Farewell New Zealand

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As I finished my last week at work things started to feel a bit somber on the inside, while on the outside few moments were spent apart from the gang. On the last day the office had a send off with generous gifts and a table of food. Our last night in Wellington was spent in the best way possible; namely, eating copious amounts of good food with friends while talking late into the night. In the morning the inevitable bittersweet farewells took place, and Brent and I crossed the Cook Straight with our car on a ferry. As I watched Wellington slowly fade from view from the deck of the boat, I mulled through my memories of New Zealand and my hopes for the future.

Our trip on the South Island began with a hike through the coastal Abel Tasman National Park. We then drove south to Greymouth to rendezvous with another friend from Wellington named Jason Jones. Thankfully Jason made some music tapes for the trip. Prior to Jason’s arrival, Brent and I had gone for months with only one tape in the car (‘Off the Wall’ by Michael Jackson) that played almost constantly. The three of us followed the road south along the west coast with frequent stops to take in the surrounding beauty. When we came to the Franz Josef glacier we decided to have a climb. As we approached the glacier, we learned that we had actually missed an ice explosion by about thirty minutes, and there were large chunks of ice debris from the explosion littering the valley floor.

That evening we were tired and racing against the fading daylight to find a ‘free’ camp site. Without giving it too much thought, we drove onto a soggy field near a lake and put up the tent. Once we were tucked in, torrential rains began to fall and continued for six hours. Eventually Brent and Jason awoke to discover that the tent was essentially floating in eight inches of water. When we tried to make an escape at 3:45 am, the car ended up getting stuck. Brent and Jason pushed while I slung mud with the accelerator, and we eventually made it to the road, albeit soaked and miserable. As we drove on and began to think that we could actually relax, somebody turned on the car’s interior dome light and we saw that there were hundreds of mosquitoes on the ceiling of the car. We continued along frantically smashing mosquitoes while struggling to see the road through the intense rain. The night ended with a covert ‘free shower’ in a hostel that had fortunately left a back door unlocked.

The rest of the trip was magnificent and we were blessed with consistently pleasant weather that is rare in the southwest of the country. On the way to Milford Sound, we passed through the eerie Homer Tunnel. The tunnel is about a mile long and travels through a solid granite mountain with no internal supports or lights. The knowledge that Milford Sound experiences more than one hundred earthquakes a week does little to ease the minds of those driving through the darkness. Once we arrived at the sound we took a cruise among the Fjords (see pictures).

Next on the agenda was a 65 kilometer four day camping trek through Fjordland on the Kepler Track. The walk took us over alpine ridges, and through Fjord valleys and temperate forests. After the hike we convalesced in Te Anau and then went into the Alps once again to visit Mt. Cook. That evening I was looking at the Alps at dusk when I heard what sounded like thunder. As I looked closer, I noticed it was actually the sound of an avalanche coming down the mountainside. It was comforting to know that the mountains were many miles away.

We eventually ended up in Christchurch where we sold the car within two hours.

I am off to Singapore in a few days.

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