One to another - or "Goodbye Oz, Hello EnZed!"

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Last time I wrote I had just returned salted, bronzed and thoroughly exhausted from my trip through the Whitsunday Islands. In the two weeks or so since it's been all change and I now sit in a comfortable leather-bound chair in Invercargill, New Zealand. Much has happened and much cash has been spent (see why soon) and hopefully, this should be fairly brief...

After Airlie and the Whitsundays, I still had about five days in Australia. Leaving Airlie at 8:30pm I arrived in Mission Beach, further north up the East Coast at the inconvenient time of 4:00am. I'd rung ahead and been told there would be a sofa waiting for me in my hostel, upon which I could doze until reception opened the next morning. Mission Beach is apparently seeing more and more traveller and tourist dollars as it 'grows'. Let's be honest though, it is still thoroughly tiny, being about 4,000 people stretched along a 14km road, which follows the sweep of the beach of the same name. I spent just one-and-a-half days there, seeing much of what is on offer but it was certainly a hypnotic place where I can imagine 3 weeks could drift by unnoticed. I spent my time sedately, walking around the heritage rainforests which cover much of what isn't beach or road and strolling back down the beach to my hostel (requiring that I wade arm-pit deep through a creek which had thoughtlessly appeared due to the high-tide). I also met a group of German's who were heading up to Cairns like me, whom I could meet when I was there.

I realised that I'd never actually been in a rainforest and decided to take a popular 7km trail around one of the local ones. It was all that I'd hoped, being very green, very cool and filled with a number of outlandish animal noises. The area is famed for the endagered (and sometimes dangerous) Cassowary, though I saw nothing more than tiny lizards which scurried away from my feet as I walked along. It was to my dismay that the path was actually closed in parts due to some unsafe bridges. Being unwilling to turn back and then have a 2 hour trek home, I simply had to invent my way across a couple of small gulleys which provided unexpected amusement.

Upon exiting the forest, I set off on the 3km walk up the main road to my hostel only to encounter for the second time the great kindness of the locals. Aussies are invariably a friendly bunch but these were something else. The first time I set foot upon the road to begin the 5km walk from my hostel into the town centre (a gross overstatement if you ask me), within 1 minute someone had pulled over to offer me a lift. He pulled my leg about my idiocy for undertaking such a walk in tropical heat and deposited me where I wanted to go. He wouldn't even accept a drink in return for his good deed. The second time, after the forest walk, I was picked up by a couple who offered to take me wherever I wanted to go, even offering me a beer from their coolbox. The guy chatted about his love of Bob Dylan and invited me to his recital that evening which sadly I would be unable to attend. I don't know if it's just the weather that makes these people so laid-back and welcoming but whatever, it was nice to see and I will recommend anyone to go to Mission Beach to experience it. Of course the danger is that everyone will go there and they'll come to hate outsiders.

I left Mission Beach on a 2 hour bus journey to my final stop - Cairns. I have heard very mixed reviews about this place. Some hate it, while some tolerate it. Neither are glowing recommendations. I would throw myself into the former category. It is a small and pleasant city, with clean streets, beautiful weather and plenty of entertainment for visitors. On the downside, almost every shop sells tourist tat or tours or something tour-related and though I was there before it hit, the summer season is supposedly a nightmare. The other thing I noticed, was the massive number of Japanese tourists and shops with Japanese signage. I suppose they come to see Cairns's chief attraction - the Great Barrier Reef. I couldn't leave Australia without seeing it myself, so I booked myself onto a one-day tour. I chose a smaller (and yes, more expensive) boat, with only 26 people and I recommend this as on my trip, the number doing snorkelling (versus scuba diving) was only 5 people. This trip was definately worth doing, though I must say that I could only get about 3 1/2 hours in the water around one reef, which is certainly not enough. If I had more time I'd certainly have done one of the over-night or three-day trips. However, I was still glad to get to see even a fraction of this beautiful place.

Much has been said about the reef, its massive variety of marine life and stunning diversity of coral formations and I won't try to add much more. I can only convey that I spent three blissful hours drifting around watching, following and committing to memory all that I saw. Highlights included seeing: shoals of fish fleeing at omenous speed several feet below us, before their pursuer - a White-tip Reef Shark - flitted into view; a turtle flash past at astonishing speed, probably startled by a diving tourist; a Moray Eel standing to attention with mouth agape, being cleaned by tiny wrasse. One final thing I would recommend that greatly enriched my experience is to go to Reef Teach, a presentation run by an utterly certifiable Irish lunatic. Through a barrage of bizzare noises, patterned hand and body signals and hyper-speed commentary he introduces you the most common types of fish and coral you will encounter. Many tours seem include this as a pre-dive part of their package, which goes some way to communicating how benificial it is. Aside from that it is greatly entertaining and the guy, though he may irritate the hell out of some, is utterly endearing through his enthusiasm.

Aside from this acqutic activity, I enjoyed reading in the park by the pretty man-made lagoon (the real shoreline leaves much to be desired), where I also watched some local band perform a pretty hefty set-list as the sun set and hoardes of bats fluttered into the night air, probably in search of virginal females to convert to their evil ways. I managed to meet with my German friends from Mission Beach and we passed an unusual night, playing guitar on the pavement opposite a convenience store. We weren't busking, just messing around but people often came to make requests and I had the honour of playing one, being the only person who knew James Blunt, accompanied in voice by a random Danish girl. I left as the night wore on and the crazy's crawled out. The last I heard my friends were being regaled with one man's life-story, interspersed with angst-ridden lyrics from poems and songs he had written and consigned to memory.

My transition to NZ from Cairns was long-winded, requiring that I stay over-night at Cairns airport to catch an early flight to Sydney, from where I finally left Australia. I was assisted by Cairns friendly security guard who pointed me in the direction of the best seats for sleeping in. I finally arrived in Christchurch at 11pm and bed by 1pm, after a lengthy shuttle bus which saw me trawl through most of the city's outer suburbs dropping off returning locals. My first impressions of New Zealand were seeing these suburbs and the hills behind, scattered with lights, reflected in the still waters of the harbour. A good start. Christchurch itself was very quiet. The summer season has yet to start and there are few people around. There is also relatively little to see or do as a tourist in Christchurch. It is pleasant to walk around, being blessed with a spookily Oxbridge ambience (which would have confused my tired brain into thinking that I was in England, where it not for the occassional palm tree) and it has a great free museum with an exciting collection of contemporary NZ art. It also has a pretty botanical garden and parks which are nice to sit in and be quiet. As somewhere to live and work, I think it would be a fantastic place to stay but it is not a reason to visit New Zealand in itself.

In Christchurch I met a number of interesting people, including a oracle-like Israeli who had circumnavigated Tasmania by sea kayak, an American girl who had spent winter in the Southern Alps snowboarding and her Danish friend who was to spend the next year working in New Zealand. The American, Andrea, was a great help in terms of recommending things to do in South Island and also helped me to score a car lift down to Queenstown where I would be meeting a friend from univeristy (Andy Parker, for those in the know). She also invited me to join her on a tour of Christchurch's brewery, which I agreed to, given that I'd never visited one in my life! It was actually really interesting and the Kiwi beer does not taste nearly as bad as others that I have tried. The Danish girl Laura, would be joining me on the trip down to Queenstown in the car driven by friendly Irish chauffeurs. I left Christchurch pretty keyed up to see the landscape I'd read and browsed so much and after a few hours driving through the relatively flat and cloud-blighted Canterbury Plains, we eventually hit the Southern Alps and Lake Tekapo. We were met with the famous pale-blue water, marvelously inviting to the eye and backed up by craggy, snow-topped peaks, watched over a pretty stone church... and hundreds of tourists disembarking from tour coaches. I avoided the church which they made a bee-line for and took in the view from the shore-line. Then it was all back in the car and onward to Queenstown. The view improved exponentially, climaxing with the stunning sight of the Remarkables towering over vast Lake Wakatipu. We booked into a hostel and I set about locating Andy.

Queenstown is a small place (population 7,500) and aside from being a beautiful setting, is also regarded as Adventure Capital of the World, where one can take part in pretty much any life-threatening activity known to man. I limited myself to a spot of bungee jumping and the unexpectedly delightful Canyon Swing. My unofficial motto (i.e. it isn't my motto) is No Half Measures and so we opted for the highest available bungee jump, the A J Hackett operated Nevis Highwire at 134m high (440 ft, Imperial fans). This was to be my first jump and for those that have never done it, I'll try to convey some of the unique sensation, though it will surely be inadequate. Before jumping, I was not so much nervous as excited, though fear certainly crept in when I stepped up to the ledge. When they counted out 5-4-3-2-1-Bungy I half-dove, half-fell over the edge. I believe this was because just as I passed the point-of-no-return in momentum terms, my body suddenly piped up "Erm... what on earth are you doing?". I was told that many people don't remember the first few seconds at all but this was what I remember best, in almost complete sensory detail. Some people scream from the get-go but I made no sound, instead drawing in one sharp elongated breath, mouth frozen in a grimace. Then, the base of the gorge rushing ever closer, everything switches on and the first words that pop into your mouth are uttered at the highest volume and you laugh like an idiot before being plucked back into the air and you can relax, knowing that it is all down-hill from here, so to speak. Winched to safety, you arrive with cheeks flushed, body shaking slightly as you are released from the harness, proclaiming the wonder of what has just taken place. From here on out, the only danger to be avoided is the wrath of the staff, who appear disgusted at your unwilligness to purchase exhorbitantly priced DVD's and photos. I've never been made to feel quite so sheepish when asking for a free t-shirt.

In direct contrast are the staff at Canyon Swing, who suceed in making a fun ride into an essential piece of entertainment. They work hard for minutes at a time to freak you out, arguing amongst each other that this is incorrectly fastened to that and that it's probably far to risky to jump with such cowboy operators. They did their job so effectively that my first jump took me at least 30 seconds to make, so worried was I that leaping backwards into the 60m void would bring the end of my young life. As it happens, it's fantastic fun and I took a second go, where I was dropped headfirst, the release triggered mid-sentence, just to suprise me. The guys are tremendous fun and really make the whole experience. I mea seriously, Andy was dropped backwards over the ledge strapped into a garden chair. Hilarious. Definately try it before anything else, if Nevis is too much for you. Almost as hair-raising is the luge at the top of the hill over-looking Queenstown. For a bargain (it's all relative, obviously) $12, we got to rides down the suprisingly steep and bendy track on the little plastic carts. I was pretty incompetent and a hilarious photo does exist of me tearing into the final strait with several irritated children queing up behind me. The views from the hill are worth making the trip up and the walk takes about 1 hour if you're feeling limber.

Leaving Queenstown Andy, Laura and I took probably the most beautiful drive I've ever seen to Te Anau and beyond to Milford Sound. The highlight was probably Eglinton Valley, from where the views to the mountains at the end saw us pulling over every few minutes to admire and take photos. We stayed in Milford Sound's only backpacker place (Milford Sound Lodge) which was very pleasant indeed, though our sleep was sadly afflicted by simply the worst snorer I've encountered. I've never heard such diversity and volume of sound emitted from one man. I got no sleep and got up at 5:45 to admire sunrise over the Sound. When I returned, the guy had eloped preventing anyone from identifying him and administering some kind of violent punishment. I know fors ure that I wasn't the only one in the room wishing him the worst kind of pain imaginable at 3:32am. We had booked onto a boat tour departing at 8:55am that would take us out to the sea and back in 2 hours. Leaving at this time ensures that you get a nice peaceful setting before the coach tours arrive, and our boat was also very small, carrying only about 20 out of its capcaity of 40 or so, less than the hulks that otherwise cruise the area (check out Mitre Peak Cruises to get the same trip). This was certainly a breathtaking journey and I overdosed, taking something like 70 photos of the towering curtains of rock, gliding in and out to open and close the inlet to our view, snow-laden peaks occassionally revealed as we drifted along. It's a place I've wanted to see for some time and it lived up to expectations and I can understand the fact that 40-50 coachloads of people plus innumerable camper vans make the journey every day. It's a world class attraction for sure.

We headed back, depositing Laura in Te Anau, from where Andy and I took the Southern Scenic Route to Invercargill, where we would be spending the night. This was again beautiful and we commented that the journey is often the most exciting part of travelling here. Moving out of the Fiordlands, we entered rolling green hills covered in gourse bushes and countless sheep (many more than we'd seen to date), with one great view after another. We were thus a little suprised when we arrived in Invercargill to find it so unremarkable. It's a decent sized town (about 50,000 people) but it seems far too big, with wide open roads and very little skyline, making the sky seem vast. We are here for two nights, with Andy having decamped to Stewart Island for the day, leaving me to entertain myself in this pleasant but very quaint town. I've taken a walk round and not found anything that particularly grabs me but it is nice to see another side of city-life in this country. We did notice, with some amusement that the local youths take to car-modding to entertain themselves and a previously uneventful journey back from Woolworths supermarket saw us inadvertenly engaged in an impromptu drag-race on the main road. Small town life can get pretty big-time here, it seems. Tomorrow we take the Catlins road up the East Coast to Dunedin and then, who knows where. It's been a busy few days, for sure.

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Photos

Rainforest, Mission Beach
I fought the law... but this time I won

Me, Lake Tekapo
My first taste of NZ's finest export

Time to jump...
Emotional uncertainity was rife at this point

Four relieved jumpers
(L to R) Andy, Michelle (USA), Laura and Me (just)

Dead or sleeping?
The roads are very quiet... but how typical that a car passes just as I get up off the road

Comments

[TDV]

ah ha
well done daniel, discovering adrenalin is brown, and taking on the might of an AJ Hackett creation. Great work!! Forgot about your blog so very entertained now in the office having found it, will now catch up on your journey so far...