and saw they were delayed and not due for another 20 minutes. About an hour later, they were peeling out of the gate and PC2 was rejoined, ready for Australian adventures.

We were supposed to take a Harley tour through Sydney to our hostel, but as is our custom when arriving in a new country, it was rainy and unpleasant outside, so we simply went straight to our new home in Manly. And what a home it was. Basically a bunch of condos with shared facilities, right on Manly beach, it was easily the best accommodation we’ve had to date. It was already dinner time, so I went out with Katie, Brad, Chris, Chelsea, and Lauren to a pretty decent Thai place by the wharf, walking along the strip crossing the peninsula. Then we grabbed some groceries for the group and hung out in our little nest for the evening. Another pleasant note about Australia, or at least Sydney, was that in that little walk we saw more pretty girls than in all our time in New Zealand combined.

The next day was still rainy – and Australia is supposedly in a drought. Still, it was warm enough and scattered enough that we went to the beach for a while and played in some of the biggest waves I’ve ever seen, trying to body surf. Brad and I also found an internet café that easily beat any café we’d used up to this point. It was lightning fast, so much so that I ran out of photos I’d already captioned. We went back to the hostel to get on our bikes for the evening tour, and wouldn’t you know it, as I made my way back to the hostel the rain began. It drizzled initially but within 10 minutes of getting back, it was pouring. Still, danger or not, we were taking the Harley tour, so we loaded on our waterproof gear and hit the road. Thankfully, not literally. The tour was kind of interesting as it was in the rain, but otherwise we definitely missed out. We didn’t go into Sydney and so just toured the suburb of Manly and its various homes and freeways. Still, it was fun, but it would’ve been cool to roar across the Harbour Bridge. We stayed at home again tonight, and wound up watching the Academy Awards, which were actually pretty decent this year.

Finally, our third day in Sydney, and we were off to see the city itself. We took a ferry in the morning and checked out the opera house. Which isn’t white and painted at all, but is actually a mosaic tile that looks more yellowed unless reflecting the sun. It was surreal to be at the foot of this very foreign monument on the other side of the earth. We broke off into groups and Chris, Brad, and myself ventured around the city. We strolled through the botanical gardens seeking other views of the opera house and harbour bridge then made our way to The Rocks, an old quarter of Sydney. Though we well overshot it, stopping for lunch in the busy office district before finding ourselves at the end of Pitt St. in Chinatown. We supposedly had a pass for any transit, so we went to take the monorail back into town only to be scolded by a very angry tub when we asked her if our pass also worked for the monorail. I thanked her for being so polite, wished her a pleasant day, and we walked up to George St. to catch a bus back.

We looked around the Rocks, which weren’t all that incredible and stopped for a beer before heading to the middle of the Harbour Bridge. Brad had to get to class with his ignorant cultural professor (q: Why do we see more Canadians abroad than Americans? A: Because their country sucks.). Yup, she’s the one responsible for opening their eyes and minds to other cultures. Luckily, her students are more enlightened than she is. Anyway, Brad went back for more of that fun with her and Chris and I continued across the bridge to check out Luna Park. Which was closed but we were able to peek around because there was a wedding there. We found our way back and met up with Brad before deciding to head into Chinatown for dinner. But we hopped on the wrong bus and it took us across the harbour bridge and another into some suburb.

We debated exploring the suburb for decent and hopefully cheaper food and then some locals recommended we stroll along Darling St. to some decent restaurants. We wound up having Japanese food instead, walking about 8 blocks extra to bring our own wine in from a not-so-nearby shop. Dinner was good and reasonable and we’d certainly had an adventure to find it. This also marked the beginning of the Canadian drinking game. See, it’s considered rude to not lift a glass and drink when someone toasts, so basically you just take turns coming up with a lot of cheers. Pretty simply but potentially lethal. We got back into town and were making our way to the ferry when we passed these Scottish girls that started talking with us. We still had some time before the last ferry so we stopped and had a beer with them before escaping home, mostly unscathed. The ferry ride back was nice at night, Syndey has a beautiful skyline. We said goodbye to that skyline early the next morning, venturing to the Blue Mountains and a small Scouts’ hall near Katoomba where we would spend the next couple nights.

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Old Zealand

We were back in Christchurch again to catch our flights to Sydney, Australia, which was met with a mix of excitement and sadness since it’s hard to leave a beautiful and amazing place like New Zealand. Still, more adventure ahead and I am certainly more excited than sad. I called up Mike again since we were in town on the weekend and we met up at the hostel after my first shower in ages (I bought a new towel!), dinner, and who knows what else. We went out with Katie, Meridith, and us boys and had a good time but were all fairly tired. We started at Sullivan’s, which had some pretty decent live music actually. Then Mike took us to a place called Concrete which was quiet but a pretty cool underground club. We (by which I mean Anthony and Mer) did a little dancing and hung around a bit before wandering into a place I’d spotted walking that was in an alley and also underground, somewhere along Hereford St. It was likewise slow but cool and we hung out a bit until I wasn’t the only one tired and then got some BK before calling it a night. The next day, though, Mike was taking us on another sojourn into the NZ countryside – a French town called Akaroa(?).

I got up at 9:30, just in time to grab the hostel’s continental breakfast, shower, and caption some photos. Mike offered to let me use the net at his house so I wanted to upload as many photos as I could there. This was our last full day in New Zealand too, and I had to print off my itinerary and e-ticket for my flight among other errands. But that was later. He met us and we left the hostel around noon, stopping for petrol as they call it and some groceries for the trip. Which, itself, took about 40 mins through some very nice scenery. Rolling hills and all the stuff I would be missing from New Zealand very soon. The town itself clearly had some French history but was pretty well English by now, so it was more of a novelty, but it still had some pretty sections. There is a restaurant there called C’est la Vie that’s meant to be quite famous and we were hoping to have lunch there before heading back. When we finally found the place, not knowing its name, location, or anything other than the fact that patrons write all over the walls about their experience, we were understandably disappointed to find it was closed for lunch and all booked for dinner.

I tried in horrible French to ask the chef who we could hear and see working away at prep what time they opened for dinner, and he came to the door and spoke in English to me. Whew. Embarrassingly, he’s not actually French (I’d been told they were, but maybe his wife was) but German, and I tried to secure us a spot at dinner. At best he had my number and put us down for a phone call should anyone cancel and recommended another place we might want to grab dinner (Ma Maison) in case we couldn’t get a spot. Our reservation was for 5:45 at Ma Maison and we were supposed to have heard whether a spot had opened up by 5, so that left us some time. More time than we realized, because my watch was lacking a setting for New Zealand time and the time had been an hour ahead on my watch since arriving and I forgot this when quoting the time to the others. We strolled around the town and took some silly photos, warmed up in the car and got some rest, drove around to nearby outlooks and gravel roads and driveways, went to hilltop parks of unusual quality, and basically killed time until dinner. It was a lot of fun despite having no driving purpose or deeper meaning.

We drove back into town a little before 5:00 and discovered that the placard outside which had so coldly proclaimed the restaurant full for the night now had a seating time and phone number to call. I talked to the lady inside and they had just had some cancellations (apparently the cook hadn’t felt it worthwhile to call us) and so we got a table booked. We cancelled our reservations at Ma Maison then came back for dinner. I had a nice steak topped with spinach and blue cheese and marinated in some other sauce as well. Quite delicious and definitely worth the wait. The only way to get a better steak here would be to fly in my dad. Which could be difficult given my ever-dwindling funds, but I digress. Mike also had the steak, and Chris and Brad had the venison, which was also great (but not as good as my steak). We all felt the meal was terrific and worth any waiting that we had to do.

We drove back into town and stopped at Mike’s house for me to use the internet. It turned out he had some episodes of Family Guy I hadn’t seen so he copied me a DVD (which I just realized I forgot to pay him for!) and we watched a hilarious episode while I did my internet things. Then back to the hostel and the boys went out, tired or not, and hit the town running with what is probably the cheapest wine we’ll ever buy ($4-$5 NZ bottles). We went all over and got a little more zany as the night went on, and boy did it go on. We were at the Holy Grail for a while, we went to some place on the strip, and who knows where else before Brad and Chris went for BK and Mike and I took off to the casino. As is my fashion, I did well at the start off my last $5 and then lost it all, but it was fun even if late. I got back to the hostel at 6AM, just in time to get two hours sleep before an 8AM meeting.

We had our meeting about Sydney and what was in store for our big move to Australia, cleaned out the vans, and got packed. My flight was different than the others so I went to the airport early with Katie and got myself sorted. Now I’m sitting here waiting in the Sydney airport for the rest of the group to arrive (I was supposed to arrive 10 mins after them but our plane made good time), and I’m very eager to get out of my sweaty clothes and into our condos, which I hear are good, and of course the Sydney rain and humidity. We got some nice views of downtown from the plane too, and it was exciting to see those oh-so-remote monuments like the Opera building or the Harbour Bridge just sitting there waiting. Now, speaking of waiting, I’m going to go back to it. Next time, Sydney. All it’s cracked up to be or more?

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Sweet Franzy Joseph

It was a six-hour stint from Wanaka to Franz Joseph, home of the Franz Joseph glacier, ice climbing. We stopped midway for lunch at a salmon farm and had some salmon related luncheon paninis and such before arriving in Franz. When we got there we stopped by the activity centre to book our ice climbing and other options for those not interested. Unfortunately, there was only one spot left. I offered mine (quite reluctantly to be honest about it) to Lauren2 since she is a climber and though I had been looking forward to it since I heard about it she probably wanted to do it more. But there were others who also wanted to and she was also reluctant to accept, so we did a draw for the spot. Well, I won but felt pretty bad about it. Still, I suppose it was fair and in any case I was going ice climbing the next day.

The other Lauren swung by and invited us boys to happy hour at a nearby pub and so we went along and had some drinks with them. And then went elsewhere and grabbed some appetizers and dinner and, yes, more drinks. I went home a bit earlier with Lauren and Chelsea because I had to be ready for ice climbing at 7:45 and was in bed by 11:00, though I watched the last episode of the Office I’d downloaded before bed (Dwight and Oscar return). Chris came back towards the end and we watched one more episode, so I suppose I was asleep by midnight. In any case, I don’t know if I was nervous about sleeping in, ice climbing itself, or the room was hot and poorly ventilated (probably all of the above) but I got no sleep. Every hour or two I was up and debating going back to sleep or not, even though I’d eventually look at the clock and it would only be, say, 3 AM.

I got up to do some ice climbing on time regardless and hurriedly threw breakfast and lunch (bread and jam) into a container and walked over to the activity centre. We packed up our stuff, though I forgot to grab a rain jacket because I had the wrong-sized boots, and drove to the glacier. It was about 3 km to the glacier through rain forest and along the glacial stream all, I stress, in glorified ski boots. Not comfortable. Well, maybe they were a ski/snowboard hybrid but my point remains. We got to the base which I discovered had a staircase carved into it. Not my idea of ice climbing, I joked to myself. Not that the group was not friendly, they were all Scottish and quite nice, but I wasn’t up for being the outgoing one at that point. Remember I’d had no sleep, and anyone who knows anything about me knows that early mornings and bad sleeps are a bad mix.

We hiked another km up and into the glacier, arriving finally at our base where we’d do our climbing and set up. All said, we did 5 climbs, the last of which was actually greater than 90 degrees of slope. It was a lot of fun, though I think I like rock climbing better, and pretty demanding. I did the whole thing without ever falling though there was at least once where I was dangling by a single ice pick. It was a definite workout, however, and by the time we finished climbing, hiked back down the glacier and found ourselves at the van I was definitely beat. Still, we stopped by a pub on the way and I bought a drink for the guide that gave me his rainjacket and one of the guys on the trip that owns a pizzeria in Glasgow bought us all some pizza to munch on. All in all, I had a great time with these guys.

I didn’t bother with dinner back at the hostel because I pretty much crashed right through it. That is, after I cleaned up the sprinkled hearts and fake love letter off my bed and had a good laugh. Brad’s mom had sent him some valentine’s day stuff which I instantly recognized, so they didn’t actually fool me, but it was hilarious for all involved. I did wake up later (or else this particular blog post would have a lot more zzzzzzz’s) feeling refreshed and took a sauna with a few of the others which only helped more. That night the plan was a Lord of the Rings marathon which I definitely didn’t have the stamina for, but it was fun to sit in the TV room with everyone watching the first movie. Quite a few of them stayed up for the second (maybe half left) including Kate, Anthony, Brad, Chris, Dustin, and myself. Only Anthony attempted the third movie, though even he was unable to survive all those endings.

The next morning we left Franz Joseph behind and made our way up the coast to Arthur’s Pass, which brought us back into Christchurch once more. This was our last trip in the vans and we all were feeling a little sentimental. We stopped for lunch en route at a small coastal town and Norm, Chris, Brad, and myself grabbed some meat pies and sat on a really strange beach with all sorts of weird wooden sculptures and debris strewn about. We stopped again in Arthur’s Pass and got some of the best ice cream I’ve ever had from the same place that we’d stopped with Mike coming through with Chris, Simon, and myself a few weeks ago. Excellent choc-o-mint and caramel ice cream. And, something that has been somewhat lacking in my mind, we stopped again about 40 km past the town at a cave stream and wandered through it from one end to another. It was unguided and really quite a cool thing to do to break up the trip – I don’t imagine there’s anywhere else in the world where they’d just let you wander into a cave stream that could easily flood you out without waivers and ropes and so on. It was really only Brad, Chris, and myself that wanted to do it. I think Katie was on the fence because it was drizzling and cold, but we managed to get most of the people reluctantly on board. Well worth the stop and I hope this is the start of more off-the-beaten-path activities. We drove on and Norm passed Katie in Christchurch which meant I got to navigate us back to the YMCA, where we would spend our last two days in New Zealand before departing for Australia.

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Wanaka Binnaca

We rejoin our heroes in Wanaka, a small town about an hour north of Queenstown where skiing, biking, canyoning, trailing, and lake activities reign supreme. After the work of the Routeburn, this little oasis on the lake was a breath of fresh air (hence the title). En route we took a really steep road, were hitting the E on our gas gauge, and running the heat because the engine temperature was getting dangerously high. All part of the adventure I suppose. We got here late because we’d been out to luge in Queenstown which hadn’t been in the itinerary, and ran to the grocery store to get dinner and some wine. Brad, Chris, and I decided to do a boxed-wine night and we came back, had a chicken salad dinner which was actually pretty darned good, and then played charades in the hostel’s grass. I was on a team with Katie, Lauren C, Chelsea, and Brad and we did pretty well I thought. Chris, who was on the other team, was very far along through his wine and definitely feeling it. Roaring drunk and hilarious as heck. We got asked to be quieter and/or move the game inside and decided that it was bed time, so we had Chris drink some water and all retired… until I was awakened at 3 AM by a strange sound and screaming.

Well, okay, no screaming. But it sounded like water falling. And then Amy asked, “What the #$# is that?” in a tired and annoyed voice and then chunks began hitting the liquid and she realized about a second before me that Chris was pouring out wine and salad or, as Norm would put it, calling for Ruth. Him being on the top bunk, this was particularly troublesome for Brad below him, though Brad slept through it. Amy tried to get Chris to use the bowl, but alas. It was too late. The room instantly stunk, and more rancid than anything I have ever experienced – and I’ve worked in a bar. It was gagging us all and Meridith and Amy fled to other rooms. I woke up Brad because his face was maybe 20 cm from a puddle of vomit on his mattress and his hand just as close. Brad was suitably thankful. I had no choice but to sleep in the room so I did my best to clean up without getting touching or inhaling or in any way looking at it. In other words I used a ladle and looked the other way and then threw a sheet on it, opened the windows, and hoped the smell would be trapped.

The next morning came all too soon although it was nice to get out of that room. Chris had no idea he’d thrown up at all and didn’t have the hangover he so deserved. I guess because it all wound up on the floor. He had more cleaning and a tongue-lashing from the hostel owner, though and apologized profusely to all. We left early for some mountain biking which was essentially a long drive up the mountain and then coasting down some really dusty and loose dust. I picked the ghetto bike which would drop the chain if I even thought about changing gears. Luckily it was mostly downhill, so this wasn’t an issue. The view was nice, the guides were terrific, but the trail needed a rain badly. I did enjoy myself quite a bit, however, and definitely have to give Dan and Paul a hearty recommend. By next year they’re going to have a bunch of new trails open and it should be a biker’s dream here in Wanaka.

Afterwards, Brad, Chris, and I went for lunch and forced Brad to choose the venue. In the end it was gyros and we sat on a bench overlooking the lake and ate. Then we sat on the beach with some of the others, went for a swim, and Brad everyone dispersed when Katie left to take the students to class. I spent some long-overdue internet time, then I came back and grabbed dinner with the group at Speight’s – which had pretty decent prices for the portions they were serving – and we all had some drinks while we waited for tables. We finally had dinner (which was great but really filling) and then back to the hostel. We talked about doing a Routeburn commercial as though it were some sort of disease before heading out for a midnight swim. As the swim went on and the ranks faded, some of the remaining people decided on a skinnydip in the cool night before going home and to bed.

The next day was a free day which meant I slept in until almost 9:00. I guess I’m on an early-wakeup schedule. I had wanted to go canyoning, but it’s really overpriced here. So I spent some more time getting caught up on the journal/blog and talking with Norm about a nearby canyon. He found out it was only 20 minutes away and as most of the others had gone to the beach and I was interested in spending some time in a canyon anyway, he took Anthony and myself to check it out for Dave. And it was a definite find. We’d gotten there because Norm had made friends with Lisa, the head waitress from the night prior, and she’d told him about the spot. So it was pretty much a bunch of locals and us. I took the first turn jumping from the cliffs into the canyon and then Anthony followed and then Norm. The jumps were maybe 7-9 metres high and refreshing on such a hot day. Anthony and I made our way up the canyon, crawling through caves, and finally getting to a point where we had to stop going up the canyon. Then we turned around and made our way back, sometimes crawling on our hands, sometimes just flowing in the current, and in one case, I tried to stop myself but slowly lost my grip and went over a small fall, the water took me back-first into a boulder which didn’t hurt me more than a bruise but sadly scratched the heck out of my watch face. Hopefully I can get it fixed.

We came back to the hostel after a few more jumps and had a group meeting where we talked about things bothering us, positive comments, and then highlights. Aw, and don’t we all feel better. It was sort of neat though, because it reminded us of all the cool things we’ve done. It’s easy to lose perspective sometimes. Then, after the meeting, about 10 of us went mountain biking again, but this time in the forest. Dan and Paul took us out of the goodness of their hearts and it was really cool of them. We only paid $25 and got a great deal, mountain biking through the trees and in some really cool trails was amazing. Plus, there was up and down hill and it was a terrific workout. After the bike, we went to the beach as the sun disappeared behind a mountain, and Paul came by and took us in threes on his catamaran. I went with Chris and Kate and we actually got some good speed up not to mention a full float out of the water. We also jumped off of the pier before heading back.

Dinner was waiting for us, and it was a baked potato bar and delicious dessert. We sat around in the kitchen afterwards, Norm was showing us Cirque du Soleil things, Chris got a heart shaved in his head, I did a couple slideshows, girls pierced each others ears (we’re expecting complaining and infections any time now), and we hung around and enjoyed ourselves. We met some Sydney guys and I chatted with a girl from Holland, and then we called it a night. After all, I’m supposed to be making French Toast for breakfast tomorrow so I have to wake up extra early. Coming up next, Franz Josef glacier and some ice climbing adventure.

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Feel the Routeburn

Queenstown faded in the rearview mirror as we set off for what was to be the most arduous part of our journey: a 3-day trek through the Alps. Backpacks loaded, we stopped in Te Anau for food and gas before leaving civilization almost for good. Our group had divided into two, with us starting at the Divide and the others at the Routeburn Shelter. Our group would start with a cruise through Milford Sound while the other would conclude with it. We made it just in time, stopping only to wait for a one-way tunnel through a mountain to give us the green light and nearly have Katie P’s sandal stolen by a roving Kia bird. They really like rubber and will pick apart cars if allowed to – they were particularly interested in my rubberized camera strap and would cautiously hop around me. And then a place listed as one of the ten most beautiful places in the world (according to Anthony): Milford Sound.

The cruise took place on a cloudy day and it didn’t quite live up to such lofty claims but it probably could. The slopes are covered in Rata trees that flower a brilliant red and on a sunny day at a different time of year the fjords and waterfalls would’ve been amazing. It was still quite pretty and we got to see seals lying on the rocks for warmth, Post Office Island, a little island where passing ships would drop mail to this remote area, and some very nice waterfalls not to mention the fjords themselves. The tea provided was itself memorable in that it needed more sugar than tea to make it palatable. Then we camped out on Lake Dunn, with some of the girls playing cards while Anthony and I played around with long exposures and using the headlamp to spell out things. Albrie, Anthony, and I played some cards. I have to say that Albrie is always upbeat, smiley, and this is very nice especially in a group that seems to mostly be grumpy.

The next morning I was up at 8:30 and besides Norm, Albrie, and myself, we had the morning to ourselves until 10:00 when Norm finally woke everyone. We didn’t get out of there for some time after, and Kristen was particularly annoyed they were in the van while Anthony and I cleaned up the table after everyone – we didn’t realize they’d loaded up. Regardless, we hopped in the van and then Anthony and I waited for the group for about 20 mins before setting off. The two of us just took off at our own pace because the girls seemed pretty grumpy and it was wrecking what was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the rainforest was alive with sound, and besides which I like to stop for photos and take side excursions off the trail which I have more time for if I walk ahead. We caught sight of an endangered bird and spent about a half hour trying to get a photo of it. It was hard in the trees because I couldn’t manually focus quickly enough and auto focus seemed to choose the surrounding branches over the bird.

The forest was really great and we found a log that looked like the log they hide under in LOTR and made our way up the steep trail. We got past the top and came upon Earland Falls, which was absolutely amazing. A big and high fall that was bearable because it broke on a rock about 100 ft. above us, which also spread the water along a rock ledge. The sun was at just the right spot in the sky to cast rainbows all over the falls and Anthony and I took a bunch of photos and had already been in and out of the falls when the rest of the group arrived. The waterfall seemed to buoy (pronounced like boy as in buoyancy, crazy Americans!) their spirits and we all hung around and had a snack before leaving this magical waterfall.

We made it to our camp just before 6:00, over at Mackenzie Hut. We went down to Lake Mackenzie which was pretty nice but suffering from Didymo and extreme cold and took a quick dip before having our pasta for dinner. We met with the other group here and it was sort of unusual to be back together with our different experiences. It seemed like everyone was kind of in an unusual state and there was some awkwardness. Brad, Chris, Anthony, Amanda, and myself looked at the stars on the lake and tried to get some photos but to no avail.

We set off early the following dawn, and after a little more head-butting with Kristen, went on our way for our longest hike – about 13 km with packs loaded and so on. We stopped for lunch at Harris Saddle, a small ridge between two peaks, and Anthony and I made our baguette with pepperoni, salami, tuna spread (mostly for moisture), olives, and chive and garlic cheese. This relieved us of quite a bit of weight and was the envy of most of the others I think, though we did share with everyone that wanted some. Then, off again. While the first day’s hike was mostly forested and shielded and thus cool, this hike was alpine, above the treeline, and we were quite subject to sun. We traversed a couple mountains, slowly descending and came upon an alpine lake which was pretty amazing. It feeds the Routeburn falls, which was to be our next meeting point with the rest of the group. As we made our way down, getting warmer, I was aching for a swim in one of these nice little streams we kept crossing. We did refill our water but Anthony was in need of a washroom so we pressed on.

Finally, we reached the top of the falls for which the Routeburn is named. There were quite a few pools breaking its fall and I told Anthony he could go ahead as I wanted a dip more than almost anything at this point. Remember we’d been walking for three hours with big packs in almost 30 degree weather. He didn’t want to miss out on the waterfall though and I had found a pool that was deep enough to jump into from the cliff above, though Anthony was skeptical. I put my canyoning skills to good use and showed him how it was done before he took a jump. It was cold as heck but really, really refreshing. I went from hot and tired to instantly energized. And it was a lot of the fun. Since we’d found this pool off the track a little ways (like I said, a good reason to walk faster) the rest of the group almost walked by us before I called them over. Everyone except Albrie (who I think is hydrophobic perhaps) took a jump after some coaxing and from that point on we were all in good spirits. We went down to the Routeburn Falls hut and hung around with the beautiful view before continuing down to our camp. After some cards, more pasta, and a nice long chat/massage circle on a small deck by the camp kitchen, we went to sleep and the Routeburn was almost over.

We awoke with a a 2.5 hour hike out to where the van was parked and we made good time getting there. I dropped my bed roll and had to go back about 15 mins to grab it from Norm and still managed to finish about 10 minutes ahead of the group. We had completed the Routeburn and all felt very accomplished. We loaded the van and took a picture by the sign with my dying camera, which snapped one photo and then died on timer for the second. Then, off to Queenstown for a Fergburger, a well-earned shower, and a meeting with PC4. A bunch of us went on the louge again, taking on PC4. Dave and I were neck-in-neck at one point passing a slow girl that wasn’t with us. We were coming up on a tunnel and the road narrowed and I was inching ahead and trying to squeeze in, thinking he’d relent. I was forced onto the bank and bounced down hitting Dave’s luge and toppling us both. Dustin, Katie, and Brad all came within inches of running me down as I tried to pick up my fallen cart and Dave did the same downhill from me. We got to the bottom and I was relatively unscathed but Dave had scraped his leg and arm well enough to have them both bleeding. The man is intense and I think I’d have loved to be on his tour, though I felt horrible about my half of his damage. Especially as I’d convinced him to buy us five luge rides and we’d pay our gondola fair when we were at the bottom. But we both survived and he was completely non-plussed by the whole thing, and we laughed about it later before our group took off for our next destination: Wanaka. Via, if I may mention, a road that is really windy, steep, narrow, and doesn’t allow trailered vehicles such as ours on it.

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The King of Queenstown

We arrived before Katie and the blue van by almost an hour, so Norm and I checked in and got everyone set up. I managed to finagle a room for just Chris, Brad, and myself, though Norm would soon join us the next day. I made some nachos and garlic bread for lunch and then Chris and I took a stroll into town to check it out and grab a few things – I’d left my toothbrush up at the top of a mountain, for example. Something I ate wasn’t agreeing or else extreme fatigue set in, but we came back up and I went to sleep and slept through dinner – which I had discovered after lunch was nachos anyway. Then Katie woke me up because we were having a group meeting to address the food issue. Which, really, is a non-issue and was basically a waste of time, and I was more than a little annoyed to have to listen to peoples’ gripes. Brown rice vs. white. Voting on meals. Groups deciding amongst themselves what to make. Pandemonium. It was a cacophony of voices talking over each other to say something worthless. But then again, maybe I was tired and annoyed at being awakened. Nothing came of the meeting except that we would use brown rice instead of white once in a while. The fascinating tale continues below.

I was feeling a bit better and we wound up going out that night. I didn’t drink really, but did have a great time. Rachel was out and got pretty wild, which was hilarious. Kristen also let loose a bit though she insisted she was only tipsy. Her and Chelsea had a splash fight in the fountain before running into the water and taking a little swim in their jeans. And then it was back home and to bed – we had a big day of bungy jumping ahead of us. The alarm was useless as I was up at least an hour early tossing and turning and thinking about throwing myself off a ledge. I don’t often get scared of these extreme sports because they are clearly designed to be safe and hundreds if not thousands of people do it every single day with no problem, but bungy was freaking the heck out of me. We got to the Kawarau Bridge, which incidentally was the first bungy jump in the world, and I almost felt sick I was so scared. Which I should probably not be writing, but it was terrifying. It probably didn’t help that I was taking photos and video of the others preparing to jump and sitting on the ledges and hesitating. Chelsea was the funniest, leaning back, holding on to the post, but eventually doing it. Lauren and Dustin went tandem as did Lana and Amanda.

Then it was my turn. I’m embarrassed to admit that I have the whole babyish ordeal on DVD, but as I stood on the ledge looking down and thinking that I was basically hoping a bunch of elastic bands wouldn’t snap and plunge me to my death, I froze. The guy lost patience with me, I think, saying, “What I need to know is if you want to do this or not. If you don’t, step back from the edge and we’ll get some other people going. If you do, then I’ll work with you and we’ll do it. So do you want to or not?” To which I answered, “No, I don’t, but I am definitely going to.” We argued about the speed of his countdown and methods of motivation. I really didn’t want to do it, but knew I had to. And so I did eventually go over the edge and bungy jump about 100 ft, being dunked to my waist. It was a huge adrenaline rush but so scary that it almost wasn’t enjoyable. I really regretted that I had signed up to do the thrillogy. I had done it (perhaps with a nudge) and I never wanted to do it again. It was far more scary than fun and the jump itself was really a blur that even the next day I don’t really remember. But I’d paid for two more jumps and I was going to do it.

We stopped for lunch at a place in town called Fergburger, which has all sorts of burgers, and they are delicious. Chelsea had the original Fergburger, I had the Sweet Bambi, and Anthony had a sweeter burger as well, with bacon (I remember the word swine in his burger name). My burger was great but a little too sweet (there was a thai plum chutney on it) for what I was after. The Fergburger had a nice beefy burgery taste and was probably my favourite of the three.

Then, off to Nevis, the second highest bungy jump in the world, jumping off a gondola suspended from a gondola over a gorge. I was a little more confident as I focused on the positive facts: hundreds of people do this everyday, this particular company has a 100% safety record (doesn’t that mean they’re due, a little voice in my head cried), I had done it once and it was just fine, etc, etc, etc. We went across to the suspended station in a little trolley car with an iron grate for a floor and it was pretty terrifying all over again. Straight down into a ravine 134 metres (440 ft) below. We got into the station and it was surrounded in glass, including a glass floor and some other fun. They were blaring heavy music which somehow helped relax me. I did this one without hesitation, knowing that if I didn’t go right away I would never go, and it was amazing and so much more fun than my first jump. After the first rush, it was actually really peaceful. Being yanked from the canyon bottom back into the air, floating for a few seconds and really looking around, hearing the water below, people cheering above, and the birds, and then falling again. THIS is bungy jumping. And I was so happy I had done multiple jumps at this point.

We had one more jump to do that afternoon, and it was from the ledge. We took the gondola up to the top of the city (about 400m above Queenstown) and from the ledge we had to run and jump into the abyss, which was what I had been wanting to do since hanggliding. Then we got talking about flips, and since I was last, I got to see where the bar was set. Katie started with one flip, Meridith made two, Dustin two and a half, and then my turn. I resolved to take everything I’d learned in my one diving class and few years in gym to beat Dustin and set the record for the day. Then I ran off the edge and jumped. 1…. 2…. 3…. and the cord tightened. It was a really fun jump and though I was a bit nervous this time, it didn’t compare at all to the bridge or Nevis in terror. I could see strapping up and doing that one again and again. I truly felt like the king of Queenstown. And I mostly added that line in so I would have a good title for this post.

We had dinner tonight which Albrie made, a chicken dumping soup and some vegetables which were good and needed. Some of the group had class, so I helped Katie and Norm finish the dishes while Lauren looked at my photos of bungy and the night prior. Then she kept going and went through old photos and started laughing at my high school pictures which drew attention, and then I went through a bunch of them with her and Katie, doubtless boring them to tears. Then Chris, Brad, and I went into town to have a quiet drink away from the girls. We were going to go to a lounge or quiet pub but instead picked up a six-pack and sat in the harbour drinking and relaxing. It was much needed separation.

The next morning, I had to be up early to do breakfast. Later today, we were heading out to do the luge high above Queenstown. We stopped first for another Fergburger and then Katie took Chris, Brad, Anthony, and myself to a couple vineyards a little ways out of town in the Gibson Valley. The first one also had a cheesery on site so we grabbed a platter of cheeses (my favourites were the bree and the blue cheese which was very mild and not much like what my dad enjoys, but tasty) and some wine and sat in the sun and peace. Quiet can be hard to come by, so this was very nice. Then we came back and did the luge five times. It’s actually a lot of fun and a really cool little track. Actually, two tracks. A slower scenic route and the high speed route. I actually did pretty well against the group if I may say so myself, and I also managed to get some video including Brad almost biting it when I had my camera on my back. Hopefully I’ll get some of these videos up soon.

Our wine group went for dinner at a place called Avanti which wasn’t really my pick but it was an outdoor café and the food was decent even if the service was not. Then the group went back to watch a video for their class and that left Chris, Katie, and myself to do what we wanted. Chris, however, wanted to see this video as well so Katie and I went to a chocolate shop and picked up some 71% dark Belgian chocolate (mine with Macadamian nuts, her with almonds) and ice cream. It was a nice shop and quite delicious. Then we went to a neighbouring pub and watched a band play covers most of the night. They were great for a three piece though I wasn’t a huge fan of his vocal reworking, the guitars sounded great. The one guitarist had an E-Bow which gave a really sweet pedal steel sound for a few of the songs, and they both played mandolin as well.

Then, the next morning, our last full day in Queenstown, I was dragged out of bed early for a group meeting on Routeburn, our 3 day hike through the Alps. I got put in Norm’s group which puts me with Lauren Sanders, Katie Phillips, Albrie, Anthony, Alli, and Kristen. It will be interesting because it’s pretty much exclusively people I haven’t spent much time with. I guess after four days we’ll all hate or love each other. Then Anthony and I went riverboarding with Mad Dog on some category 3 and 4 rapids. Riverboarding, for those sane enough to not know what this means, is going through some white water rapids with nothing more than a flutterboard. And in case you’re wondering, there are 6 categories of white water, category 6 being something like Niagra Falls, 5 being a big fall like we did in our raft that would be very troublesome otherwise, and 4 being sheer insanity on anything smaller than a raft. And it was insanity.

We got going and it seemed relatively tame at first. We learned to barrel roll, duck dive through waves, catch a whirlpool (by far the easiest thing to do), and squirt. We took off and eventually came to a standing surf wave. I wasn’t able to surf it the first time and walked back upstream a ways to try again. Anthony, on the other hand, was a natural. The guy is in his element on the water. The second time I paddled hard and far as I could, getting tired just in time to catch the wave. I surfed it for about 5 seconds before the front of my board caught, so I was still physically exhausted when I was pulled from the wave and underwater through the rapids. It all happened quickly and when I surfaced I was amazed to see how far downstream I’d gone underwater – these are not your little sister’s rapids. I was also amazed to see one of the guides who had come to grab me and keep me from going too far right in my face as she ran over me just as I went to inhale a much-needed lungful of air. Back under her board I went, and I’ll admit I was a little scared and later miffed. But obviously I’m here and it wasn’t really that bad in retrospect.

Then we came to the category 4 section. 3 metre waves, holes, all sorts of crazy stuff. This was wildly intense but a lot of fun. I managed a barrel roll off the top of one of the taller waves and caught some air before plunging into the trough for the next big wave. This section alone was worth it. Then we went back to our hostel, making it just in time for a BBQ (thanks, Brad!) and I made my dad’s baked apples for dessert. The next group (PC3) was there and we took them out for a night on the town much as PC1 had taken us out. Katie Phillips brought us to a place that wasn’t very popular and the group somewhat fractured there. Leader Katie and a few others went to this other upstairs bar where they served minipitchers out of teapots. A pretty neat idea though I can only imagine the breakage. Chris and I got them out there and brought the two groups together at Altitude, which was a fun time. A great night to celebrate our beginning the most arduous of our adventures the next morning, the Routeburn…

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Mount Mt. Cook

It was a long but nice trek to Mt. Cook that was a bit hurried because we had to get there in time for our 3:30 glacier cruise departure. We stopped once en route at Lake Tekapo to check out a beautiful blue mountain lake as well as the church on its banks. Then off to Mt. Cook and our hostel in the village of it, with just enough time to drop off our stuff and change before heading out the door. We loaded on to a bus and drove down to what Brad and I would painfully discover was the Tasman Valley before getting off and hiking to the glacial melt pool. Because of all the limestone and silt, the water looked like milk, literally. It was white and thick and impervious to the sun and prying eyes. Which is too bad, because it is hundreds of feet deep and loaded with icebergs descending to the depths.

The cruise wasn’t what I was expecting – I was thinking a big, slow boat lazily floating to the glacier. Instead, three yellow powerboats sped into the harbour and we boarded them. Our guide was Canadian and from Calgary/Banff and we got right up to and against some of the icebergs, breaking off chunks and sucking on them like some sort of 100-year old candy: slowly, carefully, and making funny faces the whole time. But it was crystal clear. We jumped off the boats and walked around one of the bigger bergs, motored along to a natural ice arch where we used our wake to splash another of the boats, and then headed to the glacier’s tail – an imposing wall of rock and ice. We kept a safe distance from that because the rocks were tumbling into the water rather constantly and occasionally quite loudly.

We parked our boats on a bigger berg and some of the more daring souls took a plunge in the (literally) ice water. I had done this in Scandinavia a few times and that was enough for me to pass on it this time, but sitting in the sun surrounded by ice and water, I was getting hot enough to do it anyway. We rode the boars back, splashing other boats and getting splashed ourselves, occasionally by our guide who’d turn into the wind and hit other wakes. It was actually a lot of fun and far better than I’d hoped.

Before we’d gotten off the bus, a very pretty Australian guide from one of the other groups, Jo, popped on to let us know that the village bar had a Brazilian Carnivale theme going on and guys weren’t going to be admitted without being dressed as girls. So, we scoured clothes off the girls, they did our hair and makeup, and we went out. Us boys had some fun, but the girls were pretty much just sitting there and watching us, and it began to feel like we were trained chimps or something. Still, we didn’t let it slow us down too much. When you look at some of the photos, you’ll think there must’ve been a lot of alcohol involved, and I should probably tell you that there was and we were all drunk beyond recognition, but the reality is that at most we had two beer, and a few of the others also had a cosmo to play the part. And play the part we did, to the point that I was occasionally freaked out by the other guys and also myself when reviewing photos.

The next day was a free day, which some took to day hike (notably Lauren, Chelsea, and Katie), and most took to have a movie marathon in the lounge. Chris wasn’t feeling well and everyone else was wiped out, though from what remains a mystery, so Brad and I rented some brand new bikes (they’d just arrived that day) from the front desk and biked to what we were told were some beautiful blue lakes we could bike and then hike to and go swimming. We set off, being told it would take about 50 mins to get there and maybe 2 hours back since it was uphill. As we were winding down a sharp downhill that was going to be a pain to ascend later, it dawned on us both that we were voyaging to the exact place we’d been yesterday on our glacier cruise, and now we had paid $25 and had to climb this hill. Having gone this far though, we thought maybe it was different lakes we’d not seen and continued on, sure enough, to the place we’d hopped off the bus. We hiked the trails and took a different turn, excited to see the blue lakes.

Finally, we reached a clearing and could see the blue lake. I want you to imagine this scenario. We’d biked a fairly challenging ride (though it only took us 25 mins), and then hiked to come see the blue lakes, and the first one was, literally, a slough. There was nothing blue about it, there were leaves and plants growing in it (I called it an algae bloom), and it was tiny. Brad and I burst out laughing probably the hardest I’d laughed on this entire trip, and there have been plenty of occasions to laugh. Others who’d been likewise misled also found some humour in it and we took a few photos of the first blue lake before being told the other was even “better”. We hiked to it and it was really little more than a particularly dirty puddle. Laughing again and a few photos later, we turned back and rode our bikes to a waterfall I’d suggested we hike to on the way there.

At this point, the laugh alone had been worth the ride, but the hike up the waterfall was fantastic. It was completely untrailed and a bit rocky, but that made it all the more scenic. We hiked up along the stream and water splashing and parting on the rocks, and made our way up as far as we could before the gorge became too narrow. We sat and had some snacks and water then made our way back down. The water was crystal clear and very tempting, but apparently giardia is a big issue here and neither of us was quite up to taking a drink of it. We had come in our trunks to swim the blue lakes and then had hoped to swim in the waterfall pool, but it was both higher (and therefore more powerful) and more inaccessible than we’d guessed, so we swam in one of the small pools below. By swam I mean it took me several attempts just to get my head wet, between which I’d have to run out because my body was numb. It was glacial melt again, so the warmth was not overwhelming.

That night we watched Crocodile Dundee (which was highly overrated in my opinion) and A Clockwork Orange, which was twisted but I actually really enjoyed it. Then some local TV where they took a rugby team of idiots and set them to the task of trying to run a restaurant. It was really, really stupid and ridiculous. At the end they were rated on the evolutionary chain; the worst participant was the frog, the best was prince charming. Fantastically awful.

The next morning we got set to hike up Mt. Cook. We booked ourselves a spot in the Mueller Hut just in time, packed, and set off. The hike is easily the most grueling thing I can remember doing. We split as we climbed, with me falling behind all but two because I’d run off the path and to side paths to get photos. And I’d hurt my knee in a freak red rover incident. And my feet were red and burning with every step for some reason. Oh, and mostly because I’m terrifically out of shape. But we hiked up and up, into the cloud, over rock slides that offered all slip and no grip, an endless stair climb that makes the 1000 steps in Nafplio look like a walk to the corner store, and boulder fields that required bounding and scrambling with our packs. Finally getting to the top, the mist was light and offered glimpses of blue occasionally, and what a welcome sight that was. Then, the red hut appeared around a boulder looking like an oasis.

We were above and surrounded by the clouds and it was amazing. Absolutely amazing. I can’t believe there were people in our group (those who are ill excepted) that chose not to do it. Ostensibly because it was $35 for some (to which I call bologne – they spend that much on an average night drinking). Others wanted another lazy day, which at least was honest, but really, it was so worth it. I would easily have paid a couple hundred to have been there that particular day and night. We ate some food (my ham had gone sour and my bagels moldy – oops). I wound up eating an olive sandwich which was better than it sounds and two oranges. The others were offering to share, but I had enough anyway. Some hiked up to the top of Mt. Olivier, which was only 20 mins away but my feet were on fire by this point and we were ostensibly hiking there for sunset anyway. I sat on a big rock overlooking, well, everything but My. Olivier, and chatted with Lauren and then Kate and then Katie for a while.

Later that afternoon, we grabbed some garbage bags and pack liners and headed up the mountain slope to do some sledding. Or bagging. However you prefer. The slope was steep enough and packed enough (with a melt layer on top) that it was really slippery and great for bagging it down. Unfortunately, as I was walking through the snow to the slope along the rocks, I actually fell through a layer of thin snow and my left leg dropped about 3 ft. so that my non-red-rover-injured knee smacked into a rock and was cut. But luckily nothing more than another bruise and a small cut. We made our way up to the top and it was a wild ride. I took some video and photos and was almost run down by Alli, who came barreling at me out of control – I literally jumped over her. It was great fun and worth the hike alone to be sledding up in the clouds among the mountaintops.

A snowball fight erupted and I’m ashamed to say I didn’t exactly do Canada proud. I had some close calls but hardly hit anyone. Lauren mentioned that the sunset was cool over the valley and Brad and I went to check it out and hopefully get some photos. The valley wasn’t spectacular, but the setting sun by Mt. Cook cast the mountain pink and it was quite pretty. We found a narrow gorge with about a 40 ft. drop and took pictures hopping across it and then rejoined the others as they made their way inside. Although there was a moon that night, it hadn’t risen yet, so we had a bit of time with some really spectacular stars. We chatted with an Israeli amateur astronomer and managed to grab a few photos though with my 10MP sensor, they are less than impressive. Still, very beautiful, and you could even see the comet, though only by not looking directly at it. Up there we felt very close to the stars, which is ridiculous but true.

We woke in the morning in time to see the sunrise from our windows, packed up, and set off for the bottom by 7 AM. We had to get there in time for checkout at 10, so there wasn’t much time to dally. Venturing down, the sunrise became even more beautiful, as a blanket of clouds below unveiled itself and the sun shone on us above them in a perfect blue sky. We made our way into the cloud and below, the hike very taxing on our shaking knees (I wound up borrowing an extra walking pole from Alli) and made it back with an hour to spare. Then we set off for Queenstown, losing Katie and her van in the process, which left me as navigator. Everyone but Norm and I slept, it had been a tiring two days, and soon, after a stop at the bungee bridge to view our next challenge, we were rolling into Queenstown, adventure capital of the world and tourist
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A Peeling Forest

We left Christchurch after Anthony and I grabbed some souvlaki and we’d all grabbed some lunch for the next three days from the grocer, and hit the road hard. Too hard, it turns out, as one of the trailers got a flat. And we had neither spare nor tool to repair, but someone pulled over that happened to have the gear (I, unaware of this, was trying to load the other trailer with Meredith to keep the one as light as possible). A few of us ran the wheel into a nearby town and got a replacement, back on the road and on the way to Peel Forest in relatively short order. We had to walk about half a kilometre to our lodge in the woods; it’s a cool little place which is completely self sufficient other than needing some gas for the stoves and wood for the fire and hot water. It uses a solar system and does have a generator if needed. And, most interestingly, it has composting toilets, which mean that number one and two go in separate places and number two gets the sawdust and haul-in-a-pail treatment. Yummy.

It seems to be that the boys are always sharing rooms now which is convenient in some ways but in other ways sucks because it always keeps us with the same people. Not that I have any objections to any of them, it’s just that I feel like I don’t spend much time with the rest of the group lately. Though we did have a good little shindig after dinner (shish kebab) and I had a bit of a chat with Lauren about the whole Chelsea ignoring me/me interrupting thing and with Katie about some of the drama in the group relating to someone I consider relatively harmless and normal. I think we all had a good time that night though I have enough bites on my legs to rival a shark bite.

The next day came early and for some a little rough, but we got up and went to a rope course in the trees. Well, on the trees and in a clearing. It’s not like a high-forest thing, but it was a lot of fun. We warmed up with a game called “Hawks, Wizards, and Elves” which is basically a team-based rock-paper-scissors, then did a little work on some low ropes that were actually still fun. They have a wild flying fox that’s probably up 100 ft or so and it was a little scary to hop off the ledge and do it. I’m supposed to jump the second highest bungee jump in the world near Queenstown that’s about 400 ft up and from a gondola, and I’m more than a little frightened about that one to be honest. Kristen and I did something called the vertical playground that was a lot of fun and a definite team effort to get to the top, I also did a bit of a handstand on a beam about 20 ft. off the ground, though with a less than graceful ending. A lot of the group tired early and I just wanted to keep going, though my arms did tire.

We left around 1:30 and made our way back to the lodge, where we boys were locked out of our room and away from our food. This was not good as we’d all worked up an appetite and were hungry but we did get to eat by three. We had a group discussion about some of the recent goings-on and enjoyed a bit of sun and warmth before dinner which was very early for those of us who’d been locked out. Oh well. Chris killed a wasp on my plate and another one was back soon after and just about flew in my mouth. It hit my lips just as I was about to say something. Then, some of the group went into town to watch The Holiday, and I hung back here to have a little peace and because I’d seen the movie, and also to catch up on things. It was nice to sit in the lodge with just Albrie and looking up from my computer to see forest and hearing only animal noises and the wind. I also finally watched Walk the Line though we were just at the Folsom Prison gig when everyone started coming back and it got a little harder to hear. We took it pretty easy that night and hung out in the lodge chatting and lounging on couches with the warm fire. Had we known how hot and gross our room would be, we probably would’ve avoided the fire altogether, but it was that or mosquito meat.

The next day was white water kayaking, and real kayaking. We broke into three groups based on confidence in paddling and of course I went for the cocky group. I’ve been instructed how to paddle more than I care to admit (recall the Abel Tasman nazi) and plus, I’m here to have some fun and do some crazy stuff. Of course we were all on the same rapids together, but our guy was spending time showing us how to do some of the harder things like surfing our kayak (I finally got it at the end!) and hanging out in a hole. It’s pretty neat to sit in the rapids with water flowing by like crazy (70m^3/s) and not be moving. Dustin tipped out of his kayak before we even got started, which was pretty funny, and by the end, all of us had taken at least a few tumbles. Brad took one at the top of a rapid and body surfed it down which was pretty wild. We would go back and upriver several times to try to catch waves and have some fun. As Chris put it, you completely got out of it what you put into it, and so I think all of us had a great time. We had a lunch rest midway through our 6 km journey down the river and by the end, there wasn’t a rested arm in the house.

We stopped in town to pick up a few supplies and wandered back for dinner. I was on duty today and we had chili and baguettes for dinner. Some of our river guides came by the site and we learned to play some cricket, did a rugby toss sort of game where two people hoisted a third up to compete with another group doing the same thing and then running down to the edge of our clearing and making a try/touchdown. Red Rover also made an appearance and while I didn’t play much, one of the teams was being decimated and so I joined them late. Within three people I smashed my knee into Amanda’s and while we’re both okay, I think we’ve got some bruises to show for it. Certainly I have a huge bump. In any case, it was a fun evening and we called it a night by midnight, dead to the world. Coming up next, a trip to base camp: Mount Cook and a glacier cruise. Then a hike up to the top and a sleep up there, watching the sunset and next morning’s sunrise.

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West Bests Rest

After some initial confusion about getting into Christchurch (the road signs in were about as unclear as it gets) we found our way to the YMCA. I was skeptical, I’m not going to lie to you, but we were pleasantly surprised. A pretty decent location only three blocks from the river, and, for this group, only a block from the police station. Which Albrie, one late night, thought was a club as she walked home. But that’s a story for later. This time, all the boys were together in a room (“Man power” as Chris likes to say) and Brad, Chris, and I took off to explore the town before dinner. We didn’t find much, but decided it was a pretty nice city, and found Chris a patch for NZ. We found a really cool Scotch store – just tonnes and tonnes of whisky – and after chatting with the owner, got directions to a wine store and the best place in the city for rack of lamb. I was not going to leave without a good rack of lamb and this place (Hay’s) was run by some people who also had a farm and took the lamb from there. It turns out most of NZ’s best lamb is exported, so finding out about a place like this was definitely something exciting.

We went and found the wine store (Hemmingway’s) and, alas, no Waimea Sauv Blanc. Finding a bottle of this has become the mutual obsession of Brad and myself. We also checked out Hay’s and decided that it was within the realm of affordability. We made our way back to the YMCA for dinner and then had a bit of a party and slideshow in our room. It was actually fun and nice to have a bunch of us together. Then, it being Friday night, we (i.e. Brad, Chris, and myself) went out with Lauren, Chelsea, and Katie to a place down the street called Dux Deluxe, which is a combination restaurant, pub, lounge, and venue, all in separate rooms. There was a live reggae band that wasn’t bad for that sort of thing, and aside from Chris, who just wasn’t feeling it, we all had a good time. We spent a bit of time striking matches backwards on the matchbox, watched the band, and hung out. Then everyone was hungry, so we wandered around for a falafel place that intoxicated Katie assured us was worth it and found it closed. So we went for some sushi (I didn’t eat) and then made our way back home.

The next morning we had to switch rooms which I was less than pleased by. It meant leaving all our stuff in a conference room which they were to keep locked, but it made me a little paranoid. After that bedlam, we went rock climbing. By we, this time, I mean Brad, Chris, and myself. Well, no, it wasn’t quite that bad, but almost. Kate, Dustin, Lauren were also there, as well as Katie (leader) and Norm. Norm got a little lost en route and I had to play guide as though I knew where I was going, with the map in my hand. We were a little shocked at how few people bothered to show up, though some had gone for tattoos that day, some slept in, and some just didn’t want to do anything strenuous. Which makes me wonder why they came on this particular tour, but then I’m not reputed as There were three cliff faces, an easy, medium, and hard (5.9). The first two weren’t that difficult, but the third cliff was definitely a trick. There was an overhang that had to be negotiated and I was definitely hanging from one hand at one point in the endeavour, but I did make it up without falling, and that’s definitely a bonus.

Afterwards, I walked around with Chris, finally bought some phone cards and called home and also called my old travel buddy from Germany and Copenhagen, Mike, who lives here. Chris and I met Mike and Simon (who I also traveled around with in Berlin) at 5:30 and chatted for a while before taking a drive out to the hills where the rich homes are and a nice view of the city. We went back to the hostel to change and pick up Brad for our meal at Hay’s. And then I realized that my camera was missing. Yup. Again. I know, I know. I wasn’t even going to tell you. I checked my bag a few times (as did the other guys) and then asked at the front desk. We looked in the conference room, our old room, the maid’s closet, but no luck. Neither Chris nor myself remembered me having it the night before, so that left it being stolen from the conference room or in the room, and Brad and I had double-checked our room was empty. But we went out for dinner anyway because there was nothing to be done, stopping on the way at Dux Deluxe to no avail.

Dinner was delicious. The second best rack of lamb I’ve ever had, after my dad’s. Unfortunately, the meal was a bit small, but we had some dessert with deep fried honey and chocolate and Brad and I split a bottle of wine. Simon wasn’t there because he had a dinner with coworkers for leaving his job, but we did bring Anthony along. It was a terrific, anyway, and for days after, whenever we’d hungry, we’d look at each other, nod, and say “rack of lamb”. We went back to the hostel after dinner because I wanted a second opinion on whether my camera had come out with me the night prior. Chelsea and Lauren were downstairs on the internet and I interrupted them to ask if they remembered me having it. Lauren didn’t either, but Chelsea said “Yup, definitely.” And then ignored my follow up questions because she was looking at some guys. Admittedly I was a little annoyed at her lack of concern, but I guess she was annoyed at my interruption. In any case, we set out to the Sushi place to ask them. I walked in and said, “We were here yesterday and I left my camera here last night” and she said, “Oh, yeah” and then spent a few minutes looking and conferring with a coworker before producing my camera from below. All of us cheered, I announced I was buying the group of people who had been looking with me a round, hugged the girl behind the counter to the confusion of onlookers, and we set off for a night on the town.

And it was a good night. Mike took us to several clubs, starting at a converted movie theatre called the Holy Grail that was like a cross of the Odeon and the Hose & Hydrant. Three levels, huge, and isolated. We vowed to have a drink on each level and did. I bought ouzo shots for everyone, ouzo being surprisingly expensive here and also rare. And then we all took turns buying rounds and Chris started issuing the challenges. Anthony’s was to find out where two girls were from. He asked them and the poor girls hightailed for the door right after. Chris’ was to bring back one of the few hot girls that had just gone downstairs to the upper level, which he didn’t quite succeed in. It is of great interest to me that there are so few really pretty Kiwi girls. They’re not ugly by any stretch, but none of them really are head-turners either. A couple of the boys can attest to that particularly.

We got in at about 5:30 AM after a stop at Burger King after a few of the guys had sampled that particularly large whopper, and got a couple hours. The day prior, Mike had been surprised to learn that our tour doesn’t do much if anything on the west coast, and so he promised to take us out there the next day. Chris and I met with Mike and Simon at 11:00 and we took off. It didn’t take long to get to the mountains and they were instantly beautiful. It was a gorgeous day and amazing scenery. Driving along, I thought I saw something that looked like Weathertop from Lord of the Rings, and soon we saw quite a few cars pulled over alongside some hoodoos. Sure enough, we’d stumbled on Weathertop and also the ‘valley’ where the final battle of Narnia was shot. That stop alone made the day great. We climbed up into the hoodoos and rock and had a look around and on the way back down met a girl and her parents from Texas who had overheard us. The girl was quite attractive, shall we say, and her parents were nice, so this was also a nice thing to have happen on that particular day.

We drove away and not far along Simon claimed he’d seen a guy on a unicycle which would’ve been quite the feat through the mountains. Even on flat road, it’s not exactly designed for distance. Mike turned the car around and we went back, passing the Texans again (sure they thought we were stalking them) and sure enough, a unicycle. We got some photos and turned around again to take some more photos, and he took ours too. Then off into Arthur’s Pass, where the mountains got quite a bit more rugged and wild. We passed the Texans again, quickly becoming a running gag, because they were driving pretty slowly, and carried on to a town in the middle where we grabbed some meat pies. And wouldn’t you know it, the Texans stopped at the same place for a bite. With the amount we’d been running across them, I felt like I had to get a photo, so I went up to the table, visited some more, and the girl asked if we were in Christchurch that night. I took this as a sign that she was looking to hang out a bit with some people her age, so I invited her for a drink at 11 that night. Then we were off once more.

It was really nice being in the mountains in a car, especially a Mercedes, because with the vans full of people and toting trailers full of gear, we really don’t get to ride these roads. Zipping around the bends and up and down the slopes was a lot of fun and something I’d been aching to do since we first hit some of these really nice mountain roads a few weeks ago. Mike and Simon were great guides with lots of little insights and stories, and we stopped to check out a new fairly impressive viaduct that won some engineering awards, and just cool scenery. The rata trees, which grow red, were really cool accents on the mountains, although I didn’t get any great photos of them, it was amazing to drive through the rusty valleys on the way to the west coast. It was also neat to see the vegetation changing as we went west, moving more into rainforest. The west coast itself was spectacular, lush, jurassic, and breathtaking. We went through Greymouth north to see the pancake rocks and some blow holes but the holes weren’t blowing and the rocks were hard to photograph.

Then we headed back, making it in at about 10:30, just enough time to go change and meet Bethany. Mike and Simon were really awesome to take us all that way to see the coast and Arthur’s Pass. All said, it was almost a full 12 hours and we would never have seen some of those things or learned some of the things we did on our own tour. Much as I like Katie and Norm, they really don’t qualify as guides so much as drivers and planners. We don’t get any information about the places we visit, and we to be honest, we’ve probably put on close to 100 kms in U-turns already. There are no guided tours through the cities or countryside to see and learn about certain things, and it’s fine to do it on our own but it was also nice to have a wealth of local perspective too. Given that I only traveled with them for a week, I’d say they definitely went above and beyond. So a public thank-you is in order.

As for the drink with Bethany, it was nice to meet someone new after traveling with the group so long and she was definitely a nice girl. We had a glass of wine each, which I got for free because we left at closing time and they’d forgotten my tab and all cashed out, and then sat on the river and talked some more before parting ways. Then, another late evening, and back home where I had to pull my backpack out of the room to pack it for leaving the next morning.

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Attack of the Killer Dolphins

We pulled into Kaikoura after a brief stop for some wine and a few beer in the back. Couldn’t find our Waimea, but I got a bottle of Oyster Bay SB that was pretty good. After getting settled and taking some photos of the amazing mountain view and sunset, Lauren, Katie, Chris, Brad, Anthony, and myself walked over to grab a nice spot to sit in the dusk looking over the ocean and distant peaks with a bit of wine (and in Chris’ case, a flask of scotch). The group was following me and I walked past a bush with a zillion big black flies (or maybe wasps?) buzzing around and moved out of the way just a moment too late. I yelped and tried to warn the others but they walked right into it. The flies chased them all down the street while I stood two feet from the nest laughing hysterically. Lauren would scream waving her arms in her hair and then stop three steps away, calm, and then be attacked again and repeat the process several times. Nobody got bitten or anything though.

After our wine, we made our way into town (about 2km away) and grabbed some pub grub and a beer. A couple girls were eyeing up Anthony, so he went and talked with them. Meanwhile, I helped some locals win a geography contest that was going on. They had to name capital cities. I believe the countries in question were: Canada, Croatia, Finland, Sweden, Afghanistan, Tanzania, Kenya, Peru, Ukraine, and one other one. I couldn’ get Tanzania and Kenya, and they’d gotten Canada and Sweden already. But they never did deliver the drink they promised. Anyway, we had a good quiet and social night out. Nobody wanted to drink too much because we were out on the sea tomorrow to go swim with the dolphins.

And that’s just what we did. I mercifully didn’t get seasick and we thankfully found a wild pod of dusky dolphins and dropped into the water with them. It was amazing. They were very playful, and loved watching us try to do things in the water in the same way that we might enjoy watching someone intoxicated trying to put his keys in the door. They completely outclass us in the water (of course) and enjoy showing it off. I was in the water snorkeling and one came up to me, made eye contact, and then started swimming around me. I tried to keep the pace of the circle and he slowly sped up and sped up until I couldn’t anymore. I laughed and then he turned around and did the same thing in the other direction. We went back and forth like that a couple times. They also liked when we’d dive under water, and supposedly when we’d make noises. Brad was howling like a wolf, I was making mooing sounds (hey, it worked on the seals!) and singing/humming, and I did try some dolphin noises but I’m woefully out of practice.

There were somewhere in the neighbourhood of 600 dolphins in the pod, quite likely more. And, you have to remember, these are wild dolphins. They’re not trained to do tricks, be nice, or be even remotely interested in humans. So being there and having them take a little time out to play with us, smack their tails on the water, flip, circle us, and whatever else was completely on their terms and all the more amazing. One of the dolphins actually came back to play with me a few times, I recognized him because he had a big scar over his left eye. I tried to make it entertaining for them, diving and launching myself out of the water, clapping my fins, and things like that. We probably looked ridiculous to the people on the boat, but I didn’t care. In the past three days, I’ve seen wild seals, penguin-like birds, swam with dolphins and had them hang out with our kayak, travelled to remote beaches, and if I go back further, the laundry list of awesomeness keeps getting longer. Hang gliding, category 5 rafting, Bananas and Blow singalongs, you name it.

We had the rest of the day free, so I went for lunch with Brad and we met up with Lauren and Chelsea for a bite at the Why Not café. I had a lamb pie (the meat pies are very popular here) and a sandwich and milkshake (milkshakes, likewise, are more popular than they are thick). Brad and I ran across some professional bikers doing stunts and watched them for a spell. Then, I captioned and updated my photos from the last few days and did some internet stuff. Nobody was online to chat with at that hour unfortunately. I guess I’m going to have to buckle down and buy a phone card. Dinner tonight was the first meat-related dinner we’ve had on PC2 since, well, since who knows. Tacos and fruit salad with all the fixings. I hung out with the boys that night as the girls seem to be afraid of being caught awake after 10:00 and we called it a night.

The next morning we got up after a much more refreshing sleep than the night prior. The bunk I slept on squeaked any time my toe so much as twitched and kept me up quite a bit. Plus the room had been sauna like in heat, and I was getting eaten alive and therefore itchy. My foot felt swollen, it was so bitten. So that night, I slept like a baby. Anyway, breakfast, for the first time, was not bread, peanut butter, jam, and yogurt. We had scrambled eggs and cheese, hashbrowns, kiwis, and nectarines. Part of this was because we finally got our bank card for the trip so poor Katie didn’t have to finance it out of her pocket. We’re on our way to Christchurch with a CD Brad made that’s actually pretty good and everyone seems in good spirits for the first time in a few days, except maybe Kate. Though she’s doing well considering some very unfortunate news from home. Hopefully we can cheer her up or at least keep her busy. Anyway, Christchurch next and I’m going to meet up with a friend that lives there hopefully. Now, if you don’t mind, the scenery is pretty and I’m going back to it.