See the Fox and Do It Anyway

Time for a challenge, anyone? From Queenstown we headed for Wanaka, a small town about two hours north, along a series of ridiculously windy roads (did I mention we were out late the night before?). It's a cute enough place, surrounding (surprisingly) Lake Wanaka, and among its attractions is Puzzling World, a quirky place for those fond of getting lost. The main draw is a large maze when adults and kids alike wander around (unfortunately its a wooden construction, in my opinion any proper maze should consist of hedges), looking for the four corners, before finding their way out again. Myself and Sib (Claud was asleep in the back of the car), managed to find three, then decided it was too hot and we were too tired, and so we nipped out the emergency exit. There is more however.....a series of rooms with optical illusions, which mess with your mind, to put it mildly! In the main room people were literally stumbling around clinging onto the walls because everything appears to be slanting a different way to which your eye perceives it. Headache inducing stuff, but good fun. We drove on, passing unbelievable scenery, including Haast Pass, a stunning gorge in the middle of the mountains, until we hit the coast again. From there it was a few more hours drive to the township of Fox - the home of Fox's Glacier mints, and more importantly Fox Glacier! We had all signed up to do a full day hike on the glacier, but Claud opted out because her ankle was acting up (remember that Sydney injury?). After a long day of driving, we collapsed into bed and tried to mentally prepare for the day ahead....
When we arrived in the Glacier centre the next morning, everyone around us was appropriately dressed for a two day hike in the Andes - the best myself and Sib could come up with was three quarter length exercising pants and a hoody. We were brought into the equipment room and by the time we were sufficiently geared up, I was thanking my lucky stars that the man of my dreams wasn't among our group. The aforementioned yoga pants were now tucked into thick grey socks my grandad would have been proud of, over which were a pair of battered hiking boots which made my feet look like a size thirteen, and the entire ensemble was topped off by a lime green jellybag hat. Work it baby. Work it!
There were about 12 other people in our group (including a crazy and incredibly tall woman from Holland who kept asking ridiculous questions for the first three hours of the day); we all bundled into a fairly banged up truck and were driven to the carpark at the base of the Glacier. Our guides for the day were Anthony and Passang. Passang hails from Nepal, and clearly spent his childhood running through treacherous mountain gorges, because he bounced over that Glacier like it was a football pitch. Andrew, on the other hand, was far more careful and a little scared looking, and we later learned that it was his first time leading a full day hike. A professional operation then so.
Before we could actually get to the base of the Glacier we spent about an hour and a half walking up a mountain path. This was without doubt the toughest part of the day; the glacial valley in which Fox is located is in the middle of a temperate rain forest (the only other one of this kind is in Patagonia, which I'll hopefully be able to tell you about in a few weeks!), which means the surrounding area is actually quite warm. Which also means there is little need for a wooly hat, a hoody and two t shirts when you're climbing up a steep pathway! As a result we were all roasting by the time we had a good view of the glacier, and even when we were on the ice it was surprisingly pleasant most of the time.
We were given crampons (spiky thinigies) to attach to the bottom of our shoes as soon as we got onto the ice, and from there we were pretty much led by our two guides. They were a few steps ahead of us at all times, and Anthony's main job was to carve steps out of the ice with a giant axe, to make it easier for us to navigate the ice. I think he was a bit too good to us to be honest, and I'm sure we could have gotten by with a lot less axe work on poor Tony's behalf. They first led us through this huge crevasse in the ice, which was stunning, but a little dangerous, so we eventually had to turn around and double back on ourselves. Every now and again Passang would get a little over excited by some dodgy ice formation, and suggest leading the group in its direction; usually Anthony managed to talk him out of it. The crevasse detour took up most of the morning, and by the time we were back out of it, it was almost time for lunch.
The topography of the glacier changed all the time; intially it was quite steep, but then we were on flatter areas after lunch, then some steeper parts again. We passed by some giant moulins (holes in the ice), as well as arches and more crevasses. We were really surprised by how high up we actually got - to the blue ice at the top. The views were amazing, and there was a great sense of accomplishment to it all.
Again, the trek back down the mountain path was the toughest bit - we were boiling and knackered by the time we got back to the bus! Wobbly legs all round. It was a fantastic day though, and unlike anything we have done over the last nine months. We headed back to the hostel where Claud was waiting, and went to the closest cafe where I had the most delicious chicken enchilda of my life, followed by coffee and cookies. Oh, and a celebratory beer! Ahhhh, perfect.
I'm not sure if it was a strike of madness or genius, but we decided we would get the flock out of Fox and drive a few hours north, mainly to reduce the amount of hours we'd have to spend on the road the following day. I never thought I would miss the M1 motorway, but good lord there are times I have yearned for it in New Zealand. There are NO straight roads in this country; they make look relatively normal on the map, but the main routes are generally a series of seemingly endless s-bends winding up and down the moutains. And in the South Island there is very little settlements between major points, so looking for accomodation can be a little tiring. We dedided we would stop for the night in a small town called Ross - we pulled up outside some dodgy looking tavern, but kept on going when some of the two headed locals sitting at the bar glanced sideways in our direction. Just a few more metres up the road there was a tiny sign for a motel, and low and behold there was a little New Zealand mammy waiting to welcome us in for the night. She even gave us a discount rate because we couldn't afford the full price! The room was huge and lovely, with big comfy beds, a kitchen unit and a tv. I LOVE motels. The only thing missing was a masseuse to tend to our aching bones.....

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