Well friends, in about 10 hours Jason and I set off for the Kingdom of Tonga in the South Pacific for 13 days of kiteboarding, full moon parties (ok, well, that’s just the one on Friday), conservative 1800s dresscodes (it’s illegal to walk shirtless in Tonga), and whales…lots of whales…we hope.
I’m crossing my fingers we come home with something even a smidgen as amazing as this:
Read the complete story at the San Francisco Chronicle by clicking the image.
Posted in Uncategorized
Hey folks,
This blog entry is about 90 days belated, but I spoke with the folks at home and got the message loud and clear that we’re not doing a good enough job at keeping up with the documentation of major events while we’re over here.
So, for the sake of all reminiscences future, here it is: WE’RE ENGAGED! Jason proposed on Osprey Reef in the Coral Sea, aboard a boat called Spoilsport, where we spent a week on a dive trip to celebrate my 30th birthday. It was sunset, there was a guitar playing Summertime by Billie Holiday (Jason swears it was not intentional), and yes, he did get down on one knee. His heart was beating so fast, he was stumbling over his words and not being his usual smooth self, and I called him out and gave him a bit of a hard time, having figured out what was coming, but he powered through and succeeded in making it a storybook proposal, complete with Veuve Cliquot and one-of-a-kind ring.
Everyone keeps asking when the wedding will be, and we’re not 100% sure, but one thing we do know is that it won’t be here, so if you’re reading this from the States, don’t worry, if there are invites and we do the big party wedding thing, you won’t be required to fly halfway around the world to celebrate with us. We’ll do it near home, preferably by the water, and with bluegrass (but don’t tell Jason about the bluegrass; he’ll put the kibosh on it before I get to meet my first band).
Apart from that, life’s pretty normal most days, not much different from the States apart from the working culture, but when we escape from the norm of everyday life, I agree with the ‘rents — it’s worth posting for posterity. Jason’s run through his first contract (at SkyCity) and has moved on to a permanent position at a professional IT services company called Lexel. I’m still at my job at Jasons, the travel publisher, having moved into the position of Marketing Manager about a month and a half after starting, though it’s been a year of constant flux and firefighting, and it looks like I’ll be moving on in the near future. I’m giving it another month or so, so we’ll see how it all shakes out.
We spent the winter driving to the snow on Mt. Ruapehu, aka Mordor, most weekends. I strapped on my first snowboard and went from novice to rockette in a matter of months, a journey that was punctuated with some pretty spectacular spills and thrills along the way. There was the day I caught an edge while out of control on a cat track and landed on my head at about 20mph, the day I slammed face first into a wall of ice in a whiteout, and the day I went off a cliff on my butt after ending up off-piste in a place I certainly did not belong, but I made it, and now I’m keeping up with the best of ‘em.
I’ve never been known as much of an athlete, and it was encouraging to find out in my adult life that, if I go after something with no fear and unflappable determination, I can actually master it in a matter of a few months. I can’t wait ’til next season. We’ve already bought our tickets.
My feet are all crazy and wrong, but you get the idea...
For the summer Jason and I have parted ways on the pastime front — he’s learning to kiteboard and I’m riding my horse-for-now, Lyssa. She was a birthday present from Jason, a 6-month lease to coordinate with the snowboarding off season. I’m teaching myself to jump, and after a photo session last Saturday, I realize my form is going to need a whole lot more work! I’m getting over, but my feet are all wonky looking, so here’s to another season of “try, try again,” “practice makes perfect” for me. Jason’s very much on the same wavelength with his kiteboarding. He took two lessons about month ago, and now he’s off to the races. I’m writing this entry from our Christmas roadtrip to Northland, and it’s all he can do in the rain-soaked weather we’ve been having to resist driving down the coast in search of breeze and leaving me in the dust in the tent (or hostel, now that the tent’s been thoroughly waterlogged). I’m ok with it though…he’s always had a need for speed. We’re both hoping it clears up so we can have to time to chase our hobbies over the next couple of days. In the meantime it’s” hunker down in the hostel” for us.
I guess the last bits I haven’t covered are living situation and visa status. Our residency permits came through in May of 2011, with 2 years of travel restrictions on them, meaning we need to be in NZ for at least 6 months of each year through May 2013 before we are official permanent residents without travel restrictions. We didn’t expect to be gone this long, but with the political and economic situations the way they are in the States, it makes sense for us right now. We miss home like crazy, but we’re embracing this experience and open to NZ being home for awhile. Who knows what the future will bring?
The "Glass House"
We’re living in an area called Herne Bay, just west of the Auckland Harbour Bridge. It’s considered one of the best neighborhoods in Auckland, and we think we just may have struck gold on our housing situation. We call our place the “Glass House,” and we’re flatting with a 21-year old named Akira, whose family owns the house. There’s also a 19-year-old named Joseph. It’s an interesting mix, having a 19, 21, 30 and 40-year-old in the house (yes, Jason turned 40 3 days ago, can you believe it?!?), but the house is unbelievable, and we all manage pretty well together. It’s 3 stories, the bottom being the 2-car garage, the middle the living spaces, and the top the bedrooms and the office. It’s a 3br/3.5ba and looks like something out of Architectural Digest. It’s floor to ceiling glass, with concrete floors and walls, all white, grey or black, with splashes of color by us. We have a pool, underfloor heating, INSULATION!! (NZ doesn’t do insulation…crazy, right?), surround sound, and American-size fridge with icemaker and water, dish drawers, projector TV and a great view from the balconies on either side of the house. The Sky Tower from the front, and Cox’s Bay from the back. Despite the horror stories we’d heard from others, winter wasn’t bad at all for us in the Glass House. The place is great. And at $450/week, it’s a steal in Auckland City. At that price it’d be a steal even for a kinda crappy place.
So we’re happy. Things are good. Life is moving forward, and we’ll try to post again while we travel over the 2-week Christmas break. In the meantime, check out the Australia album in our photos.
Posted in Announcement, Sightseeing
Ok, I’ll admit it. I’ve been dismal at keeping up with the blog since we got back to Auckland. I never intended for the end of our wanderings to be the end of our story, but the last few weeks have had us both very caught up, and I fear it may have appeared that way. Jason left for the U.S. on the first of November to take care of some business back home, so I put myself to work finding work full-time. After a few applications and a handful of interviews, the right job came along, and I snagged it. You are now reading the personal blog of the otherwise official Online & Print Editor for Jasons Travel Media, Ltd., a company that specializes in serving tourists and tourism businesses in Australasia. No, that’s not my Jason. It just seems I’ll be having a whole lot of Jasons in my life for awhile.
The position is a pretty significant shift from what I was doing in my last job, so there’ll definitely be an adjustment period, but the people are nice, the office is casual, and there seem to be some opportunities for advancement. What more can you ask for?
On a related note, upon acceptance of the job, our immigration adviser submitted Jason’s and my Expression of Interest (EOI) to the NZ government. We had 205 points and were guaranteed selection from the applicant pool with anything over 160. Like butter, our names were pulled this Wednesday, and we expect to receive our Invitation to Apply (ITA) for residency within the next 2 weeks.
A big part of Jason’s trip home was about digging up the myriad minutiae we are required to present upon application for residency, from certified college diplomas and transcripts to letters from every employer in our professional histories confirming that we do in fact have the work experience we’re claiming in our applications. I have never been more happy that I stuck with the same company for so many years as I was when I heard about Jason’s tribulations on his hunt for supervisors who worked a decade ago for companies that have long since been liquidated. Amazingly, he found them all. The last letter was signed today. We’re also being asked to provide articles that prove the nature of our relationship. Everything from old photos to travel itineraries and envelopes from invitations to friends’ weddings, postmarked and addressed to both of us, are being requested. If any of you get a request for a letter of reference, please do us a solid and help us out. We promise we’ll save you a warm bed in Auckland City.
In the meantime I’m learning the intricacies of life in New Zealand’s “Supercity,” summarizing them as well as I can for the end user, and compiling the information into handy dandy little travel guides. Jason leaves Jax tomorrow, and I’ll be seeing him bleary-eyed and jet-lagged early Sunday morning. I only hope he manages to get all our stuff on the plane and through Korea without incident.
Posted in Immigration | Tags: immigration, jobs
After leaving Mt. Maunganui we headed to the Coromandel Peninsula, and there we were inspired. We have figured out our first long-weekend excursion itinerary from Auckland and it is up for grabs to our first visitor.
The 309 Road turnoff
Visit us here in NZ and you’ll be entitled to a beautiful coastal drive from Auckland along the coast of the Firth of Thames. We’ll grab a beach bach for the weekend in one of the Coromandel’s countless cute beach towns…Whangapoua, with its lone general store, or if you’re up for more activity, we can try Whitianga or Coromandel town. We’ll drive the rocky 309 Road to meet farmer Stuart and his pigs, hike to the top of Castle Rock, or take a dip in the pool at Waiau Falls. We can even stop for lunch and visit the gang of cattle at the Coromandel Mussel Kitchen, with outdoor seating, a solid NZ wine and beer selection and lots of mussel dishes. We can pick up fresh Coromandel oysters for dinner apps at the Coromandel Oyster Company, go for a walk in an abandoned gold mine, and marvel at huge ancient kauris in the forest.
Stuart lets his pigs sit in front of the fire in the winter, or he puts them in his caravans with heaters running. They love him for it.
Coromandel Mussel Kitchen's cattle
Wandering through an abandoned gold mine, looking for glow worms
We’ll make sure you don’t miss Hot Water Beach, the Coromandel’s claim to fame, where searing hot water bubbles through the sand at low tide, and people flock to the beach with shovels to dig temporary hot tubs and engineer little heat rivers so their pool reaches that perfect temperature. I was so impressed by how hot the water was that I even tried to cook a mussel in it. It didn’t really work, but I did manage to scald a foot in the process. We can grab a shake at the beach shack and do lunch up the road at Hot Waves Cafe, then we can make our way over to Cathedral Cove before sunset and hike down to its breathtaking beach.
I'm clearing a hot water stream to our pool at Hot Water Beach
Flowers on the hike to Cathedral Cove
Cathedral Cove
What’s even more breathtaking is New Chums Beach, the subject of much debate and outrage these days because some boneheads decided to approve building a block of houses there. The beach has to be one of New Zealand’s most stunning and untouched. At present, no roads lead there, so you have to hike from Whangapoua Beach by crossing a stream, then clambering over some rocks to a trail that leads over a hill through some bush. When the bush opens up, you are met with a pristine beach nestled into a cove and flanked by cliffs on all sides. It looks like something you’d find in the Marquesas. Because it’s hard to get to, the crowds are thin, and you can set up for a whole day of sunbathing and picnicking free of the crowds, in communion with one of nature’s best seashores. There are islands in the distance, and you can hear the tuis in the trees amidst the sound of the softly crashing waves. New Chums is endangered at the moment, and I’m hoping that the combination of pressure from locals, tourists like me and celebrities like the Amazing Race’s Phil Keoghan, who owns a house in a nearby town, will successfully overturn the council’s approval to develop the area. I would ruin it forever. With a road and houses, New Chums would become just any regular NZ beach.
New Chums Beach
This amphibious vehicle drove right out of the water at Whangapoua Beach. Jason's in love.
If that’s not enough for you, we can dive the marine reserve or hire a boat (that’s “rent” to you Americans), go horse trekking at some of NZ’s most economical trekking ranches, or taste some kiwifruit wine down toward the southwest end of the peninsula.
Ready yet? He or she who books the ticket first gets the weekend. Jason and I have bets on who’s in first. Miss you guys!
Love,
Lara & Jason
Posted in Announcement, Sightseeing | Tags: Coromandel, New Chums, New Zealand
Ferrying out through the Marlborough Sounds
We jumped on the ferry to Wellington Monday and rushed north toward Taupo, about 4.5 hours away, in order to make enough progress back toward Auckland to make my 2:15 p.m. interview the following day. The plan was to hit some shops in the Taupo town center to pick up appropriate attire early in the morning, then beat feet for Auckland. The time pressure meant that we’d miss Wanganui entirely, but we figure we can come back through on a long weekend later this year. From what we could see of it, the drive to Taupo through Tongariro National Park, a World Heritage Site that boasts snow covered volcanoes surrounded by miles of red tussock grass rooted in undulating clay desert, was stunning. There was a 3/4 moon, so while the details were lost on us, the sky was clear and the snowcapped peaks were alight.
Jason looking nautical
Marlborough Sounds
Along the way we received a message from the recruiter for the job asking to delay the meeting by a day, saying she had overbooked and would like to meet Wednesday instead. We were crunched for time, so I was relieved to have an extra day to source appropriate office wear and shoes, plus do some background research and print a copy of my resume. Jason and I decided to spend an extra night in Taupo where we had free parking and a consolidated shopping district, plus a gorgeous view of the lake and surrounding mountains, then head to Auckland first thing Wednesday.
Lesson learned: Inexpensive office wear that does not scream “CHEAPO!” is not very easy to find. We found a couple of primo items on sale, but by and large I wrung my hands all day freaking out at what it costs a lowly office worker to look appropriate at work every day. End result: It took us 6 hours and a little over $600 NZ to get me outfitted for one interview and a first day of work, but let me tell you, I’ll look slammin’. (I also know exactly what parts of my wardrobe will be shipped out from the U.S. next.)
I have to thank Donna & Pete for gracing Jason with sisters, because he has turned out to be an excellent shopping assistant. He’s very patient, and he even picks out suggestions! We were both pretty worn out after running from shop to shop all day, so we went for some quick Thai noodles and headed back to Blackcurrant Backpackers for a rest.
I checked my email on the way there and low and behold, there was a message waiting from the recruiter. Her client had hired two people to fill the position that morning, and I wouldn’t be needed in Auckland. Great.
It took me awhile to decide how to receive the information considering the pain I was feeling in my wallet at that moment, but eventually I came around, and after some grouching with Jason, we decided to call it a reprieve. We hadn’t wanted to be back in Auckland until next week anyway. We drove back out to Tongariro this morning and captured the incredible vistas we’d missed on camera, then made our way north to Mt. Maunganui on the coast of the Bay of Plenty. We’re tucked away at Pacific Coast Backpackers now, looking forward to checking out this little surf town, walking around the Mount, and hitting the saltwater hot pools tomorrow.
Waitahanui River as it flows into Lake Taupo
Clay formations in Tongariro
Tongariro National Park
Posted in Immigration, Sightseeing | Tags: Coromandel, interview, Tongariro
Yesterday we stayed in the most disgusting backpackers we’ve encountered in all of New Zealand. The bathrooms were reminiscent of frat houses. The carpets were threadbare, and our room smelled like wet clothes left to rot. The place was billed as a backpackers’ “home away from home,” but I tend to think, “only if that home was a flop house.” It was a shame really because it’s right in the heart of Blenheim, the seat of NZ’s famed Marlborough wine region (think Sauvignon Blanc), and it has a stellar backyard with large common areas, but good God people, someone needs to find a housekeeping staff! We were so grossed out we both hesitated to shower this morning.
The experience was such a shame because so many of NZ’s hostels have treated us so well, with comfy beds, well-equipped kitchens and yummy dessert treats. We hated to have a bad taste linger from our last night in the South Island, so we checked out first thing and decided to move on up to Picton today. We set out on a tiki tour of wineries as we made our way to the sister lodge of one of our favorite spots so far, Tasman Bay Backpackers.
Riesling vines outside Renwick, Marlborough
We hit a very unique organic and biodynamic winery, called Seresin Estate, that uses all wild yeasts in their fermentation process, meaning their process takes longer than that of many other wineries because they have to give the yeasts time to grow and develop in the wine. It introduced a little bit of chaos into the winemaking process, but after a few years, the winemakers can pretty much know what to expect from their vineyards. We also stopped for tastings at Cloudy Bay, Georges Michel, Allan Scott, Wither Hills and Villa Maria. Jason’s chorizo pasta special lunch at Allan Scott’s restaurant was exquisite. (I always like other peoples’ orders better…go figure.) By the end of the day we found we were more and more discriminating about the varietals we tasted, making more and more use of the spittoons. There is such thing as too much of a good thing when it comes to wine, but we bought plenty, so we’ll be able to enjoy most of our favorites again soon.
Now we’re happily tucked in at Sequoia Lodge after a nice soak in the wooden hot tub, freshly rinsed of our Blenheim hostel cooties and sated from our yummy chocolate pudding dessert, courtesy of Sequoia’s staff. We’ll catch our ferry to the North Island from here tomorrow.
Sperm whale tail fluke
On another note, we also went whale watching this week in Kaikoura. We saw two sperm whales—one close up, one far away. Overall it was a very educational experience, but looking back, I’d say it was pricey for the level of excitement we got. I think I’d probably do it again if I wasn’t on a backpacker budget, but maybe we’re just spoiled because of sailing… Even though we didn’t see whales while we were aboard Tahina, most people we traveled with did, and I think the overall experience of living on the water all that time has made us biased about on the water activities. It just seems crazy to us to shell out $$$ for a couple of hours on the water watching sea life when that kind of thing was so much a part of our daily lives a few months back.
I’ve got a couple of applications in for jobs in Auckland, and Jason will be close behind once we’re back in the North Island next week. It’s scary to think that the return to the “real world” is so close to kicking into full effect. It’s been an amazing 10 months though, so while we know we’ll miss it, we think we’re ready.
Posted in Sightseeing | Tags: Blenheim, Marlborough, New Zealand, wine
Rangitata Raft
Today was one of my favorite days in New Zealand and my first ever white water rafting trip. A van picked Lara and I up at 8:00 a.m. and drove us 2 hours to a section of the Rangitata River situated at the base of the northern end of the Southern Alps. The rafting company, Rangitata Rafts, has exclusive access to raft this section of the Rangitata, thanks to family ownership of around 30 km of adjoining land needed to access entry and exit points on the river. We were told the family has owned the enormous cattle and sheep station for more than a hundred years and the land is now worth an estimated $190 million NZ. It was a typical New Zealand scenic drive in with lots of farmland and snowcapped mountains in the background. Upon arrival we were greeted by the owner Tussock and then served a quick lunch on the deck before getting geared up and heading for the river.
The Rangitata is a glacially fed river, and as we were being issued our rafting gear, the guide told us that 8 hours before we arrived, the water we were rafting on was frozen high in the mountains. Each of us rafters were given a thermal top, a fleece, 5mm wetsuit, neoprene boots, spray jacket, life vest, and a helmet. It all seemed a bit cumbersome, but hearing how cold the water is, nobody questioned it. As we all suited up, one of the guides gave us a rundown on the river and the rapids we would be facing. Worldwide, rapids are graded from grades 1 – 6, with grade 5 being the highest grade legally raftable in New Zealand. The guide explained that on our trip today, we would be facing rapids from grade 1 right up to grade 5 and that the first part of the trip would serve as training for the big grade 5s near the end. After the intro and once everyone was suited up, we hopped in a van with the rafts in tow and headed down to the river.
James taking the early plunge
Down at the river we snapped a few photos and were offered a quick swim if we wanted. The one British guy on the trip, James, actually jumped in and confirmed what the guide said about the cold water. As James recovered, the guides finished preparing the rafts for departure, and we set off. The first part of the trip is pretty much a float, and our guide Ben spent about 30 minutes training us on everything from how to hold and use a paddle properly to how to go down the river safely if we “fell” out of the raft. Actually he said we would not fall out of the raft—if we were to leave the raft, it would be because we were violently ejected. He continued to give us tips as we reached our first grade 2 rapid which was little more than a bumpy ride.
The river began to pick up a bit of pace at this point and we headed into our first grade 3+ rapid. We dove in, the raft bumped and bucked, water flew up all around, this felt like rafting and everyone had a smile on. For the next 30 minutes we alternated between smashing through small rapids and cruising along the river walls. All the while Ben injected little bits of information about the impending grade 5s that were approaching. Before we dropped into the first grade 5, Pencil Sharpener, Ben guided the raft over to the side and we all got out to watch the other guide boat go down first. We watched as the guide boat expertly navigated the drop into Pencil Sharpener, swished through the white water, and came to a stop on the bank below in place to take pictures and deploy a safety line in case any of us went swimming.
Pencil Sharpener
Now it was our turn. We re-boarded our raft, Ben gave the word to paddle, and off we went. The bow dropped over the edge and the two forward paddlers, James and Jason #2, disappeared right in front of Lara and I but quickly reappeared as the raft popped back up and then shot out the back of the rapid. Ben called for “full paddle” and we all dug in to escape the back pull, called recirculation, that tries to suck the boat back into the rapid. Later we were told we narrowly escaped the recirculation and going for a second ride which would have likely capsized the raft. Ignorance is bliss and we blasted down the next 40 meters of white water before pausing in a calmer section to allow the other guide boat to catch up.
We bounced through a few more smaller sections of rapids, which culminate in the massive 400-meter grade 5 section called The Pinch. As we approached The Pinch, Ben again pulled our raft to the side, and we all got out to watch the other guide boat go first, allowing them to get into photo and rescue positions. Ben gave us one last safety tip about trying to float feet first down river keeping ones legs closed if flung from the raft in The Pinch…something about legs making better shock absorbers than the neck, and keeping legs closed lest we never have children. Then he said, “Try to swim left. If you swim left, it’s shitty, but it’s more shitty on the right.” Without much time to contemplate the last statement, off we went.
The Pinch
This time Lara and I took the front two positions in the raft. James and Jason #2 took the middle. Ben gave the “full paddle” command, and into The Pinch we went. From this point on it’s mostly a blur. We alternated between paddling hard to avoid the dreaded recirculation and holding on for dear life, but eventually paddled, bumped, and bounced our way successfully to the bottom of The Pinch. I think my face was frozen in a smile, perhaps quite literally given the temperature of the water and the massive soaking it had just received.
Victory Rock
We used a back-flowing current and some hard paddling to reach a giant rock that’s in the middle of the river at the bottom of The Pinch and climbed aboard for a victory photo and to again wait for the other guide boat to catch back up.
Floating down stream
Once we re-boarded the raft, Ben informed us that we were welcome to jump in and float the next section if we wanted to. Being totally soaked already and full of adrenaline, we all jumped in and floated down, feet first and legs closed. We floated for about 150 meters laughing all the way, but the water was so cold that by the end I think we all had numb appendages. It’s a bit scary to realize how much danger water that cold really presents. After a few minutes it literally got harder to breathe. We quickly hopped back up in the raft to shake off the cold and headed on to the cliff jumping section of our tour.
Lara leaping from 10 meters
There are two cliffs near the end of trip that guests are allowed to jump off at their own discretion. The first cliff is only about 4 meters and is a required first jump before leaping from the larger 10-meter cliff. All four of us jumped from the lower cliff, but only Lara and James jumped from the higher second cliff. We were informed a girl had broken her back jumping off the higher cliff last year, so given my back history, I elected to stay in the raft as a spectator while James and Lara leapt. After the cliff jumping, it’s a leisurely 30-minute float down the river to the pickup point and a quick ride in the van back to the lodge and hot showers. After warming up and drying off, we were treated to an early dinner BBQ before the ride back to Christchurch.
The End
The day was a total success and I’m totally hooked on rafting. I can’t believe I’ve waited so many years to try this. If you haven’t been, book a trip now it’s SOOOOO much fun!
Tussock took some great photos, and all the photos from the day are posted on our photo site.
Posted in Sightseeing | Tags: New Zealand, Rangitata Rafts, Rangitata River, white water rafting
We’ve got penguins, wallabies and takahes…plus some cool rocks and Christchurch, post-earthquake. Go to our photo site >>
Posted in Announcement | Tags: photos
By and large, I’d say this week could be deemed “Animal Week.” We started with a stroll through an enormous 100-hectare public park in Invercargill while we waited for our new brake pads to be installed after thoroughly abusing what remained of ours in the mountains. To our surprise we found an impressively stocked aviary and an animal park inside, among other cool things, like the most-fun-but-risky-looking playground I’ve seen in years. The collection of different pheasants in the aviary took our breaths away. I don’t believe either of us had ever seen a male pheasant before.
Queen’s Park wasn’t the only striking thing about Invercargill. We were also impressed by its architecture, free city buses and the fact that the community supports the local polytechnic so well that Kiwis pay no fees to attend, and international students’ contribution is minimal. Seems like they have their community priorities right, working to create a high quality of life in a small city at the bottom of the world.
Golden-headed pheasant, Queen's Park
Baby tuatara at the Southland Museum, adjacent to Queen's Park, Invercargill.
Jason skates the playground "half pipe," Queen's Park, Invercargill
After leaving Invercargill, we headed northeast along the Southern Scenic Route toward Dunedin. The route takes you through a number of small country roads along the coastal rainforest and rolling pastureland referred to as the Catlins. It’s not as fast as taking a more major highway, but we hear the views are far superior to the inside route. We saw rows of tiny corrugated fishing huts dotting the riverbanks, nets holstered on the docks, gorgeous white limestone cliffs with sheep grazing below, waterfalls galore just a short walk from the road, and cavernous coastal caves carved out by a relentless Southern Ocean, but the highlights of our drives were the penguins.
Our first night out we camped at Porpoise Bay, a nearly unpopulated beach frequented by its own pod of Hector’s dolphins, the smallest and rarest dolphins in the world. They top out at a little over a meter long, and they are coastal dwellers, so they only live in New Zealand. The beach is also home to New Zealand sea lions, a much larger and more aggressive cousin of the New Zealand fur seals we’ve seen elsewhere.
Just down the road from Porpoise Bay is Curio Bay, a rocky coastal flat beyond the dunes, made of volcanic stone, that is home to what remains of a petrified forest destroyed many thousands of years ago by volcanic activity and eventually, the rising of the sea. Yellow-eyed penguins nest at Curio Bay, so we picked a rock perch and held still and silent for more than an hour as we awaited one coming home after sunset. He finally arrived, and everyone there sat stone still since yellow-eyeds are known to turn around and go right back in the ocean if they have people around bothering them, risking their lives after dark in the ocean with predators. He took a good long while to decide to make his way up, but he did walk on by and into the flax on the dunes before full darkness fell. We were both feeling like icicles by the time we reached the car.
Yellow-eyed penguin
Myrtle nested in flax for the night
Jason in Cathedral Caves, the Catlins
McLean Falls, the Catlins
After the Catlins we made our way to Dunedin, named after Edinburgh, Scotland. Dunedin was Edinburgh’s original name, and many of the street and neighborhood names in the city reflect that kinship. Dunedin’s architecture, especially its churches, is some of the most photographed in the country, and the city is home to NZ’s oldest university, the University of Otago. The city is built around a central “Octagon” and radiates out toward the harbor and foothills from there. The Octagon is the heart of city nightlife, and at the other end of the spectrum is the Otago Peninsula. We stayed in the former bishop’s residence, a monster of a place called Hogwartz, near the city center, and made a car trip to Otago Peninsula. The peninsula is fairly densely populated on the harbor side, but the ocean side is mostly hilly pastureland divided by drystone walls, UK-style. The peninsula is home to an aquarium, the Royal Albatross Centre, a few colonies of blue and yellow-eyed penguins, a large colony of shags (or cormorants in the Northern Hemisphere), and seals and sea lions.
After making an obligatory trip to drive down New Zealand’s “World’s Steepest Street” (no word on whether it’s really steeper than San Francisco’s, but it has a 19% grade), we drove out to see the albatross, and see we did, but only from very far away as they soared overhead. It turns out it’s breeding season. No one is allowed at the observatory to see them up close on land until next month. So, we watched videos and watched from the cafe and parking lot instead. From there the albatross looked like abnormally large seagulls, but judging from photos with scientists as a reference, they’re about the size of 10 or more very abnormally large seagulls. Next we tried our luck with yellow-eyed penguins nesting off the beach at Penguin Place, but the price was $40 each for a 1-hour tour, so we passed.
Railway Station, Dunedin
First Church, Dunedin
We left for Oamaru the following day, a former port town about halfway up the coast that has a thriving Victorian subculture and a few colonies of yellow-eyed and little blue penguins, the smallest in the world, weighing in at about 1kg. An Antarctic blast blew in early in the day, pelting us with hail and sleet on the way, and reportedly gifting the higher altitudes with some late-season snow. We stopped en-route at the Moeraki Boulders, a series of large boulders on the beach that look like the gods left them behind after a summer day playing bocce on the shore. They’re mostly spherical, and the cracked ones resemble giant geodes. It sounds weird, but it is truly something worth seeing, and they photograph very well—almost cooler in photos than in real life.
Lara, Moeraki Boulders
Moeraki Boulders
We stayed at Old Bones Backpackers just south of Oamaru because its double rooms and ocean view, plus the fact that it was totally empty, were too hard to resist. We’d heard it had been packed full earlier in the week, so I guess we just got lucky. We had the whole beach house to ourselves until a lone Aucklander came late afternoon, but we didn’t end up seeing much of her. She mostly stuck to her room until she needed the fire for a little heat.
In the afternoon we went looking for yellow-eyed penguins and were lucky enough to catch sight of a lone male about 2m from the viewing platform. A volunteer informed us he is wandering the cliff tops in the evenings searching for his mate, who has not returned to breed this year. We also laid out $20 at Oamaru’s little blue penguin colony to sit on the waterside grandstands and watch the rafts of little blues landing onshore after dark and heading home to their nests. We saw about 180 in an hour and a half or so while listening to commentary from colony staff. On our way out we had to check for penguins underneath before moving the car, and we ended up catching two mating on the ground as we drove away. They jumped up and ran away, so I hope we didn’t damage their chances by interrupting.
Today was a big driving day, but after reaching Christchurch, we hurried off to Willowbank Reserve, a wildlife park that features not only really awesome cuddly wallabies running free within the property, but a nocturnal kiwi house. Kiwis are New Zealand’s national bird, but their survival is endangered, like many of NZ’s native birds, thanks to predation by introduced mammals like cats, possums, stoats and ferrets. The only mammals native to NZ’s islands are bats. Everything else was introduced by either Maoris or Europeans. Because the birds in NZ have never had mammalian predators, many evolved to be flightless and nest on the ground, leaving them and their eggs totally vulnerable. The kiwi is the last of its group of relatives in NZ, which once also included a variety of moa—large hairy-looking ostrich-like birds, sort of resembling Big Bird, only brown. The moa were hunted to extinction for their oversized drumsticks by the Maori many years ago. Kiwis only have a 5% survival rate in the wild these days, so places like Willowbank all over the country work to remove eggs from the wild, hatch the chicks, then place them on predator-free islands until they are at least 6 months old and able to fend for themselves. We saw two of these tailless, almost wingless, nervous, hairy-looking little guys tonight, and they really are pretty cute.
I do feel bad for the possums we’ve seen shot and hanging from road signs or spattered on the road here. People hit them on purpose as part of the “movement” to defend NZ’s native species. I understand the need to restore the native order, but I wish someone could find a kinder way of eliminating these animals from the environment, or returning them to where they belong. Now if only we can find one of those awesome kiwi crossing signs along the highway, my kiwi experience will be complete!
Lara feeds the fallow deer at Willowbank
Jason gives a Willowbank wallaby a good scratch
Once thought to be extinct, scientists now believe there are about 400 living takahe.
SIDE NOTE: For those of you who’ve known me since I was a child, I had another run in with a biting bird that would not let go. It was as if this swan knew about that goose that latched onto my rear end on the beach in Ponte Vedra.
We’d been feeding some wallabies and deer while walking through Willowbank, and around a corner, a giant mute swan came paddling through the reeds. It stuck its head out like it wanted some food too, so I put some on the flat of my hand and held it out. The swan knocked the food to the ground, then went after my palm, seizing the meat on the heel of my hand in its beak, and seeking to pull it, independently of me, back through the fence around the pond and into its massive swan belly. I tugged back but he only clamped down, at which point Jason began thumping the swan repeatedly on the neck. With each thwack the vice only tightened until I finally asked him to stop, for fear I’d be missing a silver dollar of hand meat if this went any further.
Jason switched to using the carrot instead of the stick, and with the wave of a chunk of deer food, the swan was momentarily distracted, and I wrenched my purpling appendage free. Later we rounded the corner to the front of the swan’s pond and noted the large painted sign, saying “Don’t feed me. I bite!” The hand is still notably sore and a bit swollen. So much for my encounters in the world of water foul. I’m 0 for 2 on that one.
The evil mute swan
Posted in Sightseeing | Tags: Catlins, Christchurch, Dunedin, Invercargill, Oamaru, penguins, sea lions, Willowbank
Jason and I have done a lot since I last wrote a complete entry, so I’m going to do my best to summarize our experiences, reactions and excursions over the last week or more. We’ve seen microclimates and geographical landscapes that vary from the golden beaches of the South Island’s northwest coast, to the wild and windy dunes of the northern West Coast, the massive layered granite pillars at Punakaiki, the temperate rainforest that surrounds Fox and Franz Josef glaciers about halfway down the island, and the arid high desert that begins after crossing eastward over the Southern Alps. It’s quite an experience running through three of these regions in one days’ driving distance, and it’s not hard to do that in New Zealand.
Wharariki Beach
We took an overnight cruise in Fiordland last night on the Milford Wanderer on Milford Sound (actually a fiord), and the half-mile high sheer cliffs and avalanche-scarred tree cover were something to remember. There was snow all over the ground on the very steep road into Milford, with signposted avalanche warnings every half-kilometer or so, warning drivers not to stop. Today we climbed out of there and into gorgeous pastureland and limestone hillsides as we crossed east across Otago to Invercargill in the far southern end of the South Island, where we caught our first glimpse of the ocean in the Roaring Forties. We’re down below 45 degrees south now, and the wind was whipping at around 45 mph today off the water, but the air temperature was actually pretty comfortable if your could get away from the wind.
It’s not to say we don’t have natural sights as spectacular as New Zealand’s back in the States, because I believe that in the enormous expanse that our nation comprises, the U.S. could certainly come close to matching many of New Zealand’s breathtaking vistas, but here they are so much closer together, and many times so much more unspoiled. A person can go a day walking tracks or driving roads in the off-season and only see one or two other cars on the West Coast. Tracks are well-maintained, with facilities provided, and we have yet to see litter anywhere. The Department of Conservation does an amazing job. So good in fact that we have trouble getting very far on any given day because were constantly pulling off at small walking-tracks or viewpoints to check out some point of interest indicated on the DOC’s green and yellow road signs.
Accommodation in smaller towns, with the exception of large tourist centers like Queenstown and Wellington, has tended to be largely based in small privately-owned inns and self-catered units instead of high-rise Marriotts or Holiday Inns. It adds to the character of the place, staying in unique places and meeting the New Zealanders, or “Kiwis,” who own and run them. Every place has a different feel, with it’s own sets of bonuses and “idiosyncrasies.” In Nelson we stayed at a hostel that had hotel-quality double rooms and served delicious chocolate lava cake with ice cream every night at 8 p.m. The Innlet had composting toilets. Neptune’s in Greymouth had coal-heated hot water and bathtubs to avail ourselves of. Three days ago we were at a very homey backpackers in Queenstown with free wireless internet and a great living room, but we ended up in a dorm with a roommate Jason has since dubbed “the midnight masturbator.” We gladly changed rooms the next day when we heard some bookings had gotten messed up and we had to switch to a different dorm. Tonight we’re at the Timber Tops Motor Park in Invercargill with shabbier facilities, but we’ll be sleeping in the comfort of our own vehicle, after a dinner of the backpackers’ favorite, spaghetti bolognaise.
Speaking of sleeping in our vehicle, we’ve finally started camping! We left Collingwood after visiting spectacular Wharariki Beach and Farewell Spit, stopping in Motueka and grabbing me some new hiking boots, since my soles bit the dust along the Abel Tasman Coast Track. We headed South to SH6 along the Buller River, drove until sunset, then stayed at a DOC campground near Inangahua before reaching the coast, cooking with our new camp burner and rigging up our newly acquired camp mattresses. It turns our the mattresses are about half a width too wide to fit in the back, thanks to the wheel wells. We just wedged them in anyway, and surprisingly, we slept pretty well. We’d killed the battery again in Takaka a few days before by leaving the lights on, so I was pretty touchy about using the reading lights in the car, but our headlamps sufficed. Jason also unplugged all those annoying little door ding alarms while we were there.
We awoke bright and early and continued west to Westport, then south along the coast roast, SH6. It was pretty overcast and rainy as the West Coast tends to be, but we stopped off at Pancake Rocks and walked the 20-min track, which is free, though donations are requested. It was low tide, so none of the blowholes were going, but the formations are pretty stunning. They descend dramatically down to the water and are made of stylobedded granite, layered so they look like hundreds of pancakes in a tower. On a sunny day at high tide, I imagine the photos would be incredible. From Punakaiki we drove south to Greymouth, the mouth of the Grey River and the largest (really the only) city on the West Coast. Greymouth is a big coal town, and the trains, industrial look, and coal-fired heating systems reminded us of this at every turn. An award-winning New Zealand craft-brewery, Monteith’s, is in Greymouth, so we tossed in and went for a fascinating tour and very discounted $30 dinner for two.
Pancake Rocks
Weather in Greymouth was appalling the next day, but we’d done our laundry and booked tickets for a glacier hike the day after, so we had to get moving. We made it to Franz Josef mid-afternoon, and were granted the only semi-dry weather of the day to make the hike to the glacier terminus. Signs at the moraine entry said the track was closed, but we spoke with some Kiwis we saw coming back across the gates, and they said it was fine so long as tour groups were out there. They’d seen several, so we went. The walk to the base of the glacier was about 45-min, and I got to test out my new waterproof hiking boots twice along the way. Good news is, they worked! At the base, a huge muddy river was gushing out from under the ice, and keas, the world’s only alpine parrot, were hopping around on the green and orange moss-covered rocks. The glacier is surrounded by sheer cliffs covered in green moss and trees, and because it had been raining, there were waterfalls everywhere cascading down the sides of the ravine.
At the base of Franz Josef
Kea in flight. Just missed his beak! They're the world's only alpine parrots.
In preparation for our half-day hike on Fox Glacier, we camped at Fox Glacier town after a visit to Lake Matheson, famed for it’s reflective qualities and view of Mt. Cook. The next morning we were very thankful to have made the hike to the terminus at Franz, because the rain was coming down in sheets. When we drove to take a look at Fox, it was so socked in we couldn’t even see the glacier. We decided to cancel our trip and just keep moving, putting Fox on the list for a return visit.
We continued South along SH6 to the Haast Pass, turning inland toward Wanaka. The drive was incredible, because it had been so wet and rainy that along the pass, cascades were pouring down on the roadsides and the mountain faces. East of the pass, the weather changed drastically, dropping us into an area that looked very similar to Colorado or Utah in the spring. Snowcapped mountains were dotted with tussock grasses at the bases, with pasture land all through the valleys. We came upon some breathtaking glacial lakes (created by melting glaciers years ago), and had to stop. The views and colors in this part of the country were awesome. Wanaka is set on one of these lakes, and when we arrived, local boats were going out for their Thursday night racing as a small cloud blew in, pelting everyone with hail, then moving out. The town had the feeling of a small alpine ski village, only it has no snow, and rarely if ever does. The ski resorts in NZ tend to be outside the resort towns, high atop the mountain. Skiers bus or drive in daily. There were plenty of aprés skiers, however, and we used their cues to guide us to Kai Whaka Pai, a small but stylish bar/cafe with unbeatable lake views upstairs, that houses a radio booth where they do live dj sets on the radio in the evenings. We stayed at a dorm at Mountain View Backpackers, then grabbed a trail ride at Backcountry Saddles on the way to Queenstown in the morning.
Jason and Priggles ford the river.
Backcountry Saddles does trail rides for riders of all experience levels in the high country below Cardrona, one of the area’s ski resorts. Jason and I were the only riders on our trip, which worked out great. Two guides and one of their dogs came along, and we all had a relaxed morning trotting and cantering along the hillsides on Cardrona sheep station. About halfway in, we came upon an ewe laying on the ground, looking pregnant and distressed. We dismounted and tried to see if we could help her, but she was pretty far past help. She baa’d twice before we approached, but when we came closer, her eyes were glazed and nonresponsive, though her heart was still beating and her lamb was occasionally moving inside her belly. The horses came over and nudged her with their noses, and we tried to turn her upright, but her neck was totally limp. She died just as we were leaving. There was no farmer to contact, because the sheep stations are shared pastureland and the animals on them are simply tagged and color coded or numbered. Something else we saw along the way were herds of grazing red deer, raised in New Zealand as livestock on farms in fenced paddocks. They aren’t native here so this beats having them running in the wild on several levels. The meat is referred to as cervena, and tastes less gamey than wild venison.
We had a delicious burger lunch in the back yard at the historic Cardrona Hotel, built in the 1860s during the gold rush era, the continued on to Queenstown, where we landed at The Last Resort, a comfy little hostel with only 14 beds and a very central location. Jason and I stayed 4 nights, adventuring during the day and catching up on photo processing most nights. We rented gear and took a bus to ski/snowboard Cardrona’s last weekend of the season on Saturday, which felt like late-March in the Rockies. We couldn’t believe they were already closing, but apparently the seasons are pretty set down here and staying open for snow doesn’t tend to make the mountains any money. Cardrona has 3 snow parks, 2 half pipes and a range of slope difficulties, so it was fun for both Jason and I, and great news, I didn’t break anything this time! We actually spent most of the day skiing/snowboarding together, making for a nice day on the mountain for us both. We met a local guy named Mike on the bus back to Queenstown, and he invited us to dinner, so we brought fried apples and ice cream and joined him for a fish pie dinner at his little cabin above the lake. These cabins are also called baches or cribs, and their part of an old NZ tradition whereby families keep a little second house somewhere to get away on the weekends or holidays. They’re very small and simple, but they do the job, and their one of the most affordable ways to get housing while living in Queenstown, if you’re willing to deal with the small living space and lack of insulation. Sadly, the city council has called the land lease in and plans to bulldoze all of Queenstowns baches and replace them with high-rises in 2015. So much for that little piece of history.
After a great day at Cardrona.
My 29th birthday was Sunday, so it was “Lara’s choice” for Queenstown activity number two. I picked a jet-boating tour in Skipper’s Canyon, way down Skipper’s Road, dubbed New Zealand’s most dangerous road, and off-limits to all rental cars. The drive was down a single-lane dirt road blasted out with black powder from the 1860s-1880s by miners working to create an easy route down to the Shotover River, the world’s biggest gold-producing river until the Yukon hit in Canada. The cliffs along the road are sheer with no guardrails, and passing vehicles must reverse until they can find a passing spot if they meet at an inopportune place. At the peak of the gold rush, about 2000 people lived at the settlement at the end of Skipper’s Road, but they reached it on horseback. Today there are only about 6 residents in the settlement, and they supply all their own power and water for their homes. Jet boating was all it’s cracked up to be—high-speed, shallow water, thrilling spins in close quarters, the whole deal. If you haven’t heard of it, check out the Skipper’s Jet website. We thought it was the best deal for jet boating in Queenstown, because while it’s the same price as the more well-known Shotover Jet, you get the Skipper’s Road tour as part of the deal.
Jet boating Skipper's Canyon
For my birthday dinner, we went out with an American couple, Holly and Dave, from San Diego, whom we’d met on the boat ride. It was Holly’s birthday too, and it was cool to have a little taste of home culture after being away so long. We went to Prime, which is on the lakefront in Queenstown, and I had some very yummy salmon. Jason had a steak. Pricing was very reasonable, so we followed it with some beverages at the Buffalo Club with some folks from our hostel. We didn’t stay out too far past our bedtimes, but it was a perfect day. Thanks to Jason for making it happen so smoothly.
On Tuesday we took off early from Queenstown and headed south along the “Southern Scenic Route” to Te Anau, sharing our ride with a Philly boy named Jonathan who was headed down to interview at a lodge in Fiordland. Upon landing in Te Anau, we found out there was a special going on the Milford Wanderer, Real Journeys’ overnight fiord cruise, so we jumped back in the car and booked it to Milford. Road conditions were ideal, with no ice or avalanche warnings in effect, so we made the sometimes 2.5-hour drive in 1.5 hours, giving us 20 minutes to spare before boarding. We had a somewhat clear cruise out last night, but overnight the clouds moved in and this morning’s cruise was hazy and moody. I decided I liked it better that way. The walls look more imposing and there are waterfalls gushing down everywhere sine the rock faces provide no soil for drainage. The food was awesome and though the cabins were cramped, Jason and I ended up being the only ones in our 4-bunk quarters, so we were comfortable and each slept well. We saw endangered Fiordland crested penguins last night and this morning, as well as a dolphin and some sea lions this morning. One sea lion was thrashing a squid around on the surface while eating it, which felt a lot like a National Geographic moment. We had really wanted to go diving while on the fiord with Tawaki Dive, the only operator, but the prices were approaching astronomical. We intend to come back and do this one at the same time we do the glaciers, because we know it’s a once-in-a-lifetime type dive, but this time we opted for the $30 visit to the Deep Underwater Observatory instead. Milford is one of the only places in the world divers can see black and red corals in the wild, because the tannic freshwater layer of water in the fiord filters out most of the sunlight in the salt layer, and the corals think they are deeper than they actually are, making them accessible to divers. The Underwater Observatory has a stairwell that goes 11m underwater and allows visitors to look out into the fiord and see some black corals as well as any wildlife that may be passing by.
Milford Sound
Endangered Fiordland crested penguin
We debarked from out cruise at around 10:30 am and drove to Invercargill from there, stopping in Te Anau for lunch. It was a spectacular day of changing landscapes, and has us excited to start our drive to Dunedin along the Catlins Coast in the morning. We plan to get our front brake pads replaced first though, because all this mountain driving has started our wear indicators screeching. Yuck.
Posted in Sightseeing | Tags: Cardrona, Fox Glacier, Franz Josef Glacier, horseback riding, jet boating, New Zealand, Punakaiki, Queenstown, skiing, Wanaka, Wharariki
