Day 5 - already? Queenstown...

There was fresh snow on the mountaintops this morning, and the air was fresh - a typical autumn day for me weather-wise, but the locals were shivering, saying it was way too early for this cold weather. However, I had promised myself a couple of days ago that I would take my time driving back up to Queenstown, and take in the incredible view, especially north of Kingston, and this seems the perfect weather for that. The road is one of the few that I've seen that actually hugs the mountainside, with rocks on one side and Lake Wakatipu on the other. This is a main highway, yet it's made primarily of tar and chip, and is only two lanes (one on the bridges). In some places, the speed limit is 35 kph, rather than the standard 100. As you can see, it's probably warranted.

I finally arrive in Queenstown, a couple of hundred pictures later, and find myself in a place that seems somewhat European, with narrow, winding, steep streets, and "No Vacancy" signs everywhere, especially along the most scenic areas. I find a reasonable place (a hotel suite, complete with kitchen and within easy walking distance of the core, for a very reasonable rate, and what the heck, I'm on vacation, I deserve a couple of nights with a jacuzzi tub!), and book it for two nights. There is so much to explore here, so I better get going! It's already after 1 p.m.

As I drive out of Queenstown to explore the countryside, I happen across one of the little one-lane bridges that are so common here. Crossing the bridge, I notice how high up it is, and the beautiful blue water in the gorge below. The parking lot on the other side of the bridge is for one of the many jet-boat adventures I'd heard about. I walk over to the bridge and take a few shots, noting how narrow the gorge is, and yet how shallow the water. Then I realize that this is the water that the jet boats are skimming along at very high speeds. I simply must check this out after watching one do a 360 almost right beneath the bridge. http://www.shotoverjet.com/

And now that the weather has warmed up and the sun is out, it seems like the perfect time. What a blast! We scoot along at about 35-50 knots in some places, and the boats are designed to be able to stop almost as quickly as they accelerate, using impulsion (instead of propulsion) technology. We spin around inches from the rock walls, and in less than a couple of feet of water. I have a video that I'll post to Facebook but if you click the link above, and then click the video right on the home page, you'll see what it's like.

After the ride, I decide to head up to Arrowtown, a small, historic village that was recommended to me, especially for the drive. Passing signs like "Alpaca Poo $2.00/bag", I finally find the village, and it is crawling with people. Cars line both sides of every street, all the way to the edge of town. People are walking or cycling everywhere, and I decide it's not worth it to find a parking spot, but can return tomorrow. I find out later that there's a special cycling race going through there today, and the village will be empty tomorrow. One of many things to put on the list.

On the way back to Queenstown, I find a great spot to shoot "The Remarkables", a range of mountains that is exceptionally beautiful for their ruggedness. The highest peaks are over 2300 meters high. It's the darkest range in this shot.

OK, time for tea (or dinner). I check in to the hotel, and then grab my camera to explore the town itself. The walk to the town centre is short and all downhill, but I question my sanity when I look back up at where I've come from. I have to walk back again, after all. But it's worth it. Downtown Queenstown is a happening place, and if I wasn't so tired, I would consider joining one of the bar crawls. But for now, I just want to eat, then go back to my room. Uphill. As I overheard one person say, "In Queenstown, everything is uphill". Well, everything except the harbour I suppose. But that's for tomorrow.

Doubtful Sound - no doubt

This was a day of new perspectives. Almost a paradigm shift. Seeing a part of the world that hasn't changed really since it was first discovered by the Europeans (Cook - the Maori didn't bother with this area as it was too cold and too hard to get to), was quite an eye-opener. Doubtful Sound, other than the odd tour boat, remains untouched by man, and always will due to the fact that it is a National Park and thus protected. Let me start at the beginning of the day.

The sound of pouring rain woke me before the alarm, so I laid in bed a little longer. By the time I had my shower and was ready to leave for Manapouri to pick up the ferry, the sun was out. It was quite cool (8 C) and the wind chill was probably closer to 0 C. A bit of low cloud over the mountains, which will hopefully burn off, but might make the light interesting for taking pictures.

Driving along the road to Manapouri, I find myself having to remember to breathe, as each curve in the road reveals a bigger, more beautiful scene. It seems impossible not to believe in a higher power when faced with such evidence.

We board the ferry that will take us across Lake Manapouri, about a 45 minute ride, to West Arm. This is the site of the Manapouri power station, which we will tour later, and that's a story in itself. From the West Arm landing, buses will take us across Wilmot Pass and down the other side of the mountain to the top end of Doubtful Sound. Another, larger boat, will take us through the Sound and out to the Tasman Sea.

I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.

Day 2 and 3

Weird, it's Thursday evening here, but I know at home it's only Wednesday. And not only did I skip a day by crossing the date line, but my situation last evening meant that I was unable to connect and post my day's adventures. So, here goes...

Day 2

The fog of jet lag #1 has faded, and the view from the window when I waken removes all doubt that it really is New Zealand that will be home for the next few days. Row upon row of grape vines stretch across the valley, and the sky is bright and clear over the mountains (oops, hills here). The morning starts with a lazy breakfast and is topped with a flat white - the perfect blend of espresso coffee and steamed milk. Then it's off to catch the scenic train to Christchurch.

This is a definite must for anyone who comes to NZ. (And yes, it's Enn Zed, not Zee). The carriages (not cars) are about half windows, and there is even an open observation car, for a full view of the incredible scenery. The trek from Belnheim to Christchurch follows the eastern coastline for much of the way, and we are treated to huge tidal splashes against the rocks, mountainous terrain, and fur seals sunning themselves.

But the real treat was the variety of terrain. Flat farmland gave way to huge hills where sheep and alpaca, cattle and deer grazed. And each tunnel through a mountain was a doorway to a new world - the end of the tunnel revealed a completely different scene from the entrance to the tunnel.

Day 3

An early morning saw me board a plane to Queenstown from Christchurch. My heart sank when I found that I was seated in the middle of the row of seats - fore of the wing but not close to the window. And it was cloudy. And it appeared that I would miss what many had told me would be a fabulous view of much of the south island, including Mount Cook.

The wonderful lady (thanks again Polly!) who was booked in the window seat graciously traded seats with me (poor schmuck Canuck), and then when the sun broke through the clouds, pointed out the various landmarks. So I got to see Mount Cook after all. Boy, that's going to be another week the next time I visit this country, it's absolutely spectacular. Even this time of year (end of summer), the top half of the mountain is covered in snow. Very much like the Rockies that I saw only a couple of days ago. And of course, I had left my camera in the overhead, in behind three other people's bags.

Queenstown airport is tucked between two mountain ranges, and passengers are warned that the pilot has to get pretty close to the mountains in order to turn around and line up for the runway. After landing, this becomes even more noticeable. And the signs really bring home the fact that everything here seems upside down and backwards.

It's rainy and chilly, so different from yesterday. Perfect day to do a bit of driving and go down to Te Anau. Perhaps I'll have enough time today to see the glow worm caves. It doesn't take long to figure out the the car is backwards, but not upside down, and off I go south on what they actually call a highway here. More like a country road back home, but that's ok. It's wide enough that the hairpin turns don't really seem all that dangerous. I promise myself that the trip back will take several hours longer so that I can stop and take pictures.

Te Anau, although very small, has lots to offer for food, and I find a small cafe that serves torpedoes and salad for lunch. It's very chilly here for this time of year, about 8 C., although it's no longer raining as it was for much of the drive. I get a boarding pass for the tour to the caves, and find a place to stay for a couple of nights.

The boat ride up Lake Te Anau reveals just how stark and unspoiled this country is, although really, the side of the lake on which I focus is part of Fjordlands National Park.

The caves are an experience like none other, there are no cameras allowed, not because of the darkness, but because the noise would scare the glow worms. We hike part way into the cave, then a dozen or so at a time get into very tiny boats, all light is extinguished, and we must be very quiet so as not to disturb the worms. Their tiny little lights spread across the "ceiline" of the caves, and we silently coast along the cave river to the dark grotto that is home to several thousand of these little larvae.

The effect is quite surreal, and reminds me that we could just as easily be looking up at a night sky full of stars.

When we emerge from the caves, the sun has broken through and the air is a little warmer. When we get back to the dock, I decide to do a little exploring, and just a brief drive through the area reveals a beautiful little wildlife sanctuary, where I find a Kekeru (both a wild one, as well as a protected one), and another protected area that hosts a beautiful Takahe.

So, now with my tummy full of lamb (yes again), wine (of course) and pavlova with blueberries, I need to catch some sleep, as I must be in Manapouri by 9 a.m. tomorrow to catch the tour to Doubtful Sound. More later!

Finally here!

I arrived in Auckland this morning before it was light out, so my first impression of this island country was of a lighted runway only. But it wasn't long before the sun came up, and I started the final leg of my journey to Blenheim in a small Q300. At first, it seemed there was nothing out of the ordinary. What I saw was mostly farmland, cattle grazing and the end-of-the-season barren fields. But it wasn't long before the view, even from 20,000 ft, was spectacular. These rivers of clouds filled in the deep impressions between the hills, and the early morning sun accentuated the landscape.








Flying along the west coast of the North Island showed increasingly high hills, but it was difficult to gauge the height of the hills until we approached the south island. The cloud cover had still not dissipated, and my first glimpse of the south island were these fabulous cliffs that dropped directly into the ocean.

Getting off the plane, the first thing I noticed was that there were hills all around, and driving along the "highway" to the home of my hosts, besides the hills (I thought they were mountains), were palm trees and logging trucks. And vineyards, everywhere. Being in the middle of the Marlborough region, which is quickly becoming known worldwide for it's wonderful Sauvignon Blanc wines, is an experience like none other. Huge expanses of grape vines, surrounded by these huge hills and palm trees.

When we reached the home of my friends, with whom I'll be staying for a couple of days, I was quite impressed with the view from their patio.

Later, while dining on lamb and sipping some lovely wine on the same patio, we watched the sun dance across the top of the hills, sending rays of light skyward from behind the trees and vines and hills as it sank to it's bed. Sitting here in my shorts and t-shirt and hearing nothing but a light breeze and the ducks splashing about on the pond, I know that I've made the right choice for vacation. It's beautiful and peaceful here.

Starts with a single step...

Wow. They say that every journey starts with a single step, and as I flew towards Calgary with the brilliant morning sun behind us shining on the Rockies it seemed as though my first step was one of several hundred miles. Helped by a jet of course. But looking at those mountains, glistening with snow and ice and rising out of the landscape like a giant wall, I had to think that the pioneers of this big country must have looked at that and, as they got close enough to see how huge they were, thought "Oh crap".

We now have the advantage of being able to fly over them, but those mountains are huge, and even from the air, seem impassable. How fortunate that there were people of such great fortitude and strength to explore and conquer them. As the gentleman in the seat behind me said "I bet there are still a few skeletons down there".

We left the sun behind and flew into clouds about halfway across BC, and landing in Vancouver was quite surreal. Typical Vancouver weather greeted us and it was gray and rainy all day. Still is. Not to be deterred, I quickly procured a day pass for the public transit system and hopped aboard the new Canada Line from the 4th level of CYVR airport. It only took about 35 minutes to get downtown Vancouver and see things like BC Place:

And the cherry blossoms blooming.

Now, back at the airport, drying off from being soaked (thank goodness I remembered that umbrella), and actually looking forward to being off my feet for a few hours, I'm looking at the Boeing 747 that will carry me across the Pacific for my second step of this journey. It will take me from this early spring of western Canada to the early autumn that is arriving in the sourthern hemisphere. I'm hoping that I'll maybe see a few colored leaves in the deep south. It's finally starting to seem real.

One more sleep...

Wow, now that it's this close, I'm getting as excited as a little kid the night before going to the circus. I'm pretty sure I won't see elephants and tigers this time around, but I know I'll see things I've never seen before.
So, one more sleep? Well, one more sleep before I leave, but it's likely that there will be a few sleeps between now and the time I reach my final destination for the beginning of my first, big, new adventure. New Zealand. It seems very unreal, even though I have all my plane e-ticket receipts, everything is looked after, I've packed well, and oops, I forgot my umbrella, hang on...
OK, now my list is complete. I think. Still can't believe it. In a couple of days, I'll be on the other side of the world, sitting on the side of a mountain, having a glass of sauvignon blanc and enjoying the laughter of friends.
Then, it will be a few days of exploring a little corner of the world, about the furthest corner imaginable.
Come along with me! I can't fit you all in my suitcase, but I'll try to put a little bit of my trip here so you can share until I get back.
See you soon.

Earthquakes, Tsunamis, what else?

When the news came recently that the massive earthquake in Chile caused tsunamis across the Pacific, it was horrifying to think of the destruction that must have meant. I know no one in Chile, although my prayers are with all who have been impacted there. However, the news was that tsunamis had been seen as far away as New Zealand - and where there is one earthquake there are usually more. So I wrote to my friends and queried what the impact had been to them. Fortunately, the waves were nothing more than what I've seen on Lake Huron during a summer storm, about 4-5 feet high. They cleared people off the beaches until the wave passed, and there was no damage.

Because New Zealand is so mountainous, it would take a tsunami the size that hit Indonesia a couple of years ago to cause much more than shoreline damage. But I did a little reading and learned that there is volcanic activity, including an eruption as recently as 2000, on the north island around Rotorua. And that they have occasional tremors there, similar to California. So it is possible that I could experience a force of nature that I am unaccustomed to, in the next few weeks.

Since most of my time will be spent on the south island however, I anticipate that my biggest challenge will be learning how to drive on the wrong side of the road and the wrong side of the car. As Bridget says "your feet are the same" - I'm hoping she meant the gas pedal and brake are where I'm used to having them, as that would totally mess me up if they were backwards too. Although maybe she meant that my actual feet were the same. How did she know that I have 2 left feet? Oh dear, this could be interesting.