Day 61:Goodbye Kiwis, G'day Aussies

Thurday 4th February

Flying into Sydney and finding Chris

Distance: Bus, 6km, Plane 2227km, Bus, 10km, Walk, 3km

Total Distance: 8874km

Today began at...well, everyday starts at midnight, technically. I was up at midnight still packing. But eventually I got some sleep.

I woke after 3am, made breakfast including lots of coffee, and headed out for the bus. There were a few of us on the wee shuttle with me as the last to be picked up. Everyone else looked to be in a blurry state like me. Awake on too little sleep and knowing rest wouldn't come soon. We sat in silence. The dark was punctured by the odd monument or sculpture, lit throughout the night. I took a last glampse around Wellington. 

At the airport I tried to reclaim a wakeful state, aided by Smaug. Apparently he'd just smashed through the wall to say Goodbye to me. I then found a giant Golem hunting giant trout. Around the corner Gandalf sat atop one of the Giant Eagles, with another near by. All made by Weta Workshop. Amazing to see before I left.

And that was that. I flew out of Wellington. Goodbye New Zealand. It's been great.

Hello Australia!

Immigration was easy enough, but customs required a bit more. All that tramping in New Zealand made me a potential risk for the ecosystem- so I handed over my beloved boots for inspection and cleaning. Too easy (that's Aussie for...something)

9am and I'd been awake for hours. Time for coffee, juice, and wait for rush hour to end. And for the rain to stop.

Yes, it's raining. That's not normal here. Apparently they've had their wettest January in 30 years. It's green!

Eventually I got a public bus out to near where one of my university flatmates, Chris, works. The rain continued lightly as I walked down the road. I was just a street away when suddenly the heavens opened. I had to run, with everything I own on my back, round the corner and through the door. 

Chris had left his flat key for me at reception. I put on my rain coat and bag cover, preparing to walk to his flat. As I began the rain stopped. And my first experience of the boiling February Australian sun began.

I'm in Sydney! Sweaty, tired, and dehydrated. Time for a shower, tea, and bed.

Day 53, 54, 55, 56: Arthur's Pass: train and hiking

Wednesday 27th, Thursday 28th, Friday 29th, Saturday 30th, January 

Took the scenic train through the mountains to the wee village of Arthur's Pass, which sits in the National Park of Arthur's Pass, amid the region which is a gap in the mountains called, would you believe, Arthur's Pass.

Then a few days hiking before returning to Christchurch.

Distance: Train, 150km, Hiking, 50km, Train, 150km

Total Distance: 6169km

A lot of people have told me that the best way to go to Arthur's Pass is on the train. It's not the cheapest way to do it, but the buses aren't cheap either. With the train one gets a huge seat, commentary, wee cafe, and the ability to walk around seeing both sides whenever the view opens up into the grand vistas.

In the morning I hefted my bags through the rain and down to the station. There were a number of large coaches present discouraging Chinese and aged tourists out onto the platform. I got my ticket and handed in my rucksack at the luggage carriage. The staff seemed very pleased to have found someone who was not going with bags all the way through to Greymouth, but stopping off at Arthur's Pass.

The trains are luxurious. Each person gets a huge amount of leg room, headphones for the commentary (in English or Mandarin Chinese), and a window seat unless travelling as a couple or group (no sitting next to strangers). The cafe is relatively cheap (compared to British trains, aeroplanes, and road side cafes). There were a couple of viewing carriages that have no windows or seats, just a tall railing, so people can take better photos as the landscape speeds past. 

The terrain we went through was beautiful- on a good day. My outbound trip was not so good on the weather front. Mountain tops were concealed by cloud and everything was damp. However my return was much more pleasant, with clear blue skies showing off the great ranges about Arthur's Pass, the glacial valleys, and brilliant blue rivers.

To much an extent I've already been spoiled with New Zealand's mountains. These were larger than much of what I've seen on the bus or walking, but I'm not sure how much it is worth the trip for those already well traveled around the South Island, compared to getting to the Pass via bus or hitchhiking.

Having said that I'd definitely tell my parents to go via the train. It's prefect for anyone slightly older giving a chance to see a huge amount of landscape in comfort. They do a number of other train journeys in similar style, showing off the coasts.

Arthur's Pass 

My first afternoon in the Pass was miserable and wet. The weather was potentially going to improve over the next few days so it seemed most sensible to chat with people in the hostel and visit one of the two cafes in the village.

My hostel was once the hut used by Mountaineers travelling through the pass and used as a based to climb the local mountains. It reminds me of the older huts one finds up in the ranges which are maintained by the Department of Conservation. However "The Sanctuary" is far more hospitable than the huts, having a proper kitchen and bathroom. The place has a rustic, handmade, feeling, with much of the pipe work being exposed and the toilet having been converted from an outside to an inside affair only recently. The boiler has on the blink during my stay but with all the old radiators we were kept very warm in the 8-bed dormitory. Everyone loved the bathroom. The shower is just a shower head with its fixture attached to the roof above a bathtub. But the roof is made of glass! During the rain or on a clear day having a shower was a bizarre and interesting time. Just wish the roof was six inches higher.

That night I sat with the only other two guests in the dorm, one from New Zealand/Britain, the other from Australia/France. We chatted about the usual array of traveller topics, life in NZ, and I got useful advice on what to see here.

Once the weather looked better I decided to walk to the west side of the South Island. The village is nearly at the top of the pass. Going an extra few kilometres west one reaches the point where the rivers start to flow west instead of east. I found "Misery Lake", which was as cheerful as it sounds. The rain had caused a flood. Even the boardwalks over the marshes were flooded. I gave up after a little while. Time to visit something else.

Back at the hostel I met a new roomy, Anna from Germany. We were both planning on going to see the Devil's Punchbowl that afternoon- a magnificent waterfall (I heard 170m high) that drains a mountain valley. I'd been told of a path that we should/shouldn't use. The one beyond the viewing platform. Behind the "Warning: Rock Falls" sign. The one that goes to the base of the falls.

Let's do it!

The basic path is easy enough. From a roadside car park in the village, across a bridge over clear, blue, ice cold waters, and up through the forests. At the platform we found a small group of guys with a similar, but better plan to us. Using a tripod and camera on the viewing platform they stood as close to the base of the falls as one safely could with dignity intact, giving them a photo of themselves and the waterfall.

You know me. I have an abstract, liberal, view of both safety and dignity.

Hence I now have an atrocious video of the falls taken from far too close. Anna was sensible enough not to follow. By the Devil's Punchbowl the waters thundered around me like a hurricane to the point where I could neither see nor hear. It was magnificent. I was only 15 feet off and drenched. Head to toe. As if I'd been swimming. 

We happily retreated to the hostel. Everything on the radiators, me in the shower. I made coffee and we  huddled in the kitchen. Slightly damp, but now warm.

That evening we were joined by Tal from Israel. We chatted away through the evening until Anna fell asleep, at which signalled bedtime.

The next morning the weather had dramatically improved, thank goodness. Our plan for the day was the "must do" in Arthur's Pass: Avalanche Peak. It's an understandable name when you're at the top though. 

There are two tracks up to AP- the Avalanche Peak Track and Scott's Track. The Department of Conservation Wardens suggested going up APT and down ST. 

APT is very steep and requires some climbing using hands and feet to scramble up the route. For me this was an entertaining relapse into what I have learnt through years of climbing. For the girls it was somewhat more arduous. 

For 1 1/2 hours the wet, green, forest encroached upon the well warn route as we passed cliffs and waterfalls. Suddenly the bush line appeared. This is the point above which trees don't grow. Due to the cold in winter above this line there are only grasses and hardy little flowers. I've always found it a fascinating sight. That suddenly the dense forest stops. A stark change from dark green canopy to bright blue sky. Yet the summit was still not visible.

We walked for another 1 1/2 hours up and over small rocky hills. We were disturbed on occasion by the cries of birds. Suddenly the Keas descended.

Keas are the world's only alpine parrot, living in the high regions of New Zealand. They are far too clever, once having learnt to rip holes in the sides of live sheep to extract the nutrient rich liver or to disembowel live limbs to get at a stomach full of sheep's milk. Hence Kiwi farmers, over 100 years ago, putting a bounty on their heads.

Now there are only 5000 left. The sheep have been extracted from their territories. As a unique, endangered, species, they are now protected. Numbers are steadily improving, but the birds still remain annoying. They destroy cars during the ski season, begging and stealing from tourists in the summer.

They're still beautiful, intelligent, entertaining birds- and they know it.

We saw them throughout our journey, and they gathered around us atthe point were APT met Scott's Track. From here we had to scramble along the ridge (cliffs on either side weren't THAT big) and along to the summit at 1833 metres

We were lucky to be there on such a perfect day. The view was spectacular. To the North Arthur's Pass ran West to East. Across its far side we could see the  Devil's Punchbowl, still looking enormous, and the basin it drains formed by scree and snow covered mountains. To our East and West the floor quickly fell away toward scree slopes, cliffs, and grasses, eventually finding the rivers that drained each valley. And to the South ran, West to East, Crow's valley. The base of the valley was in the dark, deep beyond the cliffs. At its head we could see the magnificent sight of Crow Glacier. It was large, with a fern leaf pattern of blue cracks running across the white surface. Beyond it all stood grand mountains, many topped with snow, all showing eroded rocks with small marks of green.

At the summit we joined every other tourist in Arthur's Pass. And amazingly for New Zealand most of them weren't German! They were primarily Israeli. Anna and I learnt from Tal that there is an unwritten, informal, guide for all Israelis visiting NZ. People inform each other of great places to stay and visit, including certain trails that evidently the wider world should be more aware of, but isn't. Avalanche Peak is one of the major Isreali destinations, and I heartily agree. 

Granted, like much of NZ, you are a slave to the weather. In anything but a sunny day even just leaving the bush line is unadvisable. The weather changes quickly. Should the cloud cover come in you'd be lucky to keep to the path. Should the rain come in whilst scrambling over the rocks one slip could be fatal.

But we had all been lucky. The summit was surrounded by people taking a well deserved break. And Kea. Looking cute and harmless for photos, maybe a treat. Then, when someone's back was turned, they'd sneak in to steal whatever took their fancy. 

Finally we decided it was time to go. Scrambling back along the ridge didn't finish were we met both tracks. Nearly until the bushline Scott's Track proved to be all rock and big drops. However once amongst the trees we were not beset by the same amount of climbing as on the APT. Instead the descent was mostly switch backs with only the odd monkey act required.

At the bottom Anna and Til had to quickly pack up to catch a ride back down to Christchurch. I stayed on another day before getting the train back for another night in jail in Christchurch.

Photos!

Crow's Glacier

Sexy beast

Cheeky

P

P

Devil's Punchbowl

Arthur's Pass Village

Day 48: Shotover Canyon Swing and Nevis Bungy Jump

Friday 22nd January

I jumped off a cliff, then got pushed off the cliff in a chair, then jumped out of a cable car in the middle of a canyon. 

"LOL", "YOLO", etc.

Distance: Bus, 100km, free fall 0.8km

Total Distance:  5431km

I won the Canyon swing after a fancy dress party (turns out that phrase doesn't translate well- it's British English for costume party) at Lake Mahinapua where I dressed a Gandalf the Grey, complete with light on the end of my staff.

A group of 5 of us got a minibus from the centre of Queenstown out to the Shotover River Canyon, where we would be jumping, and the place where canyon swings were first commercialised.

The idea of a canyon swing came from the glorious sport of rock climbing. When we climb we are attached to a rope, which has a small measure of elasticity to it, the rope being attached the the wall and running down to a friend on the ground. Thus, when one fails and falls, the rope pulls tight (but with enough spring so as not to jolt and cause spinal damage), and hangs one from the wall, controlled by the well grounded friend (hopefully). We do like a good overhang for climbing though- where the wall's gradient hangs over head, such that the climber is not just holding onto the wall but hanging. There is still, if not more so, still the problem of falling. Because we are normally climbing above the last point we attach the rope to any fall pulls us backwards, towards that point, creating a pendulum as one falls, with a small free fall at the start.

Multiply this up a few hundred times.

That's a canyon swing. Starting on the cliff we each jumped off, free falling 60m, before the rope caught up and we swung along the bottom of the canyon, just above the river and rocks.

Great fun!

There's a whole bunch of styles and ideas- forwards, backwards, sideways, on a chair, on a child's tricycle, with a ukulele or a friend. As you can see my the photos I posted a few days ago I went with the no hands sideways pin drop and the leaning backwards on a chair over the abyss.

The guys there are very nice and very cool, with good music often changed to suit the jump if you're doing something particularly stupid- resulting in the jump seeming far less daunting. They laughed in amazement as my cool exterior when jumping fell away as I jumped, me screaming "like a dying cat" as I fell. I've got some great photos of them laughing their heads off as I fall.

In the afternoon I was off to New Zealand's largest Bungy, the Nevis, at 134m above the canyon floor. Just getting in the cable car taking us out to the platform gave me the jitters as it has a mesh floor. I could see all the way to the valley floor. When I'm climbing heights don't tend to worry me. Falling is a different matter. 

Once geared up I stood on the little plinth, well worn from countless jumpers, staring out, down, to my apparent doom.

Behind me they shouted.

"3...2...1...go!"

"No" I quietly replied, and without thinking took a step backwards.

The jump master came to my rescue.

"Look right a head", he told me, "into the mountains. Then jump"

"OK", deep breath

"3...2...", I jumped. Well, technically I just fell of the edge. Just like my bridge jump there was no finesse to it. I just fell off. Screw jumping.

I plummeted down, barely able to see, air rushing past me as I took in a breath...only to scream my way down. And up. And down. And up. And down.

There was a little tag to pull which would bring me to lateral by releasing my feet (waist still attached) to make the ride up more comfortable. I'd met a girl who hadn't managed it and came up feet first. All the blood had rush to her head, leaving her red faced and with a day long head ache. I was potentially going to be in the same position as the tag became caught around my ginormous hiking boots. It took some effort to release it, then release myself. Thankfully I got it and was able to enjoy the rest of the journey up and the beautiful view.

Back at the top the adrenaline and endorphins kicked in generating euphoria and a giddy sensation resulting in me jumping up and down on the glass floor section of the platform and telling all the people yet to go that it was amazing and not to be worried. 

'Cos clearly a nutter telling you to chill out is extremely reassuring.

Afterwards I went for a wee walk whilst the hormones dwindled, leaving me tired but happy.

My dreams that night were a strange breed of heights, falling, flying, terror and joy.

Photos! New Zealand's Biggest Bungy Jump, The Nevis! 134m

Photos from the Nevis Bungy Jump, again, I can't jump properly. Who the heck can? This is a stupid activity and I love it :)

Again. Screamed. And chickened out of the first count down. 

Photos! Canyon Swing!

Just a couple of photos from my 2 Shotover Canyon Swings

I screamed. A lot. Again.

Special Broadcast: I saw a Wild Kiwi!!!

Sunday 17th January

I stumbled into a wild kiwi!!!

On my last day of hiking through the forests of Stewart Island.

I was into the last hour of the track. I'd been making good time since the hut. Most of my food was gone- I'd finished the last of my bread for breakfast, leaving me with a couple of cereal bars and an old bag a gummy bears. I needed to get back for lunch, preferably for some of the Kai Kart's beautiful, fresh, fish n chips. I was steaming along. The last to leave the hut, again, I wasn't due to be the last to reach Oban. I kept passing small groups with each kilometre. 5 hours to get to Obam? Nah, I can do it in 3. The route is relatively flat, and much of it is quite straight, if muddy.

Minding my own business, just thinking of stuff, trundling along... then something brown ran off the track and into the bush.

This area was straight for 200 yards. If I'd been looking at the track I'd have seen it long ago. Yet clearly neither of us was concentrating- we'd been a few feet from one another.

And there she was, under a log. I whistled a couple of bird calls- I've been using that trick a few times here, to make the birds think it's safe. Make it sound as though someone else has been brave enough to be the first to emerge after this strange man appeared. 

The she began to look around at the ground. She started prodding her beak into the ground, sniffing for insects in the muddy ground. In truth, at first, I'd wondered if she was a Weka- I've seen plenty of them, and they've a similar size, shape, and colour to a kiwi. But not the nose, they're smart and adaptable, but not so specialised as a kiwi (maybe why there's so many of them), scratching at the ground like a chicken in search of grubs. Once I saw this behaviour from the dark silhouette under the fallen tree I finally knew I was seeing my first wild kiwi.

Becoming more confident she emerged, as I filmed, from under the tree, prodding around for her lunch. Occasionally she would toss her head back, swallowing a delicious find with glee, before returning to the hunt.

Yet as she moved there was something wrong.

The first kiwi I ever saw was in Wellington zoo. Here they have a kiwi that only has one leg. He hops around in a manner that still worries me (he deserves a prosthetic), foraging in his enclosure as the public watch.

Equally I've seen lame chicken and ducks, even treating a few.

My kiwi was walking in a similar manner. Her right foot was swollen and she wasn't putting weight on it properly. Above the swelling was a small metal ring- an ID ring, evidently made too small for her eventual large size. She was quite big for a kiwi.

I would later go and tell the Department of Conservation officers. Next week there's a team coming in to look at the local population and treat any as necessary. Having a rough idea of were she was, and being territorial, it shouldn't be too hard for them to pick her up in the nearby area. 

She looked to be eating well and was still getting about on the foot so I'm not too concerned, DoC will sort her out. 

(NB- normally seeing a naturally nocturnal animal, such as a kiwi, in the day time, means it's in real trouble. Yet on Stewart Island they frequently come out during the day, particularly after heavy rain when the ground is soft and the insects are more active. It a feeding frenzy and they're not energy going to let the sun stop them!)

As time went by she happily carried on eating from a fruitful patch of leaf litter. In my view, however, along the path, appeared a number of my fellow walkers, from either direction. Thank goodness the path was straight here. I quietly waved my hands, put a finger to my lips, mouthed 'Kiwi', before pointing to the little brown fluffy volley ball rustling through the undergrowth.

Getting the message each party gathered cameras from pockets quickly but quietly, tip toeing towards me smiling. Muted gasps followed before cameras were raised and shots taken. Everyone was quiet, slow, and no one used a flash- we were all on our best behaviour to keep the little delight amongst us. She look it all in her hobbling stride, mooching about, scouring the mud for more crunchy snacks. We all shifted as she moved, no one wanting to leave. The group had grown to 11 people all staring in amazement.

Eventually she wandered off into the forest, though not with much grace. A fallen sapling of many branches barred her way. She took a leap at it, attempting to get through the branches. Most of her made it. But not the giant feet. They were lodged for a moment and wiggled, reminding me Yoda jumping head first into Luke Skywalker's supplies the first time they meet, or when the chickens get sent head first into something in Chicken Run. She wiggled through and went off on her way to see what else the damp weather had brought up.

Day 39: Invercargill to Stewart Island

Wednesday 13th January 

Took the ferry to Stewart Island (I've left the South Island!) and landed on the birders paradise.

Distance: Bus to Bluff, 29km, Ferry ~40km

Total Distance: 5121km

There was a German kid going from the Southern Comfort hostel to Stewart Island so we set out together on a boring, neither grey nor blue, morning to take the bus out to Bluff. Along the way we chatted about our plans- like me he was going to do the little three day "Great Walk" of Stewart Island.

At the ferry our bags were packed away into large steel tubs and hoisted on board. We followed onto the little craft and found seats in the cabin with a table.

The start was rough, having to get out of the swell around Bluff before getting into the only slightly less turbulent Foveaux Strait. Outside the winds wiped up the surf as the boat hammered through the waves. We headed outside for photos and to try our sea legs, whilst chatting about how we were finally leaving the South Island and joking that we'd better look after the complimentary sick bags just in case.

Within an hour we reached the calmer waters of Stewart Island to disembark and set foot on a new land. There were already a multitude of birds in the sky and forest surrounded the little township of Oban, the one small community here.

We found our hostel, then went out to find the Department of Conservation building, getting the tickets for our walk accommodation. I dropped in to organise a ferry for the next day to Ulva Island, the largest island in the inlet by Oban, now virtually cleared of rats and deemed the best bird sactuary in the area.

The Kai Kart is on the next street serving the best Fish and Chips in all New Zealand. No kidding, we went for lunch and it was glorious. The seagulls looked at us expectantly as we tucked in, leaving nothing for them. The Germans in the hostel are presently talking about them as I write (in German- I'm able to get a few of the words, like "Fish und Chips")

We couldn't help laughing over lunch at the number of cars here. 400 people inhabit Oban. It's the only settlement on the island. There's maybe, including every side street, a total of 50km of road here, with the maximum travel distance between two places maybe being 10km, though Oban's only about 1/2km across the main centre. Yet there looks to be 200 cars. WHERE IS EVERYONE GOING??

Kind of surprised they haven't all just chipped in to buy 10 utes to leave for anyone wanting to move anything heavy. Not like anyone's going to steal them. I can understand the people further out having cars. I'm sure there's good reason for the rest, but still.

It's such a small place. And it's filled with cars! Half of them must be doing 2km per day! Oh well.

My German friend was starting the walk the next day so he went to pack as I went for a nap. I hit the hay pretty hard and was awake just in time to make it next door to the island's cinema. Yeh, they have a cinema. A proper one. Small, but it has proper seats and a decent screen. They have short-film festivals and every day at 11am, 2pm, and 4pm show a 40 minute film about the island and its history, presented by the cinema owner's dog, Lola. In the foyer Lola sits patiently for photos and cuddles- there's a hall of fame of her with such big names as Prince Harry. Before the show started a couple of people lined up to use the "make your own popcorn" machine before Lola rang her a little bell, relieved a thin slice of carrot as a treat, and we all went to find our seats.

The film revolved around "stories from the pub", going back as far as when the Maori arrived, through early days of whaling, sealing, and forestry, to the setting up on Oban. For a while Stewart Island wasn't actually part of New Zealand. No one really noticed this for years. The islanders brought supplies in from Sydney and life went on. Yet without checks at the port into Oban, and no checks from Oban to the main islands there was a loop hole. This was used by a local Maori to smuggle in gunpowder and guns which were traded to Maori on the main islands, so that they could have the advantage in intertribal wars. The initial attempt to stop this failed due to the legal loophole. Thus the island had to be bought by New Zealand from the Maori, with certain exceptions in laws such as allowing the continued traditional harvest of Mutton Birds by the local tribe, and protection for the rest. And thus Stewart Island became part of New Zealand.

There were attempts her to farm cattle and sheep, but these weren't profitable. The locals funded and built there own fish processing plant, enabling the local catch to be frozen for export on the island, making this business significantly more profitable for the island. Now there are fish and mussel farms, as well as the summer tourism, which is built up around the fact that nearly the entire island is a reserve hosting the country's rarest birds, including 50,000 kiwi, and off shore the one island to still have Kakapo.

That evening I walked around nearly all of the paths on the western side of Oban, seeing the wharf where I would be leaving for Ulva Island the next day, and a few of the birds still flying around.

As I arrived back at the hostel I was met by a phenomenal sight- everyone was in the garden and surrounded by one of New Zealand's parrots, the Kaka. The large birds were taking food off the table and people's hands as we all took photos.

Photo from Google images. Sorry, none on my phone, only camera. If anyone wants to sponsor an upgrade to tech that allows for transfers I'm all for it

Day 37 & 38: The Southern Coast and Invercargill

Monday 11th, Tuesday 12th January

Coast with only 4 on the bus, all of whom I'd met before. Surf cafes, Seals fighting, Sealion chase, view from the lighthouse.

Invercargill, hostel, museum and art gallery, The World's Fastest Indian

Distance: bus, 269km

Total Distance: 5052km

I was picked up early in the morning from Hogwartz by a wee bus. To my surprise there was only 4 of us doing the trip to Invercargill! And these were all people I'd met previously on the KE buses. So we got straight into chatting about what we'd been up to and how we'd faired. Two were British lads and the other was a young Dutch girl. Our driver was part English part Maori and had a wealth of knowledge about the birds of New Zealand.

Throughout the day we went to a number of different beaches. With only a small group we were very flexible, times weren't kept to and we just happily trundled through the day.

At the first cafe we got toasties and tea whilst admiring the pub/cafes structure and decoration- it was nearly entirely made from drift wood. We played pool as Meatloaf hollered out of the jukebox, before heading out.

The two seals were play fighting on the beach. Our driver had spent a lot of time explaining how seals would chase tourists down the beach and that we shouldn't run, but back away slowly. These seals didn't care about chasing us. Any time one looked at us his mate took a free swing. Thus we stood on the beach, filming their play, as they mouthed each other like two terrier pups.

On the next beach along the coast we came upon a Sealion who'd just come out of the water. He was tired, resting on the hot sand as flies invaded his personal space. Upon seeing us he blinked and went back to relaxing. We got closer. He shifted his weight. We took photos. He reared up yawn. And then tried to chase us. We all bolted for it, even the driver. After a moment we regained our composure and the Sealion sat back down for a rest. Fair enough, he's boss, we left him to it.

We stopped off to look at the Spoonbills' nesting site and seal colony next to a lighthouse which sat above a beautiful outcrop of rocks. 

Our final stop was at a wee cafe where we watched surfers, bodyboarders, and paddle boarders be joined by a playful dolphin. He didn't stick around too long, but wandered amongst the local teenagers before disappearing.

Finally we drove into the town of Invercargill - a place that really needs more people than it presently has. Apparently, whilst not presently a ghost town, there are fears it could become one. Don't really see why, compared to other places in southern NZ, seemed like a very nice place.

The hostel tonight was to be the Southern Comfort, a very homely place with a long list of Gemans in the guest book, but also Canadians, Chinese, and a Swede. Free internet too.

The next day I spent time talking to the other people there before venturing out to the museum. I quickly ran through some of the stuff I've seen elsewhere in NZ- though they had a very good little Galipoli display- in order to get to the Tuatara. This living fossil is the world's most ancient living lizard, having been about in its current form from about the middle of the time of the dinosaurs. They run a breeding program from Invercargill to boost the numbers of the declining population, whilst keeping a few on display for the public. They have tiny little babies, right up to a male that is well over 100 years old-who was very aggressive to other Tuataras, but in 2002 they found a cancerous tumour in him, removed it, and in 2006 he fathered his first clutch of eggs.

Museum also has a great section on the whaling the happens throughout the early days of New Zealand, and on the ship wrecks that occurred across the islands to the south. Some survivors perished whilst others built small villages.

Finally I found the World's Fastest Indian exhibit. Burt Munro, played by Anthony Hopkins in the film, came from and started in Invercargill, building motorbikes, the faster the better. He and his bike have their own exhibit in the museum, including a replica that smaller people than I can fit into. There's a bronze statue outside. A replica shell is in place at the local shopping centre.

But it you want to see the real thing, as I was told by a guy I met in the street who knew Burt Munro, you have to go to E. Hayes and sons. It's the sort of place were you can buy anything- from hunting jackets to mops to engine oil. E Hayes helped and supplied Munro. Now the store also incorporates a variety of exhibits from motoring history, including some Munro's tools, old engine parts, a variety of bikes, The World's Fastest Indian on continuous replay, and the bike itself. 

Day 34, 35, & 36: Hogwartz, Dunedin

Friday 8th, Saturday 9th, & Sunday 10th January

Bus to Dunedin, World's Steepest Street, Hogwartz!

Dunedin University City, Natural History Museum, Churches of Dunedin

Botanical Gardens, Aviary, Railway Station, Settlers' Museum, Speight's Brewery!

Distance: Bus Queenstown to Dunedin, 301km, Walking round Dunedin, ~15km

Total Distance: 4783km 

Dunedin's great! Why aren't more people going there!?!

Compared to the Kiwi Experience buses the "Bottom Bus" was a small older bus that reminded me of something from Forrest Gump. We travelled through a few small towns that had once thrived with the industry of Gold Mining now reduced to farming back waters or minor tourist destinations. One of these was Palmerston South- the southern counterpart to the town I leaved near on the north island, Palmerston North. They're not really connected in any way, but accidentally got the same name so became designated by their island. PS is no where near as big as PN. There's a monument on a hill over looking it to a local MP who was part of the negotiations as to where the capital city should be.

They also have a monument to the FIRST FROZEN MEAT EXPORT!

This was actually really important moment for NZ- frozen meat allowed more than just the tanned skins and fleeces could be exported. NZ had lots of animals it could profit from, but it was difficult to send them overseas. Suddenly carcasses could be sent to the rest of the world and the economy jumped and, unlike the early days with forestry, whaling, and gold, the farming economy was more stable and continued to provide revenue.

We came over the hill to Dunedin and, having expected a regular town, I was met with a city, speckled with medieval style churches, student flats, and university buildings.

We dropped in on the way in to Baldwin Street, the world's steepest street. At 19' it is very steep people were very bravely driving up the street or reversing out of their driveways. The houses either side have 1 storey at one side and 2 on the other. The council has used cement on most of the road to give traction when people drive up it. Must be a lot of people who come here- there's a refreshments stall half way up and a souvenir shop at the bottom. It's a street on a steep hill. I can live without the tshirt, thanks.

Time to go to Hogwartz!

Hogwartz was to be my hostel for the next 3 nights. It wasn't actually that Harry Potter themed- there was a little, but not a great deal. If that was all I'd gone for I would have been very disappointed. Yet I was also after somewhere nice to stay, with nice people, and nice surroundings- I really don't ask for much these days- and I really was very pleased with what I found.

The hostel was once a priory for the Catholic monks who went to the St Joseph's Church next door, which also has the nunnery on the opposite side. The design is the same as many of the buildings in Edinburgh, giving it, for me, a touch of home. There were many lovely people staying there and one of them, in my dorm, was a young man from the Australian army holidaying in NZ.

The Ozzie and I wanted to go see nearly all of the same things in Dunedin so for the next two days we went to things together, occasionally accompanied by an older Chinese guy.

DUNEDIN

The city was founded by Presbyterian communities from Scotland escaping religious persecution. They wanted to build a home from home and this Dunedin is based on Edinburgh. Dunedin is actually the Gaelic name for Edinburgh. It even has a Prince's Street and George Street, though they are not parallel, running along the same line, meeting in the Octagon, the central "square" of the city.

We end down to the Train Station, the most photographed building in New Zealand, one of the few still standing made of stone. Here there was a farmers' market so we bought fruit, bread, and salami at a surprisingly cheap rate- less than the supermarket!

From here we went on to the Natural History Museum. Being based on the University city of Edinburgh the founders of Dunedin invested heavily in the university here and the museum society, something I wasn't quite thinking of as we climbed the stairs.

"I've been to so many museums in New Zealand now I'm starting to feel kind of jaded. They all have the same sort of thing, I worry I'll get bored", I had to open my big mouth, of course. 

At this the museum employee just behind us piped up,

"Well we do have the Planetarium now, and there's the butterfly forest. If you go to the top of the  building we have the animal attic, New Zealand's biggest collection of stuffed animals." JACKPOT!

(I appreciate the killing and stuffing of many animals is not the done thing now, but they're over 100 years old and remain interesting.)

The museum did not disappoint. We not through the best displays of ancient Natural History of the country I've ever seen- even even better than Te Papa in Wellington, and I love Te Papa. Further up we found the animal rooms. The Empire apparently sent half of Noah's Ark here, although there was the occasional pair. Ozzie had done biology at university, and was thinking about doing marine biology here when he finished in the army, so we both had a significant interest in what we found.

There were also fossils of dinosaurs and Moa bones, a section about cultures of the world, including an Egyptian Mummy and a caste array of swords. Finally we made it to the special exhibit about Einstein before we left.

The university was just across the road, so we ducked in there. The students aren't in town right now, hence the quietness of the place, making our walk through both quick and boring. Excellent place, looked like somewhere I'd have enjoyed studying, yet without the people it was dead. 

Ozzie went for a run whilst I had a quick poke around the local churches.

These intrigue me as they are in the style of British churches- which are about twice the age of this nation. The time and skill to build these places is not easy to come by. The Sctos were determined though and they nearly got what they wanted. Nearly.

The church by the Octagon has a very plain back to it, incorporating the altar. This is entirely at odds to its front and midsection, which is decorated with all the usual details of a British church. Turns out they ran out of money after the First World War, and building ceased. It wasn't completed until 1971! I met a man who's father-in-law had been the architect. They had never had the money to match the architecture of the rest of the church, so he'd decided upon a simple, plain design, yet one that matched with the overall outline of the building. For all that it's unusual, the design does work, preventing the building from being an ugly mess it might otherwise have been.

The other church I went to was St Josef's. The Catholic Church had managed to build a similarly impressive structure, and had even completed it. However it was not as large as the original plans. The ground plans, like many churches in Britain, show the shape of a cross. Only the foot of the cross was built, the arms being missed out. It's still large and lovely though.

That evening the Chinese guy brought out his special green tea brought from China. We discussed methods and theories around tea making, as well as different forms of tea. His green tea was lovely, and we drank away the evening discussing New Zealand and our travels here.

On my second day we went, Pommy, Ozzie, and Chinese, to the Botanic Gardens. We took a frizz bee with us and had an hour in the sun and wind trying not to entirely destroy the garden. It got lost in a tree once, into the rose garden a couple of times, and then as I fished it out of a bush a bee stung my foot. Man down, man down! We ended the game there and went into the tropical glass house.

The tropical house was amazing- the Chinese guy and I took lots of pictures of the beautiful flowers and he told us stories of what could be used for different types of tea.

We trundled around the rest of the gardens, seeing the duck, the tree, and up to the Aviary. I've seen a few Botanical Gardens with Aviaries here, but none as large as Dunedin's. As well as an array of rare species they had many different parrots that were all entertaining.

Ozzie went off of the museum again, Chinese went to go have a sit down and make tea, and I went off to go see the Settlers' Museum. It was diverse and had a lot more about the actual people who were the first European people here than many other museums I've seen. There was even a mock wattle-and-daube cottage showing how the first settler's lived, and a reconstruction of the sort of cabin they would have had on the voyage here.

I stopped in at the Railway station afterwards. Only scenic tourist trains go through now, no public trains. Within there is now a large cafe, a museum, and an excellent and cheap art gallery- paintings by the local art society for 1/10th of the price you'd pay elsewhere. I nearly bought a $50 rabbit-the artist had done great work on the eyes, I've done many eyes, they're hard- the results are either terrible or amazing, and these were amazing.

There was one space left on the 7pm Speight's Brewery Tour, so Ozzie and I took them up. We were guided around NZ's oldest working brewery, got an education (Mr Speight was from Wakefield, near my home. He might have even been to my high school.), before making it down to the bar. Free beers! Many many free beers! And as the last tour we got in some extra, after hours, time! The glasses were tiny, but we kept at it and came away with a slight stumble. 

I didn't make it to the Castle, which disappoints me, but it's not a real castle, I think I'll be able to leave it for next time. Sounds good though.

Day 33: Queenstown, Queer goings on, Quite a ride, Quaint views

Thursday 7th January

Night out with a new bus group, an early morning in a jet boat, walking up the big hill next to Queenstown

Distance: minibus, 10km, walk, 5km

Total Distance: 4467km

For most normal people, by Queenstown, you've shared the same bus with the same people and driver for atleast a week, maybe three. However, at QT people split, staying more or less time here, going further south, going north, or flying out. Therefore, as a last hurrah, Kiwi Experience has a meal and pub crawl. I was on a completely new bus, didn't know anyone (which, after all the other buses I've been on, was novel), but still went out with them anyway.

I got chatting to the pair of British couples as well as the driver and the 5 German girls. They all seemed a relatively normal bunch. We had barbecue ribs, chicken, and chips, a few beers, pool games, visited a couple of bars for team shots, the usual. At the third bar I was talking to the bus driver. The driver-guides are always interesting to talk to, and this trip was his first solo, hence it was being an interesting experience for him. We chatted about New Zealand, different drivers, different parts of the country we travelled through, the sorts of people we saw on the bus, how different each person's trip was, and much more. 

Then it all got a bit weird.

He'd had a suspicion, but it was confirmed that night. The 7 German girls were cry open in revealing, on the dance floor, that they are a group of swinging lesbians, and one of the British couples were in a very open relationship- the guy had found himself the nice German girl from the bus known for always smelling of weed. 

"What's going on? I'm confused"

"Yeh, me too. Fergburger?"

Fergburger is New Zealand's best burger restaurant. Throughout the day it hosts a queue of over an hour in the centre of Queenstown. Turns out the trick is to go at unsociable hours. They open early in the morning and close very very late at night. We had a little wait, but not too long. Was it worth it? All the fuss? Everyone's patience? HELL YEH! Actually just scrumptious juicy succulent heaven. Nicely rare, beautiful sauces, all the trimmings. I'm not normally a burger person, but please, more, please! Have one for breakfast, or maybe a midnight snack- there's too much to do here to use up an hour- but it's even worth waiting for an hour if you have the time.

The next morning I was up at 7am to go on the Shotover Jet Boat. They've been running since 1965 and have it pretty well set up now, having taken over 3 million tourists so far. We got the bus down to the river and got the story of how a Kiwi farmer invented the jet boat to go see his sheep. The water in his river was too shallow for a normal boat, but a jet boat can function in next to no water, mostly we were in much less than 1 metre of water, even though the boat weighed over 3 tons. The farmer tinkered away and came up with this contraption, which turned out to be not only functional, but fun! We hammered down canyons, nearly smashing into many cliffs, rocks, and fallen branches, before being turned aside, or finishing with a flourish with a spin.

It was great, though I feel my adrenal glands have been some what over awed by the bungy jump. Cool thing to do though.

After that, and breakfast, I decided to climb one of the hills around QT. I walked up to 850m, where there's a cafe, viewing platforms, and a Jelly Bean gift shop. No, I don't know why.

Having done some exercise I came back to town and decided to sort out my next visit here. I'll be away for a bit, but I'm coming back for a day, maybe two. I checked in on the Shot Over Canyon Swing that I'd won, made sure my time was organised. After that I went in search of the Nevis Bungy office. This is NZ's largest bungy, at 134m falling into nothingness. Not even any water to dip myself in. It was going to be very expensive , but having done the previous bungy with them I got over 1/3 off. Frequently suicidal discount I guess.

I'm thinking about having an extra day here and adding in a horse ride/Lord of the Rings half day tour. There's a lot of chances to ride here, but it's not necessarily cheap. Kind of figure I need to do it once here though, and adding in a Middle-Earth tour too, makes it a must. 

Tomorrow I'm off to Dunedin, to stay at Hogwartz Hostel!

Day 32: Bungy Jump!!!

Wednesday 6th January

I did a Bungy Jump!!! Then came to Queenstown

Distance: bus, 67km, and I bounced half a km on the end of the bungy cord

Total Distance: 4452km

I did a Bungy Jump! Off a bridge! Into a glacial river! It was nuts! I'm so pumped now :)

We drove from Wanaka to the crazy Puzzling World with its maze, then to a giant fruit shop to pick up some goodies before getting on the road down to Queenstown. On the way we passed the Bungy Centre at Kawarau. There were just two of us, me and a little blonde American(?- some Europeans have an American accent, she isn't loud or shouty). 

We had our feet strapped together, attached to all the ropes and bits, then placed on a ledge over looking a river. It was a beautiful place. I didn't notice. Hmmm....that's a long way down.

43m over a river. It's the original site that AJ Hackett used after he invented, developed, then profited from people throwing themselves off stuff attached to high tech elastic  bands.

Still a long way down. Under the steel bridge the waters are pure blue, due to the water being glacial melt. They swirl under the bridge, disrupting the surface. I'd asked to be dunked in the water up to my shoulders. Well, you just have to, don't you? The lack of surface tension would make the landing softer. Still had to remember to keep my hands in an over-the-head diving position and chin tooked in. Safest way to do it. One girl off the previous bus didn't and now she has burst all the blood vessels in her left eye. Safety first!

3...2...1...

It's a very long way down.

I don't want to do it.

Just a little jump of the edge.

What if I catch my feet on the edge. That'd look silly and hurt.

Just go.

Looking back at the video I can see what happened. My knees sort of crumpled, and my feet did a tiny hop forward. It was like a Loony Toons manuver. As I left the ledge my body stayed upright. I fell standing. Then gravity and the rope caught up. My body slowly turned, the rope caught, and I decelerated just enough to dunk all the way up to my chest in the cold water.

I screamed

I screamed like a little girl

Then I screamed with joy

Then I screamed because I could scream

Then I screamed because no one told me to stop

I was dragged down into the boat in the river and taken back to dry land.

What a buzz. I'll post the pictures when I get them off our driver.

Day 31: Hostelling

Tuesday 5th January 

Hostel Life

Distance: ~0km

Total Distance: 4385km

Get up, get dressed, go back to bed, pass out so far you forget how to walk, realise you're late, grab what you need, find out that the Post Shop hasn't been open in over a week, so there's a queue out of the door and down the street, rationalise that it's now or never and the queue is moving, slowly, pack presents, organise box, stand in queue, get a shock at the cost (again), send box, realise there's a few small things I've forgotten, will have to send later, get back, find lunch, want to climb the mountain. Want to climb the mountain. Want to climb the...

So this morning didn't go so well. I'd been determined to get the package of presents sent home the day before, but it was a bank holiday here ("Stat Day" in Kiwi) so no post.

Desperation breeds danger. I was desperate to climb Roy's Peak that looks over Wanaka, giving great views at over 1500m above sea level. But it was lunch time, a scorching hot day, my right ankles not 100%, and I wasn't in the mood, even though this was my last day in Wanaka. No. I'm not letting you. Sit down, have tea, listen to Radio 4.

The problem with writing this blog is that I never want to say "I did nothing today". But that's what I do at home, some weekends (where ever home is at the time). Chill out, hide away, do things for me. Most of the "doing nothing" time so far this trip has actually been spent talking to friends and strangers. You meet some great, fascinating, and terrifying people here, as well as staying in some of the best and worst hostels.

The hostel in Wanaka is owned by an old man who was an extra in The Hobbit. He has a pretty rough sense of humour, like many farmers I know, which most people laughed off, but made on German woman very upset. Cheer up luv, don't get your knickers in a twist.

There were a lot of German backpackers, of course, but we also had an old American gentleman staying with us. In his retirement he had decided to make a habit of spending three months a year living in sunny Wanaka, away from the harsh northern winter. He was living in the hostel, but had found a small job working a few hours a day as a house keeper and we soon to move moving in with a family, occupying their spare room. He was enjoying hostel life, learning a little German, learning about where each visitor came from, watching his few DVDs on European history, which he was very interested in, practicing the piano at the local church, taking the short walk to the supmarket where they have free wifi, having an afternoon nap in his leopard print silk pyjama suit with eye cover.

In Rotorua I loved that the budget hostel there has its own geothermaly heated hot tub. I spent an evening talking to an Irish nurse who was out here to work on the fruit farms. Years ago they'd needed tourists to come in to do the picking, paying a reasonable wage for a few hours and the government giving a visa extension. Now, however, she was finding that farms could easily fill their labour force with people on gap years. Quite upset about it all she was struggling to get the money together to buy a car and travel elsewhere for work. There was a sheep farm she knew of that might employ her for a while.

Where did I mention the Swedish firefighter? He was funny fella. Working his way south he had a job offer as an oper (how do you spell it? Oh-Pear. Nanny. He was Macho Poppins), for a British couple on the South Island. Two boys, a multitude of sports to keep them busy, and now a firefighter to get them there. He was full of stupid funny stories of living in a fire station, with all the practical jokes that where played and wild nights had.

I love BBH. Budget Backpackers and Hostels. A New Zealand scheme collecting all the budget hostels  in one system, with a handy website, useful information, and a discount card. Most of the places I've stayed in have been effectively a large home, with only a few beds, a fully equipped kitchen, and lovely travellers. If not organised there's usually impromptu film nights or games, or someone suggests a local event to go to. Perhaps you make new friends, or meet people you've seen before in this small country. People find work, sell and buy cars, discover new experiences, and one can always ask the staff for local info.

Beats hell out of some of the larger hostels. Kiwi Experience (woo, yeh, *whistle*) and Stray (boo, hiss) are the two biggest hop on hop off tour coach operators in NZ. They both offer accommodation for your first night at every place they stop- still have to pay for it, but they've got it prebooked. So they need places that will have 55 beds available every night for them, and that the hostel can afford for these beds to be occasionally empty. Hence we stay in the largest hostels, with hundreds of beds, or purpose built accommodation. Some of these are great, but some are...not bad. For one night. But annoying. Why aren't there any proper tin openers? Or enough pots and pans? Why are the beds so soft they screw up my back? You've spent huge money on this place and I can't find a tea cup. I couldn't stay in these big places for long. They're OK. But a nice homely place is better. 20 guests instead of 200. People you can talk to and get to know.

On the other hand I've just walked into the kitchen at Nomads hostel in Queenstown and bumped into the Danish guys from Westport and a Dutch girl from the North Island. Travelling with the Kiwi Bus does mean that you bump into the same people time and again. Even if you don't chat much you get to know one another over time, travelling he same route, doing the same activities. It's a small country.

Day 28: Full bus from Franz to Wanaka

Monday 2nd January 

Bus to Wanaka via Fox Glacier, Dolphins, a reflective lake, and Blue Lagoon

Distance: bus, 278km

Total Distance: 4357km

We were all due to get up early for the bus. My dorm mates got up especially early, however, probably because of the very nice guy from Sheffield who has asthma couldn't stop snoring and none of us were really sleeping anyway.  Didn't matter, we had 4 hours on the bus to catch up on sleep.

There were more people for the bus than seats. Oops, someone in the office had mucked up. I was last on the list, but there were 4 who had been subsequently added. 3 crazy Australians and a German who's birthday it was. Well, we couldn't leave them behind! The German took the courier's seat at the front by the driver. One Ozzie sat next to him on the step coming down from the aisle. And at my feet, in the central aisle, the other two Ozzies found a comfortable place to lie down and sleep off their hang overs.

We drove out of Franz towards Fox Glacier. Our driver made a "wrong" turn, ending up on a gravel track between two farms, giving us all spectacular views on the Fox Glacier.

Returning to the correct route we got to a lake so flat it, on a good day, gives a perfect mirror image of the mountains beyond. The drizzle set in as we got there- not enough to ruin the day, just enough to make our reflections hazy. 

As we got further along the coast we passed a cove where two guys were enjoying the uneven weather with a spot of surfing. Someone noticed a couple of fins. We parked up. There in the waves were a family of dolphins. Hector's Dolphins, one of the world's rarest with only an estimated 175 left. We must have seen most of them! They were playing in the waves, or swimming as a group further out. We saw little but their tiny black dorsal fins, but enough to make the bus excited.

The Blue Lagoon is formed as melted glacier water runs down from the mountains and enters an old waterfall pool just before joining the river. The is now a bridge above the pool. A short walk took us down to where a large group of Germans and Brits were throwing themselves off the perfectly good swing bridge and into the freezing cold, refreshing, waters below. Our crazy Ozzies joined them, but even they said, whilst good to do once, not again. Not ever again.

The landscape changed dramatically as we passed over from the western Southern Alps to the eastern Southen Alps. We left Jurassic Park behind and finally emerged in Rohan of Middle-Earth, aka the Scottish Highlands on steroids. Gone were the rainforests produced by the rain coming off the Tasman Sea, replaced by scrubby grasslands of sheep, rocks, and lakes.

We made it to Wanaka, the town by Lake Wanaka. A beautiful place which advertises itself as "The World's First Protected Lifestyle Reserve"...which goes on to sound like a game reserve for the middle classes, or the village from Hot Fuzz. There's a few communities in New Zealand that feel, to me, like that's what they want- and you can't blame them. If I lived in some where this beautiful, with so few tourists, and especially with the raucous Queenstown next door, I'd want to keep it as it is.

Some how there were people I knew here from the Bay of Islands and other parts of my trip, so we went out together for an evening meal and drink. It's amazing how often one meets the same people time and again here!

Day 27: Flying onto Franz Josef Glacier by Helicopter!

Friday 1st January 

We flew onto the glacier! In a helicopter!

Distance: Helicopter, ~20km+ ~20km, walking ~8km

Total Distance: 4079km

How did you start your new year? Hung over? At work? I started it by taking a helicopter up to a World Heritage Site, the Franz Josef Glacier. Start as you mean to go on!

It used to be possible to walk up there, but as the glacier has retreated at a record rate (global warming!) it has become too dangerous to go near the face as I a and rocks fall regularly. The glacier moves at 0.5m-2m per day, one day of the fastest in the world. Our guide told us people used to leave things like their shoes at the bottom only to find that they'd been eaten by the glacier.

We were knitted out with waterproofs, boots, crampons, and warm clothing. The day was warm and, due to the reflection of the ice, would be hotter in the glacier, so the clothing was put in our bags just in case something happened. 

The helicopter took us 5 at a time on a 4 minute ride up over the valley and onto Franz Josef. Some people say it's a weird sensation, totally unlike a plane. Maybe I got a better pilot. The sensation was like nothing happened. Just sat down, lots of noise, then we were levitating over the land and out over the valley. Definitely getting a small helicopter for my midlife crisis. Might have enough money by then to afford it.

Once on the ice we attached crampons then were taken by our guide through the cracks and crevasses of the lower glacier. Apparently this is the only place in the world were one can pay to walk across this sort of terrain on a guided tour. (Ergo, you need friends, experience, or extreme bravery/stupidity to do it elsewhere.) 

We walked over the ice, then down into the cracks that a made as the glacier moves and the sun begins to melt it. The ice here is white, cracks having formed in the top most layer as the sun and air bubbles work to break the ice. Dig deep enough though, or find a place out of the sun, and it's back to the clear ice with a blue hue due to thickness and how the ice refracts light.

The ice is also often dirty. As it passes through the valley it erodes the walls and floor, making a while, deep valley, like we have in northern England formed during the last ice age. The eroded and fallen debris are gathered up by the glacier and ride in, on, or under it. If ground fine enough the rock can become powdered form in "rock flour", a putty-like substance with properties like corn starch paste (solidifies with high impact, soft runny when left alone. A bit like me). There were also a number of chips stock in the surface. Being dark they absorb heat from the sun more than the reflective ice. This heat is transferred into the local ice, melting the chip a little hole to sit in.

With the ice moving so fast trips are never the same. The guides build a path through the ice, cutting steps with ice axes and erecting banisters of steel poles and ropes. We climbed between and through the ice of ever narrowing cravasses (cravass: n. Big crack in glacial ice) until we reached the highest safe point. Beyond this point is presently a rediculously, phenomenally, unbelievably large hole. Size of your local village size hole. Probably bigger than that actually. We weren't going near it.

We went back via a few caves, glacial streams (which we drank from), and passed a helipad used by older people wanting a shorter, but still high, walk. Eventually we looped back round to our own helipad, de-cramponed, and levitated in a small steel bubble through increasingly strong winds to Franz Josef, taking in the Robert's Point platform I visited on Day 25 and the path to the glacier base I did Day 26. 4 minutes we'd swooped down and back to base.

What a ride!

We also got free entry to the centre's hot pools. I went back to the hostel, had a random nap on the floor for an hour, ate an early dinner, showered, then went back. I relaxed, chatted to a few people, and was eventually thrown out at closing time.