New Zealand

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Yis, I would like Fush and Chups. And find me a Hobbit!

Leaving Sydney, they complained at the airport that we hadn't printed off our itinerary. Apparently, the phrase e-ticket didn't mean anything to this brainless, inbred motherf...ellow. I found Australians to generally be welcoming, friendly and unpretencious, though we also encountered some that could barely be classed as human, for appearance and stupidity. One pointless argument later, which he had no chance of winning, we got aboard. Arrival into New Zealand was smooth, except for some carpet fluff that Áine had to have removed from her shoe. Biosecurity is serious. They determined that there was nothing alive or of plant origin in the fluff, and we went through. I released the 7 breeds of European frogs and a nasty little crop-killer locust just outside the doors.



We took the public bus to town, and made the short walk to the hostel. Even along that stretch, the devastation of the Christchurch earthquake was obvious. There were empty lots, where the buildings fell or were torn down later; there were sealed buildings, awaiting assessment; most prominent were several churches, which seemed to suffer some of the worst damage. Also, 7 blocks of the CBD are just closed while buildings are demolished or repaired. Christchurch is picking up and getting on with it, though it is a city on hold - many businesses are making no money at all while their offices are closed. Don't ask me how the insurance companies or government funds will cover this. 30,000 people have left the city in search of employment elsewhere. Christchurch to me seemed like a small version of Perth, quiet but lovely. The people were very friendly; at Canterbury House, where we stayed, the owner Alan drew out some routes for us in New Zealand, writing on locations of points of interest.



We picked up the camper the next morning. Unexpectedly, "Mush" was not Mitsubishi Express, but a Toyota Emina. It looked way smaller, but when you're inside the sleeping cabin space is almost the same. It was also way more comfy to drive, and it was an automatic - great for the long cruising drives. The best feature was the moonroof - on a clear night, you can lie inside in the warmth and look out at the stars. Tres romantic. It didn't seem to have any rude slogans; later, we noticed "Gurgle my balls" on the roof. On the first evening, we stocked up and headed out of the city. We saw more of the collapsed towers and slanted walls on the way out; a terrible thing. On the first night, we went as far as Lake Tekapo, camping at nearby Lake McGregor. Camping is much, much cheaper in NZ, largely due to the excellent Department of Conservation (DOC)campsites - goverment run, cheap, and with a variety of facilities for all levels of camper.The lakes are gorgeous, clean and perfectly clear, though going swimming would cost you an appendage - freezing. We cooked a coconut curry, and shared bread with the resident ducks.



Our aim in the morning was to make for Queenstown, though it didn't quite work out that way. Very fortunately, we realised that we had plenty of time, and took it handy. The day was fantastic, and we might have missed it all in our haste. First, we drove up the extreme gradient of the hills to St. John's Observatory. The telescope domes had glass doors to gawk in, but even if there had been no nerd-satisfying stuff to look at, the views alone were breathtaking. Out over the plains to the next mountain range, including Mt. Cook; down across the deep blue hue of Lake Tekapo and its neighbours. A beautiful spot. We drove on again, detouring once more to drive to the foothills of Mt. Cook. The highest mountain for, oh, a long way, Mt. Cook is forbidding, rocky and icy, poking above the clouds like a raptor's talon. It is a 55km detour both ways, past Lake Pukaki and quite a lot of sheep. The scenery is just unbelievable. We reached the end at a little town which runs in a loop, largely consisting of hotels, shops, camping outfitters, etc., then headed back out see Tasmin glacier. A ten or fifteen minute walk led up to an overlook, looking over a lake with some small lumps of floating ice. Most of the glacier lies under the water here, 200-600m of it. We had our lunch and made for Queenstown again.



And didn't get there. Instead, we got as far as Omarama, an attractive little town, and spotted some activities we wanted to partake in. For me, it was gliding. We had to wait a while before I could go up, so we decided to stop here for the night, and do the other activity later: hot tubs. The gliding was truly a unique experience. You sit in and get strapped up, right at the nose of the glider, with nothing to your sides to give the impression of substance to the thing you're sitting in. The cockpit bubble is perfectly clear, and you can open the side for natural air-con. A slow-descent parachute is part of the gear, but it's unlikely to be needed - unlike an aeroplane, there is no engine to stall. The only potential problem is "landing out", where you run out of altitude and have to land in a field. It is common enough, but not in this area - there are tons of small airfields around thanks to the practice of aerial crop dusting. In any case, we didn't have any trouble. A powered plane towed us up in a slow spiral, until around 4,000 feet, then we let the rope go with a loud clunk - if you go gliding, don't let the sound worry you. The next part was up to Ash, the instructor. When gliding in an area, you need to find thermals - upwardly blasting warm air. It usually rises off the windbeaten sides of mountains (where the rocks store the warmth of the sun and heat the passing air), as well as from a few other sources. When a thermal hits, you know all about it; it isn't turbulent at all, but the sensation of being pushed up is remarkeable. You kind of expect to fall down when the pressure stops, but the forward motion of the glider keeps you afloat. With nothing but the power of nature, we rose to almost 7,000 feet, giving us a commanding view of the valleys, lakes and small towns. Nearby, we could follow the routes of the sheep tracks atop the hills. Seeing New Zealand scenery from the ground is one thing, but floating above it...The best thing is that it was almost totally silent, just a whistle of wind and some radio chatter to interrupt the serenity. I took control of the glider for about 10 minutes, making some turns back towards the airfield. It is a lot harder than flying a plane, which I did in Ireland, requiring great coordination between hand and foot. Rudder is particularly important, if you have any intention of staying on course. Apparently, I did well enough. Ash took control again, and we glided back to earth gracefully, going a good deal faster than I would have thought. Despite landing in a field, it was very smooth; obviously why they chose the site. We came to a halt right beside the exit from the airfield: door to door service.



The adrenaline was subsiding later in the evening, so it was the perfect time to do something relaxing. The Omarama hot tubs are pretty special. Lance and Jan run a serious operation. It is not busy season, so we paid for the basic tub and got upgraded to the one with a sauna attached for free. When you go in, you get stubby coolers for your beer, iced water and glasses, a little LED lantern for when it gets dark, and towels. The tubs are all arranged so as to be hidden from each other; nude bathing is a requirement (well, almost). The view from the tub is over a small, man made lake, ducks cruising and diving along it. A very peaceful location. The tub itself is heated by a wood fire beneath you. The smell of burning wood is part of the charm here. You open a flap to throw in more wood and make the fire burn hotter, and the smoke is released through an exhaust above you. None of the parts of the system in the water is hot enough to burn you, it's totally safe. The best part was when night fell. In Omarama, there is very little light pollution, and we had a clear night. Royal blue gave way to black, and the sky unveiled its light show. More stars than we ever get to see in Ireland, as well as constellations that never venture to our northly view. We quit the pool around 10pm, and took Mush a few kilometers back the road to a free campsite for the night.



The only downside to the perfectly clear sky was that it was brass monkeys. We woke with the cold several times, finally deciding to leave at 05:30, if only to get the car heater going. Around 07:00, we stopped for a snooze for a couple of hours. After waking groggy and downing some tea, we set out for Queenstown again. We stopped in to get some fresh fruit going cheap at The Cider House, as well as a couple of bottles of their apply bliss. Queenstown was just down the road, and we stopped for coffee, internet and a sleeping bag for Áine. Got a huge, downy one, which served to keep her warm for the remainder of the trip. Queenstown was a bit unpleasant, to be honest. It reminded me a lot of Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe: overpriced, and everything selling you a tour or adventure experience. We couldn't even locate a supermarket for all the tour companies. We drove on to Te Anau, which was better, and had a fish and chip supper from a takeaway van by the lake. We booked a cruise on Milford Sound for the next day, then drove on a ways toward it to save time in the morning.



The drive to Milford Sound was quite something, with great valleys and peaks all around and limestone features, such as the falls at The Chasm, to entertain you on the way. Natural bridges and odd formations formed part of indigenous tracks through this area. At Milford Sound, we boarded the ship and took up a spot near her bow. It was windy and cold, but the place to be for views and pictures. There was entertaining commentary from a wildlife expert, and on the smooth, calm waters heading out, we saw penguins, fur seals and a variety of ocean birds. The waterfalls and rocky scenery were very dramatic, the rocks having been pushed up by tectonic collisions, though it was hard to sense scale. With the massive mountains behind, a falls twice as high as Niagra falls looked pretty small until we approached it. At the end of the sound, which is really a fjord (xxxx), we emerged into the ocean waters. It was a bit choppier, but the rocks out there were worth a look. Somewhere between the energy of the geology and that of the water, the craggiest, most fractured set of rocks I have ever seen were hewn. There was nothing between us and the Pacific ocean from there, the commentary stated, except a little known desert island, inhabited coastally by backwards tribes: Australia.



We cruised back the other side of the sound (fjord!), getting a closer look at the scenery there, including a gigantic overhang of rock which we sailed under. When we got back in, we headed for Wanaka, stopping once to gawk at Kea (native birds that eat pieces of your car), once to gawk at snow at the entrance to the road tunnel that leads to Milford (first I had seen since Morocco!), and one more time for supplies. We camped at Glendhu Bay, 11km from Wanaka. In the morning, we were going to Franz Josef glacier.



We had to make it up to the glacier centre by 3pm, so we missed out on Wanaka's cool stuff, such as a classic flight museum and a puzzleworld. We got there a little early, and signed in. At 3pm, we got our gear - they supplied hat, gloves, socks, boots, rain trousers and a big coat. Also, you get crampons for traction on the ice. It took around half an hour to reach the foot of the glacier - ten minutes on a bus, and about 20 on foot. We donned crampons and began the ascent. I didn't find it all that cold, but that may have been down to the quality gear. Our guide was "Turtle", an odd sort of chap but amiable enough. His biggest hobbies included hunting, recreational narcotics and dirty jokes. We climbed along with 3 folks from Northern Ireland, 2 Australians and two Indians. The Indian couple were newlywed, and it wasn't off to a great start. She was extremely nervous about climbing, even on gravel. He was putting her under pressure, but to be fair she could have tried a little harder. Besides, it costs $123 to do this tour, and a lot of people in India don't earn that in a month. The glacial landscape was very dramatic; great holes led deep into the ice, ending up who knows where. We climbed and crawled through some seriously narrow spaces along the way; a wrong turn in one of these tunnels could lead to a black hole of doom. On this shorter tour, we did not crest the glacier - the 6 hour tour does so - but even at the height we reached, the glacial valley below was stunning. On top, the surface of the glacier is apparently as large as the land area of Auckland city. Would like to see it, when I return.



After the climb, we took advantage of the free entry to the hot pools near the centre. They weren't natural hot springs, but they did use glacial melt water to fill the pools, at 36, 38 and 40 degrees C. We dried off and set out as the pools were closing, and made camp at MacDonalds Creek. The next morning, we headed to Westport amongst reports of bad weather coming. On the way, we passed 2000km driven. We paused to see the unique "pancake" rocks at Punakaiki, layered formations that are still something of a mystery to geology (most likely they were formed by compression of invertebrate remains, leading to mineralisation and the formation of layers of mudstone between layers of limestone). We camped just short of Westport at a DOC campground named Lyell, and shared drinks and some snacks with a large group of campers. Turned out their company was part sponsoring the opening of a cycle track spanning the entire length of the two NZ islands, supplying diggers and generators. They had come out to volunteer a couple of days work as well, clearing the trail by hand. They were a nice bunch, all the more so for sharing a local snack - whitebait fried in egg - with us. As per the reports, by late evening the rain began to pelt down.



It also pissed most of the next day. And, most annoyingly, though probably inevitable, I ran over a bird. One animal amongst all my rentals in Spain, South Africa and Australia is not a bad tally, but I hated it to happen. Tons of birds had looked to be doomed in NZ, swooping in front of the car, but I never saw them in the mirror. This one was a gonner for sure. Our goal was to head towards Kaikoura and look into the dolphin encounters there, and so we drove through the rain and camped at Puhi Puhi, just outside the town. We also stopped to send some Xmas pressies home to the families - hard to believe it was so close, though at least the weather had the decency to turn wintery.



On heading into Kaikoura the next day, we booked a dolphin encounter for 12:30. The local dusky dolphins are an inquisitive bunch, so it really doesn't disturb them to swim in their water. On the contrary, the more interesting you are, the closer they will come. To that end, when we got into the water, all manner of odd noises and motions could be observed amongst the snorkellers. The dolphins would swim up, lightning fast, and steal a look at you before zipping on. A few times, if you were lucky enough, one would swim around you in a circle - as long as you kept eye contact, they would keep playing this game, but invariably I tired before the dolphins. What was amazing was how close they would get, mostly. A few times, a mother and baby dolphin swam past; she was always closer to us, keeping him safe on the fringe. Observing dolphins in the wild is much preferable to having them caged, though one drawback is that they tend to move - a lot. We had 5 swims, a couple of which were really short as we seemingly failed to entertain the feckers. Clicking, whistling, diving, splashing, singing etc., were favoured in one spot, but ignored in others. Just goes to show the highly individual nature of these smart creatures. Above all, I got the impression that they were trying to show us how to have fun, leaping out of the water and splashing back in, turning spirals in the water and generally mucking around with hydrodynamic skin and powerful tails; I think they became bored when we couldn't emulate their behaviour.



Hot chocolate, biscuits and a hot shower later, we struck out for Momorangi, 14km from Picton. Picton is where the Interislander ferries run between the islands, and in the morning we made the crossing. As Wicked were supposed to pay for our ferry (turned out they only covered the van, the passenger fee was up to us...), we decided to pay extra to use the premium lounge. It included a hot meal, sushi, comlimentary drinks and WiFi, and nobody under 18 is allowed in the lounge. No crying babies or wailing kids. Nice. The crossing took a little over 3 hours; the Wellington traffic felt even longer. We went to a campsite 25km north, pretty well as close as we could get, and came back to Wellington the next morning. We began by browsing Te Papa, the national museum. Te Papa was impressive for its natural world exhibits, relating to earthquakes, life from the land and waters and broader geology of New Zealand. There was a preserved colossal squid and a movie about how it had been recovered - holding on to its prey, which was snagged on a deep sea fishing hook. Nobody knows exactly why it didn't just let go. They are incredible creatures, huge and long, with odd features such as pivoting hooks on their tentacles. They also had a bush area, an outdoor display on native plants. The cultural section had fantastic accounts of New Zealand colonisation - far superior to the Maori section. I'm not sure what it is about these places, but they seem to feature extremely abstract and esoteric media. You can stand in a room made to look like a starry night and listen to a Maori story, and see carvings of gods and great figures, and see reproductions of instruments and boats, all of which may begin to give you a bit of a feel for the Maori world - not a bad thing - but there is no data. Who are those gods? What are the legends of the Maori? How do they worship? What is their ancestry? What eras did those tools come from? What was the context of their usage? Who built the boats? I really felt that it was more like an art gallery than a museum, and that I learned very little of a solid, practical nature.



We departed Wellington and camped at Dannevirk that evening, lighting a fire in the pre-dug pit. Along with the rain, it was starting to get nippy in NZ. The next day, though, the weather lifted a little as we arrived at Lake Taupo. Taupo formed in the crater of a volcano, which is currently active. The town and surroundings, as well as any swimmers in the lake at the time it decides to go, are doomed. There might not even be a warning when it blows its top. Fortunately, the only evidence of the volcanic nature of the area when we visited were occasional warm areas in the nippy water, and fine, black sand on the bottom. We jumped in and snorkelled. The water was just about the clearest I have ever seen. It was incredible, you could see people swimming in the far distance, and the play of light on surface ripples projected onto the sandy floor beneath. There wasn't a whole lot of life to observe, just some tiny fish darting about; a shame, given the nakedness of the floor. We moved on to Napier up the road, and stopped there for a look at the self-styled art-deco capital of the world. Napier was devastated by an earthquake (actually the fires did the most damage - the reservoir ran dry, so firemen had no water) in the 1930's, and decided to rebuild fashionably. Today, many goveremental and functional buildings still retain the deco style, and it is a lovely place to amble around - especially in the weather we had. The beach is seperated from the last row of buildings by a stretch of grass. Beyond that, the beach is natural and unsullied by human construction. We found a whole foods store, and dined on strawberries and yoghurt by the sea. We camped near Rotorua.



New Zealand is often like Ireland in appearance, though on a larger scale. This cannot be said of the volcanic region in and around Rotorua. We went there to see their geysers and mud pools, and called their price too high. I think it is extortion to charge much more than upkeep fees to see a natural event. We headed instead for Orakei Korako, reccommended to us by one of the folks at the Lyell campsite. It was only a little cheaper, but outrage gave way to curiousity, as this was probably our only chance to see this kind of landscape. Orakei Korako is pretty amazing. The sun was out again, but the area seemed even stuffier for all the puffs of steam emerging from the depths. In a pleasant, easy, one hour stroll, you get to see geysers (if you're lucky; the big ones go every 2 or 3 hours), deposits of minerals and silica in an array of extraordinary shapes and colours (including the "artists palette", where sulpher, silica, lime, algae, etc., make a runny mix of yellows, greens and browns), deep sinkholes of boiling doom, mud pools frothing and bubbling angrily, pools of water boiling from the geothermal energy, and life stumbling on all around the drama of the land.



Another campsite, another morning. We went on the 10th to Waitomo, to try out blackwater rafting. Blackwater rafting - floating along an underwater river on an innertube, far below the surface, was invented by the guy who set up the company we went with. As we flowed along the river, we were 30-60m underground, the only sources of light being our headtorches...and the glow-worms! This beautiful natural phenomenon is caused by the excretion processes of the worm (which is actually a maggot species). The fact that the glow is caused by a maggot pooing does not detract from the experience. Maybe it enriches it, even. I don't know. What I do know is that is was beautiful to behold. Like a night sky cast in green and black, hundreds and thousands of glow-worms twinkled away on the roof of each cavern we went through. It was not all sedate oohing and aahing, though - there were two small waterfalls to leap from. Backwards. In the event, they were only very small - perhaps 2 feet and 5 feet. Jumping backwards into the dark without any idea how far you'll fall is freaky though. Also, credit where it's due - a woman in her 60's went along for the ride. Felt a little less brave for that. Having spent several days quite close to Lake Taupo, we camped up and rose early to do some driving. We stopped at Whakatane, pausing to book a later activity - diving at Poor Knight's Island! Áine bought this as my brithday present, and booked herself on the same boat for snorkelling.



The next day we went to Coromandel. Coromandel is home to the famed hot water beach, where you can dig a hole back from the tide (with a shovel rented at a hefty price - bring your own!), and watch it fill with water. Much like any beach, really, except this water is roasting, heated by underground lava vents far beneath the sand. You can sit in your hand-made hot spring, and soak up the ambience. Unfortunately for us, the ambience consisted of pissing rain, biting wind and cold. The previous night, I had been feeling really unwell - aches, pains, and a bit of a chill. We decided not to risk pneumonia, and didn't bother digging a pit. Some brave souls did take on the elements - tip my hat to them.



Come the 12th, we still had some kilometers to make up getting to Poor Knight's, so another driving day beckoned. It is important to say, I feel, that much of a travel blog consists of highlights - by necessity, as describing every kilometer would be boring, pointless and lengthy, like painting a hundred tomatoes red. Travel, however, is often largely composed of sitting around waiting, waiting to go, waiting to arrive, and just chatting and looking at the scenery. The 12th may have been spent largely in the car, in pouring rain, but I would never call it boring. Besides, we did have a highlight for the 12th - we went to see the 7m tall bottle of L+P soda in Paeroa! Lemon and Paeroa, or L+P is "world famous in New Zealand", a soda invented by a local. The company was acquired by Coca-Cola, so we had refrained from buying their product until coming here, where it was requisite. We stood beneath the mighty statue, in awe, and downed our L+P, ignoring the rain beating against us savagely. It was...ok. Sugary. Oddly, the body of the 7m L+P bottle was a reclaimed model of a rocket, built for a fair in the 60's as the world was in the grip of Moon-o-mania. These odd, kitch little things really are the bread and butter of a trip.



The 13th - my Birthday! - was, mercifully as a blogger, more eventful. We stopped along the road to do target shooting with air rifles, which Áine enjoyed, oddly. Maybe I've awoken her inner killer. Can't imagine how. We then went for a walk around the lovely Kauri Parry park, home to some fine examples of the kauri tree, a massive species that can live to be 2000 years old. Further along the road, a couple of lovely ladies pulled in next to us with a burst tire. We got it changed in the pouring rain, assisting them in removing the wardrobe from the back of their car to get at the tools. Chivalry can be hard work, but they were nice ladies, if a little batty, giving us a reccomendation for a café up the road. I just hope they made it home with that load in the back and a safestore tire. Another pause up the road in Whangerai (pronounced Fangerai, somehow), to see the huge waterfall there, and a boardwalk which took us around the canopy of native trees. In the evening, we arrived in Tutukaka, the town from which Poor Knight's trips depart. We stopped into the scuba place to fill in the paperwork, and went to Big Schnappa restaurant next door for my birthday dinner. Had a pretty decent steak; Áine had the pork loin. Nice place. Offsetting the price of the dinner, we camped free on a nearby beach. The woman working at the dive centre said it would be fine, as there was a public toilet. It turned out to be so, and we fell asleep to the sounds of the ocean.



The diving at Poor Knight's was a hell of a present. Jacques Cousteau listed the place in his top ten dive sites in the world, and rightly so. The water is cold, requiring full wetsuits, hoods, etc., but it is very clear. On my first dive - Áine was snorkelling, remember? - I followed the leader along the rocks, browsing the leafy kelp which coated the area for little fishies. Most remarkeable were the scorpionfish (tickle their chins to insult their camoflage) and the large moray eels. We went along into a large cave. It wasn't very deep, so the light from above the water let you see the boundaries. At the top of the cave we surfaced, 4 at a time, in a little area known as Bernie's Bubble. As we bobbed about, there was just room for us to take out our regs and talk, breathing air 7.4 meters below the water. You give back what you take, so after venting a little air from our tanks, we went back down and out. For once, I was doing a good job of conserving my air, so I went back into the cave again as some others were led off back to the boat. This time, the leader took a couple of us to another bubble, further back. This one was not as deep, but it had room to get out and sit on the rocks inside. Swimming up into it was tricky, as it was a narrow ascent, but worth it for the novelty. The second dive was more straightforward, with a pinnacle and no caves. We skirted along trenches of kelp and coral, checking out the thousands of tiny, colourful tropical fish, the John Dory, moray eels, snappers big and small, and scorpion fish, and a dozen other species I don't know the names of. It was a fantastic place to dive, and I would love to go again and see the deeper reefs beyond 20m.



After that, the 15th was always going to sound dull. It was though, a little bit, as all we really did was drop back Mush - our longest and best rental - to Wicked, and check in at Silver Fern backpackers in Auckland for our last two days in New Zealand. It was pissing rain, so we decided not to venture out that evening, and caught up online with some of what we had missed whilst on the road. On our last day in NZ, we went for a walk around Auckland. Luckily, the rain had eased off somewhat. We stopped first to see the church of Matthew-In-The-City. It was not so spectacular, but intersting; it had been in the news for putting up a billboard showing Mary and Joseph in bed, he looking sheepish and she disappointed. The tagline read: "Poor Joseph. God was a hard act to follow". The sign had been vandalised within hours (didn't know there was such a fundamentalist christian element in Aus/NZ until I listened to the radio stations...oh, boy...). Their replacement was on show instead. This one showed a very worried Mary, holding a positive pregnancy test. The church thinks itself brave, asking challenging questions of its own faith. I didn't linger to find out, but I reckon the conclusions would be fairly conventional - followed by a request to now hand over your cash for the greater glory, please. If people were really, genuinely asking questions of their faith, the place would be an atheist factory.



Much more interesting, and our last touristy stop in New Zealand, was the MOTAT, or Museum of Transport and Technology. We first visited their new building, housing the flight section. Among the highlights were and Avro Lancaster bomber, and the Solent Flying Boat. The latter used to fly US to Shannon, landing on the river, before the airport was built. The Solents are gigantic. There were also a variety of planes that had helped to shape NZ, such as crop dusters, post planes and RNZAF fighters. By the time we took the restored electric tram to the main campus of MOTAT, we had only 40 minutes to closing time. We made the most of it, taking in a display on tea drinking history in New Zealand - more interesting than you would think, and including the odd Victorian moustache cup - and a display on classic NZ vehicles. Most of our time here was spent looking at a display on Edmund Hillary's expedition to the South Pole. Being a transport museum, the display centered around 3 Massey Ferguson tractors adapted for use in extreme cold. 2 wheels were added, thermal shielding for the engine and cab, and some other minor adaptations, but basically they drove 3 Masseys to the pole. Awesome.



And that was it. 2 more continents remained on the trip, just a few short months. On the 17th, we departed for Honolulu. I would have to say that I preferred New Zealand over Australia; perhaps that isn't fair, though, as I missed so much of the latter. New Zealand is "doable" in 3 weeks, Australia barely so in 3 months. And New Zealand is not without its aggravations - some of the driving we encountered there was really incredible. You'd swear you were in India again, some places. For savage beauty, scenery, quality of air and water, for untouched nature, for activities, for warm welcomes and safety and food, New Zealand is a top scorer. I will return some day, and I hope to be just as thrilled then as I was this time.

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