Reader warning, there's lots here, make sure you've been to the loo & are sitting comfortably, failing that, tackle it over a few days.
I’m a bit daunted to tell the truth, much as I love writing, I hardly know where to start. Think I’ll post all the writing first then add photos as & when. (Some photos added now, more to follow over the next couple of days)
So I’ve had breakfast, MSN’d with Bloo & Hx, greeted the Tanners & now I have no more excuses. Listening to Brooke Fraser (more of which later)
Michelle’s typically robust greeting to me this morning was …
‘You’ve got crap timing you have, I’ve been at home for 5 days & now you’re back I’m not here all day.’
‘Morning Michelle, not too bad thanks’
I did get a huge hug so that’s alright.
I’ll start with yesterday if that’s ok?
Murray saved me a bus journey by taking me on the 90 minute journey from Nelson to Picton. The stumpy one came to keep us company, which I was pleased about as I wasn’t looking forward to saying goodbye to her. I’m not great with goodbyes.
Arriving promptly at the InterIslander counter I noticed the weather indicator jammed as far right as it would go, marking a place on the dial called ‘Vomitarama’. The worried looking lady told me I wasn’t sailing as it was too rough. She must have thought I didn’t understand as I replied with a cheery ‘ok then’. Truth be told, I had such a godawful crossing to Picton that I was in no hurry to repeat it.
She asked me to return at 1pm as she hoped they would be sailing then.
I informed a disbelieving Murray, who looked very taken aback. I think it had just dawned on him that he had to entertain me for another 90 mins. We found some lunch & took it to one of my favourite places in the Whole World ; Queen Charlotte Drive.
Once there, we ate, then sprawled in the sun on the picnic benches talking about how often as a kid you nearly die whilst playing in places you have specifically been told are dangerous.
I had taken elaborate precautions to avoid strap marks whilst here because I have to wear a gurl’s dress for an upcoming Xmas party. Murray, you will be amused to know that all my careful covering up went by the wayside as I now sport both strap marks and the most fetching panda-eyes from my sunglasses.
I wondered why the cashier looked at me oddly in Tongariri last night until I caught my reflection in the mirror. Very attention-grabbing.
Re-presenting myself back at the ferry counter I noticed the gauge had moved from ‘Vomitarama’ to ‘Rough’.
‘How is it out there ?’ I asked faintly of the cashier.
‘Conditions are easing’ she replied, showing diplomatic skills I could only later marvel at.
Murray & I said our farewells with vague plans of kayaking Milford Sounds next time, in the meantime remember Murray ‘If you can’t pronounce it, you probably shouldn’t paddle it’ For an antisocial bugger Murray is remarkably easy company & I found all the time we spent together very restful. There Murray, that should open the door wide to stalkersville ;) I look forward to our next meeting. In the meantime, the best thing about Blogs is you’re not stuck with that awful ‘Keep in touch’ thing that people say at goodbyes.
I have an idea about the CD, I will e-mail you.
The crossing is best left to your imagination, suffice it to say it wasn’t as bad as last time (when you’ve done 6 metre swells, 3 metres is for pussies). Just at the point I thought we would never arrive I noticed a squiggle of movement in the sea to my left. As I looked closer I saw it was a dolphin, closer examination revealed 4 more. I watched them for a total of perhaps 6 seconds before they disappeared but it was enough.
Initially I wanted to shout out but 2 things prevented me. Firstly, the Kiwi to my left had been speaking in very knowledgeable terms about the sea & I suspected he may be a sailor who would possibly be underwhelmed to be grabbed by a lunatic yelling ‘Look, look !’ Secondly and for far more selfish reasons I wanted to hug my sighting close to myself & leave the general world oblivious to what I alone had seen.
(Murray, they were grey, quite small, with a light grey slash along their flanks. Were these duskies ?)
I spent the next 90 minutes scanning the seas hoping to get a repeat viewing but it wasn’t to be. I firmly believe things happen for a reason & if I had taken the 1130 crossing I may not have seen dolphins. It fulfils a wish I have always had & I was very sad to be leaving NZ again without having seen a dolphin. The 3 hours & 30 minutes of nausea was completely justified by that 6 second sighting.
During my crossing I was liaising with Cedar Lodge asking bus times up the island. Eric replied that there was a bus which left Welly at 1950 & got into Tirau at 0400. He said he was more than happy to come get me. Lunatic.
Luckily, I remembered something Milky’s Mum had said about Avis. She had told me that if you dropped off a car for them at Auckland airport, you could hire one for $20 plus fuel. Sure enough they had one available, so with huge relief at not having to wake Eric at ‘Ohmygod’ I piled into it, braved the 5 minute traffic jam & headed North & the 500ks between me & my bed.
I must say here, if you’re planning to visit NZ, don’t bother with ‘RoughGuide’, ‘Lonely Planet’ or any such nonsense, just have Milky’s Mum’s telephone number available. What she doesn’t know, isn’t worth knowing. Not only did she save my hide with Avis (I couldn’t have afforded a ‘normal’ rental), but she also texted me the day that NZ Vodafone were doing a limited text top-up, thus gaining me $40 worth of credit for $20. I don’t know how I can repay your kindness (except by putting up Milky on her OE, which is a given) but if I can, don’t hesitate to ask.
ps. I haven’t eaten it yet – impressed ?
pps. RIP – Fishy.
The drive North was initially a bit hairy, I hadn’t slept at all on the ferry, thinking I could sleep the whole journey on the bus. Wrong. So I set off feeling green & very tired & having driven
(joned at the point by the feral one, looking sleepy & gorgeous)
2200 ks in 4 days. The last thing I felt like doing was driving.
The first 4 hours were pretty hairy & I owe you Bloo, for keeping me awake with texts of the ‘where are you now ?’ variety. Unfortunately my battery gave up the ghost at 10pm, leaving me with another 2 hours to do alone. I stopped at Tongariro & downed 2 Red Bulls. I hate the taste but man does that stuff give me a kick.
After that I listened to ZM - LOUD & hugged the tail-lights of one of the huge rigs which dominate State Highway 1 & the desert road at night time. I hitched a tow & shared his halogen. I am indebted to the driver, I think he knew why I was sticking with him & every 50ks or so he would give me a left & a right on the indicator stalks & when I replied in turn he would give me a blast on the air-horn. When our paths diverged at the sign for Hamilton he stuck his arm out & waved. I love truckers.
I was initially disappointed to be driving alongside Lake Taupo in the dark but my disappointment gave way to joy when I saw the Xmas lights in Taupo. Bloo, they were beautiful. Where else in the world would their Xmas lights feature a blue trout blowing white air bubbles ? I drove through
Taupo and saw the camp site remembering the ‘you smell nice’ night, with a silly grin plastered on my face.
I arrived at Cedar Lodge far earlier than I had aniticipated (0030) which made 500ks in 6 ½ hours which I was pretty impressed with given I was trying to conserve fuel. I suppose slipstreaming the rig for 200ks may have helped ?
The last 2 hours were thoroughly enjoyable, deserted roads, & the by-now familiar tug on my heart at seeing the place names which bring me joy. The mixture of loud music & taurine had me absolutely buzzing & as I turned into the driveway at Cedar Lodge I felt like anything other than sleep. It must be how 330VK feels all the time. However I unpacked Humpy, texted my safe arrival to concerned parties, located my night things & lay down to listen to Drops of Jupiter. I rehearsed this entry as I dozed off on clean, cool sheets.
Now – where to start on my South Island road-trip ?
Bear with me please, what I don’t want to do is replicate the journey including every place, what I thought of it & where to stay. There are books which do that better. This will be the highs, lows, thoughts & observations, along with a brief outline of where we went.
This is what we did the evening before we set off.
Mal helps out renovating these, which is why I had permission to sit on & play.
Wednesday. Day 1. Picton. Westport. Greymouth. Hokitika. Franz Josef Glacier
Distance covered = 500ks.
Fruit jellies.
Headed off from Picton in the Toyota Corolla rental car. Typical Japanese car, superbly engineered, handled like it was on rails & automatic, which I normally hate but for these kinds of distances was perfect. Shuddered when Mal produced his license to the rental girl. His driving is adequate for farm work but I resolved to keep him out of the driver’s seat at any expense.
Perfect driving weather (as long as you have a/c) saw us arriving at Franz Josef at 1900. I was thoroughly taken aback at the beauty of Franz Josef, I don’t really know what I was expecting but this wasn’t it. The town lies nestled in the valley to the lee of the glacier & after a very pleasant evening meal in town we walked the mile or so back to the motel. It was wonderful & hauntingly eerie to look out of the window from my bed & see the huge forms, looming benignly over the town. I went to sleep that night feeling enveloped & protected by the glaciers.
Thursday. Day 2. Fox Glacier. Mt.Aspiring. Lake Wanaka. Lake Hawea. Queenstown. TSS Earnslaw. Lake Wakapitu. Cromwell. Alexandra.
Distance covered = 1,000 ks.
Chocolate caramels.
The early morning torrents put paid to our plans to walk on the glacier so we headed off, aiming for Queenstown & further depending on the sailing times of the Earnslaw. Note. If you’re planning on visiting the glaciers, budget $100 for a helicopter ride over them. I was sad that I didn’t have the cash to do it. Note to self ; on a roadtrip charge your camera battery regardless
of whether you think it needs it or not. The battery died at Queenstown leaving me without a camera for the most beautiful lake I have ever seen, namely Hawea. Photos of Wanaka to follow, which was almost as good.
Queenstown was as I expected, not my cup of tea. It’s in a geographically beautiful setting but is full of adrenaline-seeking dudes & just too many people in general. The business owners are exploiting the natural beauty around them, which I suppose I can’t condemn, I just wish they weren’t so in your face about it.
We took a ride on the TSS Earnslaw (Twin Screw Steamer, in case you were wondering ?) across Lake Wakatipu. It was $37 extremely well-spent, very comfortable (I wish ferries were this heavy to punch through waves rather than bob around on them) & lovely & warm thanks to the steam funnel. At the far end of the lake was one of the most beautiful homesteads I have ever seen, in a pretty sheltered bay. Imagine a Kiwi building, cream clapper-board, red tin roof, so far so Kiwi. Then envisage the most meltingly fluid English cottage garden surrounding it. Quite lovely.
You have to envisage it, because my battery was dead.
As we disembarked, we were hindered on the gang-plank by the ubiquitous lost Japanese tourists huddled together waiting for their leader. I figured the best way not to get included in a fight was to disassociate myself from Mal as he complained loudly about them. The terms ‘slit-eye’ & ‘nips’ were the most inoffensive I can reproduce here. I don’t for one minute think it’s just him. That generation, my Gran included, refer happily to ‘Paki shops’ unaware that it’s just not acceptable. It can only get better as time moves on.
We stayed the night in Alexandra in an immaculate motel. Alexandra is memorable only for the fact that it briefly put a stick in the spokes of my love-affair with NZ. Mal returned from the shop with fish that … SMELLED OF WEE ! Wanting not to believe my sense of smell, I tasted it & unfortunately the smell was replicated in the taste. I know that reads oddly & there will be those of you wanting to know how I know what wee tastes like. I do not have a satisfactory answer.
Friday. Day 3. Roxburgh. Lawrence. Milton. Dunedin. Palmerston. Oamaru. Omarama. Twizel. Mt.Cook. Lake Pukaki. Lake Tekapo. Fairlie. Geraldine.
Distance covered = 1757ks.
Spearmint chews
My favourite day. Hated Dunedin (hard because Mal lived there) hated it for no other reason than it’s a city & if you want cities, England does them better. Unless it’s Leicester. Which is a toilet. Where was I ? Twizel was extremely pretty & the perfect aperitif for my most uplifting experience of the whole trip, Mt Cook.
Mal & I had some very different ideas about what was worth seeing. He thought I would like to see every dam on every lake. After 6 in the 1st day I had to explain that I didn’t, which was a bit hard as I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
As we approached Mt Cook and I indicated for the road to take us directly there, Mal explained that I didn’t need to drive to it, I could see it from the road. I said firmly that I definitely wanted to get close as this was my most pressing reason to re-visit the South Island.
‘O-kaay’ he compromised, with a hint of ‘You’ll be disappointed’ in his tone.
From far away I realised Mt Cook was something special. The approach road offers heart-achingly beautiful vistas across Lake Pukaki, which is the most unnatural shade of brilliant turquoise.
The closer I got, the more choked I became. I turned off the radio to try discourage Mal from talking over it. He didn’t take the hint & commenced a long & involved story about a guy shooting a rabbit. I very much wanted to ask him to be quiet. At ‘Peter’s lookout’ I left the warmth of the car to stand in the icy wind gusting across the lake. I couldn’t control the tears by this point. I had never before seen anything more beautiful.
Mal left the car to stand next to me & continue the rabbit story. I have never wanted to be alone more. I will return alone next time. Unless it’s with a climbing party, to get a better look.
I asked Mal why he seemed unmoved by something which caused such profound feelings in me. He replied that he had seen it before. Thinking that maybe the impact would reduce with subsequent viewings I asked when he had last seen it. ‘1958’ was the reply.
I suppose it either hits you or it doesn’t.
Mal is very impressed with man-made things, like the dams & the road we drove on. For me, nothing that we make can come close the beauty of the natural world. (Having re-read this bit I forgot about Black Hawks, Fireblades & tractors)
Big thoughts
Someone told me recently that when they saw awe-inspiring sights in nature it made them more prone to believing in a god. It’s the exact opposite for me. The diversity & strength of the natural world proves to me that no one being, no matter how supposedly powerful, could have had any part in producing it. I rejoice in the feeling that no matter how destructive our contact with the flora & fauna around it, it’s nature that prevails. By that I don’t mean we can afford to be reckless, just that the process of ecology is more powerful than anything we can ever hope to achieve.
In the 5 uninterrupted minutes I had with my thoughts & Mt Cook I sucked it all in, desperate not to lose the clarity it offered me. It feels kind of foolish to replicate how I felt from the peace & calm of the Tanner’s sitting room but I will be honest & say how it made me feel. I felt complete, at peace and wondered how I had been moments before seeing the mountain. My emotions at leaving Mt Cook were very mixed. A bursting happiness at wanting to share with people who would appreciate it, confused with a deep sense of loss at having to drive away.
Bereft.
That best sums it up.
You thought I had forgotten didn’t you ? No.
I thought of you too whilst there.
Saturday. Day 4. Ashburton. Christchurch. Cheviot. Kaikoura. Blenheim.
2224ks
No sweets left.
The home-ward journey & a summing up of the trip as well as a scheduled meeting with Mike who had offered to collect me from the car rental place in Picton.
Observations.
Milky’s Mum will be impressed with what I saw.
Describing the distances involved, she explained I was best advised to pick ONE place I wanted to see in the South Island, drive there & return. Pah ! That’s for gurls, South Island in 4 days is where it’s at !
The North Island is beautiful.
The South Island is so much more. Especially Mackenzie country, which left me raw with appreciation. If you want snow-capped mountains, lakes & majesty, go no further.
I took a 360 degree movie here, no buildings, no people, just sheep & mountains.
If I’m feeling technical, I might try & insert it here later.
Old people make bad & good travelling companions.
Bad because they function on very little sleep & have to be told forcibly that
‘I do not want to be awoken before 0800 when I am on holiday’
Bad because they give vague driving directions like ‘that left there’
As you drive past it.
Bad because they throw sweetie-wrappers from the car window, the 1st couple of times before you know what they are about to do. You must then explain that plastic does NOT biodegrade & to keep tourists wanting to come to NZ it must be clean.
Bad because they don’t understand e-mail privacy & want to read your e-mails at the internet café, asking ‘Who’s that then ?’ as you read a message.
Bad because they are stubborn & refuse to believe that you have to deposit money in the meter nearest to where you parked the car. They then feign surprise & anger at the parking ticket you find stuck to your rental car, because they paid to park in a bay 100 metres away. They then hand YOU the ticket, saying that YOU should contest it & you know it’s just not worth explaining.
Bad because when you recommend ostrich steaks, medium-rare, they insist on it being ‘well-done’ then complain that ‘it’s tough’. They say the raspberry jus is ‘nice gravy’ though :)
Good because they are always awake before you & therefore your morning tea always awaits.
Good because they know & have been actively involved in the history of the place you are driving ignorantly through.
Good because everywhere you go, they engage people in conversation, showing uptight, repressed people (me) how it should be done.
Good because they are interested in what you have to say.
This does not go for all old people, my own grandma proves this.
After 2 very painful, enlightening visits I now no longer visit her.
Nobody needs to hear the type of stuff she wants to tell me & I refuse to listen any more.
Mal wanted to know about mobile phones, texting, my job, my dog, my family and my interests. Quite often he spoke over my answers but as people usually fall asleep during my responses I take that as an encouraging step in the right direction.
Good because they appreciate time. I have been left in no doubt how much Mal enjoyed his epic road-trip & when he said thank-you I immediately forgot all the times he had irked me by chattering whilst I tried to drink in my surroundings.
My favourite faux-pas ?
Mal would have made the ideal companion for a blind driver & liked to read out all the road signs to me. Within seconds of passing a place name he would intone importantly ‘This … Is a town … called ‘Murchison’, which I knew because I had read the sign too. I turned it into a game in my head by counting the seconds beyond the sign & guessing at what point he would announce the name. I never made it past 6. We had been passing bays on the coast all day, at each one he would read the name aloud. On our way up a very steep mountain pass which indicated frost in the winter he read aloud ‘Chain fitting bay – that’s an odd name for a bay isn’t it ?’
I didn’t have the heart to explain.
Brooke Fraser’s CD ‘What to do with the daylight’ can be listened to on a 4 day loop by an 80 year old & a 35 year old. I liked it because it complimented what I was seeing. He liked it because her Dad’s an All-Black. Apparently.
I don’t share my space easily.
After 4 days of being with the same person I was very glad to be alone again. I found it quite suffocating. I’m aware that doesn’t make me sound like a nice person, but there you are, it’s true. I need some time alone every day. I can spend days alone. ‘Castaway’ would have been my idea of a holiday. I wouldn’t have wanted to live with the rest of the community though. Just me, Barley, books & Radio 4. And perhaps a notter.
I have always been afraid of dying.
I don’t mean the pain or the disease. I mean the nothingness afterwards. For ever. That’s what scared me. Depending on how I was feeling I could churn myself up into a bit of a state about the ‘forever’ aspect of it. The word would echo around & around my consciousness & with no religious beliefs to cushion me it seemed pretty scary. Especially at 0200 when it’s just you & the black pit in your stomach.
It’s changed now.
I was reading about someone dying & was trying to imagine how she felt. I did the usual thing where I say to myself ‘Imagine forever’ & didn’t get the normal response. I tested myself a couple more times – nothing. Just calm. I even tried the 0200 test whilst awake in Murray’s van, having been awoken by something (a possum ?) scrabbling underneath it. I conjured up the scariest voice my mind could & intoned ‘forever’ in my head over & over. It’s just not the same. I feel calm about what happens now. I have an explanation, it just seems a bit too Hollywood but I’ll tell you anyway. No laughing. During this last trip I have experienced a growing feeling that ‘things will be’. Mount Cook was the focus. As I looked at her I just felt very privileged. It’s almost as if (& I shudder to write something so trite) when you get to a certain point you’ve seen enough. It’s not luck. You have set out to do something, see something, experience something & when you’ve seen it, you’re replete. I texted someone after Mt Cook & told them I was ready to go. They jokingly replied ‘Not yet’ but what I meant was, whenever the time comes I’m ready.
I can’t explain any more clearly than that & I think I need a break from typing now.
Cx
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