The Final Day

The sun rose on our final full day in New Zealand, and we woke energized for a day of hiking one of the country’s more popular trails, the Routeburn track. Up to this point, we had heard so much about the swing bridges on the various tracks -- suspension bridges only wide enough for one hiker at a time that sway and swing over rivers and ravines -- but we hadn’t experienced any. Routeburn promised several. It would also be our longest hike: we planned on about a four hour return trip to the the Department of Conservation hut located at Routeburn Falls.

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NZ is known to some as the bird capital of the world; what the island lacks in native large herbivores like cows or land-based predators like bears or wolves, is made up by a wide range of birds, flightless and otherwise. In the dense alpine rainforest of Mount Aspiring park, out of the car and with few people around, chirps, tweets and birdsongs filled the air above the distant churning of waterfalls and rapids.

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All hikes along sanctioned tracks in New Zealand have an estimated time for completion. So far, we had been way ahead of any posted pace. As our Lonely Planet guidebook put it: anyone not a ventilator will do a forty minute hike in twenty-five. Today, we were slow, taking almost two hours to reach the first hut at Routeburn flats; we had hoped to do it in ninety minutes. It was our first visit to a DOC hut this trip, and hut is an understatement. Lodge is closer. Each hut can sleep anywhere from ten to fifty or more hikers at once; they have running water, flush bathrooms and kitchens, and most are free if you book in advance. If we ever come back, we would definitely do an overnight hike or two and take advantage of the great DOC hut network throughout the country.

At this pace, though, we would be on the trail for almost eight hours. The next section of the hike was a steep climb to the Falls hut at a thousand meters above sea level, and we pushed. Breathing hard but enjoying the effort, we breezed past several groups of hikers; one guy asked if we were jogging. Not quite, but we made the falls hut in forty-five minutes, well ahead of the hour to ninety minute posted pace. A quick pitstop and a chocolate reward and back down we went, dodging past a loud and obnoxious group of young hikers from the States.

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Misty clouds hovered over the hills of the park throughout the day, finally turning to a steady rain on our descent. We got out the rain gear and laughed. The only rain we got was on our last day and we welcomed it. For once, we got to use all the rain gear we packed and we actually experienced the swings of typical NZ weather.

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Scanning the radio on our return drive to Queenstown, we first heard of the earthquake in Christchurch earlier in the day. We had left Christchurch about a week prior; hearing of the devastation and knowing some of the landmarks we admired had been destroyed, we shared just a small part of the pain many Kiwis felt on what the the Prime Minister called the country's "darkest day." Our thoughts are with all of the wonderfully gracious and welcoming people of New Zealand.

We both commented that it felt strange to be in a celebratory mood with the Christchurch disaster over the horizon. But it was our last night, and our last dinner did not disappoint. Armed with our new knowledge from the wine tour, we picked out a great bottle of wine and enjoyed a quintessential New Zealand meal: great steaks, tasty seafood and crispy chips. Simple food, done right in a diner staffed by international workers and packed with tourists young and old from all over the world, a picture-perfect slice of New Zealand.

Desert was in a restored historic hotel turned bar, where we met another guy from the states and a Queenstown local. She showed us a few choice bar spots around town and we raised a few glasses to our trip, our new friends and each other.

Tomorrow, we fly back home, and before long, back to work, winter and what feels like real life. Although, if there was one lesson we learned here, it's that traveling, experiencing new cultures and exploring new cities and countries is "real life." The stuff we have to do in between, you know work and be responsible citizens and such, is just what we do to experience real life again.

In Ferg we trust

In 1986, AJ Hackett established the first commercial bungie jump operation at the Kawarau Bridge in Queenstown, New Zealand. Since then, bungie jumping and other thrill-seeking activities like para-sailing, sky diving and jet boating have become staples in Queenstown, the last stop of our trip. We weren’t going to throw ourselves out of a plane or off a bridge tied to a rubber band, but Queenstown has plenty of other great activities on offer.

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For one, it’s located in on the outer edge of the Central Otago wine region. In just a few decades, the Otago region has established itself the leader in producing New Zealand Pinot Noir, our favorite varietal. But we didn’t want to just taste, we wanted to learn more about our palates and what makes the wines we enjoy. Our guided Otago tour van picked us up at our hotel at 9:30am; by 10:15 we were sipping our first wine of the day, in the wine cave of one of NZ’s biggest wine producers, Gibbston Valley.

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Then it was off to a smaller boutique winery at Olsson's, where we sampled cheese and chatted with the other two couples on the tour.

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With a little extra time before lunch, we stopped by Old Cromwell Town, the remnants of the gold mining town that sprung up during the Central Otago gold rush of the 1860s. Cromwell is the site of another hydroelectric power station controversy. Unlike the power station located on Lake Manapouri near Doubtful Sound, the Cromwell plant was allowed to dam the river, raising a portion of it into a lake, and putting most of the old city underwater. Community activists saved some of the important and interesting historic buildings by relocating them to up the bank of the river/lake and preserving them as a historic section of the modern-day town of Cromwell.

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A fantastic plate of meats, cheeses, fish and other gourmet treats greeted us for a vineyard lunch at Northburn Station, a family-run sheep farm that added vines ten years ago. Further up the road at Big Picture, we sampled the many smells in the Aroma room before taking a virtual tour of the Central Otago region.

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We tasted six different Pinots from vineyards dotted throughout the sub-regions of the Otago, each displaying the unique characteristics of its climate and geography. Central Otago is the same latitude in the southern hemisphere as Burgandy in France in the north and dry climate with large variation in temps between day and night make it an ideal region to grow the delicate and temperamental Pinot Noir grape. Finally, we ended the day at Peregrine, another large producer who distributes wines in the US: we’ll be looking for their wines under the Mohua label at Whole Foods.

Back in town by 5 pm, we had plenty of time to ride the gondola up near Bob’s Peak for spectacular panoramic views of Queenstown and the surrounding mountains, lakes and rivers.

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The water here is a surreal cloudy blue color from the rock flour created by the glacial runoff that feeds them. We had some fun on the alpine luge -- I, of course, secured victory in the last turns. After a short ride down the gondola, it was time for a burger at Fergburger, who, according to many locals, has the best burger in all of New Zealand. If the line stretching down the sidewalk to order one was any indication, we were in for a treat. We dove right in to huge, grass-fed beef patties and fresh veggie toppings with a zingy sauce. Definitely worth the wait.

Tomorrow’s our last full day in New Zealand. Hard to believe that three weeks have gone by so fast.

Cool down in the Catlins

As soon as we returned back across Lake Manapouri after leaving Doubtful Sound, we headed out on another boat trip, this time across Lake Te Anau, NZ’s second-largest lake, to the Te Anau glow worm caves. The glow worms are very sensitive to foreign sound and lights, so no camera allowed. We ducked under the low opening and held the hand railing tight, making our way through the wet and dimly lit cave. We stepped into a small boat, and our guide pulled us along through the water using a rope, away from the light and into total darkness. Slowly, tiny blue lights created by the glow worms suspended from the cave ceiling appeared, casting a romantic glow. Strange how little such little creatures can create a surreal, out-of-body experience.

After a few days jammed with activities, we hit the road and traveled to the southern-most part of New Zealand, the Catlins Forest. During the hour-long drive out of the largest city in the region, Gore (about 1,000 people), we passed ten thousand or more sheep and six cars. No cell service, no internet. Time to slow down.

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We arrived late and slept late, and for once, didn’t have much of an itinerary. With low tide until about noon, we headed out to Cathedral Caves, towering scars in the beach cliffs carved by the pounding Pacific surf. Seems like anything tall in New Zealand is named Cathedral something-or-other.

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Gazing south, the beach was the last piece of land between us and Antarctica, and the crashing waves and cloudy sky set an end-of-the-world mood.

The Lost Gypsy Gallery is a old bus turned into an art installation and collection, featuring loads of interesting toys, humorous pictures and random gadgets from around the world. The best, though, were the various hand-made automata, little creations that did simple tasks with a turn of a crank or flip of a switch.

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Through the arch for the Winding Thoughts Theater of Sorts in the backyard, we played with whimsical junk creations that gurgled, played old records or illuminated all sorts of absurd scenes when we pushed levers or cranked gears. Tim Burton would have a field day here.

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From NZ Developed

We spent the rest of the day bumming around the hostel, which was really more of a hilltop farmhouse, overlooking a sheep farm with about two hundred grazing, fluffy sheep. We lazed around reading, napping and recharging the batteries before hitting the home stretch.

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Before dinner, we headed out to Nugget Point, hoping to see one of New Zealand’s rarest birds, the yellow-eyed penguin, but it wasn’t to be. Back at the hostel, we met a great group of travelers from Seattle and enjoyed a wonderful dinner and conversations late into the night. The next day, we had another drive ahead of us, the last one of our trip. On our way, we stopped to see the petrified forest at Curio Bay, hoping again to see the yellow-eyed penguins, but struck out.

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A group of large sea lions loafed on the beach under the lighthouse at Waipapa Point at the far western reaches of the Catlins.

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From NZ Developed

The it was north to Queenstown, famous as the home of the bungie jump, and the last stop of our trip.

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Let's go further south

The southern Fiordland is one of New Zealand’s largest national parks; it’s also part of the South Island’s World Heritage Areas, recognized by the United Nations as one of the world’s most valuable natural areas. Doubtful Sound is one of the large glacier-carved finger-like fiords that make up the southwest corner of New Zealand. The tall inland peaks and dense subtropical rainforest makes the Fiordland one of the island’s most remote areas.

Doubtful Sound is only accessible by boat tour. We were booked on the Fiordland Navigator, a flat-bottomed boat with four decks, custom-built for cruising in the Sounds.

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Just to get to the ship, though, we took an hour boat trip across Lake Manapouri, one of NZ’s deepest lake and also it’s seventh largest.

At the far end of the lake is the West Arm Power Station, a hydroelectric power station whose contentious construction led to one of New Zealand’s most successful environmental advocacy campaigns. The original plan for the power station called for the forced rising of the lake by more than thirty meters, decimating the dense forest along the shore. A gigantic petition signed by more than twenty percent of New Zealand’s entire population forced a compromise between the power company and environmentalists: the power station could stay, but it could not affect the natural rise and fall of the water level. The hippies have a victory, our kind of place.

We rode a bus over the Wilmot Pass, NZ’s most remote road. It’s not connected to any other road in the country and is only accessible by sea.

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Shortly after launch, we went downstairs with the rest of the quad-shares and didn’t hear our name assigned to a bunk. After a bit of a panic, we found we had our own cabin, what a nice surprise! The boat cruised for a while, and we learned about Doubful Sound and it’s unique geography: the gneis and granite rock, and the dozen or so ice ages that shaped the fiords.

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From NZ Developed

Soon, it was time for sea kayaking on the sounds, very different than the kayaking we did on the open ocean at Abel Tasman park earlier in the trip. We consider it cheating kayaking. The boat dropped us off upwind, and we kayaked along the shoreline, examining the rock and native forest before being picked up by the boat downwind, the best kind of kayaking there is.

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Then it was soup time. We met a group of folks from the Sierra Club of Kentucky, probably that state’s entire population of liberals. The Navigator smoothly cruised along the sounds, and we took in the scenery, appreciative for not having to drive ourselves around for once.

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From NZ Developed

The ship went out to the Tasman Sea, stopping briefly to view more New Zealand fur seals before turning around and heading back in the fiord for dinner, during which we met another honeymooning couple from the US, this time from Minnesota. We exchanged stories and shoved our faces full.

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Wattie, the on-staff biologists, gave an interesting power point about the various native New Zealand species that are currently under threat, mostly from introduced predators like possums and weasels. Afterwards, it was up to the top deck to view the full moon and do some star gazing before heading to bed, slightly bobbing in the smooth sounds waters.

We woke up at 615am, on the dot, to the sound of the big twin diesel engines starting up -- just like the crew warned us. Today the sounds were rainy and foggy, a much different mood than the sunny day before. But no matter what the weather, the sounds are interesting. Rainy weather meant more waterfalls, and we oohed and ahhhed at the spontaneous eruption of water falls as they crested over stream beds and spilled over the tall cliffs of the fiords.

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The best part about the morning was the quietest part. The skipper turned the boat all the way off, leaving no human noise and requesting the crew and passengers to make no noise. We stood on the deck, listening to the bird calls and the pattering of rain -- no highway sounds, no construction, no TVs, radios or keyboards clacking. Just Mother Nature’s soundtrack.

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We docked just before noon, and were exhausted. We tried to nap on the return bus and boat trip. We still had a lot more to do for the day.

Sir Edmond Hillary's Footsteps

The picturesque town of Wanaka has only 3,000 or so permanent residents, but during the summer months, the clear, cool waters of Lake Wanaka, the expansive Mount Aspiring park and the majestic ranges to the south of town draw tens of thousands of visitors. The hostel bustled with activity even in the early morning; sweet and savory scents from all over the world wafted from the large kitchen as travelers fueled up for a long day of tramping, swimming and kayaking.

We geared up for a morning peak climb hike, pulling on boots and packing a picnic lunch for the summit. Our goal was Rocky Mountain, overlooking Diamond Lake and Lake Wanaka from the south. After an intense first twenty minutes of steep stairs and muddy traverses, the path settled into a steady climb up the 775 meters from the car park to the peak, through alpine meadows and tree-topped forests.

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Near the top, the trail narrowed as we switched back and forth across the steep face, until we bounded over loose rocks and boulders to finally reach the top. New Zealand’s most famous resident, Sir Edmund Hillary, the first man to summit Mount Everest, would have been proud, I’m sure.

The summit, no matter how high the climb, is always exhilarating.

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We stopped for while, enjoying the panoramic views over Lake Wanaka and the town and the glacier capped mountains to the south, before heading back down, picking our way carefully across the rocky paths and slippery forest walkways.

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From NZ Developed

Lunch wasn’t meant for the summit; peanut butter is far less interesting after an intense workout. We picnicked at a beach on the lake instead, and leisurely made our way back through the town. After a quick shower, we hit the town center, strolling between shops and people watching as we enjoyed a well-deserved local brew on a sunny sidewalk. Dinner was another grill session -- if there’s one piece of advice we’d share for anyone traveling to New Zealand: hit some good hostels and use their kitchens! Cooking our own meals gave us a real boost.

The sidewalk through Wanaka harbor is lined with tiles representing years in history, sponsored by local businesses and families. We started in the 1600‘s and got a quick lesson in world and NZ history before hitting a few of the local pubs. Nightlife in Wanaka, like everything else, is relaxed. No jam-packed bars, no nightclubs with long queues, no drunk frat boys. Just cold local beer and fantastic views.

We didn’t stay out too late though. Tomorrow we’re up early for a long drive to Manapouri, where we begin what’s sure to be another highlight: an overnight cruise on the remote Doubtful Sound in the far south Fiordland region. Much more on that to come.

Mount Aspiring Inspires

Hokitika is jade country, and we hit a couple of the workshops and jewelry stores around town to admire the unique greenstone and to pick up a few souvenirs. But we didn’t come to New Zealand to shop, we came to hike, and our target hike for the day was two hours south. We took a coffee to go and hit the road to Fox Glacier, the less-famous (and less jammed with tourists) of New Zealand’s big glaciers. We passed Fox’s bigger cousin, Franz Joseph, and stopped for a photo op along the way and were thankful to miss so many tour buses.

A short, rocky hike across a couple streams took us from the car park to the furthest lookout point for the glacier. The route was posted with warning signs about the dangers of unguided hiking on the glacier past the marked trails, complete with a news article from 2008 about several tourists who died when part of the glacier collapsed, creating a giant wall of water. We stuck to the track and were plenty happy to be a mere sixty meters away from the giant river of ice. The pictures we got only show a small portion of the ice sheet; it curves and twists its way up another few thousand meters into the top section of the mountain.

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The photogenic Lake Matheson was just around the corner, and we took the gentle hour-long walk around the edge, hoping to capture the reflection of Mount Cook in the lake’s dark water. Mother Nature had other ideas, though, as a light but steady afternoon breeze chopped up the usually smooth lake surface, and there wasn’t a alpine reflection at all. We met a few travelers from Israel who recently quit their jobs to travel for a year. One mentioned that our three week vacation was “a short holiday, given the weather, no?” Apparently, they hadn’t the luck we had with the weather and hit rain a couple times, meaning every couple of days, they were cooped up with nothing to do. We’ve had nothing but sun and 25 degrees celsius for the most part, beautiful summer days, every day.

Off we headed for our longest drive yet: three and a half hours nearly straight south, through Haast Pass, over the Alps again to Wanaka, in the heart of Southland. Haast is near the edge of civilization, a tiny hamlet of 300 with the last gas station for 120km. We stopped for dinner at the Antler Inn, and nearly stepped into northern Wisconsin. Antlers of all shapes and sizes hung from the rafters, and locals huddled around the formica-topped bar capped with a faux-leather edge. All that was missing for a true Wisconsin supper club was wood paneling and a walleye fry.

Haast Pass took us through Mount Aspiring National Park, part of the expansive Southern New Zealand World Heritage Zone, one of the largest nature preserves in the world. We curved along the milky waters of the Haast River through the valley, stopping several times to view waterfalls just off the roadway.

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Once again, our timing was impeccable: we hit the park just as the sun started to set. The mountain peaks went from bright gold to orange to purple as we drove, offering fantastic views and providing us a boost of energy after a long day of hiking and traveling.

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From NZ Developed

We hit another great hostel in Wanaka, this one parked on top of a hill overlooking the expansive Lake Wanaka with more sunset-kissed peaks as a backdrop. What a terrible time.

Moving Day

Monday is moving day. We’re heading from the east coast of the South Island to the west, from the Pacific side to the Tasman Sea coast. It began raining as we left Christchurch, the first foul weather of the trip. The steady rain gave way to a light mist as we snaked up the mountains and into the low cloud cover, a surreal drive into the sky.

We stopped in Arthur’s Pass National Park for a short, but steep hike up to the base of Devil’s Punchbowl Falls, a spectacular hundred meter falls made even more dramatic by the morning rain. The path took us within about thirty or forty meters from the foot of the falls, and we soaked up the mist.

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Bridal Veil Falls was a short but tricky hike through the damp and shaded mountain forest. We didn’t get nearly as close, as the path to the base of the falls was under repair and going was a little muddy and slick. Still, we got a great view of the falls and the tall peaks dotting the skyline of the park. All around the paths and up into the hills, streams burst into waterfalls, spilling over the sides of the canyons and bluffs.

We drove through Arthur’s Pass (955 meters above sea level) after a quick picnic lunch. I used the small gears on our little Toyota hatchback to safely navigate the sixteen percent (!) grade going down into the valley; we were now officially on the West Coast.

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The scenic overlooks provided dramatic views of the rushing river and many tall, skinny waterfalls that sprouted from the cliffs after the rain.

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At one stop, a few kea birds were causing a scene -- the curious parrots are famous in New Zealand for their playful antics and thieving ways. One bird made off with a picnicker’s bag of bacon; another chewed at the antenna and rubber piping on their car.

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Pushing along up the scenic highway 6 along the rugged Tasman coast -- not many swimming beaches or surfers here, the surf is much too rough and the coastline is more rocky than the peaceful sandy beaches of the Pacific coast’s inland coves -- we reached Punakaiki by mid-afternoon, well-ahead of schedule.

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Punakaiki is the only place in the world with formations of pancake rocks, stacked layers of limestone that do indeed look like flapjacks. We snapped a couple of photos, stopped for a coffee and hit the local grocery store to pick up steaks and potatoes for a Valentine’s Day cook out.

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We rolled into Hokitika with plenty of time to prep food in the hostel’s large and well-equipped kitchen and grill a great meal on the hostel’s back deck before heading to the beach to catch one of Hoki’s amazing sunsets -- just enough cloud for the sun to bounce glowing oranges and reds before dipping below the horizon, leaving a soft, dusky blue light, a great end to our first V-Day together. I don’t know if we’ll ever top it.

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Honeymoon Blooms

We wanted to splurge on a nice hotel in Christchurch to officially mark our honeymoon, and the Heritage Suites did not disappoint. It had a nearly full kitchen, complete with oven, a full dining room table and a master bedroom loft -- I never thought I’d be in a hotel room with our own staircase. Our suite was in a refurbished government building constructed near the turn of the century. The building fell into disrepair in the seventies and eighties and was nearly razed, but citizen lobbying coupled with a committed developer saved the original building. The detailed woodwork and stained glass were restored and the old offices were transformed into hotel suites.

We got an early start on the 13th, heading away from Cathedral Square, the center of downtown Christchurch, across the Bridge of Remembrance and along the banks of the river Avon. Even early on a Sunday morning, the punters transported tourists downstream toward the city center; like many things European, the Kiwis have adopted this Venitian custom while incorporating their own twist.

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Christchurch is known as the Garden City, and the well-manicured public flower beds and landscaping certainly lived up to the billing.

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We spent the morning wandering the Christchurch Botanical Garden, enjoying the subtle scents of roses and the vivid pinks, oranges and yellows of the dahlias and begonias.

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From NZ Developed

From NZ Developed

From NZ Developed

From NZ Developed

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We hit the Arts Center, which is housed in what used to be the Christchurch University, just before lunch. The Sunday arts market in the courtyard just outside the center was bustling as crowds mingled between the outdoor vendor tents and the inside rooms, each specializing in a certain artistic trade like pottery, jade carving or woodworking. Street performers were out in full force, as it was the International Busker Festival weekend; one particularly jolly sword-swallower in a kilt entertained a large crowd with jokes and blush-worthy innuendo.

Back at the hotel, we took a break for a well-deserved nap before showering and dressing up for a honeymoon dinner on Christchurch’s Strip, a couple block stretch of bars and restaurants with outdoor eating areas. A delicious steak and seafood meal ended with a flourish, a fantastic interpretation of tiramisu. We headed for the Dux de Lux, a local award-winning microbrewery, to sample a few offerings before making our way back through Cathedral Square and calling it a night.

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From NZ Developed

Tomorrow we’re back on the road -- we’re heading up through the Southern Alps via Arthur’s Pass for a hike to several waterfalls, before driving up the west coast of the south island to Punakaiki, home of the world’s only pancake rock formations.