Milford Sound and a Snowy Trek

As Sunday evening falls upon us here in Hamilton, I must say that this was my favorite weekend here thus far. Although not having classes for four days can get a little boring around here, by Saturday you can find things to do and people to do them with. Especially in the warmer months. It was a warm and sunny weekend here, so we decided to finally check out the famous Hamilton Gardens. It also happened to be Spanish Heritage Day at the gardens, so that gave us a good excuse to go. Ive never been to such beautiful gardens. I think as the weather gets warmer I might go back just to relax and enjoy the beauty. Because of the cultural celebration there were also a lot of ethnic food vendors, which was great. Saturday night we went to a house party before heading out to the bars for the evening. It was definitely one of the more fun nights that I have had here. And today we went to the local pub to watch the local minor league Rugby team play. All in all it was a really fun weekend. I hope the weekends following will be similar.

Back to spring break....

When I last left off, we were about to head to Milford Sound. In order to get to Milford, you have to go through a series of mountains. Its a long windy road out to the sound, but the views are nothing short of spectacular. You come on to the famous Milford Road with the mountains staring you in the face. The buses that take you out to the Sound are specially equipped with glass roofs, because everything you want to see is staring down at you. We witnessed waterfalls and avalanches, snowfall and rainfall. Its a place unlike anywhere that you have ever been before. To get to the sound itself, you must go through a long tunnel underneath one of the mountains. Its one lane, and if you don't ride right in the middle, you risk clipping your car or bus on the roof. Its a place bustling with wildlife. The call of the world's only mountain parrot, the Kea, cut through the serene silence. And the water is so clear and fresh, that it is good luck to drink it straight from the river. But through it all, the sound remains the crown jewel.

Milford Sound is probably New Zealand's biggest tourist attraction. Cruises are constantly leaving the port and heading out into the sound. Walker and I had our reservations. We weren't as thrilled about the tourist attractions and found that the little side trips and activities could generally be much better. But for all of the hype, this place lives up to it. You are constantly surrounded by penguins, seals and dolphins. Look up and waterfalls are cascading off of the giant cliffs around you. Moss and rainbows are everywhere. If there was ever a place that has been so obviously touched by the hand of God, it was here. As I mentioned a few posts ago, we had spectacular weather when it mattered most, and our trip to Milford was no exception.

After we finished soaking that all it, we headed back to Te Anau. Te Anau lays half way between Queenstown and Milford. There is not much to do in the town itself, but it is surrounded by three of New Zealand's "Great Walks." The Milford, Kepler and Routeburn tracks all either start or end in Te Anau. When Walker spent the night at Abel Tasman he met some other college students that had recently done the Kepler Track and spoke very highly of it. I could tell that after he heard about it, there was nothing that he wanted to do more. I had my doubts. I had read a book about all of the Great Walks and Kepler never really stuck out to me. But in the end, I figured they all must be spectacular and it would be worth doing. Besides, there is nothing cheap to keep me busy in Queenstown, and I could probably use the exercise after all the partying anyways. So we hopped off the bus in Te Anau, found a hostel to stay in, and planned to head up Mt. Luxmore-the first leg of the Kepler track-the next day.

There was just one problem. Snow, and quite a bit of it, was predicted for the top of the mountain and we were not sure if the DOC would let us head out. We figured we would go there first the next morning and make sure it was still feasible.

When we checked in the next morning, they had no problem letting us head up. The reports had gotten a little less intense over the night so it looked as if we were in the clear. We headed to pick up some rental gear, but that took a little longer than expected. For a 14k uphill trek, time was now working against us. We were about to call it quits, but remembered that there was a water taxi service that could cut us across the lake and cut 6k (all of the flat stuff) off of our walk and drop us at the bottom of the mountain. We ended utilizing the service, and began our hike just after lunch.

The 8.4k we had left to do was not easy. It was literally all uphill. At no point did it level out. Switchback after switchback, we slowly worked our way up the mountain. The forest was cool, but nothing to really marvel at. When we finally got to the top of the treeline, it started to sleet. This made the forest look truly enchanted, and it was an awesome site to see. When we exited the treeline, however, we were in for a rude awakening. It had started to snow, and the weather was only picking up. We were soon caught in a tunnel of howling wind and a decent amount of snow. As a Boston kid, a little snow never bothers me. But this was different. At the bottom, it was a mild late winter day. Now we were dealing with freezing temperatures and frozen faces. But we pressed on, despite not being able to see to our left and right. About an hour later we made it to the hut. Luckily a pleasant German fellow had already started a fire and we were able to warm up pretty quickly. When the snow finally stopped, it was quite a site. A true winter wonderland surrounded us.

Our night at the hut was pretty uneventful. We played cards and made some hotdogs, and then woke up the next morning to no fire and bitter cold. We booked our way back down the mountain (14k this time) and made it back to town by lunch. We just relaxed for the rest of the day until our bus came that evening.

We headed back to Queenstown for one more night of mayhem. The next morning, we would be off for the final leg of our journey.


Have a wonderful week!

Wilson

Next time: Lake Tekapo, Christchurch, and the All Blacks game!

BUNGY BUNGY

Well I have been in Hamilton for almost two weeks since I have returned from break, and it really has not been as bad as I imagined. I finally feel like our group has made enough connections to be able to enjoy this place, and it is truly a blessing to come back to my own room and not have a care in the world. It makes the traveling that much better! In all of my downtime back here at school, I have been able to catch up with some friends back in the states and across the world. It's amazing that so many of my friends from Furman and people that I grew up with in Sudbury are scattered across the world, having equally amazing experiences. What makes it even better is knowing that they are having different experiences from me. Whether its hanging on the beaches of Australia, exploring old world Europe, taking safaris in Africa, or going to the Spanish clubs every night, all of their experiences bring something new to the table. I wish I could experience it all-and hopefully I do someday-but I value the experience that I have been able to have here in New Zealand and would not change it for anything. One thing that New Zealand has taught me is that I have time. If I want to get to these places that my friends are seeing, then damn it I will.

But back to spring break....

When I last left off, we were about to head into Queenstown. Now Queenstown has an amount of hype unlike any other place in the world that I have been to. When I told people that I would be living in New Zealand, they told me that I better make it to Queenstown. And the Kiwis understand too. They know that its a tourist hot spot, even though most have never even been there. All of this hype left me with serious doubt that it could live up to the hype. I imagined it to be a ritzy ski town, similar to Aspen and in many ways it was. But lets rewind for a second.

On the way from Wanaka to Queenstown is a place called the Kawarau Bridge. It was here that the original bungy jump took place when a wild man named A.J. Hackett was able to secure the bridge from the Maori people. It looks down over a river 42 meters below. Today the bridge still serves as one of the worlds most popular bungy spots. Now, I was not going to bungy. That type of thrill did not get me going. If anything, I wanted to skydive. But our whole bus ride, the driver kept hyping up the damn bungy to the point where I couldn't say no anymore. I convinced myself that you cannot go to Queenstown-known as the adventure capital of the world-and not bungy. In my last post I talked about a British fellow from my bus named Richard. He had told us that if we were thinking about doing something, we had to do it. If we didn't, we would be living with the regret of not doing it. This was probably the greatest piece of wisdom that I have received in New Zealand. If I had not done the bungy, I would have kept thinking about whether I should have done it or not.

At first, I thought I wanted to do the Nevis, which is over three times the length. But when Walker told me that he was just going to do the bridge, I agreed that the Nevis might be a little over the top. So we settled for the bridge. I don't think I took my headphones off for the two days before the bungy. Quite honestly, I was scared. More than scared, I was mortified. I was about to jump off of a bridge and rely on a cord to yank me back up? No thanks. But this was a new Wilson. So I pretended I was getting ready for a rugby game, trying to pump myself up with music. I knew it was all mental. As soon as my feet left that platform there was nothing I could do anyways. So all I had to do was jump off. Piece of cake. As I walked up to that bridge, I was ready. There was no turning back now. As I entered the cage to get harnessed up, all I could think about was the music that was playing in my headphones minutes before. I was amped. Now my feet were strapped together, so when I got up I had to hop my way up to the platform. I didn't look down, smiled for the pre-jump photo and waited for my go. I didn't even realize it but I was holding onto the wall of the platform. The jump master was telling me to let go, but I wasn't even paying attention. I was in the zone. I finally heard him and let go. It was time for my fate, my destiny. It was time to bungy. The countdown began.

5....What the hell am I doing, I thought to myself.

4....You are making a huge mistake.

3....You won't jump off that platform.

2....Too late now!

1....And away we go!

My feet left the platform and I was off. Now my form was less than perfect. I was no Olympic diver, heck I couldn't even dive during swim lessons back in the day. With my feet tied together all I could muster was a bunny-hop-over-the-edge-pencil-dive. My heart was racing, I was flying through the air. I started to have chest pains-to this day I believe that I had a minor heart attack. My body just did not know what to expect, and it definitely was not expecting this. I was hurtling towards the river when *SNAP* I flipped over and was dangling by my feet. This is where my form came to hurt me. I had to flip over eventually. I had a little whiplash as I was bouncing up and down, but I was loving it. What a rush! As I was lowered down into a boat below, I was completely out of it. It was a high the likes of which I had never experienced before. The guys in the boat told me to flip the bird to the camera, which I promptly did. I was not in the most flattering position, but I didn't care. You couldn't wipe that smile off of my face. As I walked up the hill I had to stop and catch my breath. It was euphoria. It was one of the coolest things I had ever done. I couldn't speak. When I got to the top, everybody asked how it was. "Sweet!" Was all I could muster through my wide grin.

It was one of the coolest things I had ever done, and yet I would never do it again. It is one of those thrills that I don't need to pay 180 bucks (I got a great deal that day though) for more than once. But you have to do it once. Now don't expect this crazy Wilson to come running back to the US. Have you ever seen the episode of Seinfeld where "Relationship George" is worried about his "world colliding" with "Independent George?" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uPG3YMcSvzo) This is what would happen if I brought "Adventurous Wilson" back to "Normal Wilson" world. It will always be there, but I don't need my worlds colliding on a regular basis.

After we finished there, we headed into Queenstown. It was, as I expected, your average, quaint little ski town, set on the shores of a beautiful lake overlooking "The Remarkables" mountain range. Something about mountain ranges always gets me. They are always perfectly named. The Remarkables are by no means the exception to the rule. They are quite remarkable. But do not let the "quaint" nature of this little ski town fool you because when the sun goes down, this town heats up. For such a small town it carries a big reputation and one of the things it is known for is its party scene. The town has 46 bars, which in itself is quite remarkable. But beyond that, there are bars in every hole in every wall, and every bar is unique. From ice bars, to hot bars, Irish pubs to British taverns, this town has it all. It made for three quite entertaining nights out. On Friday night, the night that we arrived, we went out for a bar crawl with the rest of our bus group. It was the last time we would all be together, as we were all leaving Queenstown at different times. It was a lot of fun.

The next day we headed up to the top of the mountain overlooking Queenstown for a nice leisurely hike and some great views of the town and lake. The hike was less of a leisurely stroll and more of a treacherous climb, but we made it to the top. The views were stunning. Right below us sat Queenstown. Behind Queenstown was the lake. Behind the lake were The Remarkables. It was the view with everything. Also at the top was a luge track, which a bunch of us partook in. Imagine real life Mario Kart and you have luge. We got a drink and snack at the scenic overlook bar before sneaking onto the gondola to ride back down. That night, Walker and I decided to lay low. The night before had clearly gotten the best of us. We also wanted to plan our next moves. Monday we would be heading to Milford Sounds for the day, and Walker had decided that he wanted to stay off in Te Anau after our trip to the Sound and hike part of the famous Kepler track. It would be 14k up and 14k back, mostly uphill. I had not yet decided if I wanted to go, but I had all day Sunday to consider my options. Sunday was a rainy day, so we just went to the movies and prepared. I was going to go with Walker. We had come too far for me to ditch him now. Besides, I was still in "Adventurous Wilson" mode.

So we woke up early Monday morning to catch our bus, and we were on our way for the four hour drive out to the world famous Milford Sound.

To be continued....

Up next: Milford, Kepler, and back to Queenstown!

The Wild West Coast

Well, I made it back to Hamilton in one piece. Barely. My feet were cut up and ached, I felt like I hadn't slept properly in three weeks, and I'm starting to wonder if I should throw some of my clothes away (okay slight exaggeration). But that's what living out of a backpack (or two in my case) for almost three weeks does to you. Needless to say that I will really have to prepare myself (and probably get a new pack) if I want to backpack around the world some day. I have come back sick of sharing rooms with Walker and six others, sick of packing and repacking my clothes every morning, and ready to sleep in my own crumby bed. Hey, at least its mine.

I'm sure at this point you're thinking the trip stunk. Quite the contrary. It was one of the greatest experiences of my life. But more reflection later. Let's return to the summary of my travels.

When I last left you, I had just found Walker in Abel Tasman and was ready to hop on the Magic Bus. The Magic Bus was everything I expected. A cheap bus with a driver who is instructed to talk about every pebble on the side of the road. Such is life on a tour bus. But was I complaining? Nope. They were getting me around the South Island "cheap as" so I was as happy as a pig in the mud on a hot summers day.

Our first stop on the Magic Bus was Greymouth, a sleepy old gold town. We got there pretty late and headed off for a local brewery tour soon after. The tour was followed by a bus mixer, which was pretty fun I must say. Cheap drinks in a town with nothing else to do is always a good time. We headed out early the next morning for glacier country.

One thing that is great about the Magic Bus is the stops that they make along the way. They bring you to a lot of places that are hard to get to or that you may not have even thought to go to. Some are good just to get a cup of coffee or stretch your legs. Yet others are some of the most beautiful places that you have ever seen. Which brings me to a good point...

Why is this post titled "The Wild West Coast"? To be honest, I have no clue. That's what its known as here in New Zealand. Why is it so wild? Well again I know why they call it that, but I had the great fortune of not experiencing it at all. They call it the Wild West Coast because it has some of the most unpredictable weather in the country. My friends that followed me on later buses can vouch for this. But our bus? Nothing but sunshine baby, and I could not have been more thrilled. Even our bus driver said that there was a one in a million shot that we would have clear skies from Nelson to Queenstown in the Winter. But we did. We saw views thought to be unseeable on the west coast. Some of the most picturesque views of the Southern Alps that you can possibly have the fortune of finding. And we saw 'em. I don't know what I did to deserve that weather, but I must have done something right.

But back to the travels. We made a pit stop along the way at a place called Pancake Rocks. Now, I had seen some of these in Raglan, and was less than enthusiastic about wasting my time seeing them again. I'm kicking myself for that attitude these days. These rocks were so much more amazing than the ones in Raglan. The whole area was covered in the things. There is just something so serene about watching the water hit the rocks. Amazing.

After that we headed on to Franz Josef, in the heart of glacier country. Now, there isn't much to do in Franz Josef except hike glaciers. A lot of people skydive in the area too-it is considered by many to be the second coolest place to do it in the world behind some hill called Everest in Nepal. We knew that we had to do a glacier walk. Now there are two choices in glacier country, Fox and Franz. Franz is the more well known glacier, but moved so much (this tends to happen with glaciers) that a big hole formed in the middle of it. All of this to say, you have to heli-hike it these days and we were more interested in hiking right onto the glacier, so we went to Fox (it was also cheaper not to have to use a helicopter). Here is what makes the glaciers so unique and such an attraction. These two glaciers are two of three glaciers in the world, that end in a deciduous climate. Hence, why you can hike on them without freezing your butt off. The hike itself was awesome. We strapped our crampons on and went right up onto the face of the glacier. Ice has a tendency to do some pretty crazy and spectacular things. We climbed through holes, looked down into caves and drank the water. It was all a very unique experience that words really cannot do justice. Look forward to the pictures coming up in the photo blog!

We got a little bored that night, and ended up just kicking it in the hostel-Chateau Franz-and playing some board games. It was here that I got to know two guys that I think are really worth mentioning here. The first was an Englishman named Richard, who went to Australia on a work visa and never went back. Well, he was finally heading home and was stopping in New Zealand along the way. He isn't that significant of a character just yet, but remember the name. The second was a Frenchman by the name of Guilliume (that's a rough spelling guess). He stuck with me all the way to Christchurch, and we really hit it off. Easily the nicest Frenchman that I have ever met, and listening to him pronounce words was always great for a good laugh. The funniest was when he tried to explain "tea-bagging" to me, but that's a story for another time.

Before we headed out of Fox, we stopped at the famous Lake Matheson, or mirror lake. I've never seen anything like it. Maybe it was us getting lucky with the sunshine again, but the Alps reflected perfectly on the lake. It made for some very cool pictures (again, coming soon).

We then headed on to the ski town of Wanaka. Not much to do there but ski, but the mountains are set right behind the lakes, and it made for an awesome sunset.


Well, as you may be able to tell I am getting a bit sleepy and I am sure you are also tired of hearing about my adventures for the night. Have a great end to the week!


Coming Soon: BUNGY, Queenstown, and Central Otago!

Wine Country and a Great Walk

No I'm not back in Hamilton yet. As I write this post, I'm sitting at a hostel (there you go Grandpa) in Christchurch. Tomorrow I will fly to Wellington to watch the All Blacks play Argentina, and Sunday night I will begin my trek back to Hamilton. So we're almost home. And it has been one hell of a wild ride. But first lets rewind a bit....

Two Wednesday's ago, I took my Maori test and hopped on a bus to the Auckland airport to fly down to Wellington. I stayed at Walker's place for the night, and caught the ferry the next day to head across the Cook Strait. It was something I wanted to do, as I had heard that the views are pretty amazing. The weather was perfect, and I crossed over to the south island as the sun set. It was a pretty spectacular ride.

On Friday, I had scheduled to take a wine tour through the world famous Marlborough wine region. I got to hit some of the most famous vineyards (Villa Maria, St. Clair to name a couple), and learned a lot. Although famous for their Sauv Blancs, I found myself enjoying the great Rieslings of the region a lot more. It was a great day, but by the 6th or 7th (of 10) vineyard of the day I was (in all honesty) pretty drunk and could not really do the wines justice anymore. It was a lot of fun though. I had set aside an extra day to hit any vineyards that I missed, but didn't end up needing it.

On Sunday I was off to Nelson, the sunniest area of New Zealand. Thats not saying much. It still rained the whole time that I was there. On Monday I headed to the Abel Tasman National Park to hike for the day and meet up with Walker. Abel Tasman is what is known as a "Great Walk," and a great walk it was. Although the day began looking pretty gloomy and dreary, the weather had really turned by the end of the day. We had a lot of fun hiking through the bush and spending a lot of time on the beach.

Then it was time to hop on the Magic Bus.

To be continued....

PS-I will post a lot of pictures in a separate post at the end, as well as on Facebook. They'll probably be up by the end of the weekend.