Apparently, there is a species of snail from New Zealand that’s been in North America for a long time but has just appeared in the Great Lakes. The New Zealand Mud Snail.
Another great souvenir from New Zealand. This is a bad thing, by the way.
(I still have a few planned posts to get up, so I am still going here, albeit slower.)
I finished off my Mount Cook day with a two-plus hour drive to Wanaka – the next Queenstown; seriously, invest in property there. It got really foggy at the end of the trip. It was so hard to see anything at all there!
It was a holiday Monday so the prices at all the restaurants were up a few dollars (to pay the overtime wages, most restaurants add a surcharge of a couple of dollars or a fixed percentage to the bill). I had a very expensive hamburger dinner as a result. It was fantastic. None of the area hostelfolk were interested in attending due to the cost of restaurants that day. This is one of the charms of having a real job.
The next day, I did the skydive. I think everyone knows about the skydive by now: 15,000 feet over Wanaka, with ALL of the important landforms of the South Island visible all around. EVERYONE has told me that I was really brave for doing it, but I still don’t see why it was such a big deal. The operation is staffed by consummate pros, my tandem guide has been jumping for 16 years and it was his third jump that day, the weather was good…I got over my jitters with math. Mathletics. That said, I’m in no hurry to do another jump anytime soon.
After the jump it was off to the great South Island adventure tourism destination: Queenstown. I think about one quarter of their downtown is built up with backpackers’ or hotels. It’s on a giant lake surrounded by giant mountains. It is in a valley of sorts, ringed by ski resort mountains buffered from the community by vineyard upon vineyard. I was feeling pretty stiff from the half marathon a few days earlier and my ankle was still throbbing a little bit from the descent incident at the Tarns (I was bounding down too fast), so I did an hour at a spa on a backpacker’s deal ($20). I had a bachelor’s dinner of a tin of pasta and one litre of orange juice, and spent the evening at the bar by myself, pouring over my maps and being ignored by the fleets of teenagers dumped there by the tour buses. It made for some great writing ideas, at least.
I did a wine tour the following morning. Awesome. I think I’m a wine snob now because I can pick out a “Central Otago aromatic” from the shelves at the LCBO (I found only one in Ottawa) and know why they always describe wines as tasting or smelling like pears or peaches and such (that’s just how they choose to define the taste of a wine…with a little more detail than “dry” or “sweet” or “spicy”). I goofed around with an army guy from Honolulu most of the time; I wouldn’t mind living in Honolulu, I think. I also ate lunch at the one winery with a family on vacation from Minnesota who were celebrating their daughter’s graduation from med school. WONDERFUL.
The drive through the area was fantastic. Just some unbelievable topography down there in New Zealand. Queenstown and environs were just gorgeous. No wonder so many Aucklanders are moving down there. I could have stayed. myself.
Filed under: Actual Travelling | Tags: Aoraki, Awesome hikes uphill, Mount Cook, Sealy Tarns
My next stop was Aoraki Mount Cook National Park. Aoraki/Mount Cook is the tallest point in New Zealand. It was where Sir Edmund Hillary did his Everest practice. My goal for the day was to hike about 300 metres uphill to a small, little ledge housing the Sealy Tarns. Tarns are small, mountain lakes usually fed by glacial or snow melt. I learned that lesson the hard way.
To exorcise this demon, I changed into my running gear and started hopping over brambles (ignoring the groomed trail 200 metres to my left) and rock falls to make it to the trail. It was up, up and up. It took a little over two hours to make it to the tarns, where I spent a half hour giggling like an oxygen deprived schoolgirl.
It was a lovely accomplishment after getting destroyed in the half marathon the day before. I only rolled my ankle once during the climb (and it was the good ankle not involved in the half marathon debacle). It was a wonderful day. I called home after I had finished the climb.
Afterwards, I went to the resort hotel and bought an expensive fruit juice. It was most satisfying.
After Hamner, I returned to Christchurch for a night of sleep. The next step was a half marathon in Christchurch. It didn’t go well. I cramped up (or pulled a muscle, or something stupid like that) at 13k and hobbled most of the rest of the way. That’s the last I will ever say of the Christchurch Marathon (the course was okay, a couple of the volunteers were jerks, and there was a group of Canadians running and I high fived them).
I then drove onward to Lake Tekapo for the night. I stopped at a salmon farm along the way. For $3, you got a little pail of food and could feed the fish. They would frenzy around the food. It was amongst the best $3 I have ever spent.
At Lake Tekapo, there was an outdoor skating rink and some hot pools (I don’t think they were geothermally powered). I invited the hostelfolk out for a skate; nobody accepted the offer. It started raining after while and the soft ice became more like slush. I was one of the better skaters out there.
Admittedly, this is a very boring post.
The second stop was a two day, one night adventure in Hamner. Hamner is a ski town of sorts, in that Christchurchers escape there for the weekend but it’s a little bit away from the nearest ski hills. There are hot pools there (which I did get to partake in with a rented bathing suit…eeep) and I had a wonderful little pizza from some no name place on the main street.
I went with the same friend from the train trip, who coordinated the arrival of all of her Christchurch friends for the night. We ate nachos and drank fine cabernet sauvignons (wine) all night long. It was pretty good.
Filed under: Actual Travelling | Tags: Arthur's Pass, Christchurch, Greymouth, Tranzalpine
I’m finally going to get caught up with my South Island trip here on the blog. I was gone from May 29 to June 7, and I basically did a big circle from Christchurch through Wanaka, Queenstown, Te Anau, Invercargill and Dunedin before heading to Christchurch Airport.
My first South Island adventure, however, was a daytrip on a train through the mountains from Christchurch to Greymouth through Arthur’s Pass.
A friend and I grabbed some newspapers and rolled through one of New Zealand’s more historic rail corridors. The area we travelled through was made famous by its coal deposits. The elevation changes used to require changing engines twice to pass through the tunnel and has left a legacy of ghost train towns in its wake. Diesel engines are capable of doing what people can’t. Arthur’s Pass was one of two passes a family of surveyors was investigating for a train route through the Southern Alps. This route was chosen as “the best of a bad lot.” And the son who was surveying this particular option? His name was Arthur. Lunch in Greymouth consisted of pasta and seafood at a Speight’s Ale House. It was wonderful.
In particular, What Not To Wear. But the American version…