Day 86: Fly into Alice Springs

Monday 29th February

Happy Leap Day!

Good Bye

Flying to Alice Spirings

Hot. Dry. Spiders.

New people! Hello! Gluten Tag!

Distance:

Total Distance:

We didn't really have to wake up too early, but it was really necessary. Today we were splitting. 6 of us would be going to Alice Springs. 1 was staying in Cairns. And 13 were off north, to Cape Tribulation. Hence we were up, by the roadside, me swallowing my vegemite on toast and coffee as the girls attempted not to cry. Hugs and heart felt sorrow. I've done this too many times already though. Throughout New Zealand I switched between groups and hostels all of the time. I wanted to do a tour like this to have a "home" for a change. Not to have to constantly meet new people and lose the old. In time I've become a big believing in the idea that the important ones come back though, by accident or design. This happened in NZ, as well as with the people I left after school and university. Phones, Facebook, Skype, and we can plan to physically meet up in the future. That's the beauty of the modern world. Still, it's sad to have our old home broken like this. I'll miss having them about. The time we had was great.

Time to fly into Alice Springs!

Not far out of Cairns the landscape went from sugar cane and forests to red scrub land. Occasionally rocks, mountains, and perfectly straight roads appeared. There was the odd mine. Then I fell asleep. And we were landing.

It was odd. Like opening an AGA. Very hot, yet very dry. Hence I didn't really feel it properly until I went into the air conditioned terminal. Bag collection, new "CEO" tour guide, mini bus to hotel, blog write ups, nap, food shopping, more sleep. 

At 7pm we all met up in reception. 6 new people joined us. A German guy, 3 German women, a Canadian girl, and a Scottish lass. It must be very odd for them when the 6 of us already know each other so well. We went out to the pub for dinner and a few drinks to chat. I got a steak bigger than my hand for $10-that's about £5! Wasn't ever going to be the best I've ever had, but it was still good. We chatted away to the new people and got to know them. Were about to spend a huge amount. Of time together, better to be friends!

Day 51 & 52: Christchurch

Monday 25th & Tuesday 26th January 

Christchurch was set up as an Anglican town on the marshes of the Canterbury plains. For a long while it was considered one of the most stable places in this earthquake prone country. Yet in 2011 a series of devastating earthquakes hit, along with aftershocks. After all these years Christchurch has gone from having to demolish all of its old, damaged, buildings and is working towards rebuilding.

Distance: Bus, 224km, walking, ~20km

Total Distance: 6019km

Getting out of Tekapo was somewhat easier than getting there, although some how I got the seat next to a guy who smelt of rotting chicken manure and decaying chicken corpses. Don't ask how I know what that smells like. Atleast I have a cold so I could only smell him through one nostril.

Arriving at Christchurch our driver dropped me just outside my hostel. It has been rated for many years as the best in the city, but made by the driver, speaking to the whole bus, made it sound far more sinister.

"My father once took me into Christchurch Jail. He was a warden there. Really creepy place. Spooky. Strange people. I wouldn't want to go in again."

I'm staying in Christchurch Correctional Facility! AKA Jailhouse Accommodation. The inside is lovely, white, clean and plain. Everything from staff tshirts, signs, bedspreads, and mugs are in the there of prisons- staff and signs are in jumpsuit orange, the rest being black and white striped. Three cells are maintained. The ground floor cell is filled with items from a standard cell, as well as a mannequin dressed as a warden. The cell above it contains artwork (graffiti) produced by the prisoners. Finally, at the far end of the building Solitary Confinement is kept, now embellished with cobwebs.

My room for the night

If you want age and spooky go to the prison in Napier, one of the first prisons in NZ and used for around 100 years. This one is much younger, and far less spooky. I enjoyed visiting Napier Prison, but not sure I would have stayed there. Christchurch, on the other hand, is one of the best hostels I've ever stayed in. It's well run, clean, friendly, the beds are great with a little shelf for a book and phone and 2 power sockets (some hostels are a nightmare for recharging equipment) . The toilets and showers have thankfully been upgraded since prison days (don't drop the soap!), as has the kitchen. 

Sorry, taken on phone when too dark...but look, prison mugs and table cloth!

Having performed an exorcism and the rites of Hades it was time to explore the city.

I quickly made for the train station. I'm leaving from here at 7:45am , so it's worth knowing where it is before a cold wet morning. From here I headed towards the museum, but wouldn't make it that day.

Firstly on my travels I hit the park and stumbled into the cricket oval, a site where they were clearing up from the weekend and where last year some of the Cricket World Cup was played. 

From here I went further and decided to take a short cut through the Botanic Gardens.

Hands down best Botanic Garden in New Zealand. 

I've been to a lot of them, nearly everywhere seems to have one. Dunedin's was lovely, but Christchurch was far better. The glass house is nearly the size to the one in Edinburgh, with smaller areas for rainforest, desert, marshland, and temperate displays. Outside is the large rose garden with each variety having its own bed, and surrounding borders including the large Dahlia border which was in full bloom.

Much of the garden is lawn and various trees, but also there are rockeries and native plant displays, a water garden, a long mixed border with plants from all over the world, a maple garden surrounded by Hydrangeas, and decorative plots by the road surrounding a painted fountain.

The visitor centre shows off how this is still a working botanical garden. Behind the cafe and shop stands a glass warehouse with rows upon rows of plants each in a pot ready for transport or to be transplanted. The area must be getting on for 200m by 50m, and that's just the nearly fully grown big stuff that they show off. 

View from the balcony in glass house

By this point it was 5pm so I had a quick wander to get a rough idea of where to start tomorrow, then went back to find milk for tea and Dominoes next to the jail for dinner. $5 for a pizza! I can't make a hot meal for that little (well, I can, but I like to pay myself minimum wage).

Next morning my first job was to find a library with computers so I could transfer my Canyon Swing photos from the USB stick to the Internet, then post the USB stick home. I grew up in Britain, I don't trust the post not to lose the parcel.

The useful thing about this excursion into non-tourist areas was that I could walk through the back streets of Christchurch, seeing normal life and what remains after the quakes.

In some areas they're having a complete revamp. Having torn out everything they're well on their way to getting shopping malls, multi-storey car parks, and offices built up to quake proof code. Many stretches of the street and pavements are fenced of as busy crews of skilled workmen, both local and European, work away or have tea breaks. 

On the other hand there are stretches where there's nothing but one wall and a stack of shipping containers. The area isn't very old, hence historical buildings might have stood for less than a century. Many of these buildings, if they didn't collapse, were condemned as unsafe. Yet the front face is a piece of local heritage. A dangerous piece.

Thus the buildings were demolished, but the front kept. Shipping containers (invented to enable the US military to transport supplies and vehicles during WWII, now used in their millions, celebrated for their simplicity and strength being entirely made of steel....I'll stop now)... Shipping containers are immensely strong, resilient, and relatively cheap so have been used extensively in the city. One use has been stacking them in front of old buildings. Stacks are about 6 high, with a stack of 3 on the roadside, held together with cables and attached to the building. Being so thick and strong this both protects the public in the event of a collapse, whilst maintaining the building.

Another use for shipping containers is the Re:Start Mall. 

Before I left the UK there was (another) flood that destroyed a towns shops in Yorkshire. The town set up a shopping centre made out of shipping containers. A rectangular enclosure was made of them, each containing a shop, with a gap for an entrance, an arch made by spanning 2 containers across the entrance. It was basic but worked well and everyone was happy enough. 

That's what I expected here. Something basic. Not what I found.

These are nolonger just shipping containers. They have glass fronts, proper doors, several containers joined together in a manner so you can't see the join. The interior looks like any other shop. There's even a container on the top of each with a sign for the shop it sits on. And everything's been painted in bright technicolour. Just looks like a create idea for a shopping mall, not an emergency measure to keep shops open. George Clarke would be proud.

(Check out George Clarke's Amazing Spaces, he sees as well as building some phenomenal things. He did a whole program on shipping containers, as well as people converting planes, boats, swimming pools, tree houses, trains, old buildings from the war.)

Most of your average shops are there, including the post shop, so there's now another wee parcel sent off to my parents.

Also, there were statues

Afterwards I visited the Cathedral. This was one of the oldest buildings in Christchurch, the city having been set up by staunch Anglicans, yet it was also one of the worst hit by the quakes, as were many of the city's churches. Stone edifices of 14th century design are not built to withstand an earthquake. 

This isn't the first time the cathedral has been damaged by a quake. 100 years ago the tip of the spire was broken off. Back then it was an annoying novelty. This time the damage is virtually irreparable.

Talking to wardens the parish wants a simple rebuild- even that totals over 60 million NZD though (£30m). Better that then the proposed rebuild by 'others' though (I didn't ask who the 'others' were. Not local parishioners by the way she said it.) would cost well over 200 million NZD (£100m) 

Either way the present site looks lamentable, waiting for a plan, whilst getting overgrown with weeds.

There is a shiny new cathedral though, and it's the largest building in the Southern Hemisphere made primarily out of cardboard! Had to go see it.

Imagine this. 12 shipping containers lined up in 2 rows, parallel, 12 yards apart. 6 tubes about half a yard in diameter and 4 yards in length, made out of a type of card board, are then placed into an arch, 3 forming each side. Repeat 98 times. Then put interlocking tough clear plastic over the outside. Add a wall at one end, doors at the other, and above the doors glass painted with images from the Windows of the old cathedral. And that's roughly what they built, helped by German engineering. 

It's an impressive structure with lots of additional features they are very proud of. The containers are all used for offices. The doors at the back can be completely opened out, useful when the place is packed out. There's a side chapel with a cardboard tube screen that opens out for use, or is closed to conceal during larger services. The enormous English oak lectern, altar pieces and Cathedra (that's the Bishop's big chair) were all rescued from the cathedral by a quake rescue team (after they'd saved as many people as they ever could).

It's all very impressive. I'm always impressed by the older churches here, in Europe we spent generations getting them up. Here, on the South Island, they did their best to build replicas in a few years, and many have lasted. Buildings of such complexity, weight, and size are increasingly difficult to build for us today- even here, such as in Dunedin, a hundred years ago people ended up taking short cuts due to time and money.

The temporary cathedral was one of the first buildings erected after the initial quake- they were finishing as the second quake and aftershocks hit. Yet they had congregations packing the place after each event, giving the local people the support and community they needed.

Time to finally hit the museum- mostly just a quick run through though.

First to the cafe though as it was 2pm and I hadn't eaten since I'd found a place that did chips and gravy that morning. Nothing to remind me of trips to York livestock market with my parents as a child like chips and gravy.

At the museum I found the cafe.

"Good afternoon, Sir, how are you today?", asked a very cheerful waitress. I had to stifle a laugh as I thought of Homer Simpson: "For once someone will call me 'Sir', without adding 'you're making a scene'"

I got some tea and was given a decent sized slice of date and honey cake, warmed up, smothered in butter. Yum. I do deserve the calories, honest. A read, a wee nap, and back on it.

The museum is huge. They even have an Allosaurus, plus an Edmontosaurus skull, Triceratops skull, and sauropod forelimb! 

Christchurch being the starting point for many Antarctic expeditions there's a big display showing their history, including much of the equipment they took, from clothes to exploring vehicles, such as the first tractor onto Antactica. A fine collection of stuffed animals too, both Antarctic and from New Zealand. 

There's the usual displays about Moari and Pakeha settlement, history, and culture, though larger than many.

There was an art exhibit of Jeff Thomson, showcasing his work and his talent. He works with corrugated steel, building everything from life sized giraffes, pigs, hens, dogs, and even a car, to bouquets and miniature houses.

Finally, my favourite, but not a fixture, Leonardo Di Vinci! A special exhibition showing his notes including, importantly, working models of his drawings! Well, working as in many could move. The flying machines still weren't going to fly, not the "robot" walk, but the ideas were all there. Flying machines, pulley systems, gearing ratios, pumps, levers, war machines, bridges, robots, musical instruments, ball bearings, ways to measure time. There were also a few of his paintings and a video about his life. 

Oh, and body bits. Well, very detailed models of bodies. Di Vinci, as an artist, and then as an engineer-scientist did a lot of research into anatomy. It was important as part of Renaissance art for students to understand the human form so as to draw and paint bodies appropriately. He went further however, looking beyond the superficial right down to the cranial nerves and the action of the heart. He did much that was against the doctrine of the church, which would eventually helped us all.

I left through the mock up of a Christchurch street from a hundred years ago...which was basically York as it is today, but with less neon.

Day 19: Abel Tasman, my first, longest, hottest day

Thursday 24th December 

A gorgeous, but knackering day starting through the Abel Tasman National Park Coastal Track

Distance walked 31km

Total Distance 3349km

"You are going to do this. One more hill. That's all it is. Nothing. You used to be able to do this in your sleep. What's wrong with you? You've become soft. You used to be so good at this. Too much time on your fat arse. Get up. Get up and go. Just do it. You'll be at your camp then, you can rest there. Go to sleep there. But now you're going to get over this last hill."

Some days you just need an old school team talk to get you going. Or, in this case, to finish. It was a long day, 31.5km over small, but numerous, hills, through stunning landscapes and seascapes. Mostly I walked in the forest, but the trail followed the coast, such that it was interspersed by the bluest waters under the clearest sky.

The day started with a lift from a German woman who was going to get the taxi to the furthest point along the walk one can, about 2/3 of the way along. She, like many people, was going to start there and walk back to her car.

As I began a young guy was doing roughly the same pace as me so we got to talking. He was from Sheffield! Which, given where we are, means we practically grew up as neighbours. As a builder he couldn't find enough work in the UK, but there was plenty available in New Zealand. A few years ago Christchurch suffered a horrendous earthquake, destroying many homes and city centre. Much of the population left. Since then the rebuild has been steady for various reasons- finance and building earthquake safe buildings being the two biggest. For two years he has been working there with many others. Only a young lad he's far from home but enjoying it. Soon he'll be eligible for residency.

We discussed home, living in NZ, the differences, both good and bad. What we missed from home, Christmas, Abel Tasman, and many other topics. Eventually we reached his campsite and seperated. It wasn't even lunchtime, so he was due for an afternoon of sunbathing and swimming. How boring, I had 7 hours of hiking ahead of me.

One can cut 30 minutes out of the hike by taking a low tide track along the beaches and through an estuary. Otherwise it's the high tide track- but this comes with numerous swing bridges and Cleopatra's Pool!

Cleopatra's Pool is part of a river including small waterfalls, lagoons, and many large boulders. I spotted Cleopatra's Eel- a 6ft long, 6 inch thick eel, calmly swimming under the boulders, which resulted in all the other tourists gathering round to snap pictures.

Having eaten lunch I carried on, up and over more hills, past more beaches, blue sky, blue sea, through the lush forest.

I had one last hill to do when I reached Bark's Bay. The his is a proper place to stop- proper campsite, lodge, filtered water fit for drinking. Hence I stopped for half a dinner, drank water, filled my bottles, then set out again before I fell asleep.

I was getting more into the walk at this point, but the last hill was still tough. Eventually I hit my own bit of paradise though- Tonga Quarry. There's a small island there confusingly called Tonga- obviously no The Tonga, just A Tonga. There was still the foundations of the works there, but also the beach and my little oozed sanded spot to sleep. I chatted with an English couple who had done my stretch for the next day, getting the low down on how nice and relatively flat it was. The tent went up, gear went in, bed made, and I passed out. 

Nice day, but should have been two!

Day 18: More Kayaking, and a lift to an amazing hostel

Wednesday 23rd December 

Kayaking near Abel Tasman, then chilling in a forest-hostel with more Germans

Distance: Kayak, 5km, Minibus, 32km

Total Distance  3318km

Today began bright and early with a few hours of kayaking east of the Abel Tasman national park. I ended up in a sea kayak with 1/3 of a wild Swedish trio who were hilarious, to the point that they were nearly better than the kayaking.

The down side to the kayaking was that it was too short. And in the wrong direction. Out west of where we started is the amazingly beautiful Abel Tasman, which includes a marine reserve brimming with life. 

I've been told before, yet had forgotten, not to buy the prepaid vouchers from the Kiwi Experience website. The vouchers ensure you are paid up, occasionally at a discount, to do certain activities. The ones available via the website are not bad, but they are the minimum. There is actually better available when one is on the bus, as well as what is on the vouchers.

Thus, if I did it again, I would have signed up to do a full day in Abel Tasman. Or, had I been with other people, I would have done what the smart people were doing and getting kayaks for a few days, putting gear on them, then going glamping on the various beaches. You can carry far more on a kayak than on your back! Some people had brought everything with them, including their barbecue. But, being solo, I'm not so keen to take to the seas. I don't have gills. Bad things happen at sea, even when just off shore.

After the kayaking I had a different hostel to get to. Being lazy and the kayak crew taking their bus in the same direction, I asked for a lift down the road. To my surprise they took we down the road, then up the long drive to my hostel. Lovely :)

Most of the rest of the day was spent sprawling about the hostel.

I love Budget Hostels here- especially the small ones, they always have so much character.

This one was high in the hills, surrounded by forest, with no signal (but no where here has signal), and with hammocks! I love hammocks.

I alternated half hours of reading and napping for a while, until I was joined by a dasselling German. She smiled at me and I smiled back. I attempted to turn in the hammock to talk to her, but, failing to make it nonchalant I put my head back... and blacked out. Have you ever fallen into such a deep sleep that you lose your balance? I did. An hour later waking up felt like being hauled out of a deep well. Forgetting nonchalant I dizzily made my way back inside. 

After a shower, dinner, and a coffee I felt slightly more human. I was sat in the kitchen about to write a blog entry when a German girl asked me if I wanted to join a small group of random Germans enjoying a pre-Christmas celebration. She'd received a dried mulled wine mix plus spice mix from her grandmother and made some carrot cake. Thus Christmas Eve Eve was spent with 5 Germans, switching between a language I vaguely recognise now and my native tongue, discussing everything from various international Christmas traditions, to German markets in Munich, Edinburgh and Birmingham, to what activities we were all planning for the next few days.

FOMO vs FOSU: Fear of Missing Out versus Fear of Screwing Up

The scariest thing I've ever done is move to New Zealand. A place I'd never been to, had no family nor friends here, to a job I'd never properly done before, on the other side of the world, by myself. Looking back, being scared was a logical reaction.

And yet I still did it. I packed up my gear and travelled all this way.

The first few weeks I could get by on the phrase "You are in New Zealand!". It was a simple phrase filled with novelty and hope. I was on a beautiful island on the other side of the world where the sun was shining, how could I not be excited?

And then came Christmas. No family, no cold nor snow, just endless sunshine. I have never felt so far from home before. Thankfully, though, Emma, a friend from University, had been working on the South Island and came to visit. Later I moved into a new flat in Bulls with two lads, Ben and Nick. And finally, on Christmas Day I was invited round to Ben's family home, with Emma, to enjoy a true Kiwi Christmas.

After that it got steadily easier. The flat was a lot of fun, I could socialise with local farmers at The Rat Hole pub on a Friday night, I got out and about exploring the North Island, and met a new group of friends in Wellington.

The whole experience has been great, no regrets, would tell anyone else to give it ago. It was all made much easier by knowing that I had a base and community when I got here. Not to mention that the Kiwis are all lovely people and if I needed help it was never far away.

Now, however, I'm letting go of all that stability and going off to see the rest of NZ, as well as Australia and some of the USA.

Back to being afraid. But also excited. 

"I'm a backpacker"

"I'm travelling the Pacific"

"I'm as close to a professional blogger as I'll ever get"

"I'm lost... Well that's not good"

I'm back to being on my own again, fending for myself.

Granted, I know NZ now, have friends here, and spend time travelling with others,but I'm still off on my own.

Australia and the USA are similar- I'm with other travellers, have friends in the country, but I don't really know the places, not like I know Yorkshire, or even New Zealand.

Being terrified that something, anything, could go wrong and screw it all up seems very reasonable.

What's the solution?

Knowledge.

I already know most Kiwis, backpackers, tour guides, Australians and American hosts will be kind and honest.

I know what I want- to see more of the world, meet interesting people, have great experiences- then I don't have to worry too much about the day-to-day, just go with the flow.

And if I have a decent idea of what I'm doing then I don't have to worry able it the big picture.

All of this will remind me not to be afraid. To be excited. To enjoy everyday of it.

Spending the whole trip scared of what might happen would be as useful as spending the 157 days in a box.

Thus I will be spending the next couple of weeks writing posts about what my plans are, potentially with some detail. Of course things will happen to change some minor aspects, but the basic idea is there.

Hopefully it will help me fell confident in the face of so much time on the road.

Wish me luck!