From Sea to Shining Sea

Nov. 29

That’s it! I’ve had it with driving over mountains. I went from sea to sea today and there was nothing but mountain range after mountain range in my way. I really did not want to leave the wild, rocky, beautiful western Tasman Sea coastline. As I drove south with the huge waves rolling in along the roadside I just felt a tugging on my heart to stay there. But I committed to a B&B on the other side of NZ with a view of the other ocean and I already lost a day. I thought yesterday was Saturday. I really messed up. I couldn’t get internet or info on mass, (I was in the middle of nowhere) but figured I could get it the next day, Sunday. Then I’m watching TV last night and they keep telling me I’m watching the Sunday Night Movie. Finally, it sinks in and I go to my computer and check and it really is Sunday! I have no idea how I did that. I even changed my ferry ticket for the wrong day. I am really mixed up.

But I made it to the other sea. I am writing this from a window overlooking the snowcapped mountains towering over Kaikoura and the South Pacific Ocean below them. Kaikoura means crayfish food and that is one of the delicacies here- very large crayfish. It is also a world famous feeding ground for the giant Sperm Whale. So if I get over mountain driving exhaustion, I may go on a whale watching cruise. This is a spectacular peninsula that enjoys sunshine and activities from the sea to the top of the mountain. So, I’m not sure what I’m up for. The drive in was spectacular along the coast; another breathtaking drive at breakneck speeds along rocks reaching into the ocean and long, arching waves crashing on shores as I tried to drive and not look.  And there was suddenly a rock tunnel in front of my car, a tunnel maybe a foot wider than my car, and I had no idea if this was another one of those one lane jobbers you take turns with I’ve had every half hour for the last six days, or if I should just go through while I’m doing 80kph. So I go through.  And all I see from the dim light on the other side is a big arrow pointing straight left. So I go zooming through and screeching left and on down the road at 80. I can do the Grand Prix now! Don’t’ these people ever just take a leisurely drive on a straight road? I’m dying here.

Anyway, my drive here was over a mountain range, drive a bit through a valley, get to the next range, go over that one, drive a bit through a valley, get to the next range, go over…………………. I mean, the views were stunning, more saffron studded mountains, more snowcapped mountains, more gorgeous flowering trees and bushes. But I’m bushed. My steering wheel has permanent indentations from my clenched fingers. My shoulders are permanently scrunched and my right leg is twitching from overuse. It’s like The Great Race. Let’s see how fast we can take the curve with no guardrails. No fear with these Kiwis, it’s another form of population control. Even the school busses take these little mountain roads at ridiculous speeds. Of course, Mrs. Tomtom reprogrammed to shortest not fastest route today, so I got some real back roads over the mountains. And they are re-gritting, as they say, all the roads. That’s recoating the asphalt. That’s fun too at 100kph on the curves in the mountains; a little oil, a little loose stone --doesn’t seem to slow down the locals. And as I look around I realize there is no way out of this peninsula except over the mountains. Oh, to have a back-up driver.

I did get to stop along the way at Hamner Springs Thermal Resort. My back has been so bad and the detour off my course looked pretty short so I went for a look. This spot has been touted in a lot of the tour books and after having stopped I’m really glad I didn’t plan a stay or drive out of my way to get here.  It is a small town and resorts built around some hot springs Europeans discovered had recuperative powers in the 1800’s. I paid my entry fee and rented a towel and stayed about an hour and a half. I used all the mineral pools. They ranged in temperature from 35 degrees Celsius to 41. So I really have no idea how hot they were except, on a warm sunny day, I stayed in the shade and the hot pool was really hot. It was also a sulfur pool so it was stinky. But I believe my “taking to the waters” has helped in some way. And I’m certainly glad I had the experience.

Now I am going to sit back, have a beer, enjoy the view, and expunge that drive from my memory banks.

Kiwi Sea

Nov. 28

Found my phone! It had slid next to the passenger seat.Phew! 

I had a nice breakfast overlooking a somewhat gray and brooding ocean. A slight mist is in the air with an overcast sky, but nothing to keep me indoors. I drive to the nearby visitor center and pick up a map of trails nearby and decide to do a short beach trail as the lady said she thought it was the best around. I liked ‘short’ and figured maybe ‘easy’ would be true. Well this time ‘easy’ was pretty true and it only took about 15 minutes of walking through beautiful rainforest to get to the cliffs above the ocean.  Sensational views of all kinds of rock formations and a lovely beach to climb down to. And I did go down to the beach. The sand was really a very fine pebble sand, not quite sugary, but definitely sand. This entire coast is considered too dangerous to swim, so you go to the beach to look, not touch here. I spent a good amount of time down on the beach just enjoying the pounding of the surf and found a beautiful shell and one perfectly smooth rock to bring home. I then climbed back up to the headland and sat on a bench for awhile watching birds and rolling waves and crashing spray.  I could also see the clouds pass right beside me and go over to the mainland behind the trail. I finally decided to leave as I was beginning to become so mesmerized by the waves I felt it was time for a nap. I stopped at the little café open during the day and bought some vegetable quiche and a cookie. I ate that looking out over the ocean form my dining room then took a nice nap.

After nap time and writing a bit, it was time for high tide which was my appointment out at Pancake Rocks and Blowholes. This coastline is famous for the incredible rock formations all up and down the coast, but in this particular area the rocks sedimented over time in such a way as to look like stacks of pancakes everywhere. There are also lots of caverns, caves and canyons the water rushes into at high tide which forces the back flowing water into upper holes and fissure in the rocks where it literally blows out like a whale or small geysers. High tide is when it is most active, so I have saved my visit here for now.

As I walk the path toward the rocks I realize I really am on an ‘easy’ path – it’s paved. That’s how popular this site is. I walk through a jungle of palm trees, ferns and jute plants for about 8 minutes. I then hear the sound of what I think is an airplane or jet going over, but see nothing in the sky. I realize I am close to the rocks and I must be hearing the surf. I emerge into the open and see the first formations of rocks. They really are pancaked on top of each other and they are all over the place and climb hundreds of feet above the waterline. Directly in front of me is a huge, box shape cavern that the water is flowing in and out of with the tide. As it is high tide the flow keeps backing up on itself and crashing into the walls with the huge booms I thought were airplanes. Next to a bridge over part of this cavern is a blowhole and every time a really big wave comes in water shoots out of this hole like a geyser. Sometimes it looks just like steam, and other times it looks like water gushing up. Several different areas have blowholes, but this spot is the most sensational and often catches people by surprise. You actually have to cover your camera lens the mist and spray carries so high. My lips were salty from being there a half hour. The walkway takes me around a very large area where all these rock and pancake formations can be viewed just rising out of the ocean in all sorts of whimsical shapes. The shapes help to make the caverns and blowholes. I am amused watching all the other sightseers. I realize many people just come to an attraction to take a photo, to say “look where I’ve been”, and then move on to the next item on their list. As I spent time this morning at the beach, I also spent quite a bit of time watching the waves in the cavern and the little caves they rushed into, and how high the spray would go. It was fascinating; every wave different, every crash a different height. I easily could have spent an hour or two there. But the people next to me changed spots every minute or two, never longer than that. Even the camera nuts with tripods, when they thought they had the perfect photo, off they ran. One guy never even took off his ear buds, he just listened to his iPod. Half the fun is listening to the crashing surf. It seems we no longer know how to enjoy the moment, see what is happening right in front of us instead of using a gizmo to record it and show it sometime in the future as something we did in the past. Again, a gizmo getting in the way of actually seeing what is in front of us, be-ing in the present. I have often had to stop myself from taking a photo so I could just enjoy the moment. Well, today I enjoyed the moments. The sea has a way of reminding us we are not in charge. Something bigger, stronger and older is at work in nature. But we need to be quiet to hear His voice.

Up, Up and Away!

Nov 27

The alarm jolts me awake at 5:30 and I stumble to the window. The night at the Bate Motel was fitful; thin walls, car lights coming in the windows, scratchy sheet – I’ve become spoiled. The outside world is cloaked in fog and clouds. Yes! No point in walking to the lake as there would be no sunrise reflection. But that also means the helicopters may not go up. So I go back to bed for a couple hours as there is nothing that can be done yet. When I finally arise and get ready to check out it is still overcast and I am not hearing any helicopters flying. There are about 4 companies that operate right here and yesterday I could hear them constantly coming and going. This is not a good sign. I am pretty resigned to leaving town with no helicopter ride. I drive out to the lake to see if it is any better, but it is also socked in, although sun is obvious above the lower clouds. I turn back towards town and it is as if a miracle has occurred and Moses has parted the clouds. Sun is streaming over Fox Glacier and the clouds have moved toward the sea. I drive to the helicopter office and walk in and ask if we’re good to go and he says “yep!”

The advantage of being the loner here is that with two couples being the other passengers, I am the obvious choice for the front seat. Shotgun! I have the coveted front seat with a view below my feet and on both sides. It is wonderful. Once again I can’t believe how easy it is to take off and how quickly we are flying up toward the mountains. From this perspective we get an appreciation of the size of these glaciers. Fox is 14 kilometers long and Franz Josef is 10 kilometers long. No wonder the people in front of the glacier looked so tiny yesterday -- it is massive!  And since I can’t see the rotors I don’t think we are going to die every few minutes, though I was going to tell him he was getting a little too close to the mountainside, especially over the rocky peak.  Over that peak we arrive at Franz Josef and the pilot finds a landing spot and we all get out. What a riot! It’s warm and sunny and we are walking in snow and sinking every few steps and taking pictures of each other. The one couple from Australia is kind of elderly and had a little trouble getting around, but just loved doing it. The snow has a blue tinge to it I think because it is mostly ice and the sun is shining down into it. Very beautiful. We then flew back down over the length of the Franz Josef glacier and back to the landing pad. What a lucky lady I am!

Then it was on to Westland and west coast driving and my target of Punakaiki and Pancake rocks and Blowholes on the edge of Paparoa National Park. Along the way I will go through Greymouth the site of the mining disaster. This is foremost in the minds of all New Zealanders right now and a tremendous tragedy. Once again my prayers today will be for all of them. The drive is spectacular. It always is. As a matter of fact, I find myself, at least 5-10 times a day, rounding a corner or cresting a hill, suddenly blurting out loud, “Holy Crap!” The scenery is so unbelievable and so changing and surprising I can’t help but blurt out similar words. It just catches me and then I stop and take a whole bunch of photos that I later have no idea where they’re from and don’t look nearly as cool as the real thing. Thank God they are all digital. I can’t believe I haven’t gotten in an accident pulling over to take pictures. I did stop in the middle of one of the one lane bridges to take one and noticed I was holding up a line of cars. Oops! And I did drive over a really big rock. Bigger oops!

I stopped in Greymouth to gas up and buy groceries as Punakaiki is too small to have either. I arrive at my destination which is called Hydrangeas cottages which I originally picked for its location and the fact they have a horse stable and take ride into the mountains and along the beach. Unfortunately my back is so bad I don’t think I can ride. These cottages are built into the cliffs above the ocean with all natural materials and are across and just down the highway from Pancake Rocks. I have a kitchen, living room and bedroom with a deck overlooking the ocean. Even though I am above the highway I can’t see it, but I can see and hear the ocean. Lovely. I have bought a bottle of NZ champagnes for this stay. I love champagne and I am determined to have some NZ stuff so I took a chance on one I found in Greymouth.

I settle in then decide to take a nap as I am just exhausted. The sun is shining into my bedroom, the surf is lulling me through the open windows and I rest. The driving gets to be tiring. All two lane roads, all winding, all two handed, steering-wheel –clenching driving by myself gets wearing. When my first hosts suggested I buy a GPS I thought they were crazy. I’m a great map reader and never have trouble following signs. What they didn’t tell me, is there are no signs in NZ. Really. I can go for an hour on the highway I just drove and find one, tiny little marker with the number 6 on it. That’s it. And in towns a street might have three different shaped and colored signs on it for three different things. Or none at all. And the same road may change names three times in the course of a mile or two.  I get to a rotary and hope and pray a sign is pointing to the town I want to go to or there might be a highway sign. I’ve only been on one freeway for about two miles in Christchurch and I’ve driven about 1900 Kilometers now. So even though Mrs. Tomtom sometimes starts directing me to an old location, she really has saved me from the land of no signs.

After my nap I drive to the one of only two places for dinner, the Punakaiki Tavern. The resort nearby has not gotten good reviews. I have a nice meal of prawn twists and a local beer and read the newspaper which is pretty much all about the mining disaster. Then it’s back home to open my champagne and sit on the deck overlooking the Tasman Sea. I open a Te Hana Reserve Cuvee made with chardonnay and pinot noire grapes that I bought for $20NZ. It is quite nice. Not too dry, fruity and crisp and I really like it. I would buy it again. I also walk around the grounds of the cottages and admire all the plantings and especially the hydrangeas. There are so many species of plants and flowers here it is, well, like another world. After watching some weird movie in subtitles about Muslim Jihad that I thought was the only channel on TV, I realize how to get one of the three remote controls working and finally find something in English. As I ready myself for bed I realize I left my cell phone in the car. The car is down some outside stairs, then down a ramp and across a small lot, all in the pitch dark. I weigh sleeping without a phone versus going out in the dark. Hmmmm. I decide to go. I find my tiny flashlight and start out. Ferns and palms grab at my hair and I remember the spider web I avoided n the light. Where is it now? I cross the lot, beep the car open and cannot find the cell. Did I lose my one lifeline to the world? I give up looking as I can’t stand being out in the dark any more. I follow the faint light back up the ramp and stairs sure I am being followed by a, I don’t know what, as NZ has no scary animals or bugs or snakes, by a bad human being then. It’s dark. You know how it is! And when I turn off the lights, it’s really dark, but I sleep well.

New Zealand Road Signs

Nov. 26

You know those roads you see that snake up the side of a mountain and you wonder who or what kind of vehicle ever goes on those roads?  I do. Mrs. Tomtom sent me up one today. It was supposedly the quickest way to where I was going and I didn’t realize I had gone off the main highway until it was too late. This road actually had guard rails! It also had a gate closing it in winter, chain bays for pulling over and putting chains on your tires,’ Rocks Falling’ signs everywhere, and the one really confusing sign “Take Extra Care Accident Black Spot”. I still am not sure what I was supposed to be looking for!?! Oh, and after twisting and turning for miles, I would see a yellow sign with a black twisting arrow, like something new was coming up ahead? There were also yellow warning signs with a big black exclamation mark and the words underneath saying “Cattle Stops”. Is that like, a rest stop for cattle? No idea what those meant either?  It was a grueling, terrifying, breathtaking ride that I’m sure a passenger might have enjoyed. For me it was an endurance test only superseded   by my fear the rental car could not handle all the turns and steep grades. I really wished I had my Camaro. But I followed the crazy road through brown, tussock covered mountains for the first hour and eventually came down through a narrow passage into a lush valley. This valley lead to more mountains that became verdant and forest covered. An amazing change of scenery in a short span of time.

I got out of the car to get gas at a station that advertised “Last Gas for 120 Kilometers” and noticed it was much cooler. I had no idea why. I figured maybe the mountains had changed the climate. Back in the car I rounded a corner and saw a huge waterfall sliding down the side of a forested mountain wall, so I pulled into the wayside and walked through a short and stunning rainforest to get to the river into which the water fell. Here I met the infamous NZ sand fly. The minute I slowed down they were on me and biting.  Walk fast and you can outrun them. So, I went quickly back to the car. A few minutes later I rounded another corner and was shocked to see the ocean! That’s why the temperature had fallen. The Tasman Sea was beside me and endlessly flowing away. On one side of me I saw green mountains covered in rainforest with snowcapped mountains behind them and on the other I have the aqua blue Tasman Sea pulling out to Australia. I love New Zealand!!

As I approach the town of Fox Glacier I am craning my neck looking for both the glacier and Mt Cook and Mt Tasman, the two highest peaks. The weather is beautiful, clear and in the high 70’s. After a few clouds over the ocean on the drive up I am anxious to enquire about helicopter rides over the glaciers. This is glacier country with over 400 named glaciers in these mountains, but Fox and Franz Josef are unusual in size and the fact that they are sometime growing, not just receding. After checking in at my drive-up to-my-door-Bates-type motel, I go to the helicopter office. All flights are full today and tomorrow, finally, one spot is found by one of the companies in the morning. I have to keep my fingers crossed for good weather. I pull on my hiking shoes and drive to the road that takes you to the face of Fox Glacier. It is very weird driving through a rainforest filled with palm trees, hanging moss and lush tropical plants on the way to a glacier! I get to the parking lot and start my 20 minute walk to the face or terminal ice.

A word about “easy” hikes. All the hikes are coded easy to difficult and one would think easy is pretty much of a stroll.  Easy is a relative term. Most middle aged and older women who power walk think they are in pretty good shape and easy sounds like a piece of cake. Well, don’t go signing up for any of the Great Walks just yet. Unless it’s a paved or a packed and clear trail and on the flat, power walking hasn’t prepared you for much of anything. It might make you huff and puff a little less than I did climbing the mountain to parasail, but that’s about it. These ‘easy’ trails are covered with roots, rocks, fallen trees and streams to cross. You must be constantly looking down to avoid twisting a foot, ankle or knee, and as a result your neck and shoulders ache from being bunched up. There is no rhythm to your walking because you’re picking your way around and over stuff. If you want to enjoy the view, you actually have to stop and look or you’ll kill yourself. The ups and downs are perilous and murder on older knees. And every time they tell you how long the walk will take, add at least 20% more, just because. The whole way to and from the glacier today I watched people and no one was looking up. Everyone was watching the ground. Granted there are a lot of rocks around glaciers, but the point is no one, young or old, can just run along these trails. So I chuckle now when I read the trail difficulty and know I will never go past easy unless it specifies 5 minutes or less. Because basically, anything harder than easy, is full out mountain climbing, pick ax and all.

The glacier terminal itself was mammoth, had deep blue colors reflecting from within, was shedding gray, rushing, rock filled water down the canyon and generally impressive. I was glad I had taken the easy 20 (30) minute walk (gasp!) out to the face. For dinner I drove to Lake Matheson which has a café that looks directly at Mt Hood and Mt Tasmen and offers a free glass of wine with dinner. On a warm sunny night, what could be better? I had chicken and asparagus risotto with lemon and herbs. Very nice and a great view. Lake Matheson is famous as a lake surrounded by forest and thus very calm and situated in such a way as to be a perfect reflecting pool for Mt Hood at sunrise and sunset. I have enquired and plan to be up at 5:30 AM to take the walk around the lake and be ready to snap the photos of the mountain and its reflection tomorrow morning. I hate getting up early.

Happy Thanksgiving from New Zealand

Nov. 25

Today it is Thanksgiving in America even though it is still the 24^th in America. But in NZ it is the 25^th and no one is celebrating Thanksgiving, so does that mean it isn’t Thanksgiving? My kids wished me a Happy Thanksgiving today even though it wasn’t Thanksgiving in America yet. And one of those kids was in Italy. I’m confused and am only sure I’m not getting turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy. So, today, after all my exertions of the past few days I rested as the good Lord rested on the seventh day. In the morning I actually talked to three of my four children for the first time since September. If that isn’t something to be thankful for, I don’t know what is. And in the afternoon I took a ride to the small town of Arrowtown which grew up around the gold rush here. It’s mainly a tourist spot now, but a lovely drive with some lovely historic buildings. My other reason for going there was to go out for Thanksgiving lunch. That sounds really funny, doesn’t it? No one goes out for Thanksgiving lunch. But since I’ve mainly been eating in at my apartment looking over the lake and mountains I thought I should celebrate the day some way. And frankly, Thanksgiving dinner alone sounds depressing. Lunch in a cute little town is fun. So I picked the historic old Post Office Restaurant and had a wonderful lunch of Blue Cod and aioli sauce with new potatoes and baby greens. Then I walked around, spent a little money shopping and came back home to work on my maps and figure out where I’m going in the next few days,

I’ll be on my way to the glaciers tomorrow morning. The Fox and Franz Josef glaciers not too far from Mt Cook will be my target. High in the mountains on the west coast, I will be out of internet or cell phone range or at best it will be spotty. And the few days after that I will be traveling up the wild and windy west coast to Punakaiki and Pancake Rocks and blowholes before I turn inland to cross over the island again. I will be crossing the South Island three times before heading off to the North Island if all goes as planned. So, I’m not sure when my next post will be.

But, Happy Thanksgiving to all my readers both in and out of America. I am thankful for you, for being here to read what I write, for my chance to be here doing what I am doing, and for the blessings of life and love that God has showered upon me and my family. May we all be blessed by His love and compassion and return it to the people around us.


P.S.
As a footnote, I don't know how much attention this has received in the international press, but the mining explosion here near Greymouth has left this nation in mourning. For the past week since the explosion in the mine, 24 hour news has covered what all hoped would be a positive outcome for the 29 miners and their families. Unfortunately, yesterday the news was all negative. My heart and prayers goes out to all those miners and their families. And I know all the people reading this feel the same way. As I travel that very area tomorrow my rosary will be offered for all of them and I know the prayers of many more will follow too.

Still Queen

Nov. 24

I thought I was going on a simple jet boat ride. I even booked the company whose boat did not hit the rock. One person is still in the hospital, by the way. They picked me up from my apartment which overlooks the lake and the Remarkables mountain range, a large craggy, saw tooth range. I have gorgeous sunrises over the lake and the sun stays on the mountains across the lake until almost 9:30 each night.  The whole wall of my apartment is windows overlooking this stunning array. I don’t know how I’m going to go back to dark, cold Wisconsin. Our driver said we had about a one hour drive and I inwardly groaned thinking of all the bus tours I have taken the last few months. But as we pulled away from town I smiled to myself as I saw the scenery and realized I would finally get to sit back and actually enjoy the ride instead of focusing on the driving.

They have few funny quirks on the roads in NZ . The first is the one lane bridge. If I hadn’t read about it I probably would have just driven over and caused a head-on collision. I don’t know if they are too cheap to build a two lane bridge or don’t have the engineering know-how, but you can be driving along in a good size town and come upon a bridge just wide enough for one car. A round sign will have a red arrow going one way and a bigger black arrow going the other way. The black arrow has the right of way. So you have to look across and see if anyone is on the other side before you start through. You can get big traffic back ups. It’s really strange. They also don’t bother with guard rails. I think it’s a form of population control. They must have the most dangerous roads per car in the world and the least amount of guard rails. Mountain roads, gorges, canyons, cliffs, you name it, they just don’t seem to see the need for them. And when they do put them up, they just use wooden posts and that bent metal rail which at 100kph ain’t stopping anything. And the best thing I saw was when the highway man was repairing one of the metal barriers over this famous gorge and he was replacing the metal with wooden boards. I felt so much safer.

Our little bus made its way to an area that had been the center of the gold strike in the 1800’s. The road into this area is famous and pointed out in many of the guide books, but I’m not allowed on it as rental car companies don’t allow their cars on unpaved roads.  Actually, I wouldn’t have made it a tenth of a mile. We drove into canyons and cliffsides with no room to spare next to the bus wheels. I was looking straight down sides of mountains or inches from the hewn rock of the cliffside.  I would have started crying if I was driving because it was so terrifying and once you start there was no turning back. But not being the driver I actually enjoyed it. We had to go this long route so we could get down to a special river filled with rocks and bends and twists through cliffs for our jet boat ride.  Arriving safely at the bottom we suited up in rain gear and life jackets (no helmets) and climbed aboard our jet boat. I made it into the front seat on the edge. The ride was great; speeds up to 80kph, 360 degree spins that showered us with water, racing through narrow openings in the river, under cliffs, through rapids along boulders and under old bungee jumping bridges. My hair was soaked and we all screamed and laughed quite a bit. On the way out of the canyon we stopped and walked out on a wooden suspension bridge that used to be used for bungee jumping. It was about three feet wide and 320 feet above the river and swayed as we walked. Very cool. We got to throw huge rocks in the river while making a wish and hear them slam into the water like the boom of a shotgun. On the way back I asked a young man who was alone what he had been doing – he did not think I was a stalker! And he said he had done the zipline, something I had been interested in doing. He also reminded me the weather was going to change so I should do outdoor stuff today.

So, once I was dropped off it was on to the Zipline outfit on the peak in town. Once again I went up in the gondola and found the outfitters. They have six tree house stations on the mountain and they take you on an eco-tour as you progress down the mountain from easy to more difficult. The last zipline is the steepest in the world. You can opt for just the first four, but what’s the point in that? There are 7 in our group, three couples and me, and we get all harnessed and helmeted and start off to the first line. The young man on the jet boat tour had assured me it was easy so I wasn’t too scared until I started thinking about how young he was and his definition of easy. The hardest part the first time is walking off the step in to mid- air. You have to tell your brain it’s ok, there’s a line attached and this will be fun. And it is fun about 2 seconds after you feel the cable grab your weight and you start flying through the trees the wind in your face. The next hardest part is letting go of the cable and flinging your arms out wide and screaming. Actually the screaming came quite naturally to me. Next I tried going upside down off the platform. I only made it halfway back, but it was pretty fun. Then the next platform I tried going off the steps without holding onto the cable –another really tough head game. I balled my hands in fists like the guide suggested and I did sort of bring them in front of my body, but I never grabbed the cable. And the last thing I tried was tucking like a cannonball to get more speed and with my added weight from the cruise I really got some speed going, especially on the final, steep line. What they didn’t prepare me for was the 20 minute mountain walk to the last tree house station. Again I had to tramp through the woods on the mountain, only this time is was like straight down on treacherous, rock and root strewn paths at breakneck speed. My knees, back and thighs were screaming. I am not hardy. After three hours on the mountain I crawled home, filled a really hot bath, climbed in and resolved to do nothing but sightsee or shop tomorrow. I’ve had enough adventures.

Queen for a Day

Nov 23

Quenstown. Adventure Capitol of New Zealnad. Home of the Jet boat. Land of the Bungee jumper., skydiver,parasailer, you name it.

What am I going to do? Jet boat for sure – no wake, high speeds, 360 degree turns next to cliffs. I can’t wait. You have to wear a helmet. They had an accident yesterday. Big news. Hit a rock. Five people injured. Not badly. I’m going tomorrow; they should have that rock moved by then! Seriously, 8:30 tomorrow.

But guess what I did today? Took a ride in the gondola. Yep, that gondola goes right up to the peak 2,500 feet above Queenstown. And as I was riding by myself up in that little, enclosed gondola I.m thinking what a beautiful view  this is and it’s really, really getting steep and high so I better not think about how difficult it will be for me to run off the cliff with the paragliding guy. Yep, today I decided to go paragliding, hanging from a parachute. I asked the lady at the desk if it was dangerous, and she laughed and said “Everything’s dangerous here.” So I booked it.

At the top of the peak I went to the hut and found my instructor, Clark, as in Kent,( I’m thinking that’s a good sign)and was really relieved to find out no one solos here, it’s all with an instructor. Because after the ride up I knew there was no way I could just run off a mountain alone. I wasn’t sure I could do it with someone! I also run into the man who thought I was a stalker back at the Glow worm caves. Small world. He is with his wife and baby and they are going to take turns gliding. I then relate how many of the same people I keep running into in each town. I don’t think he thinks I’m a stalker anymore. Then Clark grabs this huge pack and we take a chair lift up a couple hundred more feet and get off and he says it won’t work from there, the winds not right so we need to climb up about 10 minutes. I’m thinking, this is not what I paid for, a mountain hike. And then I almost died. This was up the mountain, through the woods and beyond the tree line. This was not a stroll on a golf course. I was gasping, gasping for breath, my face was beet red and my thighs were starting to quiver and lock. I had to keep stopping and I know Clark is thinking “I got stuck with the out of shape old lady who is going to roll down the hill on takeoff.’ He kept stressing I needed to be able to walk then run for takeoff. And I’m thinking, then give me a frigging ride to the top! I really wasn’t sure I would make it. As we got near the top Clark just finally left me to go get ready. I was relieved, it was so embarrassing.

Once at the top I slowly got my pulse back to merely racing and was able to talk without gasping. There were a few people up there ready to watch. Who takes a walk like that for fun??? As they get the gear ready, the young woman and I kind of peer out over the edge of the hill and look worriedly at each other. It’s not quite a cliff. It’s like a double black diamond ski run. You’re at the top and can’t see over the edge. Clark tells me we will be harnessed together, me in front, and we have to power walk, then run down the hill. I’m thinking, whoa, he’s tall and fit; I’m short and barely alive right now. I ask what happens if I trip. I’m sure he’s thinking I’m his worst nightmare. I mean, the other woman is wondering about falling too it; she’s just too young and proud to say it. I’m imaging tripping and both of us tangling and going head over heels in a big ball of ropes and sails down the hill until we smash into the trees. Clark says something noncommittal.  He puts me into a heavy harness/ seat contraption and tells me I’ll be sitting once we get in the air. Then he tells me exactly where to put my hands and not to touch anything else. I know what that means – don’t accidently eject yourself.

Then it’s time for us to go. The other guys are waiting for us. Again, Clark says do exactly as he says, when he says. Power walk fast, then run. I’m thinking I don’t really run, but…. He starts forward and tells me to walk fast. I walk fast with this heavy crap on my back and a tall guy matching my steps and try not to think of the cliff just a couple feet away. I really don’t see myself running down the side of a mountain. We are at the edge and I’m pumping my little legs as best I can, trying not to look down that cliff and Clark says “we’re up”. I think I was running in the air. I was so terrified of falling down that hill I wasn’t even scared I was suddenly 2,500 feet in the air. It was cool! We were sailing along looking down at the lake and back at the mountain. We started making big lazy loops and catching all sorts of wind so we rode up another 600 feet. I was laughing and talking and just enjoying being up there. The wind would go whistling past as we turned. We went around and looked at the other side of the mountain and out over the lake and could see all the different colors of water at different depths. Clark pointed out the ski hills over at the Remarkables. I think Clark liked me now – I didn’t get us killed. As we went out over the lake he took a bunch of pictures and then a movie as he went into really fast, tight turns. This particular company is called G Force Paragliding and is known for doing some really fun, fast turns to mimic G Forces and as we were coming into the landing area Clark did a bunch of these and they really were incredible. I couldn’t move my head and I thought I might throw up they got so intense.

The landing area is the playground of a school. Clark tells me to put my legs out straight and then hop and stand up when we land. I have no idea what he means. I put my legs out in front of me, see some kids leaving the area and another paraglide instructor right in front of us, and the next thing I know, I’m standing up. At least I didn’t embarrass myself there. I get a DVD and photos of the whole thing and walk away feeling pretty good. I watch a lady land sitting down and feel even better. I came, I huffed and puffed, I conquered. And the whole rest of the day I coughed with asthma from the climb up the mountain.

 I’m thinking of zip lining after the jet boat….

BEE-YOO-TEE FUL

Nov. 22

My day started auspiciously when a phone rang as I was packing and I realized it was my cell phone that no one in my family can get to work. It was Johnny! He had found a way to get through and I talked to him for the first time since September. What a treat!!! I found out all sorts of stuff I didn’t know. But I had to get off eventually because I had a date with a pilot to fly to Milford Sound.

 As I think I mentioned, Fiordland is made up if 16 fiords, none accessible by car, only walking, boating or flying. Jessie had been working on getting me the best flight and cruise on the best day and today turned out to be the first full clear day since I arrived. The pilot in Manapouri where I was staying had to fly and pick up trampers in Milford so she could drop me off at the cruise and then could fly me back to my car after the cruise. So I would be getting two flight instead of one. Usually you take the bus one way, but since she had to go both ways anyway I got a deal.

I drove to the teeny, or as they say here, wee airport and met Jenny my pilot. She took me out to the plane which, without wings, is smaller than my minivan. She had me sit in the co-pilots seat and I could barely see over the dashboard/control panel. It wasn’t a really new airplane either. I was starting to wonder if this was a smart thing to do. Jenny didn’t look very old. I started saying all sorts of prayers: Guardian Angel, St Christopher, Holy Spirit, any one listening.  I mentioned that it was a pretty long runway and she said we wouldn’t need much of it. That sounds good. As we start to taxi the whole column thingy comes toward me and starts turning and I cringe away from it as far as the seat will let me. I have on headphones and a mike to talk with her and she tells me to get ready. So I prepare to be thrown back for takeoff but it is really simple and light and suddenly we are in the air soaring above the valley with Lake Manapouri and the swamps below us.  We are just like a little insect floating through the air with all the earth below us.  The sky is clear blue with just a few white wisps of cloud for contrast. I almost forget I am in a tin can about to go over mountains with a 12 year old at the helm. Almost.

Jenny gave me an excellent commentary on everything we passed over; factual and interesting. They have managed to name everything in NZ: the culverts, the streams, the bridges on every back road, and now I find every peak, saddle, valley and mountain lake, waterfall and river has a name too. This place is a cartographers dream. As we start over the mountains I am torn, torn by exhilaration and terror. One second I am awestruck by the beauty, the majesty, the wonder of what I am seeing and the view I am seeing it from. I am thanking God for this opportunity and this blessing. The next moment I am sure I am going to die. I am begging God for my life. I am wondering if the crash will be painful, will it be quick, will I burn up, will they find the wreckage. Oh my gosh, isn’t that gorgeous? Look at that mountain lake pouring into a waterfall then down into the fiord with the ice just beginning to crack into ice floes. Look, we are above the tree line and the perfectly round lakes still have snow that is tinged pink next to the glacier. Then Jenny decides to show me a canyon that I’m sure is impossible to turn around in.  The grey craggy peaks are getting really, really close. There is no way we can get over them at this point and I’m sure we can’t turn around. The wings are almost touching the mountains. Dear God in heaven I am going to die! I finally squeak out a question about how she knows if the wings will touch or not. She says it’s just like a car; you get a feel for it. And I’m thinking, but you can drive without the bumper you just ripped off, you can’t fly without the wing! But of course we did make the turn. And the same thing would happen when we had to fly over the tall mountain ranges. I would have left at least at thousand foot clearance, and I think Jenny left maybe 10. Like I said, there was a lot of yin and yang going on emotionally for me on the way over to Milford. And as we approach the Milford airport after seeing all these beautiful fiords stretching out to the sea, I see this little, short landing strip, with ocean at the end of it.  Really short. I try to comfort myself by remembering how little we needed to take off. And as we line up for landing, Jenny reaches over, grabs my seat belt and says, “Is it on real tight?” Dear God, I’m going to die!!! Well, we landed just fine, as a matter of fact it was so soft I didn’t know we were down, and we had plenty of runway. I almost got down and kissed the ground. Terra firma!!!

I was then driven over to the cruise wharf where all the ships go out to take people on tours of the fiord. Jessie had booked me on a small ship so it would not be crowded and filled with tour bus people.  It was very nice inside and outside and the day was warm enough to go back and forth. Cruising this sound or fiord is like stepping back in time. The advantage of traveling alone is no one is intruding on your thoughts, and on this cruise I looked at the massive cliffs rising hundreds of feet above me and I knew I was in the Lord of the Rings. I was on the boat with the hobbits and Gandolf and all their companions as they pass the great statues. I saw what they saw and I felt what they felt. I was also in Jurassic Park when they had to get down the river past the pterodactyls. I could hear the shrieks of the flying dinosaurs. People sometimes look at me, the lone traveler, and I know they feel sorry for me and wonder why I’m alone. But I get to go on all sorts of trips in my head; I go on flights of whimsy and fantasy and wonder while they have to talk to each other. I’m tripping along in my head, they’re wishing the person next to them will shut up. These fiords are magnificent and you can see the massive scarring from rock against rock as the glaciers moved away, the rich deposit of copper shining in the sun, but untouchable as it is in a National park, and multitudes of waterfalls from the mountain snow melting.

And on the flight back with Jenny we had three other passengers; a couple and their one year old. I wanted to shout a warning to run for their lives, but instead I appeared really cool and experienced. We took a different way back and the wind was a bit friskier with a few more clouds which occasionally caused me to panic, but I kept up a fine front. As co-pilot I have a lot of responsibility, mainly not to throw up. She has the little white bags on this plane too. The flight back was especially beautiful and I spent time with my own thoughts again and mainly I thanked God for the beauty he has bestowed upon us, the chance for me to see it from this perspective and the ability to appreciate it. It brought tears to my eyes to be so blessed. Anyone who has a chance to do this should.

I then wind my way to Queenstown, adventure capitol of New Zealand. On my way there as I once again marveled at the scenery, it occurred to me that the area I have traveled has been uniquely scenic. If you were to put someone anywhere I have gone and turn them 90 degrees they would see mountains, turn them another 90 degrees and they would see another kind of mountains, maybe soft, mounding freshly green. Turn them another 90 degrees and they would see grey, craggy snow capped mountains. And finally turn them one last time and they would find tall, deeply forested old mountains. And interspersed among these mountains, we find the valleys, plains, rivers, and lakes. Amazing. One of the greatest drives I’ve ever taken is along Lake Wakatipu on the way to Queenstown. This drive rates up there with California Highway 1 south of Carmel and the South of France into Italy. You drive along the winding side of the Remarkables mountains, not as high as California or Italy. But the difference here is instead of just ocean on the other side you have an incredible lake the color of the Caribbean with mountains in the background on the other side. Breathtaking, simply breathtaking.

Nov. 21

I found my passport! Sorry, I forgot to mention it, but I did pack it away in a very special spot I totally forgot about. I have now repacked it in a logical spot I will remember.

Today the weather is still overcast, but since I’m not going on a cruise of the sounds and I bought a walking stick yesterday, I am determined to walk some of the area. I bought a pamphlet yesterday that showed one of those hanging bridges suspended over a river and I’ve always wanted to cross one of those. As a matter of fact, that is one of the things I said I had to do in New Zealand and it is on my Bucket List. So I took the pamphlet over to Jessie and she said it was quite nearby and easy to get to and that I would actually cross over another smaller bridge too if I went a certain way. She wrote out instructions for me because I immediately got confused when she started telling me. So today I became the only person on the famous Kepler Track reading handwritten instructions like a little kid instead of some really cool track map.

I drove a few minutes away to one of the parking lots along the track and put on walking shoes and socks, my bush hat, rain jacket, SPF 50 shirt, my walking stick, water and a nut bar, and of course my back brace as my back has been killing me, and then figured I was good for 20 minutes or so.  I started on what Jessie assured me wouldn’t be too tough of a trip and right off I come upon the big hanging bridge I saw in the pamphlet. I see a couple crossing the bridge and ask if they will take my picture. They agree and I notice they have accents and I ask where they are from and they say Holland and I mention I met quite a few people from Holland on my cruises. They are quite nice, but look like pretty serious trampers as they both have all the gear and two walking sticks apiece. I begin to wonder if I should have bought two!?! After savoring my moment on the bridge I continue on ahead and turn the way Jessie’s directions say and right off I have to climb a big hill in the forest. I thought this would be fun! I’m huffing and puffing and really using my stick and glad I insisted on the one with the pointed metal end as it pulls me up the path, although I thought the point was for protection…..  At the top I have to stop and catch my breath and when I finally look up from my bent over position I realize I have crested a cliff overlooking  a rushing river, the Raiau , and I could easily fall over into this gorgeous view if I put a foot wrong. I have officially entered one of The Great Walks of NZ and this particular river and area is where some of the Lord of the Rings Two Towers was filmed. I continue on in a fantastic forest filled with fallen, moss covered tree trunks, hanging moss and old, gigantic trees mixed with newer growth trees and shrubs. The sun comes and goes and a slight mist falls occasionally. It is easy to believe a hobbit, or worse, (“Fresh meat”) is behind each tree or bend. I cross paths with others trampers and we say hello. Some are in for multi-day hikes and carry heavy packs, a few are jogging and getting ready for some crazy 43K run on the Track in a week. I kept tripping on roots and rocks, I can’t imagine running without spraining an ankle.

The nice part of walking in NZ is there are no dangerous critters around. No snakes, no poisonous spiders, no foxes, coyotes, wolves, lions, alligators, etc. They didn’t even have mice or rodents of any kind until they were introduced by sailing vessels. If you’re walking, your biggest problem is your own ignorance and stupidity. So I wasn’t concerned about critters, just myself and the people I would meet on the trail. I came across the other, smaller hanging bridge so I was just thrilled, but had to try and take my own photo – not very successful.   I made it in to the boardwalk over a swamp that Jessie had directed me to, but it took me a bit longer than she said. I was both slower and a dawdler at the pretty parts. Some of the grades on the track were pretty steep and I really used my stick, especially going downhill, and on the way back my knee really started hurting. I’m not exactly hardy. When I finally make it back to the parking lot I figure I have been walking about two and a half hours, but they were tough hours and I am beat, thirsty and hungry. I drink in the car and then drive back toward Manapouri where I know an easy walk goes along the beach and around part of the lake. I drive in and see a family putting kayaks in the water and get out of the car and find a path to the beach and discover I am surrounded by thousands of Lupine on the edge of the beach and a flat rock is just begging for me to sit on it. So I rest my tired, achy body on the rock in the sun with the Lupines and their aroma around me and watch the kids practice kayaking. Across the lake is the mighty Fiordland Park, A World Heritage Site, with huge mountains and miles of forests, rivers and lakes a teeny, tiny fraction of which I just tramped. I am mighty proud of myself!

Tonight I went over to Jessie and Rays’ for dinner. They so nicely invited me for home cooking which I really, dearly miss, and to help me plan the rest of my trip. Across the street is a deer farm or Wapiti, a cross between our north American deer and an elk. The deer are all giving birth right knew and it is quite a treat to watch as you can tell when a mother has given birth because the others all walk by the new mother and give notice to something in the grass and then the mother goes and hides the baby and the baby will not move until the mother tells it to. They say you can often go and pick a baby up they are so obedient to a mother’s command. If only human children were so easy! Anyway, Jessie and Ray have a metal bird sculpture in their yard I pass when I go into their house each time and I mentioned it tonight. They said it was very special and made out of terta. I had no idea what that was, but I didn’t’ say anything because the first week in NZ I thought the ruma all the homes were made out of was a tree, and it turns out it was a type of stone. I didn’t want to look silly again. Then they went on to say they thought part of it was from a motorcycle too and I realized a terta was a Toyota. I will never get this accent right! We had a lovely dinner of turkey, gravy and cooked fall vegetables. I secretly pretended it was my Thanksgiving meal. After dinner they helped me with a new plan for the South Island and I think I will change some of my plans and not see a lot of the north. I am getting tired (and achy) with the activities combined with the driving and trying to write.  I think I will stay longer in fewer places, but who knows?

After I finally turned out my lights and went to bed with visions of flying into Milford Sound tomorrow, I realized a lot of light was coming in my bedroom window. I figured I accidently left the yard light on so I went over to check out my window. There hung the most brilliant, piercing full moon risen over the mountains throwing shadows where it couldn’t throw light. Sensational. And to top it off, it was a Blue Moon, you know the ‘once in a blue moon’ saying. A blue moon is a full moon that occurs more than once in a month. Well, I’m certainly only under these skies, seeing a blue moon, only once in a blue moon.

 

A Tramping I Will Go (That means hiking here!)

Nov. 21

I found my passport! Sorry, I forgot to mention it, but I did pack it away in a very special spot I totally forgot about. I have now repacked it in a logical spot I will remember.

Today the weather is still overcast, but since I’m not going on a cruise of the sounds and I bought a walking stick yesterday, I am determined to walk some of the area. I bought a pamphlet yesterday that showed one of those hanging bridges suspended over a river and I’ve always wanted to cross one of those. As a matter of fact, that is one of the things I said I had to do in New Zealand and it is on my Bucket List. So I took the pamphlet over to Jessie and she said it was quite nearby and easy to get to and that I would actually cross over another smaller bridge too if I went a certain way. She wrote out instructions for me because I immediately got confused when she started telling me. So today I became the only person on the famous Kepler Track reading handwritten instructions like a little kid instead of some really cool track map.

I drove a few minutes away to one of the parking lots along the track and put on walking shoes and socks, my bush hat, rain jacket, SPF 50 shirt, my walking stick, water and a nut bar, and of course my back brace as my back has been killing me, and then figured I was good for 20 minutes or so.  I started on what Jessie assured me wouldn’t be too tough of a trip and right off I come upon the big hanging bridge I saw in the pamphlet. I see a couple crossing the bridge and ask if they will take my picture. They agree and I notice they have accents and I ask where they are from and they say Holland and I mention I met quite a few people from Holland on my cruises. They are quite nice, but look like pretty serious trampers as they both have all the gear and two walking sticks apiece. I begin to wonder if I should have bought two!?! After savoring my moment on the bridge I continue on ahead and turn the way Jessie’s directions say and right off I have to climb a big hill in the forest. I thought this would be fun! I’m huffing and puffing and really using my stick and glad I insisted on the one with the pointed metal end as it pulls me up the path, although I thought the point was for protection…..  At the top I have to stop and catch my breath and when I finally look up from my bent over position I realize I have crested a cliff overlooking  a rushing river, the Raiau , and I could easily fall over into this gorgeous view if I put a foot wrong. I have officially entered one of The Great Walks of NZ and this particular river and area is where some of the Lord of the Rings Two Towers was filmed. I continue on in a fantastic forest filled with fallen, moss covered tree trunks, hanging moss and old, gigantic trees mixed with newer growth trees and shrubs. The sun comes and goes and a slight mist falls occasionally. It is easy to believe a hobbit, or worse, (“Fresh meat”) is behind each tree or bend. I cross paths with others trampers and we say hello. Some are in for multi-day hikes and carry heavy packs, a few are jogging and getting ready for some crazy 43K run on the Track in a week. I kept tripping on roots and rocks, I can’t imagine running without spraining an ankle.

The nice part of walking in NZ is there are no dangerous critters around. No snakes, no poisonous spiders, no foxes, coyotes, wolves, lions, alligators, etc. They didn’t even have mice or rodents of any kind until they were introduced by sailing vessels. If you’re walking, your biggest problem is your own

ignorance and stupidity. So I wasn’t concerned about critters, just myself and the people I would meet on the trail. I came across the other, smaller hanging bridge so I was just thrilled, but had to try and take my own photo – not very successful.   I made it in to the boardwalk over a swamp that Jessie had directed me to, but it took me a bit longer than she said. I was both slower and a dawdler at the pretty parts. Some of the grades on the track were pretty steep and I really used my stick, especially going downhill, and on the way back my knee really started hurting. I’m not exactly hardy. When I finally make it back to the parking lot I figure I have been walking about two and a half hours, but they were tough hours and I am beat, thirsty and hungry. I drink in the car and then drive back toward Manapouri where I know an easy walk goes along the beach and around part of the lake. I drive in and see a family putting kayaks in the water and get out of the car and find a path to the beach and discover I am surrounded by thousands of Lupine on the edge of the beach and a flat rock is just begging for me to sit on it. So I rest my tired, achy body on the rock in the sun with the Lupines and their aroma around me and watch the kids practice kayaking. Across the lake is the mighty Fiordland Park, A World Heritage Site, with huge mountains and miles of forests, rivers and lakes a teeny, tiny fraction of which I just tramped. I am mighty proud of myself!

Tonight I went over to Jessie and Rays’ for dinner. They so nicely invited me for home cooking which I really, dearly miss, and to help me plan the rest of my trip. Across the street is a deer farm or Wapiti, a cross between our north American deer and an elk. The deer are all giving birth right knew and it is quite a treat to watch as you can tell when a mother has given birth because the others all walk by the new mother and give notice to something in the grass and then the mother goes and hides the baby and the baby will not move until the mother tells it to. They say you can often go and pick a baby up they are so obedient to a mother’s command. If only human children were so easy! Anyway, Jessie and Ray have a metal bird sculpture in their yard I pass when I go into their house each time and I mentioned it tonight. They said it was very special and made out of terta. I had no idea what that was, but I didn’t’ say anything because the first week in NZ I thought the ruma all the homes were made out of was a tree, and it turns out it was a type of stone. I didn’t want to look silly again. Then they went on to say they thought part of it was from a motorcycle too and I realized a terta was a Toyota. I will never get this accent right! We had a lovely dinner of turkey, gravy and cooked fall vegetables. I secretly pretended it was my Thanksgiving meal. After dinner they helped me with a new plan for the South Island and I think I will change some of my plans and not see a lot of the north. I am getting tired (and achy) with the activities combined with the driving and trying to write.  I think I will stay longer in fewer places, but who knows?

After I finally turned out my lights and went to bed with visions of flying into Milford Sound tomorrow, I realized a lot of light was coming in my bedroom window. I figured I accidently left the yard light on so I went over to check out my window. There hung the most brilliant, piercing full moon risen over the mountains throwing shadows where it couldn’t throw light. Sensational. And to top it off, it was a Blue Moon, you know the ‘once in a blue moon’ saying. A blue moon is a full moon that occurs more than once in a month. Well, I’m certainly only under these skies, seeing a blue moon, once in a blue moon.

Overcast Fiordland

Nov 20

I forgot to mention in all my driving I have noticed my family has been named after all these places in NZ. There have been several St Patrick’s churches and the Patrick River, the John Burns studio, I passed the Mary Burn (I found out a burn is a stream or creek) and last, the Roaring Meg. That was the stream at the bottom of the gorge I drove over three times.  But the best sign I’ve seen was the wayside sign that read “Roaring Meg Lookout” because that’s what we say whenever Meggy is in a bad mood:)  (Couldn’t resist Meg!)Now I need to find something named after me.

By the way, all the scenery is spectacular and I can’t begin to describe it all.  Every part of my drive, aside from the cities or towns has been everything I could want from this trip. I would love to send back a live, real time mini-cam of where I am. The weather changes the mountain views constantly and as I drive the terrain is always unfolding new and incredible treasures. I won’t be able to describe all this to you, but I will try to mention the highlights, without being boring or repetitive.

Today arrived overcast and cool so I slept in. After I finally made myself climb out from under the warm down comforter and dressed , made some coffee and ate breakfast, I took my computer over to the main house to hook up to the internet. Once there, I met a couple from Calgary staying in the house and I got some tips on where I should go for the rest of my trip from Jessie. We also looked at the weather patterns for the next few days and decided Monday was the best day to try the Milford Sound cruise and flyover. I have discussed with her the best way to see the sounds and she definitely thinks it is by helicopter or airplane as the cruise only shows the scenery from the water. She also suggests I go into Te Anua and see a special movie filmed of the sounds by a helicopter pilot who also worked on LOR’s.

I wrote for a little while then headed in to Te Anau. With mountains on both sides and behind me, a lake alongside and the sheep and cattle beside me, I wind my way to Te Anua and their Visitors Center. I picked up some info on walking the different tracks and headed to the wharf for a trip to the Glow Worm caves. These caves were across the lake so we took a beautiful new catamaran toward South sound and around some islands for about 25 minutes and were let off at the entrance to the caves. A guided tour took us bending way down into the caves. After a minute we could stand again and were lead deep into the mountain along wet walkways and dripping walls, and rushing, thundering underground rivers, waterfalls and whirlpools. Eventually we reached a boat landing and got into a boat that is sent into a pitch black, really, really black, dark cavern where the glow worms live. We looked above us in the blackness and tiny pin pricks of light dotted the dark. It was like mini-lites or a night sky in the far north. We traveled in silence for about 5-10 minutes watching the patches of light. The worms use the light to attract a mate and it was enthralling to sit and watch in silence.  We came to the end of the cavern and were once again in the tunnels of rushing water. We followed the guide and emerged into daylight in the forest beside the sound. Quite an interesting and beautiful experience. I cruised back to town and drove to the special cinema to see the movie made by the helicopter pilot so I can get a peek at what I will be doing in two days. I sit next to a man who was on the Glow worm cruise. I think he thinks I am stalking him. The movie is stunning and I am getting excited about the trip. I then went  to Saturday night mass. The tiny church has a hunchback, really old priest and a total of 10 people including 3 children.  I still can’t understand what most people are saying. If I hadn’t know this gospel by heart I would have been completely confused. After mass I went grocery shopping and was shocked by food prices. I  skipped a bottle of diet Coke because I wouldn’t pay $3.79 for one bottle. A box of cereal is $6.50 and grapes $10.00 a kilo. I then spend $8 on fish and chips (not bad) for dinner. I get two huge pieces of cod and tons of fries all wrapped up in newspaper, piping hot. I ate it at the lake front and drive home stuffed. I then watched TV with Tiger the big, beautiful resident cat sitting and purring on my lap. All in all, I spent a nice relaxing first day in Fiordland.

Driving NZ Style

Nov. 19

Last night I went to my car from the B&B to get something about 9:00PM and when I came back to my room I looked out at the yard and thought someone had turned on a floodlight. The mountains were suddenly lit up like it was sunrise and I really thought a yard light had been turned on. Then I realized the setting sun had found a break between two peaks in the west and was bursting through onto the far peak that were in front and to the right of me. It was incredible. Moments before it had been almost dark and I was ready for my bath. I grabbed my camera and ran out my door to the yard. Sandy met me out there and said only rarely did this happen and you have to be watching at that moment as it wouldn’t last long. And as we watched we saw the sun light the very top of some of the snow covered peaks and the sky above started to stain a pale gold and pink. Meanwhile the light was already leaving the peaks on the far right. I was snapping away.

After this fantastic display I went to my bathroom, filled my large, deep tub with hot water and bubble bath and had a nice long soak with a good book and a NZ beer. Then I cooled off in the special rainforest shower and went to watch satellite TV. Nothing to watch on all those channels; simply amazing that I ended up watching the one American TV show that was airing among all the shows.  

This morning I had a very mediocre breakfast-I’ve been spoiled by Pam and Denis- but breathtaking views of Lake Tekapo and the mountains beyond from the dining room table.  Then I started my 5+ hour drive to Manpouri in Fiordland on the south end of the island. I programmed Mrs. Tomtom with my next destination, a self-catering cottage in Manapouri owned by two rangers for the Milford Sound Park, the largest in NZ. I figured the location was perfect for all the Sounds and the information from my hosts would be invaluable. I had already e-mailed with Jessie several times and she had some very good tips.

As I left Lake Tekapo area I was again struck by the abundance of Lupines. Sandy had told me they are members of the pea family and at one point had been planted along the roadside. As pea-type plants the pods heat up and pop open and drop their seed, thus reseeding themselves. My drive was serenaded by a symphony of Lupines for the next two hours. It was incredible. One side of my car passed brown and green slashed, rounded mountains, the other, jagged, jutting snow dappled peaks while the middle of the valley spread wide with Lupine and sheep and cattle. Eventually the yellow gold bush came back and at one point, completely brown mountains covered only with mounded, tan grass bushes. I was afraid of falling asleep even with all this beauty and diversity so first I made a poem to the Lupine, then I sang along to a really cheap CD I bought of Dean Martin (think: That’s Amore and Volare)

Lupine, Lupine paint my way

Kiwi blossom proud and gay.

Flower, weed it matters not

For to me much joy you brought

The southwest of NZ is made up of what are known as 16 sounds, but are really fiords. The original English and Welsh explorers who discovered them named them sounds, such as Doubtful and Milford, the most famous, but they are actually fiords. A sound is a drowned river valley, while a fiord is created by glacial action. So the region is called Fiordland as these are all fiords, but the fiords are still called after the original name of the sounds the explorers used. The area is one huge park mainly accessible by foot or boat. This is where The Great Walks take place and are known as Tracks such as Kepler, Routeburn, Milford, and Hollyford. All these are several days long and require reservations as you need to stay in huts along the way. This is Mecca to backpackers. It also has unpredictable weather, but certain clouds and rain at least once within a several day hike.

As far as driving in NZ, the second day I lost a mud flap on my car. Not my fault- it just started coming off because a bolt was lost so I put it in the trunk. But yesterday I was driving along and because I’m not quite used to sitting on the right side as I drive, I tend to veer to the left a bit and I have no idea what I slid along, but I heard a really long wrenching noise on the left side of the car and a kind of shudder. I pulled over and went around to check and I had somehow mangled my left front wheel cover to the point where it was in pieces and I just pulled the rest of it off. The back is in bad shape too, but I left it on. Glad I have insurance

 I still don’t have the hang of turning right if there is no oncoming car or I’m flustered, I automatically move into the right lane which is fine if no one is around, but as soon as a car starts coming it’s a bit awkward to try and get over where I’m supposed to be on the left. The other thing is it’s really hard to enjoy the fantastic scenery when you’re focused on the driving. And sometimes it’s not because of the left side driving, it’s because a lot of what I did today was two-handed, white knuckle driving. I left at 10:30 in the morning and got into Manapouri at 6:45 in the evening. The whole drive was mountains interspersed with a few valleys.  Driving is all two lane roads with lots of camper vans, semis and tour busses, so you can imagine the tight squeeze I often feel and the little tinge of panic as I round a bend of sheer cliff on one side and drop-off on the other and meet a speeding tour bus.  I did manage to drive back and forth over one gorge three times, but that was Mrs. Tomtoms fault. Somewhere along the way, she started directing me back to where I had come from the night before, and I, like the sheep all around me, decided to follow her. And I followed her back over one of the worst gorge roads in NZ – twice. And then when I got over it the second time I realized she must be nuts (not me, of course) and checked what she was doing, saw the error of her ways and corrected the destination. Always trust your instincts not those stupid little gizmos. Then I went over the gorge a third time with a police man following the whole way. What fun!!! And it was getting late and I was running low on gas and the cop would not get off my tail and I was hungry and thirsty and had to go to the bathroom and I couldn’t take one hand off the wheel to eat or drink. Phew! And all the gas stations close at 5:00PM. What is with that? No one needs gas at the end of the day? My tank was less than an eighth full and Mrs. Tomtom said I had an hour to go. I had no idea if the car would get that far. I prayed two rosaries, sweated a lot, and finally, in the middle of bloody nowhere, came to a town with an open gas station. I almost kissed the man. He even pumped the gas. How cool is that? God is good. The owner of the station even has a son in Minnesota. That is like the third person I have met here who has a relative in Minnesota.

I continued my drive to Manapouri with a much lighter heart and prayers of thanksgiving. From now on the tank does not go below half. Duh! I found my resting place, a small cottage behind the owner’s house with a kitchenette and garden with views of the mountains in several directions. I’m 1 minute from Manapouri and the lake on the edge of the park and 20 minutes from Te Anau the gateway to Doubtful Sound, glow worm caves and all sorts of hikes. The weather is iffy so I don’t know what I will be doing, but I hope to take a boat and helicopter trip over Milford sound sometime in the next few days. Stay tuned.

Real Mountains

Nov. 18

I awoke to my last breakfast with Denis and Pam. They have been so friendly and warm and invited me into their home and family – what a lovely way to be introduced to NZ. This morning Denis made his special fried banana and French toast and bacon breakfast for me. It was really special and since finding out I was in the restaurant business he has been feeling really pressured. It’s cute. I also had two more of the NZ flat creams, large cappuccinos. I just love the name and the foam and Pam sprinkles chocolate on top and I even add a little sugar – that is sooo weird for me. I’m becoming kiwi –ized. 

I was getting ready to leave and Denis was very nicely taking all my bags, including the new one I had to buy, to my car when he happened to ask me if I had my passport. I had completely forgotten about it since I arrived. I vaguely remembered doing something with it, but couldn’t place it exactly. I started searching the most likely places in my bags, while they searched my room and old suitcase. No luck. I felt a little trickle of panic, I hate getting old! Pam had to leave for an appointment and Denis waited while I searched. I felt incredibly foolish. I couldn’t find it and finally decided it must be in one of the big suitcases and I would just tear that apart at the next stop. I hugged Denis and programmed Mrs. Tomtom and left Christchurch behind.

I headed south over the Canterbury plains travelling along long flat fields dotted with the soft cream of sheep everywhere. I crossed the Rakaia River on NZ’s longest bridge and noticed once again that they like to name culverts. Yes, that’s right, the pipes that go under the roads all have names such as McNeely’s Culvert, Fox Hill Culvert #2, Ratikki Culvert, and so on. How would you like a culvert named after you? Come to New Zealand! And guess what else? Those really were hills I drove over yesterday. As I drive along the Canterbury plains I look to my right and there rising from the flats are huge, brown jutting mountains, some with a little snow still covering them. I wonder how I am going to get over them. I also notice lots of yellow bushes and realize I am seeing the source of the sprinkled saffron on the mountain tops yesterday. These are thick scrub brush with heavy profusions of gorgeous yellow gold blossoms that absolutely blanket whole areas of the mountain face. I had to pull over and take a picture. I realize how blessed I am to be here at this time of year and see this bounty of spring blossoms and smell the amazing variety of perfumes in the air.

I realized the ground was slowly rising and the road was twisting and I was driving pretty darn fast for a novice Leftie on a mountain road. I even got frustrated by a slow person in front of me and found my speedometer over 100!  Without realizing it I was in the mountains and the road took a huge loop and there in front of me was a magnificent snow covered mountain range. Not softly rolling hills or rounded tops, but jutting perfect triangles just like we drew as kids, all covered with snow and shining in a sun that was far from me. The great Mt Cook, at 12,348 feet, beckoned from afar. I sped over the twisting, rolling mountain roads finding and then losing my views of the mountains. It was a chase that compelled me to speed for some reason. Silly, but true. Once I rounded a corner and literally put on the brakes.  I hit a flat area and when I came around the bend both sides of the road were filled with blooming Lupine in all colors and the mountain range with snow caps was framed by this bounty. It was breathtaking and I once again had to take a photo.

 As I continued on I came to Lake Tekapo which sits on the near side of the mountain range and literally mirrors the range. A church of local stone is built upon its shores as a memorial to the pioneers of this Mackenzie Country area. You look through the entrance and see the mountain range beyond for a truly spiritual experience. I found my B&B above the town and was shown to my room by Sandy a woman not nearly as nice as Pam and pretty much all business and no warmth. She just sort of pointed me toward town. My room has wonderful views of the mountains and a door to the patio and yard so I am sitting facing the mountains as I type. I went into town and down to the Church of the Good Shepherd as it is called.  It is sensationally situated overlooking the lake, but more than that, the land running down to the lake is filled, filled with Lupines of every color. People were going nuts taking pictures of these Lupines. I probably took 50; and then 50 more of the mountains reflected in the lake. Serious camera buffs were in heaven. After awhile most the people left and I picked my way over the rocks and made it down to the shoreline. I sat on a rock for about 25 minutes and just contemplated the beauty and the serenity of this spot. No wonder they put a church here, you can’t see all of this and believe it was just coincidence. God is so entirely present in nature. As I sat there not a thing moved on or in the lake, no sounds came from the shores, no movement anywhere. Everything quieted just for me. Me and God.  Another great intro to New Zealand.

A Kiwi I Will Be!

Note:

I'm now in New Zealand and moving around. I realize writing and posting may be erratic as I don't know where I will be and when I will have internet and I hate to publish such a long post as this. in the future if I get this far behind I may abbreviate my posts. I know my family doesn't always have time for the lengthy posts and I would like to know what others of you think about the length of my posts. Please comment or send me an e-mail. Thanks.

Nov. 15

Woke up and finished frantic last minute packing. It won’t all fit. I have to put left over junk in a paper bag. Two carry-ons and a paper bag. I hand out a few last minute addresses, eat a quick breakfast and report downstairs at the appointed time. I weigh my carry-ons and the main one is way over weight. Oh well. It is 8:45 and we have to collect our suitcases, go through Customs and then we are officially released. I walk thru with Hazel, but we get separated in the luggage room. I finally struggle to get 6 pieces of luggage on a trolley and break one nail. Then: the dreaded Australian Customs with sniffing dogs and tough restrictions. I admit I have tea I hadn’t declared, but luckily get a nice guy who was born 9 days earlier than me and just asked to see it. And as my Aussie friends had told me they do this, I had left it in an outside pocket. He was really nice and said it was ok, but to declare it in NZ so they wouldn’t get mad. Then I was out of there and officially a free woman at 9:00 in the morning. I caught a taxi and he took me for a $40 ride to my hotel near the airport I had booked months ago. I was praying they had the reservation and after a little searching, it was found. I planned on having to sit in the lobby most the day, but God is good, my room was ready.

I came right up to a beautiful room, got my luggage and took a nap. Exhausted. I also turned on real TV. I haven’t seen a TV show since September, only movies or CNN. Yuck. Nothing much on but it was so nice to see the Simpsons. Like being back in America. Next I decided I needed to find food not at the hotel where prices are even more outrageous than in Sydney. So I went and asked if there were any shops and they told me where to walk about 15 minutes away. So off I went in the heat of the afternoon. I prayed a rosary as I walked along a little residential street until I finally came to the shopping spot; typical neighborhood shopping street. I roamed up one side and down the other. I went in a clothing store out of curiosity and looked in all the food stores. I stopped for coffee and a sandwich at Gloria Jeans because it was air-conditioned. Isn’t that pitiful? Then I went to an IGA. Do they have those everywhere? I bought an orange, iced tea, chips. Then I stopped at one bakery and bought dinner, and at another bakery and bought breakfast. Then I walked back the way I had come –still hot. Every house I passed has a tiny fenced in yard in the front. It doesn’t matter how big, but they are all fenced and usually planted and tended very well and fun to look into. I think a kookaburra yelled at me once.

When I got back I went down to the fitness center and took a long Jacuzzi as my back had been really hurting lately. Doctors orders:)

Nov.15

Arrived at the most beautiful little garden in suburban Christchurch after a harrowing, terrifying, out-loud-praying -drive -on -the–left from-the-airport. The Lilac Rose B&B is an old mansion surrounded by hundreds of rose bushes in full bloom. I found Pam, the owner, and Abbey the Golden Retriever in the front garden when I arrived. She welcomed me and showed me to my lovely room with two sets of French doors opening out to the back yard porches and gardens and my own huge tiled bathroom. Then we sat for a cup of coffee in their Great Room and I met her husband who for the life of me I can’t tell you what his name is. I just don’t understand anyone. I sat with Canadians on the flight over on Air New Zealand and every time they made an announcement the Canadians would look at me and ask what they said and I would just shrug. We never had a clue what was going on, even when they served lunch we weren’t sure what the choices were. That evening I walked to a nearby Thai noodle restaurant for dinner then came back and sat with the owners (still don’t know his name) and their other guests, Aussies, for a bit. I was exhausted, mainly from trying to figure out what people were saying, so I went and took a really nice shower and snuggled in the very comfy bed. Hello New Zealand!

Nov. 16

I woke to sounds of food being prepared in kitchen behind the wall of my bed. My bed was all cozy in the night with the lovely high ceiling and deep crown molding with a coffered ceiling and a chandelier above my bed encircled by leafy ceiling rose molding. I creep to my bathroom which is next door – private and mine alone, but in the hall – perhaps that is what the term ‘ensuite ‘ means in all these descriptions? I realize the tile floor is heated. Heavenly! I dress and go to the kitchen and find Denis (that’s his name! I asked how he spells it-clever, huh?) and Pam with the Aussies who are preparing to leave. They make me coffee from their nifty machine, a flat white or, as we say, cappuccino. Then after the Aussie’s leave they ask what I want for breakfast and I ask what they specialize in. Denis says he does the full English style breakfast and Pam says she does the eggs Benedict. So I say I’ll try them both whenever they want to do them. Denis goes first. I eat homemade muesli with all sorts of nuts and grains mixed with yogurt and creamy fruit and some sort of apricot compote while he cooks. Yum! Then Dennis puts a platter of food in front of me: two gorgeous orange yolked, free range, sunny-side up eggs cooked perfectly and crispy edged, two potato cakes, two broiled tomato quarters,  a large sort of fatty piece of bacon and several chunks of sausage along with a piece of toast I never touch. Then Pam shows me a tomato sauce her sister makes to eat with the eggs. I sit with this tremendous view of hundreds of roses in their garden and the morning sun pouring through the open door from the porch. I pig out. We discuss the fact that I need to get a cell phone, a new duffel bag and they both agree I should get GPS. So I get directions to a mall nearby. Yes, I am going to drive to a mall. I don’t understand anything anyone says; I keep saying “excuse me” and “I’m sorry, what did you say”. I feel like such a jerk. And I can hardly stay on the road, but what the heck I need the practice.

They have a strange law that whoever is turning right always has the right of way, which sounds ok in our country. But here if you are turning left from the left lane into the left lane you naturally think you have the right of way, but you don’t. So I was warned to always just give way to everyone. I did manage twice to go down a street on the wrong side of the road after turning right – another thing I was warned about. Horrifiying. But the good Lord made sure those streets were empty. And every few block there is a roundabout and I have no idea who has right of way and what lane I should be in so I just get in the circle and pray the whole way around and fly out when I think it’s my turn.  And once I did turn left in front of a not very happy fellow. Pam said they are going to change that rule soon. And the stupid lane change signaler is on the wrong side of the steering wheel and you push it the opposite way you normally do. So every single turn I hit the windshield wipers on the left side of the steering wheel and then signal the wrong way from the right side and start to turn in the wrong lane, all while I am going about 20 kilometers under the speed limit. Tomorrow I take the narrow, windy cliff roads to the ocean. Want to come?

Anyways, I am proud to say I managed to go to three malls, get lost once, park twice on the left side of the road, try to get in on the wrong side of the car several times, buy a phone, a duffel bag and a GPS and not get in an accident. I then took the bus down town. Much easier to navigate than parking and it was a straight shot from the Lilac Rose B&B. And I was proud of myself for getting downtown too. I made it to cathedral Square which is the towns’ namesake and went immediately into the church; a very nice neo- Gothic  Anglican church completed in 1904. I then went out a bought a tram ticket in front of the church which takes you on one of the old horse drawn or electric carriages (now all on a track) through the historic part of downtown Christchurch. I first took the whole circle ride which takes you over the Avon river and past the botanical gardens and several colleges and historic buildings and parks and through a street of Spanish buildings. I then used the hop on and hop off feature to visit the Centre of Contemporary Art and the Arts Center for several hours, then re-boarded the tram to take me to the Spanish street where I took a photo of the John Burns Store of Modern Art, then walked to an Irish pub I had spotted earlier. I went and sat at the bar and ordered the first non-dark beer I didn’t recognize --$8.50 for a pint. Did I mention this was one of the hottest days they’ve had around here in awhile and I needed to rehydrate after my exertions? I also ordered a water and the bartender wanted to know if I wanted a pint or half pint of water. Eventually a man came and sat next to me and where do you think he was from? Montana. I go all the way to New Zealand and sit next to an American. It turns out he works on heavy machinery in the Antarctic and is waiting for clear skies to fly down there and this bar is where lots of these guys hang out. They have photos of them all over the walls. So at least he is a bit interesting as there is a cricket match on TV and that’s as boring as it gets. I finish up my pint and turn down his offer of another as I’m terrified I won’t be able to figure out where my bus stop is. I get to the bus stop and I must look like I know something as a man actually asks  me a question about where the bus goes and I happen to know the answer because the bus is going where I went to buy all my stuff this morning. Aren’t I clever? So clever that I daydream my way right past my stop and had to walk several blocks back to where I was supposed to get off. But it helped me go right by the New Zealand chain of Wisconsin Burgers the” sinfully delicious burger”, so I went in and ordered one. I ate it at a table on the sidewalk while I read from a Readers Digest – I really miss my American magazines! The burger was quite good, not like ours, but still a nice meal. Walked back to my lovely B&B and told Denis and Pam I was home safely and I came to my room to write this. It’s a bit difficult as I don’t have a desk and just sit on the bed so my back is not in the best position, but I’ll be fine I’m just a bit knackered as they say.

Nov. 17

Guess what? I can’t drive on the wrong side of the car, on the wrong side of the road, look at a map, try to find road signs and figure out where I’m going by myself in a foreign country. I need a navigator in the passenger seat telling me when to turn. So Mrs. Tomtom has to do the job. I really could not have left the suburbs of Christchurch and headed over the mountains to the Banks Peninsula and the town of Akaroa without Mrs. Tomtom telling me when to turn. Denis helped me program the GPS device and then I was off after another huge breakfast of eggs Benedict ala Pam and Denis. Delicious! They told me to drive over the ‘hill’ and I would be in Akaroa, a French inspired settlement in a beautiful bay on a peninsula that stretches into the Pacific Ocean. Now this ‘hill’ I have to drive over is what I call mountains, and there are lots of them – like an hours’ worth of mountain roads to get over. So I’m really focusing on driving in the left lane and I do pretty well when I’m following another car although I do notice a lot of people passing me. As a matter of fact whenever there is a curve and the yellow sign says to slow down to 85 mpk I look at the speedometer and I’m already at 80mpk. Hey, I’m just learning. I don’t even know how fast that really is. I still haven’t figured out the temperature thing and now I’ve got the kilometer and liters for gas and kilos for weight – I have absolutely no idea what any number really means anymore, except my age. I’ve decided not to try and figure it out.  I KNOW 100 mpk is too fast for a two lane mountain road with no shoulder and no guard rails. I don’t need the translation. I KNOW it’s too fast. And I know 85 ain’t slow enough. And  one hairpin curve after another, in the left hand lane, I was clinging tightly to my steering wheel  hoping and praying the tires were really, really good on this car. Meanwhile, who else was on the road? Bikers!!! Bicyclists. I went around a curve and there were a slew of insane bikers pedaling away where they can’t be seen by traffic in either direction. One got killed last week. It’s horrible. And then I would be driving along thinking I was doing fine and suddenly autopilot would kick in and I would have a total terror/panic attack, heart racing, palms sweating, thinking I was in the wrong lane and I would have to talk my brain down and tell it we were okay, left lane is good. It’s a brain game teaching myself this left lane driving.

But, the scenery was beyond fantastic and I would have given anything to not be driving. It really was right out of the books. And it’s spring with everything in bloom. I wanted to stop constantly and take pictures of the flowers, but there really wasn’t a shoulder except in a few spots. I saw mountain Lupine in lavender, white and pink blooming all over, right out of the side of the road and the mountains; little bright red flowers and trees in full blossom heavy with huge flowers I have never seen before. There were also these green box trees that actually grew really tall and close but perfectly straight and flat just like they had been pruned flat as a box. Amazing. And sheep – it is New Zealand and there are sheep everywhere; soft, white, cuddly looking sheep. And then I rounded a corner where a sign warned I would get the best view of Akaroa so I was prepared to stop, but I wasn’t prepared for the postcard view I saw enfolding below me. Really picturesque and worth the hair raising drive.

I made my way down into this beauty of a harbor town and found a parking place and saw a little church and went over and, praise God, it’s catholic. Finally! I haven’t been in one in 8 weeks. It’s a sweet looking, small, old wooden church built in 1863 called St Patrick’s, after my son, of course. I walk up the little lane not expecting to find it open, but it is. I step inside and savor the sweet quiet and feel of coming home. I sit in old wooden pews with wooden kneelers and say a few prayers for family, friends and travelers.  I leave a small donation in thanksgiving for having found this spiritual oasis in my travels and drive down to the dock to find the catamaran for my tour of the bay.

I booked a two hour boat tour as this bay has the famous and endangered Hector’s dolphins, the smallest dolphin species-- about four feet long. The bay also is home to the little blue penguin, the smallest penguin in the world, fur seals, salmon farms and many types of sea birds. The harbor itself is encircled by cliffs and mountains, a volcano and many, many caves formed over the ages. The water is an incredible blue that has something to do with the minerals that have sedimented into it. The landscape from the boat was just breathtaking. I could see right away why the Lord of the Rings was filmed on this Island. At one point I saw a rather odd formation and I wasn’t even thinking of LOR and my first thought was ‘here comes Golum scrabbling down the mountain.’ These mountains were colorful. They had the fresh green of new spring growth, slashes of deep, deep almost black green of a pine growth, red and brown jutting rock with specks of white sheep clinging along the sides, and on the tops, like a giant shaker had sprinkled saffron in spots, were orange yellow flowers sprouting happily in the heights. We boated along and saw seals asleep in the rocks, several types of birds, our skipper saw the penguins, but I missed them and finally at the mouth of the bay we spotted the dolphins. In they came speeding in sets of two to four spreading out then coming together, circling about, diving under and rising and spouting out. Fantastic. More than we could count and it seemed as if they came just to put a show on for us.

After the cruise I did a little shopping, then had coffee and fries on the waterfront with pesky seagulls who kept trying to sit at my table with me and eat my food. Then Mrs. Tomtom directed me home. This time I could drive much faster over the mountain because I was so much more experienced. The mountains were again breathtaking. By now some clouds were settled in spots like layers of cotton candy nestled in crooks of certain peaks and they never moved. The sun shone in parts of the sky, but these layers of cotton candy were stuck in place above certain peaks like a giant child had licked that candy and stuck it there on purpose. Mesmerizing – which I know is not really good when you’re driving those roads with people breathing down your neck.         

Back at the B&B Pam and Denis had invited me to join them for stir fry dinner. This is very kind of them and not really part of the package. I think they feel bad for me eating my other meals alone. Pam has also done my laundry for me. It’s going to be hard to leave tomorrow. This has been a wonderful welcome to NZ and I have enjoyed staying in this beautiful home. But it is on toward Lake Tekapo and Mt. Cook, NZ’s highest mountain. Gotta love those mountain roads!