Queenstown, Lakes Galore and Glaciers in the rain

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The beauty of living from our backpacks, back seats, and the flimsy shelter of our Malaysian tent, is the total freedom it affords. We drive where the wind takes us, wear whatever clothes are clean-ish and sleep on the flattest land we can find. So it came to be that we pulled into the adrenaline capital of New Zealand, Queenstown. Not the trashy town full of drunken youths that i half expected to find, this was a beautiful town, full of cobbled lanes set around the glimmering Lake Wakatipu. We weren't here with the intention of throwing ourselves off a bridge, although this is the original and first bungy sight ever created, gastonomic thrills were more the flavour of the day. Wine tasting in the nearby Gibson Valley, followed by a mega pistachio ice-cream from the lakefront 'Patagonia' heladeria (ice-cream shop in spanish- we have been learning the important things!)

Having left Milford behind we entered another area of this scenic country and were once again impressed with the natural spendour that surrounded us. Dramatic mountain ridges tumbled down to collosal freshwater lakes, vineyards and quaint country towns occupied the flat ground, and any spare space belonged to the sheep. As we savoured our ice-cream we watched the wind stir up the water before us, and laughed as waves crashed over the low wall to drench unsuspecting passers-by. The sun was beaming down upon us all though so they would have dried in no time.

Home for the evening was beside the shores of the picturesque Moke lake, where a lovely grassy foreshore enticed us into a brief footy forray, before the chilly wind forced us to shelter in our faithful 'Jucy'. We were hopeful that the wind would drop before bedtime but the opposite occured, so in the car we stayed.

Warm sunshine woke us the next day, and the calm lake looked so serene that we were tempted to swim in it's icy cold waters! A run and jump (the only way to get into cold water) and a brief thrash around was promtly followed by a bucket shower, and a hand-wash laundry session. While the clothes dried, we soaked up the u-vay rays until our bue-tinged skin returned to its normal colour! Only joking. In fact we got so hot so quickly that i had to invent a shelter to give us some shade. It remained the most balmy of days and we enjoyed the tranquility of our surrounds, watching the light on the mountain as it changed from midday to sunset and then to moonlight.

This country is blessed with an abundance of lakes, which meant that the next night we camped beside another, equally beautiful, and much larger one. We were hopping from ridge to valley to lake as we followed the haast pass to Fox Glacier. It was at this point that our sunny weather dissappeared and for the next three days heavy rain and low thick clouds swirled around us. Not to be deterred we stuck it out hoping for a break in these unhelpful conditions. Since none came we made do by sleeping in our car (achey backs again) and by cooking our meals in a rather unorthodox shelter...lets just say, anybody waiting for a bus on those days would have been in for a treat.

As our eyes couldn't lock on to their desired galcial targets we focused them on blog writing and the wonder of National Geographic magazines instead, we were holed up in a chalet style cafe for most of the day drinking hot chocolates (me) and beer (lewi).

Bright and early the next morning, with a possible gap in the clouds emerging, we set off excitedly to the beginning of the Fox Glacier track. To our disappointment the path was closed, we read the sign and understood, ice and rock falls and an ever rising river meant that the path was totally unsafe for hikers. We peered past the yellow tape to see the huge sheet of ice sprawled before us, its terminal face marred by dirt and debris but none the less impressive for it. It looked like a monster, and as we drove away a small post decleared that in 1750 the glacier was at such an advance that it reached almost to the end of the valley, imagine how beasty it would have been then!

Eager to get closer to a Glacier we continued north to Franz Joseph, where once again we tucked into a bus shelter for breakfast. The rain we'd been avoiding in England all this time seemed determind to catch up with us, and in the end, like true Brits, we decided that if we wanted to see this Glacier then we'd just have to grin and bear it. Trudging between the wide reaches of the moraine walls, the rain lashing against our plastic mac wrapped bodies we hoped it was going to be worth this wet hour and a halfs walk! It certainly was, the river of ice flowed before us, blue water ran from the pinnacle and caves and chistled caverns glittered in the patchy sunlight. It was such a magical sight that will be crystalised in our memories.

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