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Published: January 30th 2011
Many people name their cars. Although everyone has their own reason for doing so, it is usually to establish a closer bond with an inaminate object, and at the same time associate the car with a name that matches it's 'personality'. Normally these names carry connotations of speed, style or sophistication......'the blue bullet', 'Kiki' or 'The Green Goddess'. However if ever a car was to be named 'Alan', it is the 1989 Subaru Toyota Camry that Mike bought in Picton on an overcast, drizzly December afternoon. Alan may not be the flashiest to look at and is 'getting on a bit', but he is solid, dependable and yawns extravagantly whenever you open the boot. So, Mike, 'Alan' and I were ready to hit the road, with the only question being where to buy cassette tapes........
After a couple of days relaxing in Picton, we picked up Serena and Ronja, two German girls that I had met in Wellington who wanted to share some of the travelling costs with us for a week or two in the South Island. We crammed Alan to bursting point with ridiculously large backpacks, saucepans and BBQs, and set off for Robin Hood's bay, a beach
where we knew we could camp for the night. After a questionable decision was made to pitch the tent in the middle of a field during a buffeting gale, we awoke bleary-eyed and sodden to drive to Nelson through a misty, brooding morning. After a night in an amazing hostel in Nelson (where I was delighted to bump into several friends from Wellington), we set off for Collingwood, at the far north of the South Island.
Now by writing 'we set off for....' it usually indicates that there was some sort of a plan, or at least a final destination. We didn't. In fact, when travelling with Michael Patrick Michael Egan, you rarely do. Mike finds it difficult to think more than an hour in advance, and needs constant reminding of prior arrangements. The positive side to this is that life is never boring and is frequently exciting, enabling acts of spontanaeity and encounters that coudn't be achieved through meticulous planning. A perfect example of this would be when we arrived in collingwood at 8pm with nowhere to stay. After ringing a couple of hostels, we arrived at a homely, ecological farmhouse in the middle of nowhere with freshly
baked apple strudel, fertiliser-toilets and a bath tub next to the stream. Kudos to Michael.
However, as someone who has been raised as a bit of a 'control-freak' and has parents who have undoubtably already planned next Thursday's dinner, it takes a while for me to adjust to this 'wherever the wind takes us' ethos. Indeed I am frequently ridiculed for clutching a lonely planet wherever I go. However I think my breaking point was when after realising we had approximately 50-80 km of fuel left for a 70 km journey in deepest, darkest back-country, Mike declared (despite us having the opportunity to re-fuel) 'Let's go for it....if we break down, it'll be an adventure!'.
Nevertheless, I think Mike would admit that I have become a lot more easy going in my attitude towards travelling, and relish 'free-styling'. However as we began to accumulate more miles on the road, it became apparent that, somewhat surprisingly, NZ isn't a country where it is easy to be spontaneous. Many accomodation requires prior booking, even many DOC (Department Of Coservation) campsites. Petrol stations and supermarkets are often scarce in wilderness areas, which requires forward planning. Also, the hiking in NZ is
often a source of frustration for me as someone who is used to waking up in the morning and planning a hike depending on weather conditions. For all the great walks and many others, they must be booked weeks to months in advance, when of course there is no indication as to the nature of the weather. Many of the huts are heavily booked, and sometimes you will be required to pay up to $50 for one night in a great walks hut! However DOC officials would reply that this is neccessary to restrict erosion and congestion on what are extremely popular routes, and this is undoubtably the case. At the peak of summer you really do notice the swell in population, as the resident population of 4million almost doubles with the influx of the tourists from around the globe.
As we travelled around the north of the south island, I often experienced a feeling of familiarity. We would journey through rolling pasture and dotted woodland, reminiscent of the rolling hills of Shropshire. The golden-yellow, crescent beaches of the Abel Tasman took my mind back to the beaches of Devon and Cornwall of my childhood. However, that is where
the comparison ends. For a start, the weather during summer is far more consistent, with far more 'beach days'. The landscape is also grander, with towering mountains that dwarf the Snowdens and Scar Fells, empty plains that roll to the horizon and wildlife such as penguins and dolphins that rarely come near UK shores.
A perfect example of NZ nature was during our stay in Collingwood, when we travelled to Whaeriki beach near to Farewell Spit. After taking a detour due to flooding of the road, we scrambled down hills (sliding on her bum in Serena's case), waded through swollen rivers and hopped through sand dunes to the beach itself, windswept and raw. We stumbled upon seals masquerading as rocks, and Mike had a hilarious encounter with an indignant oyster catcher (a bird, not a fisherman!), who proceeded to swoop in attack , evidently to protect it's young. This is the best that NZ has to offer, where un-spoilt beauty, nature and isolation all merge to form a unique experience that I have rarely found elsewhere.
There followed several days of a similar ilk as we explored the Golden Bay area and spent a couple of nights in
the Abel Tasman National park at Totaruni campground, complete with BBQs, walks through the bush and golden coves and nights under the stars.
Christmas was always going to be a different experience, not only as it was my first in the Southern Hemisphere but also as Ronja and Serena intended to celebrate on the 24th December, as they do in Germany. We arrived on Christmas eve at Kekerengu, on the east coast between Kaikoura and Blenheim, where Mike had worked for four months and had a collection of friends with who whom we would spend the festive period. After a fun evening of delicious veggy lasagne (German style) and a few drinks, I awoke in the tent to bright sunshine, and yet the sound of christmas songs and excited present wrapping from the house. It was made even more confusing by the morning skype with mum and dad, where they were wrapped up to the eyeballs, with snow in a thick layer outside.
Mike and I prepared a platter for lunch and then proceeded to have a great day split between the beach and the house of Karen and Stacey, where we played cricket, had an impromptu waterfight
(in the house!!) and a late evening Hangi. For those of you not familiar, a hangi is a Maori tradition where a pit is dug and a fire started, where rocks are heated until they are white hot. They are then placed into the pit, whereupon a parcel of meat and vegetables is placed upon the stones. The parcel is wrapped in wet cloth, which when heated, creates steam which cooks the food. The pit is then covered with the earth that had been scooped out, and left for anything from 5-7 hours. To serve, the parcel is simply unwrapped and placed on the table, where everyone digs in. In our Hangi we had a range of meat including beef, chicken, wild pork and mutton, accompanied by potatoes, carrots and parsnips. It was really a novel take on the Christmas meal and a carnivores delight....perhaps not ideal for our vegetarian guests however!!
After dropping the girls in Blenheim to continue their travels independently, Mike and I had a couple more days in the Kekerengu area before we travelled down to Kaikoura. The surrounding coastline is the perfect example of stunning landscape blending effortlessly with nature; craggy mountain-sides sweep down
to the rugged shoreline, where angry waves crash against the shore in defiance. However it is the headland that branches into the pacific that provides a fantastic nature walk. We walked along the beach at low tide past drowsy seals, thousands of rowdy seagulls, gliding shags, thankfully passive oystercatchers and even a random swan! The cliffs and rocks were carved in a manner that I had never seen, and eventually flattened into a beach that provided us with yet more views back to Kaikoura and led us onto the cliffs, where we completed the circuit back to the car.
After a truely epic drive, we arrived the next day in Queenstown, again staying with some of Mike's friends. Queenstown is often described as a 'Playground for adults', and doesn't disappoint. I defy anyone to find an adventure sport that isn't catered for in the surrounding area; adrenaline junkies will not be disappointed! After a day walking around Arrowtown, we headed to Glenorchy with Christina, a friend of mine from Wellington. The Glenorchy area is a stunning area where snow-capped mountains reach skywards from the lake, and which provided a lot of scenery for films such as Lord of the
Rings and Wolverine; Mike was delighted to pass the spot where apparently Wolverine's house exploded!
However, the senery wasn't the only reason that I was excited about Queenstown.....I was to do my first hang-glide! After initially being postponed due to high winds, the flight was re-arranged for New Years day. In hindsight this perhaps wasn't the best idea, especially as I had awoken that morning on a roundabout after getting slightly carried away in the previous night's festivities! Nevertheless, I soon perked up and journeyed up to the peak of Mt Coronet where the jump was to take place. My nerves were put into perspective by the sight of a petrified American man, who had been co-erced into doing his first Paraglide by his wife. He was truely terrified, and had four aborted attempts to take off as he clung desperately to solid ground. Thankfully he eventually took off (and thoroughly enjoyed the experience) and it was my time. Auf, my German instructor, was extremely clear and helpful, and prepared me for the take-off routine. On cue, we bounded towards the edge and lept into thin air. It was an exhilarating experience; you really do feel like a bird
as you are positioned with your face towards the ground, where you can in fact see the actual birds swirling in the thermals far below. Auf showed me his repertoire of party-tricks, and then let me take the reigns (I had obviously neglected to tell him of my antics the night before......is there such an offence as drunk and gliding!?). My favourite part was the descent, as you suddenly plummet face first to the ground until the wheels absorb the impact and return you to earth. Despite being in the air for less than 15 minutes it felt a lot longer, and is an experience I would be keen to repeat in the future.
After a thoroughly enjoyable week in Queenstown, we bid farewell to all of the guys, and headed to Te Anau. We booked some kayaking on Milford sound, and spent a couple of days slowly advancing up the Milford road towards Milford Sound itself. It truely is one of the best drives in the world, as the highway twists through sunlit-woodland and open plains, with the backdrop increasinly becoming dominated by mountains, each one a little-more craggy and snow-capped. It is hard not to feel a
little humble here; nature is firmly in charge, and regularly closes the road due to landslides and avalanches. We spent the night camping on a pebble beach at lake Gunn, and spent the evening playing Monopoly on the beach with an Israeli/Dutch couple watching a sublime pinky orange sunset slip over the horizon. The next day's drive was even more stunning, as the road draws closer to sheer rock faces and the raging river. As there is little top-soil on the mountains here, a heavy rainfall totally changes the landscape. Dozens of waterfalls suddenly appear, and the fjords in particular echo with a cachophony of raging water. My personal highlight is the glacier just before the Homer tunnel, wher you can walk underneath a towering waterfall. We eventually arrived in Milford, camped for the night and prepared for an early start kayaking.
We awoke to a misty, hesitant morning with light drizzle. The mountains were swathed in clinging cloud, but the tops were still visible. As we were pretty much the only ones on the sound for a couple of hours, the silence and stillness was powerful, with the only backdrop the sound of rushing water and dipping paddles.
Whorry, our guide, took us underneath waterfalls, past seal colonies and a beach full of protected greenstone until we eventually reached the opening into the Abel Tasman sea. It was quite a long kayak and I was thankful that we had a lift on a boat back to Milford itself!
Here things took an unexpected turn; after hearing over a pint the previous evening that there were a couple of bar/cafe jobs going in the area, we popped in to enquire about the possibility. An enquiry turned into an informal interview, which within two hours had resulted in a job offer and us moving all of our belongings into the staff living accomodation*! It seemed like an amazing place to work and explore in time off, and also a good opportunity to save some money without the temptations that civilisation provides!
So, randomly, here we are in Milford! I'm enjoying the bar work, serving locals and tourists. Although obviously I intend to return to education in the near future, it's nice to have a change of job during the school holidays, and still interact with people everyday. I have just returned from a trip to see mum and
dad on the North Island which will form the basis of the next blog, as this one is already far too long!
I hope that everyone is well, keep the comments coming as I love to read them!
I would also like to give a shout out to Mike's Grandma "Peg', who I hear is a big fan of the blog.....I hope you enjoy this latest installment! And Madeline, don't worry; I have confiscated Mike's oxygen tank, so no drink-diving for him haha!!
*My favourite part of the VERY informal interview was this exchange with Mike and Doug, the tough scottish interviewer, where Mike showed that punctuality was perhaps not his strong point;
Doug: I see you have a flight to Australia in early April, wouldn't that restrict the amount of time that you could offer us?
Mike: Oh no, don't worry player, I've missed loads of flights mate, sure I could miss another one!
Punctuality.....0!
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Sue morgan
non-member comment
Pining for the fiords.
I am so jealous. You bring back alot of memories and also hint at things that weren't there when I was thi..rt..y years ago... Monty Python was the comedy of the moment and I recollect a very long car ride to the conversation of dead parrots, aardvarks and other silly things. I did get to the top of the cable car but there was certainly no hang gliding - it sounds wonderful. Enjoy the bar work - everyone should do it at some time in their life and give my love to your mum and dad when you next see them. Love Sue