The lady is a tramper...

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Everyone says how easy hitching is in New Zealand, how quickly you are picked up and how safe it is. After 10 minutes of standing by the road smiling with my thumb stuck out I started to feel offended that no one was stopping! Seconds later a girl going to Glenorchy stopped. She didn't normally pick up people on their own but decided that as I was a brown haired girl and she was a brown haired girl that all would be ok. Possibly the strangest logic I had heard recently but I was nonetheless very grateful. She told me the names of the lake and the mountains that we past, about local Maori legends and even offered to stop for photos, she was better than a tour guide! Conscious she was heading to work I didn't but regretted it. The scenery was breathtaking, the best so far in New Zealand, with a huge sparkling lake with mountains galore behind it. Glenorchy, with its perfect location, is tiny but all the more wonderful for it. I stayed in possibly the dampest, smelliest bunkhouse and at 3am asked myself why I never needed to get up in the night if I had en suite facilities but as soon as they were half a mile down the road I did. When I looked at the sky I didn't mind at all. Above me was a magical display of sparkling lights, just for me to see. The stars of the Southern Cross seemed larger than any others in the sky and the Milky Way seemed to go on forever.

With dodgy weather forecast I was on the bus heading to the start of the Routeburn Track, another famous trek or what they refer to as a tramp in NZ. Very short at only 31km and split over two and half days it was a good introduction to carrying a full pack again. Day one was easy as the path gently climbed though the lush forest and along the gushing river before reaching the Routeburn Falls hut. With dreadful weather forecasted the following day, the one which of course was over the pass with the beautiful views, I headed onwards and upwards to see what I was going to be missing out on the next day. Reminding me of glens in Scotland it was very pretty with no one around. The evening was spent playing cards with some Australians I met in the hut. The rain during the night was so heavy that new waterfalls had appeared over and down the hills and the track up to the pass called Harris Saddle was more like a river than a path but it had at least stopped raining. The view from the lookout was mostly different shaped clouds which every now and again let us have glimpses of the snow covered peaks behind.

On to Milford Sound. Despite strong winds we got kitted out in thermal tops and bottoms, a wet suit vest top, a fleece, a skirt to cover the seat of the kayak, a waterproof jacket and a life jacket expecting to take it all off again soon after as the kayaking was likely to be cancelled. Fortunately the wind died down so we soon in the kayaks about to be pushed into the sea. In front of us a seal rather leisurely swam past us. I was teamed up with a 28 year old American guy and paddling around the sound (which is actually a fjord) spotting seals and gazing at the huge peaks and cliffs covered in lush rain forest was great fun until the wind picked up and we were heading straight into it making it hard work. Lunch on a beach and a short walk to a wonderful, thundering waterfall before heading back gave us enough time to recover for yet another hard paddle against the wind made somewhat trickier by me disproving the women can multi-task theory by failing to manage to steer the kayak in the right direction and paddle at the same time!

Onto Te Anau where I met up with Neil from home. Too late to book the luxury of huts on the Kepler Tramp we decided to do it anyway and camp despite the campsites not being in ideal positions. The first day was easy peasy. 4km along the lakeside to the Control Gates, the start of the Kepler Track, followed by 3km through the forest to the campsite Dock Bay, right on the shore of Lake Te Anau which was a beautiful spot to spend the afternoon, reading on the beach in the sunshine or swimming in the lake. Shame about the sand flies (think midges in Scotland and you'll know what it is like!) which seemed more attracted by the bug repellent than repelled. Defeated I opted for the sanctuary of the tent early on rather than gazing at the moon reflected in the lake. In the early hours Neil was awoken by some rustling. Further inspection found it to be a greedy possum which had managed to steal all my apricots and more importantly my large slab of Cadbury's Crunchie chocolate from the side pocket of my pack. Shouting at it, pointing the torch at it and banging the tent made no difference to this possum who was just mildly disappointed he couldn't take more goodies from me. Day 2 was going to be trickier. 10 hours of walking time (not including stops) according to the guide book. Setting off at 8.20am in the cold mist with a heavy pack made the prospect of 32km with 1500m of ascent and descent seem somewhat harder. Climbing up fast we were soon above the mist and in a blue skied world surrounded by peaks, magical. At Luxmore Hut Neil went to explore the caves whilst I told my possum story to a nice English couple who rather sweetly left me some of their chocolate. Meanwhile two chaps in ironed chinos and blue sweaters arrived in a helicopter, no sweaty climb for them. Onwards and upwards to Mt Luxmore itself for yet more lovely views even as far as Mt Cook followed by a wonderful undulating ridge walk with lakes and mountains in all directions in blazing sunshine. Pure bliss, especially when there was almost no people on the track. Soon though it was time to say goodbye to the mountains and time to descend through the forest which was hard work at the end of a long day. Camp was set up by 5pm and we took a pre-dinner stroll to a nearby waterfall before tucking into some rather tasty freeze dried food whilst swatting yet more sand flies. Day 3 was equally long (32km) but thankfully somewhat flatter. The path took us through forest and along beautiful rivers. I met a chap along the way and after a retelling of the possum story I had acquired yet more chocolate. This, along with some tunes on my ipod, helped me get to the Control Gates by 4pm where Neil kindly walked the last 4km to town to get the car and pick me and the two packs up.

The scenery from Te Anau to Queenstown was really quite spectacular. Tired from the hiking I let the gondola take the strain and headed up Queenstown's mountain for remarkable mountain views of the Remarkables, the backdrop to the town and lake Wakatipu. Then it was onto Mount Cook village, a tiny village at the bottom of, yes you guessed it, Mount Cook, New Zealand's highest mountain. Known to the Maori as Aoraki meaning Cloud Piercer, it lived up to its name as its peak proudly stood above a huge chunk of white cloud. Nikki and I made the most of the goodish weather and walked to the Mueller Glacier Lake where we could see the glacier up close and Mt Cook in full view. The following day we walked to Hooker Glacier Lake but in the rain with no view whatsoever, however it meant we were fully justified to sit in the Old Mountaineer's Cafe the whole afternoon drinking coffee and eating the odd muffin chatting to various folk. I wanted to spend a night at the Mueller Hut high up in the mountains but the weather didn't look as if it wanted me to. By this time the one and only youth hostel was full. Chatting to a member of the Canterbury Mountaineering Club he said I was more than welcome to stay at their own hut half an hour from the village towards the mountains. Gratefully accepted I found myself sitting on an old, comfy armchair in this lovely hut, with carpets, drinking red wine and looking straight out the window to a full view of Mt Cook before playing cards. Wonderful! I hiked up to Ball Shelter along a rather rocky moraine to the tiny shelter where the views in every direction were stunning. The weather, which so far on my whole trip has been very good to me, changed for the worse and decided for me it was time to leave. Mueller Hut would have to wait until next time.

Next it was onto Christchurch, an utterly charming city built with English settlers in mind. Men with straw hats punt folk down the River Avon which runs through the city under the shade of the huge weeping willows. School children in pinstripe blazers, shorts and knee high socks all seemed well behaved. With its population of 400,000 it seemed like a metropolis after the villages and small towns I had been to. Even the sound of the pedestrian crossing seemed loud to me, goodness knows how I'll cope with Bangkok... It was however the perfect place to relax. Travelling had caught up with me so I sat under a tree by the river trying to not feel too guilty about not doing the coastal walks I had planned.

With my flight to Sydney nearing it was time for me to be ultra organised. I phoned the Stray bus and booked myself on the bus to Kaikora, one of the best places in the world for whale watching, booked a spot on the whale watching boat and accommodation. However I'd been booked onto a bus that didn't exist, well not on Thursdays anyway. Frantic ringing around companies commenced only to find out they had already left. Southern Bus however saved the day and got me there 5 minutes before the bus departed to the boat. Whilst watching huge albatross soaring past us the captain was busy using sonar equipment to locate the reason people come to Kaikora - whales. Close to the shore is a huge canyon, 1600m deep, a perfect playground for these huge mammals and it wasn't long before someone spotted the spray coming from a sperm whale. Everyone stared at it in amazement, almost in silence, as it blew spray several times into the air before gracefully arching its back and letting our cameras snap away as only his tail was left before that too disappeared deep into the canyon. At this point my sea legs failed me due to the swell and I had to glance between the acrobatic dusky dolphins, who were putting on quite an elaborate show in between the whale sightings, and the inside of a paper bag. It wasn't long before it was only the bag that got my attention. By the time a second whale was sighted, which was actually the first one back up, I could at least stand up holding a new paper bag and watch it again blow the spray and disappear as gracefully as before into the ocean...

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Photos

On the way to Ball Shelter
Mount Cook National Park