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