Wanaka, New Zealand

Monday and Tuesday, 21 and 22 Janary 2008

Leahanne's sister, Amanda, has put us in touch with a friend of hers in Wanaka, Marian. Marian and her husband John, have a beautiful holiday house there and have kindly offered us a place to stay and a warm shower (yippee!). The inn is full, with friends of Marian and John's from Germany - Christian, Ursula, Brenda and Sandra - also staying. After being cooped up in the van, it's great to be able to enjoy the home comforts and delicious food.

The weather clouds up for a day but we sneak out for a stroll along the picturesque edge of Lake Wanaka and Leahanne re-discovers her obsession with jigsaws - a scary sight!

The next day we go kayaking with Marian, John, Christian and Ursula. Our guides are the very knowledgeable and chipper Ben (pronounced "bean" in New Zealandish) and Geoff. Apart from Christian and Ursula, we are all novices at kayaking but Ben and Geoff are very patient teachers and soon enough we are out on the open water. Because of the recent rains the river has swelled and is moving at about 8 kph. It is crystal clear though and we can see plenty of fish below, along with the scourge of New Zealand's waterways - the algae didymo (a.k.a. "rock snot"). It's a nice gentle run and we can enjoy the scenery on the banks of the river. Before long though we are flying (a bit of an exaggeration) through rapids and eddies with names like the "Mother-in-law" and the "Washing Machine" and most of us, except for the perfectly-balanced Leahanne, have taken a few dips in the water. It's an enjoyable day and we'd really recommend Alpine Kayak Guides.

Thanks to Marian and John's very warm hospitality, Wanaka has definitely been one of the highlights of our time in New Zealand. It was hard to wrench ourselves away.

If you want to see photos click here.

Queenstown, New Zealand

Saturday and Sunday, 19 and 20 January 2008

Queenstown is on the edge of Lake Wakatipu and has a skyline dominated by the Remarkables mountains. The town is a big tourist draw, particularly for backpackers who are into adventure sports. As a result the area is heavily built up (for New Zealand!). By chance, we bump into Derek Hayes, a friend of Leahanne's from Dungarvan, and his girlfriend, Angie, who are in New Zealand on holiday. After a great pizza at Winne Bagoes, we meet up with Derek and Angie in the local Irish pub (naturally!). Derek has done a bungy jump that day and makes us feel like complete wusses by not having done one yet. The next day we take the Skyline Gondolas up to the top of the hill overlooking Queenstown. We ride luges around the side of the hill at breakneck speeds of up to 5 kph. Dara decides to bite the bullet and do the Ledge Bungy, on the side of the hill. Nerves are evident beforehand - 4 separate sprinted visits to the bathroom. The time for the jump nears. It is then delayed as a girl on the neighbouring canyon-swing has a re-think and the staff have to hold everything until she is winched back to safety. In the meantime Dara sweats it. Finally the moment of truth arrives. The jump itself is not exactly balletic, more of a belly flop through empty space really, and the infant screams from Dara do not help. For footage of this embarrassing moment see here.

We drive out to Glenorkey, about 70 km from Queenstown. It's a lovely spot, at the head of Lake Wakatipu. The local campsite looks fairly basic so we decide to do our first freedom camp instead, finding a secluded spot beside the lake. It's peaceful until a local family roll up beside us. To set the tone, the parents start playing gangster rap at an ear-splitting volume. Then their kids turn the ignition on their jet-ski. The resulting sound must be what it's like to stand underneath a space shuttle launch. Between the soaring harmonies about the life of a pimp and the toddler joyriders trying to break the world water speed record, there is no peace. At long last they leave, possibly to score some dope or maybe tinker with the jet ski to see if they can be the first New Zealanders in space. It's a quiet enough night after that and we weren't killed in our beds.

If you want to see photos click here.

Fiordland, New Zealand

Thursday and Friday, 17 and 18 January 2008

After a day's driving, we arrive at Te Anau. This village is a staging post for trips to Milford Sound and Doubtful Sound. We stop for the night in the "Top 10" holiday park, one of a chain of campsites that are in all the major tourist spots in the country. They have been of a good standard. So far we haven't done any "freedom camping" (camping on the side of the road) for fear of being pecked to death by swarms of vampire kiwi birds - you'd be surprised how often this happens.

We have been told that the road to Milford Sound is a terrible drive. Every morning, the road is ruled by demonic tour coach drivers, blaring the Ride of the Valkyries from their buses, intent on running campervans off the road. Doubtful Sound is a bit more remote but offers the same scenery so we choose life.

The very efficient and friendly "Real Journeys" company run the tour. The trip begins with a boat journey across the glassy Lake Manapouri and 2 km bus trip underground to the West Arm hydroelectricity power station. The power station has some impressive looking turbines and other behemoth hydropower contraptions we don't understand. It looks ideal for the final scene from a Sean Connery Bond movie where loads of little men in matching silver coats and hardhats run in random directions, doing their best to be blown up.

Following this we take the bus overground, through the picturesque Wilmot Pass to Doubtful Sound itself. Our very capable tour guide is Rex, who gives a wry commentary along the way, mostly taking the mick out of tourists. The final stage of our trip is the climax, a 3 hour boat cruise along the Sound. It's hard to exaggerate just how beautiful Doubtful Sound is. A vast, empty stretch of water surrounded by towering green hills. Apparently it was called "Doubtful Sound" because, when Captain Cook reached the opening to it on the Tasman Sea, he decided not to venture up the Sound because it was "doubtful" there would be enough wind to get back out of it. Interesting story.

We are the only boat in the Sound and chug slowly out to the Tasman Sea. On the way we are lucky enough to see a school of bottlenose dolpins up close. It is mating season so the young males put on a rare show (not the kind you are thinking about!), one which the tour guides haven't seen before. For about 20 minutes, 10 large dolphins, do jumps and somersaults a few feet away from the boat. All of the passengers are on the upper deck, snapping away at this like papparazzi. Dara gets about 10 minutes of film footage and is very proud of himself. He then has the bright idea of deleting some other photos to make room on the camera's memory stick. In a new bungling personal best, he manages to delete all of the footage. Ooops!

For photos (but no footage) click here.

Stewart Island, New Zealand

Wednesday, 16 January 2008

The waters between the mainland and Stewart Island, an hour’s trip from the mainland, are blessedly calm. Having had the crossing from hell a few years back between Doolin and Inis Oirr it was nice to spend the journey not nervously eyeing the sick bags provided in the seat in front of you.

The island is New Zealand’s third largest and is mostly national park, with a large and varied bird population. Halfmoon Bay is where the ferry docks and has a small village but otherwise the island is uninhabited. Understandably, it's a popular destination for birdwatchers and trekkers. We enjoy rambling around, taking in a few of the more leisurely walks and enjoying the peace of the place. In the afternoon we make a pit-stop at the Church Hill Café, perched over Halfmoon Bay. It’s a good spot to enjoy the sunshine. In the evening, we have a tasty dinner at the South Sea Hotel. The pub next door is like a scene from Craggy Island - a handful of dishevelled islanders hold up the bar while taking the measure of the gringo tourists.

If you want to see photos click here.

The Catlins, New Zealand

Tuesday, 15 January 2008

We say goodbye to Tom, Chris and Carol and set off on the drive through the Catlins.

The roads here hug a spectacular coastline and sometimes are just gravel tracks so we have a few thrills on the way. Although it is sturdy, our van is not the most aerodynamic and tends to get pushed about a bit by the winds that gust from the sea. All at once it's thrown a foot or two sideways, either into the ditch or into the oncoming lane. All the driver can do is grip the wheel white-knuckle and look to the long grass in the ditch a few yards ahead for some clue as to when the next gust is coming.

It’s all small beans though when you compare it to the lot of the cyclists who have the determination/loss of marbles to tour around New Zealand in the saddle. You see them labouring into a Force 8 wind, up what you know to be the first of a series of Alp d’Huez hills, and say a quiet prayer. Lunatics!

Along the way to our destination for the night, Invercargill, we stop off a couple of times. We visit Jack’s Blowhole which is a bit disappointing. There is a blowhole there alright but not the big fountain of spray we were expecting. More impressive though is Curio Bay which is site of a 160-million year old fossil forest. It covers the area of a few football pitches (the universal unit of measure) and is dotted with petrified stumps of trees. Despite close inspection we do not find any Tyrannasaurus Rex remains.

To see photos click here.

Dunedin, New Zealand

Sunday and Monday, 13 and 14 January 2008

The next stop is Dunedin. We meet up with Dara’s schoolfriend Tom, who has spent the last few years, on and off, in New Zealand (mostly in Wellington). He is in Dunedin to help his friends, Chris and Carol, renovate Chris’ house.

We head out to the Otago Peninsula, which is home to the world’s only mainland royal albatross colony. There is a biting wind from the south but this provides excellent conditions for the albatrosses to show off. They move pretty quickly (up to recorded speeds of 160km/h) so a lot of the afternoon is spent idly waiting, searching the skies, lapsing into conversation, noticing the albatrosses at the last moment and then trying to resuscitate digital cameras to get a shot before the pesky birds disappear again.

Tom cooks a delicious Tipperary Thai curry for us (an O’Farrell family secret recipe, the origins of which are shrouded in mystery). We are given a sneak preview of a documentary Tom has been working on. The subject matter ranges from Irish wildlife, the building of his wood cabin in the Galtee mountains, to the construction of a Gaelscoil on Cape Clear Island. There is some great cinematography and David Attenborough-style narration from Tom.


The next day we try to do our bit for the renovations by cleaning a few windows but probably aren't much help. The transformation into useless campervan hippies is complete!

If you want to see photos click here.

Mackenzie Country, New Zealand

Friday and Saturday, 11 and 12 January 2008

Gentler terrain follows. We head through Mackenzie Country towards Lake Tekapo, which is in the interior of the South Island. On the radio, the country mourns the death of Sir Edmund Hillary, a man Kiwis are very proud of.

We reach Lake Tekapo. Its water is a very weird blue. This is due to “rock flour”. WARNING: unless you are a big fan of glacier science please skip to the next paragraph. Apparently, as a glacier moved through the valley, its stony underside scraped against the rock below and produced fine particles which now hang suspended in the lake. These particles refract sunlight and give the water its turquoise colour. Against the backdrop of the burnt yellows and browns of the surrounding hills it makes a stunning contrast. We try to impersonate ruddy-cheeked hill trekkers by walking up the side of Mt. John which has a good view over the lake and the plains beyond. Our camera's memory stick is being put through its paces!

Back on the road, we travel alongside the canals that link Lake Tekapo to Lakes Pukaki and Ohau, which were built as part of the region’s hydroelectricity system. We also try to find the Plains of Rohan, which will be a familiar name to Lord of the Rings nerds. It was pretty embarrassing asking the lady in the local tourist information office about this but it was clear that this was not the first time this question had been asked by low-brow tourists like us. She gave good directions, telling us that we wouldn’t be able to get all the way to where the scenes were shot but should be able to get close. Of course, when we got there, it didn’t look anything like the movie. We settled on one odd-shaped hill in the middle-distance as possibly being to the side of one screen shot. But we were not sure. We could see a lot of sheep (not hard in a country with a sheep population of 40 million) but not a single hobbit. We had spent a few hours on this fiasco and this may be our last attempt at Lord of the Rings tourism.

If you want to see photos click here.

Christchurch, New Zealand

Wednesday and Thursday, 9 and 10 January 2008

We say goodbye to Australia, sorry to be leaving a great country and parting from the friends we have made there. Most of all we will miss Leahanne’s brother Dave and Di who have taken such good care of us.

The Maori name for New Zealand is “Land of the Long White Cloud”. Christchurch was sitting under a very long and very grey cloud when we arrived and the weather was definitely a few degrees cooler than Sydney.

Our first mission is to pick up our campervan, which will be our home for the next month. We meet Roydon, owner of Sunshine Holidays Campervans, who has got up at the crack of dawn to drive 5 hours to get the van to us. He is very friendly and gives us a detailed explanation of all the bits and pieces in the van (e.g. the chemical toilet- the "Portapotty 335" model - Leahanne is appalled and vows never to use it!). It’s peak season and campervans are expensive. Sadly, our ambition of having a Winnebego the size of the Taj Mahal came into brief but brutal conflict with our limited resources. Poverty won out and we have a van that an estate agent would describe as “cosy”. However, despite the initial bumps and bruises from banging body parts off the ceiling, doors etc., we like our little home on wheels.

We spend a day in Christchurch. It has a compact city centre and we enjoy strolling about, watching the locals play chess with giant-size pieces in Cathedral Square and the dapper oarsmen punting tourists down the local river, the Avon, while pontificating loudly on matters of state. We stay overnight at Stonehurst, which is a backpacker hostel but also has some campervan sites. The next morning we thought a leisurely drive around the Bank’s Peninsula, to the east of Christchurch, would be a good start. Instead it turns out to be New Zealand’s answer to the Conor Pass - steep, narrow roads snaking around steep headlands. It’s very picturesque but the driving is tricky.

If you want to see more photos, click here.