Advertisement
Published: December 15th 2007
After some teary goodbyes in Sydney, we left the 25 degree loveliness and were plunged into the cold that is New Zealand's springtime. Landing in Christchurch was similar to landing in Glasgow, and after falling asleep on the plane I awoke panicking that I had been the target of some horrible conspiracy to take me home early. As we drove through the leafy suburbs on the airport shuttle, it was obvious that Christchurch had been built to look like a typical English town. We had chosen a hostel which had looked fairly close to the bus stop, but as we lugged all our belongings on what felt like a 10km hike, we realised the map had not actually been to scale. Nevertheless, we booked into the hostel and went to explore the town. There was a brief attempt to be touristy, but with the rain still pouring down, we decided just to get some food and then chill out in the warmth of the hostel lounge.
Another early start brought us back to the centre of town to meet the bus to take us to Barrytown. With only 10 days to see as much of NZ as possible, the decision had
been made to take a tour of the South Island and then fly up to Auckland in the North Island to take the plane to Fiji. There are a quite a few tour operators who cater to young people wanting to travel the country, but after looking at the available routes and on recommendation of a friend, we opted to take the Stray bus. Still raining, we got on the connecting bus to take us to meet the Stray tour that was already under way. Crossing from the east coast of the island to the west showed us some amazing scenery: it is not the kind of journey that you read your book through. The seemingly typical British countryside gave way to snowcapped mountains that were encircled by puffs of cloud and glassy blue lakes. I had heard that the scenery of the South Island is similar to that of Scotland, but that really does not do it justice. NZ is larger, more dramatic and far more visually stunning. I can see why Peter Jackson chose this country to film the Lord of the Rings Trilogy.
After stopping for breakfast in a tiny town called Arthurs Pass, we drove on
and left the mountains behind. After a nap, I awoke to find the snow and the blue-green countryside had given way to flat, sweeping fields of a yellow green color. We changed buses in Greymouth, and then drove along the coastline apparently rated among the world’s top ten, and in to Barrytown. I am not sure if you could call it a town, as it was more like a few houses and a pub. The pub was where we were to spend the next 2 nights, and having been pre-warned to buy food before we arrived, we cooked and settled in to wait for the Stray bus to arrive from the north.
That night we had a quiet few drinks and met the people on the bus, and generally had an early night. The following day there were activities available such as bone carving and knife-making, but in trying to save our money for the things we really wanted to do, we opted for the free bus ride to check out the Pancake rocks and blowholes at Punakaiki, and then the beach at the Truman Tracks. In the evening we were roped into joining the pub quiz, which, due to
On a walk in Barrytown
Well there really wasn't much else to do there...our lack of knowledge, was thankfully not all about NZ. We managed to come second (go Team Bob!) but did not win a prize. Having spotted the dressing-up clothes in the bar earlier and the photos of past tours in the pub, we were not surprised when they told us it was dress-up night. By this time we were fairly well-oiled, so while all the boys had to dress up as women, we got free reign to dress as we liked. Franny attacked some bin bags and went as Batgirl, while I got dressed by one of the guys (not recommended after seeing what he put me in) and ended up as some kind of gay fisherman. The night went off with a bang and there was enough social lubricant to ensure we all got to know each other better, and it ended with a lock-in with the locals.
Bleary-eyed early next morning, we got on the big orange bus and tried not to vomit as we drove along the windy NZ roads. Along the way to Franz Josef, we made various stop offs to see viewpoints and take photos. After lunch we stopped at Bushman Pete's for some education.
At The Truman Tracks
That's me under there... In a kind of museum to hunting and wildlife we were introduced to Pete, who was definitely a man's man, and he showed us a video entitled 'The Death of Bambi'. It was described by Pete as showing the history of culling deer in NZ up until that last great cull in the 1970's, when "men were men, and sheep were nervous". The rest of the museum had some live and some dead animals. Amongst the live category were some possums and a very large wild pig called Tuku, whom we got to feed and who seemed to enjoy getting her tummy scratched. In the cafe, there was possum pie being served, but in our condition, we thought it best to leave that delicacy to another time.
Thankfully, after that we soon arrived in Franz Josef where we booked up for the glacier hike for the following day and then in to our hostel. The more intrepid of our group were drinking again that night, but after having only 3 hours sleep, we took to our beds to rest up for the next day.
Most people had signed up for the full day hike, but Franny and I took the
half day option since I still had a cold and Franny had not yet realised her love for the outdoors. After arriving at the guide centre, we were briefed and handed out the gear. We were given boots and spikes, waterproof trousers and jackets, and mittens and hats. Considering it was still only 8 degrees and raining, these items were essential. We took a short bus ride to the car park beside the glacier, and then walked the 2.6km to the base. Here we put on our spikes and split into smaller groups, and as Franny and I chose the fast group (why?!), we started off first. The climb up the glacier was pretty tough. There were stairs hacked into the ice, and ropes to hold onto when it was steep, but we needed to regularly stop to catch our breath. We drank some of the melted glacier water as suggested by our guide, which I was sad to discover tasted just like any other water, and we got a running commentary on all things glacial as we walked up. Apparently, the Franz Josef glacier is one of the few in the world that is traveling forward, whereas most of
the others are receding back due to global warming. The reason for its moving forward is the massive 35m snowfall in 2004 which is still pushing it through the valley. We were told that the glacier travels 5m in it's centre and 90cm at it's front every single day. As it moves its way forward, the valley walls change the inside of the glacier by closing and opening crevasses, so that the way the tour is taken through the glacier can change weekly. The glacier is actually 12km long but we hardly made a dent into that, however, we saw some amazing blue ice and some great views from the high points. On the way back to the bus it started hailing, so we were glad to be heading back to the warm and dry of hostel.
We headed off early again the next day to travel further south. Our first stop off was at Ship Creek where we were attacked by sand flies and saw the creek which had turned black with sap from all the tee trees in the area. Next we drove through the Haast area, where Dutch explorer Julius Von Haast had done a lot of
Guys from the Stray Bus
All dressed up and nowhere to go. No really, it was Barrytown, there was actually nowhere else to go. discovering and promptly named everything after himself. These included the town of Haast, the Haast Pass through the alps, a lake, the Gates of Haast and also the Haast Eagle. Thankfully for us, this creature is now extinct, but in its day, it could grow to have an 8m wingspan and eat 10 foot chickens called Maoi. We also stopped to see the Roaring Billy Falls and Thunder Creek Falls before arriving in Makarora.
Makarora was a small town, bathed in sunshine and surrounded by snowy mountains. Having lunch outside, I kept expecting Maria to come bounding over the hills, singing 'The Hills Are Alive'. We were assigned to strange looking, triangular chalets and left to do as we wanted for the rest of the day. Some of the group went jet-boating, while others went hiking up the hills. Deciding to save our money for Queenstown, we took to our beds for a small nana-nap to get ready for the night's activities. That night was karaoke night in Makarora, much to Franny's delight. We met up with the rest of the group in the bar and got down to a bit of drinking. After being accosted quite a few times
by well meaning locals in previous places, I thought nothing of a big guy with a rugby player's nose starting to chat to us at the bar. He asked us where we were from and told us he had been in Edinburgh the week before. He also recommended Speights beer before I wandered away to sit with everyone else. It was only later on that our bus driver, Morrie, told me that I had been speaking to none other that Andrew Hore, the All Blacks hooker. It was then I realised that the reason he had been in Edinburgh was he had been playing at Murrayfield and whooping Scotland's ass 40-0. I was absolutely gutted.
As the night passed on, we had a few more drinks and Franny managed to sing 5 times. She normally is enthusiastic, but this time she was competing to win a 2-for-1 skydive the next day. I even had my first ever try at solo karaoke, when one of the guys on the bus put my name down and I was forced on stage to sing the classic, Uptown Girl. Later on that night, after finding my way through the pitch black to our chalet,
I had been laying in my bed for a few minutes when the room started shaking. Franny sat bolt upright and exclaimed "Oh my God, there's someone shaking the chalet!" Makarora is apparently built on a fault line, so it was here I experienced my first ever earthquake. The next day it was all that people on the bus could talk about, although some of them were not so happy that they had managed to sleep all the way through it.
The day was spent traveling through picturesque scenery before arriving in Queenstown. Where the rain found us again. Thankfully it had cleared up slightly by the following day, as Franny and I were to do the Shotover Jet in the morning. Franny had been to NZ when she was young, and this was one of the things she remembered doing. So we were bussed out to Shotover Creek where we were given waterproofs and told to wrap up warm. The river was high and wild due to the weather, and as Franny and I sat up front in the jet boat, we were fully subjected to the lashing of waves as we sped around on the water; pulling off
Tired yet?!
Only 12km to the other side... many 360's and narrowly missing rocks, valley walls and fallen trees. I personally think it would have been much more fun if I had been allowed to drive the boat, but it was not to be, and I am sure we were much safer in the hands of our experienced driver.
In the afternoon, to complete my adrenaline fuelled day, I wanted to do a bungee jump, although Franny could not be persuaded. As the home of the bungee, I decided Queenstown was the best place to do it. And what better choice for my first bungee, than to do the third highest in the world. The Nevis is a 134m jump from a cable car in the middle of a canyon. Apparently there is 8.5 seconds of freefall, which I found to include thoughts of: 'Bloody hell, this is a bit high' to 'Oh crap, did I actually jump off a cable car?!' to 'Where on earth did my stomach go?? before finally, 'This is*%$#ing awesome!!'. It was an amazing experience, and one I would definitely repeat.
That night was our last night with the Stray bus and also Nicole's birthday, so we decided to have a bit of
a celebration in the adventure capital of NZ. Queenstown is renowned for its nightlife, so after some drinking games in the hostel, we all headed out to a night on the town. After getting to know the guys on the bus during the week, it was great to have a proper goodbye party. It was a fun night that included some really awful pool playing (by me), some pretty dodgy dance moves (by Franny), and some drinking cocktails out of teapots (by all - don't ask!). However, we were not feeling all that well, when after 3 hours of sleep we had to get a connecting bus back to Christchurch at 8 o'clock the next morning.
The following day, we took a short flight to Auckland. We had planned to spend longer on the North Island, but due to time restrictions, we only had one day there. We looked around the city, and involved ourselves in some tourist activities and went up the Sky Tower. This gave some spectacular views over the city, but it was nowhere near as beautiful as the South Island. With a lack of anything else we really wanted to do in Auckland, we were not
that unhappy to leave the following day to go to Fiji. We both really enjoyed our time in NZ and we are glad we got to see the small amount we did on the Stray bus. We met some great people and got to see much of the country that we would not have seen if traveling independently. My only regret is not having more time to see the rest of NZ, both the north and south islands. We found the locals to be incredibly friendly and always willing to help us if we needed it. The views of the countryside are truly breathtaking, and indescribable in mere words. Next time I am in that part of the world, I plan to see a lot more of it. And I know where I will be for the World Cup 2011!
Advertisement
Tot: 0.093s; Tpl: 0.017s; cc: 9; qc: 45; dbt: 0.0469s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb
