A Trip Around the South Island

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After three weeks of fairly hard work, I was able to look into my bank account and actually see some meaningful numbers on the screen...yes I had been paid, joy!
I decided to take myself off to the South Island for an unspecified period of time, and to sample what is widely regarded as some of the best scenery not just in New Zealand, but the world.

Thanks to an early birthday present from Sarah and Peter, a driving guide book of New Zealand, I planned an epic route covering virtually every inch of the South Island.

For many years I have dreamed of going whale watching, and Kaikoura on the East Coast, a town renowned as being a whaling hotspot, presented the perfect opportunity for me to coincide my birthday celebrations and a trip out on the open waters.The journey down to Kaikoura was roughly 500km or so and that meant having to catch the inter-island ferry from Wellington to Picton. In conditions not too dissimilar to one of Ellen Macarthur's round-the-world voyages, the car and more importantly myself arrived in one piece, although I must admit at times I was half expecting the car to have been swept out to sea. The remaining kilometres were swiftly knocked off and despite the car suffering from battery issues, I arrived at the Dolphin Lodge Backpackers in Kaikoura knackered, but hugely excited for the following days excursion.

The hostel had a very homely feel to it, small and cosy, with a log fire and even a hot tub in the garden! However undoubtedly its best feature was the view. Situated only a stones throw from the beach, the melting snow capped mountains dominated the skyline and as the sun rose on a beautiful summer's morning, Kaikoura unveiled its piece de resistance for all to see.

However, the sea did not hold up its end of the bargain, rough tides meaning that all whale expeditions were cancelled for the day. So, what would this exceptionally disappointed 22 year old do for the rest of his birthday? The answer was simple...buy a few cans of the South Islands finest beer, and sit on the beach until sunset. This felt really good for a while, until supplies ran dry...and it was only 2pm.

Not wanting my birthday to be as disappointing as England's World Cup campaign, I decided to take a walk out to Kaikoura Peninsula, roughly 10km return and home to a seal colony that has posed for tourists photographs for many years with looks of 'why are you bothering me'. Unfortunately only a single seal graced the capacity crowd with its presence, and was surprisingly undeterred by the flashes of cameras as he happily basked in the sunshine.

The following morning, I was optimistic of getting out onto the seas for whale watch part two. Despite a few patchy clouds the water was certainly much calmer, however on my way to the departure building, the heavens opened. What were the odds? Soon enough the call was made that all sailings were abandoned for the day. Bugger.

On my return to the hostel and whilst consoling myself over a bowl of cereal, I was offered a freshly baked cookie by a pair of Canadian girls called Kelly and Brittany. This hand of friendship or rather this cookie of friendship spurred me back into life, and the three of us took a trip out to Ohau Peninsula where there was a walking trail that lead to what I had been told was a pretty spectaular waterfall, and a proper seal colony.

Although the weather had turned against us, the 15 minute drive was well worth it. After a short walk on a reasonably busy trail, we were greeted with the sight of at least 40 seals playing in the water, beneath the most beautiful of waterfalls. Unlike the sole seal at Kaikoura Peninsula who seemed to despise the attention, those at Ohau wholeheartedly embraced it. There must have been 3 or 4 of them who squabbled for the attention of the photographers.

On our return to town, Kelly, Brittany and I grabbed a bite to eat, discussed our various adventures and where we would be going next. I mentioned that I was heading to Hanmer Springs, not too far away from Kaikoura, and as both Kelly and Brittany had no concrete plans, I invited them along. They duly accepted and we made plans for the following day.

I had re-booked yet again for the whale watch, and was sure that this time would most certainly be third time lucky. The previous two attempts had been afternoon slots, however I felt that early in the morning the sea would be much calmer. My predictions amazingly came true (I'm never usually right!) and the conditions were certainly the best that they had been throughout my stay in Kaikoura.

I arrived at the desk and as they said the magic words of 'please make your way to the departure lounge', I honestly knew that today was going to be the day that I would get out onto the sea. After a short bus ride to the jetty, the boat departed into what were calm seas, the sun was shining and everything was perfect.

I reckon that somebody up above doesn't like me, because suddenly the conditions changed and the sea became rather rough. I have never suffered from sea sickness before, however even I was starting to feel a little ill. As a result, the call was made to return to shore only 20 minutes after departure.

Feeling extremely disappointed to have come so close to seeing a whale, I picked Kelly and Brittany up from the hostel and started the journey towards Hanmer Springs. The drive as is the way in New Zealand was extremely scenic, and in no time at all we arrived at the Hanmer Backpackers and checked in. The hostel was incredibly cosy, almost like a log cabin, and the quiet nature of the place meant that it was incredibly easy to meet people.

It was early afternoon when the three of us arrived, so we decided to go into town and book an activity. Unanimously we chose to go quad biking, and as advocate of all things four wheeled felt there was no better way of spending a nice sunny afternoon. The activity centre was only a short drive away and after spending 5 minutes or so acquainting ourselves with the quads, we were lead out into the bush. Despite being an incredibly wet and muddy experience, much of the scenery was very nice and most importantly it was bloody good fun!

That evening whilst sat around the kitchen table, I got chatting to a few of the other guests, Hannes from Tirol in Austria, Glen from Vancouver and Aisling from Croydon. As is tradition with young people, we all went to the local pub and had a really relaxing evening joking around, laughing and generally enjoying each others company.

The focal point of Hanmer Springs is the hot pools, and it is the ideal destination for many Cantabrians (people from Christchurch) to slope away from the big city and relax for the weekend. But before having the chance to indulge in a variety of boiling baths, Hannes, Aisling, Kelly, Brittany and I took a walk up a fairly steep trail to a place called Conical Hill Lookout. There we were met by really nice views overlooking the Hanmer Forest as well as the town itself.

After a string of photos up at the lookout, we made our way back down what was in fact a narrow cycle trail to the foot of the hill and towards the backpackers. Over lunch, I chatted to a couple from Glasgow called Rob and Claire, who were in New Zealand on an extended honeymoon. They had planned to go and play crazy golf and had kindly offered all of us to join in. Now I think of myself as a pretty good golfer, however sadly my efforts on the putting mats weren't so much Nick Faldo, but Dick Faldo. Despite an exquisite hole in one I was desperately bad, much to the amusement of my new friends.

With my pride somewhat dented, we headed to the hot pools which as expected were rather packed. The novelty of a relaxing spa pool soon wears off, as you realise that you are in fact in a bath with a group of strangers. Nevertheless, we spent several hours ducking in and out of a variety of pools, some with sulphur which smell like rotten eggs (apparently good for the skin), and some with a nice soothing jet stream.

That evening, after having spent hours and hours at the hot pools, Hannes, myself, Aisling, Kelly, Brittany and Glen BBQ'ed and drank together in what was a really nice way to end the trip to Hanmer Springs.

It was sad to leave Hanmer the following morning, especially as I knew I would be saying goodbye to my short-term travel companions Kelly and Brittany who were heading upto Auckland that afternoon. It was a relatively short drive to Christchurch, and after dropping the girls at the airport I made my way to my cousin Joel's house where I would be spending the next three nights.

I spent a couple of hours pottering around on Joel's computer before he and girlfriend Ella returned to the flat. I was aware of a big surprise he had planned for Ella in taking her for a sightsee and overnight stay in Wellington. However the real dilemma was keeping the element of surprise and it was then that I became aware of the master plan conjured up between Joel and Sarah.

I could tell that they had both been analysing the programmes 'Spooks 'and '24', because this exercise was planned with real attention to detail. At the precise time of 13.15, not a minute earlier or later, Sarah would call Joel saying a food parcel had arrived at Christchurch Airport. All three of us would jump in the car and go and collect the 'food parcel', with Joel and Ella actually going inside the terminal. I would drive back to the house and the two of them would jet off to Wellington hand in hand and smiling. Of course this ambitious plan couldn't be put into practice until the following day, so Joel had to sweat it out overnight.

The following morning with camera in hand, I took a walk into town to experience for myself the devastation of the February earthquake. Of course only a small amount of the city was accessible to the public with the rest of it designated the 'red zone', and as such cordoned off. However it was interesting to see how the residents were trying to re-establish a sense of normality. In the midst of one of the world's largest building sites, a makeshift mall had been constructed, and with the use of large containers that are present mainly on cargo ships, shops, cafes, bars and restaurants had been set-up. It was a busy little community, full of people, full of life and a really nice place to relax and enjoy a drink.

I headed back to the flat at about 12.45 in order for 'Operation get Ella to the airport' to commence. Sure enough at 13.15, Sarah called and we were soon on the road to the airport to collect the 'food parcel'. We pulled into the car park and as planned, Joel and Ella went into the terminal and I drove away. The plan worked to perfection, as I received a text from Joel saying Ella was hugely surprised and very very happy. Despite me initially believing he would buckle under the pressure, he was undeniably cool throughout the whole thing.

In New Zealand there are few opportunities to go swimming with dolphins, however Akaroa- a quiet seaside town in a region called Banks Peninsula, roughly an hour and a half from Christchurch, provides an opportunity to swim with one of the world's rarest creatures, the 'Hectors Dolphin'. It is so rare in fact, that it holds a place on the endangered species list alongside the 'Brown Bear' and the 'Killer Whale', so swimming with them would indeed be a very special experience. I booked up without hesitation and couldn't wait to get into the water the following day, even though there was a damn good chance it would be freezing!

The early morning drive over to Akaroa was incredibly pleasant, and the calm, twisty countryside roads felt a million miles away from the carnage of the city. On the descent into the town centre, I noticed that many of the road and place names were in French and the place had an ambience not too dissimilar to a quiet French village. Keen to discover more about Akaroa's roots, I made a quick trip to the town hall, and discovered that somebody called Jean Francois L'Anglois purchased land in the region and invited people from back home to make the move down under.

Satisfied that I had learned something new and interesting, I made my way towards the pier 'Swimming with Dolphins' shop and checked in. I was very confident of an encounter with a school of dolphins, and this feeling was justified when I was told that the previous group of swimmers had interacted with 6 dolphins.

Of the twelve people in my group, 11 of us were Brits, and much joy was taken by the Kiwi expedition crew in winding us up about the World Cup! After squeezing into a medium sized wetsuit, something that I haven't achieved for over 10 years, the boat beckoned. It was roughly a 20 minute journey to where a group of four dolphins had been spotted, and soon enough we received the call that it was time to get into the water.

Now I've done a fair bit of open water swimming as part of my triathlon training, in some uncomfortably cold water. However the temperature of the water into which I had just jumped, re-defined the word uncomfortable. It was so cold in fact, that I could feel my nether regions shrink at an alarming rate.

Despite my balls being non-existent, I managed to focus my attention on trying to attract an endangered animal. The advice that had been given back on dry land, was that blowing bubbles and even singing through our snorkels would intrigue the dolphins, hence them wanting to seek out what was making the noises.

On that note, I broke out my finest snorkel rendition of 'Highway to Hell' by AC/DC, which I knew would be an absolute winner. Sure enough, a pair of intrigued dolphins approached, one of which passed within about a foot of me. They spent several minutes circling us until they decided that we weren't interesting anymore- I happen to think that on hearing a Justin Bieber number, they were disgusted and had decided they wouldn't return.

Compared to those on the earlier trip, we weren't having much luck in attracting Flipper the Dolphin, and after having acclimatised myself to the freezing water conditions, it was time to get back on the boat to go in search of a more playful group. As the boat powered along, the wash created by the engines saw a pair of dolphins swim alongside and in front of the boat, doing a few tricks and entertaining the capacity crowd. They loved the attention as those of us with cameras took the opportunity to capture this fantastic event.

It took no time at all before another school of dolphins came into view, so before you could say 'shit it's cold' it was time to get back into the water, which luckily didn't feel as bad as before. Unfortunately despite my singing heroics, the dolphins were unwilling to play ball and before too long our time was up and we headed back to shore.

Despite only a small number of dolphins interacting with us, the experience was nevertheless unbelievable and I can now say I have had an up close and personal encounter with a rare and precious animal.

During the drive back to Christchurch, I received a text from Hannes, my friend from Hanmer Springs, who asked whether he could travel with me to Mount Cook the following day. We arranged to meet at a mall towards the north of the city, and I was thoroughly looking forward to his company....and his culinary skills.

It was time to leave Christchurch the next morning, and drive roughly 300km through Mackenzie country to Mount Cook. After a spot of lunch with Hannes at the Northlands mall, we hit the road...and what a road! In what was undoubtedly the most pleasurable motoring experience of my life, every turn we rounded and every hill we climbed brought with it a piece of scenery that was even more stunning than the last. I lost count of how many times we stopped to take photos, although it was plenty!

Approaching dusk we arrived at the Glentanner Park Centre- approximately 10km from Mount Cook village, and the secluded spot in which we would be camping that night. The sound of tranquility made a nice change to the more busy atmosphere at hostels, and it was so relaxing sitting outside with a beer watching the sun go down.

Come nightfall there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and it was lit up by millions of stars. I don't think I have seen stars so clear and bright since my holidays in Portugal many years ago, and as such the hills and mountains all around us stood out so well.

After a night where I failed to find 'The Plough' and 'The Great Bear', I hoped for a more promising days hike at Mount Cook. It was only a short drive to the village, which felt more like a purpose built holiday camp, however it seemed to cater for all the needs of the intrepid explorer. Hannes and I decided to hike to a place called Kea Point, roughly 2 hours return and according to the bloke behind the desk 'has a terrific view of the mountain'.

It proved to be a popular route, as both keen hikers and organised tour parties graced the trail. We both fell into the first category, and in just under an hour, Sir Edmund Bacon and Sir Hannes Fiennes reached the Mount Cook lookout. It didn't disappoint.

Every way you looked there were large intimidating mountains, from the silvery Mount Sefton to Mount Cook itself. In the midst of all this was the bluest of water called the Mueller Glacier Lake. In every way the geography of this place was memorable, and I don't think I have ever eaten a cheese sandwich in a more scenic location.

On our return to Mount Cook village, we browsed the Sir Edmund Hillary museum, a celebration of the achievements of arguably New Zealand's most well-known figure. Although small, the museum timelined his incredible expeditions, from the ascent of Mount Cook in 1948, to the Everest climb in 1953, as well as showcasing much of his equipment from the Mount Cook adventure in particular.

Roughly 10km away from the village is the Tasman Glacier, the longest in New Zealand and one that has receded approximately 200 metres a year since the mid 1990's. The sun was still shining so Hannes and I decided to go and check it out. After negotiating a road not to dissimilar to a stage on the Acropolis rally, we were at the foot of the hill, which despite its steepness was far from a chore to walk up. The views looking out onto the Tasman Lake which ran parallel to the road we had just driven on were fabulous.

Laying before us at the summit of the hill was the glacier, which I admit wasn't as spectacular as I expected it to be. The receeding element I mentioned earlier was very noticeable, and due to its small size, I struggled to notice it at first. However combined with the immense backdrop of Mount Cook, it provided a stunning photo opportunity and it was well worth the short trip.

On the way to the campsite at Glentanner, we had driven through Tekapo, a small town about 45 minutes away renowned for its attractive blue lake. It was so beautiful in fact, that we decided to stay there for a couple of nights. However the big question I asked myself on the drive there was would we make it?

Now this forthcoming passage isn't me being ungrateful- I am very lucky that my Grandfather decided to buy a car that I could use during my time here, this is me venting my frustration at the useless piece of machinery I was driving.

During the journey to Tekapo, the temperature gauge consistently rose and fell, until a strong burning smell forced me to pull over and lift the bonnet on the Rover. As I waited for the car to cool down (which in 25 degree heat was going to take an age) before putting water in it, I thought to myself 'why didn't we buy Japanese?'

When one breaks down in an Alfa Romeo or a Jaguar, despite them being on the receiving end of fits of laughter from fellow drivers, they look cool in the knowledge that they are driving a luxurious, comfortable and fast piece of engineering. As expected it was the opposite effect in the Rover. I wasn't in something fast or indeed luxurious, and I looked like a twat...simple.

However after getting to the point where the car was cool enough to fill it with water, I gingerly nursed it to Tekapo, where I had to get it fixed. Of course it was a weekend, and with it being such a small place, the garage was closed.

In the knowledge that we would have to stay a few extra days then planned while the car was out of action, Hannes and I checked into the YHA, which was situated right on the lakefront, the most scenic location possible. The hostel itself was incredibly homely, with a nice lounge area and log fire, a big kitchen and most importantly lots of space.

The time in Tekapo of course was spent around making sure the car was up to scratch, however we were both keen to indulge in some hiking. Unfortunately the weather on the Sunday was not worthy of trudging up a great big hill, so instead we visited the local hot pools. Although not in the same league as Hanmer Springs, they were still very relaxing and thankfully not too busy.

Monday was the day when I would find out whether the Rover could end up costing me an arm and a leg, and after leaving it at the garage nice and early, we decided to take a hike up to the Mount John Observatory. Roughly 1000 metres above sea level, the observatory has beautiful views over Lake Tekapo, as well as being the prime location for 'stargazers' due to the favourable night sky conditions.

However while making our ascent, Tekapo decided to go 'Isle of Man' on us, and the pleasant conditions changed dramatically. The view from the top was blighted by a fairly heavy rainstorm, so we took shelter in the cafe and hoped that it would clear. Unfortunately the rain became even heavier, so it was a long and wet walk back to base.

Despite having wet pants, I received a positive phone call from the garage...the car needed a new radiator pressure cap and that it would be ready by the following morning. Major and expensive crisis averted.

After a nice final evening in Tekapo, Twizel was calling the following day. Although one of the smallest towns within Mackenzie Country, it's raison d'etre is it's close ties with the Lord of the Rings trilogy, as several 'Middle Earth' scenes were filmed there.

Luckily only a short distance from Lake Tekapo, Hannes and I had the whole day to explore Twizel and the surrounding areas. After checking into a backpackers hut within the confines of a motel (amazingly they do have such things!) we followed a walking trail deep into the heart of Mackenzie Country. The landscape was still dominated by Mount Cook, however the path followed a glorious meandering river that went on for probably 5km or more. After taking a collection of photos and soaking up the sunshine, we returned to the motel, where we socialised with some of the other guests long into the evening- in particular a trainee doctor from Germany, and a Danish student.

After an entertaining evening, during which we decided to spontaneously make seriously good chocolate brownies (I don't remember how this decision came about, but it proves that yound minds are brilliant), we were up bright and early for the trip south the following morning.

A 500km journey to the Catlins was on the cards for me, during which I would drop Hannes off along the way in Cromwell, roughly 200km from Twizel. It seemed hard to believe that we had been travelling together for about a week, and it was sad that this lads adventure was coming to an end. We reached Cromwell and I waved goodbye not only to Hannes, but any chance of a healthy diet for the rest of the trip.

Many hours later, I neared the backpackers, and as I turned off the highway, I noticed that it would alarmingly be out in the middle of nowhere. If the car decided to let go, I was well and truly buggered! Thankfully still with a fully working engine I reached the 'backpackers'- I say backpackers, it was somebody's house, and as I met the housekeeper Eleanor, my suspicions were confirmed. It was owned by a couple in Invercargill, who sit back and watch the money roll in. Not a bad life. The house itself was beautiful, a mixture of modern fixtures and fittings, with the feel of a classic countryside cottage.

My intention whilst in the Catlins was to spend a couple of days hiking, before heading along the south coast towards Te Anau. However as is only tradition in the Southlands, it rained, and rained, and rained. The weather was so bad in fact that I decided to stay for one night and make tracks in the morning. Looking back, it was the right decision.

However that evening, I was engaged in conversation with David, one of the other guests who was telling me about his lecturing days at Cambridge University. In 25 years he taught the likes of Gavin Hastings and Rob Andrew, and as a rugby man, I was interested to hear about how good they were back in the day. Unsurprisingly they were pretty damn good!

Still pissing with rain, I left mid-morning for Te Anau, and I was looking forward to a) improved weather, and b) the chance to view Doubtful Sound, which I had been told was truly stunning. Thankfully on my arrival into town the weather cleared, and a nice blue sky appeared, so it was the perfect opportunity to indulge in a spot of hiking. The Routeburn Track in the Fiordland National Park runs from Queenstown to Te Anau, and is renowned around the globe. My route was roughly 20km return and followed a tranquil, meandering river. It was very pleasant, I just wish I had brought my rain jacket along, because yes you guessed it, the rain came...and it was torrential. By the time I arrived back at my hostel, I looked like a wet dog.

The following day, I made the trip to Doubtful Sound, which involved an epically long bus journey and two boat rides. It was well worth it! In the midst of misty and murky weather, the Sound seemed to go on forever. The mist somehow really added to the occasion and at one point, the boat engines were switched off and the sound of silence was beautiful. We even received a visit from a couple of dolphins who swam in the wash created by the engines.

The drive upto Milford Sound the next morning was beautiful, the sun slowly rose over the hills and conditions were perfect. I decided to camp at the Milford Sound Lodge, only a few kilometres walk from the entrance to the Sound. As I erected my tent in glorious and let's face it rare sunshine for Milford, I was amazed by the view...there are certainly worse places to go camping! Essentially for the next two nights, my home would be opposite a vast mountain, where waterfalls would flow and the sound of the water hitting the rocks was very relaxing.

I took a boat trip out to explore the Sound in greater detail, and I can honestly say it is one of the most beautiful places I have ever visited. It was so picturesque, bathed in sunshine, waterfalls wherever you looked, and it was just incredible. My camera worked overtime!

Having caught the hiking bug in Te Anau, the following day I decided to follow a trail that would bring me out at the entrance to the Sound. When I say trail, it was far from it; more like a small marker every so often telling you that you were following the correct path. I felt like Bear Grylls trekking in the Amazon Rainforest, I had to keep an eye out all the time for stray branches, logs and anything else that I could potentially trip over. In fairness it actually became rather unpleasant after the umptienth time falling over, and slowly running out of food and water. To my relief I managed to find my way out of what was essentially the jungle, and back to camp where I could give my feet a well deserved rest.

I was pleasantly surprised that the weather had been so kind to me at Milford, there had barely been a cloud in the sky for the last 2 days. That is until the morning of my departure to Queenstown, when it pissed it down. Honestly I do not recommend dismantling a tent in the pouring rain.

Queenstown is a place that I had been wanting to visit since I arrived in New Zealand months prior. It had come to prominence thanks to the antics of a certain Mike Tindall Esq, however it's charming beauty combined with an energy for all things extreme, meant that it was the perfect place to relax, and go all out and get on the drink.

The hostel was really quaint, the sort of place where everyody knew each other and would socialise together. I had made friends with a few people even after only being there for an hour, and so that evening, Riko and Christian from Germany, Steph from Canada, Gemma, Martin and Amalee from the UK, Melissa from Zimbabwe and I went out for a mega piss up.

We started off in the Buffalo Club, where for an hour, free drinks were the order of the day. I reckon between the 8 of us, we had about 25 drinks on the table! We had great fun playing drinking games and chatting and it was really great!

After happy hour (of course being backpackers we tried our best not to pay for drinks), we migrated to the rodeo bar, where we were given the challenge of riding the bull. Equipped with cowboy hats and beers, each of us took up the challenge. The girls could hold on with two hands and the guys only one, which was handy because I still had some of my beer to finish. Inevitably after about 30 seconds of feeling really cool, I ended up on my arse in a rather undignified manner. The montage of photos were funny though!

The following day, we all woke up with serious hangovers, however I still managed to drag myself out of bed and go and grab some breakfast with Gemma and Amalee. In the midst of Lake Wakatipu, Queenstown has some amazing scenery, perfect for a bike ride or a lounge in the sunshine. I spent several hours just sitting by the lake and watching the world go by, it was very peaceful.

Later that day, Steph and I took a ride on the gondolas up to the top of the hill. I felt as though I was on top of the world and the view overlooking Queenstown was absolutely stunning. People were paragliding and simply admiring the view, but we were there for something called 'Funyakking', an activity where one navigates their un-powered go-karts down a track. It looked jolly good fun, and it certainly proved to be when Steph and I took to our karts. I must admit I got a little carried away thinking I was Fernando Alonso, taking the racing line etc, but the simple fact is that I was too slow. Even with a 5 second head start, I found myself having to defend my position from Steph.

It was very good fun though and we even had the bonus of receiving an extra go!

I had seen images of the South Island, people had told me that it's the place to see the 'real' New Zealand. The scenery is breathtaking, the adventures are amazing and the friendships are everlasting.

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