The Rest Of The South Island

I've been back home on Long Island for more than a month now, yet the end of my journey remains unresolved here on the blog.  I apologize, but better late than never, right?


After Te Anau I traveled north to Fox and Franz Josef Glaciers.  Three days of waiting out the bad weather payed off when Friday, April 14th proved to be a perfectly sunny day, and Marcus came up from Wanaka to join me on my glacier tour adventure.  The Fox and Franz Josef glaciers are quite unique in that while most glaciers worldwide have been retreating (due to global warming and what have you) these glaciers still advance thanks to the heavy rainfall in the area.  This heavy rainfall also accounts for the existence of the rainforest nearby.  That's right: a rainforest and a glacier cohabitating, crazy.  After getting our gear (coat, wools socks, and crampons!) we set off to begin our glacier walk.  Upon the ice, sporting only a t-shirt and shorts, I took to jumping/climbing through/over ice cliffs/valleys/caves.  After six hours of glacier exploration, just before descending back to the base, our guide found a newly formed ice cave (the glacier moves so much that the face of it changes from week to week), through which I was the first customer to pass.  It was truly an epic experience and one I won't readily forget.

I set out with Marcus the next day (17th), due north in his Subaru Legacy.  We stopped at the Pancake Rocks in Punakaiki, getting there just at high tide, when the waves were at their highest and the splashing and crashing were at their most spectacular.  An unexpected stop along the way was at Buller Gorge, where we walked across New Zealand's longest suspended bridge.  All I have to say is that Indiana Jones and that little kid are baller, cause that shit is scary.  Finally, we arrived in Motueka, a little hippie town where we met up with Petrus (see Rumble In Rotorua) and another backpacker from his hostel, Anat from Israel.  The next day, we drove north with her and her friend Yael to their hostel in Takaka.  At said hostel, we suffered a truly moral dilemma.  A mouse had been caught in a mouse trap while we were making dinner, but instead of killing the mouse swiftly, the trap managed to merely break the mouse's tiny back, leaving it to squeal and writhe in pain.  After quite a bit of deliberation, we decided it was best to put the mouse out of its misery, though we were unsure how to do so.  Being the only one willing to, Marcus chose to drown the mouse.  A truly tragic event that left us feeling quite somber.  So we decided to go to the Mussel Inn (literally the only other establishment in the area) to hear some live music.

At the bar, a young man named Jaime Regan performed, followed by The Eastern, a New Zealand folk/country band that opened for Fleetwood Mac for the New Zealand show on their international tour.  With all the stomping of feet, the occasional "Yee haw", and the inevitable awkward dancers, it was hard not to have a good time, though I found one moment particularly entertaining and worth mentioning.  The lead singer got the crowd to whistle a tune after him during a song (a feat in it of itself).  After about the third round of whistling, out of no where, a random older gentleman in the audience pulled out a flute-like instrument, which he seemed to pull out as swiftly and non-chalantly as Ron Burgandy during his jazz flute performance in Anchorman.  His flute-playing skills were so impressive that the lead singer said, "Wait, wait, wait.  Everyone else stop, no more whistling.  You.  You with the flute.  Just you.  Go."  Needless to say, he rocked out... hard, much to everyone's enjoyment.  All in all, it was quite an interesting night.


After a brief trip to Collingwood (on the Golden Bay) and Wainui Falls, we reached Totranui, part of the Abel Tasman National Park.  We decided to walk this part as we would be kayaking the remainder of the park's coastline the next day.  Besides the beautiful beaches, the crystal clear water, and the stunning sunset, we found two playful seal pups just hanging out on the beach!  They were fun.  You know what else was fun?  My two day kayaking adventure.  We began with a "short" 90 minute tutorial kayaking on the open water, after which we were dropped off via speed boat at the Onetahuti camp.  We set out as soon as we could for Tonga Island in the Marine Reserve, where we found a huge colony of seals, one of whom took a liking to our kayak and followed us around a bit.  That night we set up camp in Anchorage Bay and started a fire to cook our dinner (and to keep warm) with two Aussie girls and a kid from Switzerland.  

We started some beef with a mother who asked us to move our fire because the smoke was getting into her tent.  A couple of things to note here: (1) there were two CLEARLY designated areas for building a campfire, one of which this genius decided to set up her camp next to, (2) she wanted us to MOVE A FIRE.  Later that night, the five of us were still sitting around the campfire when we heard the same woman asking us to stop being so loud because she and her kids were trying to sleep (keep in mind, she was YELLING this from her tent, I think she might have woken up the whole campsite).  Now, I could see why she would be mad if we were drinking beers, being obnoxious and rowdy, shouting obscenities, however, that was not the case.  In fact, we had been discussing various global issues such as our human effect on the environment, which country was best at sustainability, and of course, how much we like Obama.  It was an odd feeling to be yelled at for having an intellectually stimulating conversation, then again, this was the same woman who asked, "Well, can't you move the fire?"

The next day we set out early, as we still had quite a ways to go.  The coast of the Abel Tasman National Park is simply stunning, with jagged edged rocks jutting out into crystal clear blue water, accompanied by golden sandy shores.  It was a magnificent place and I had a fantastic time (and a great workout from all that paddling).  Sadly, Marcus and I parted ways at our next stop in Nelson.  I had completed all I sought out to do on the South Island in the three weeks I spent there and was ready to head back north.  Traveling with Marcus turned out to be quite a treat, even the long car rides, during which we learned much about our differing cultures.  I was also able to save some cash using his tent and sleeping on the side of the road rather than in hostels, which, although cold, was quite nice.

Te Anau: A Tramper’s Delight

Te Anau is probably as close as I will ever get to the South Pole.  Positioned at 45°25 S latitude, there isn’t much to the town besides that it happens to be the starting point for many of New Zealand's Great Walks, such as the world famous Milford Track, the Routeburn Track, and the Kepler Track.  Each walk takes anywhere between two and four days to complete, so with only a day to explore, I chose to do a one-day hike of the Kepler Track for free.  The man at the info desk did inform me that I could run the entire 60km of the Kepler Track (which offers a 1000+ meter climb in its first portion) in one day, as the world record holder did it in just 4 hours 37 minutes and 41 seconds.  Fortunately for that guy, I didn't feel like breaking any records that day.

I began my journey at precisely 8:42am on a cloudy and windy day: perfect tramping weather.  The forest was full of all kinds of native bush, such as the silver fern, which, although I have seen many times before, only just realized is the tree from which the New Zealand symbol is derived from.  It was fairly quiet most of the way, besides the crashing of waves in the bay and the groaning of the trees in the wind.  I found that the latter was important to take note of, since landfalls are quite common on the track.  I saw evidence of two landfalls on the way up and a new third one on the way down, which I luckily wasn't present for. 

At 10:37am, I reached the finished the initial lakeside walk and reached the beginning of the steep climb to the top of Mt. Luxmore.  The signpost there read: "Luxmore Hut: 4.30 hr.  Track times can be reduced by half for fit trampers in good weather."  Being an obviously fit tramper, I decided that I'd like to try and cut that time in half.  Not having to carry camping equipment and three days worth of food allowed me to walk fairly briskly and I stopped scarcely, only for snacks and photos.  About an hour in, due to the fatigue mixed with the burning sensation in my quads, I began to envision the most gloriously comfortable places to sit down and rest on things that any normal person would avoid sitting on at all costs, such as jagged, moss-covered rocks.  Forcing these images out of my mind, I staggered on.

At 12:08pm, I saw the light at the end of the tunnel.  I had made it out of the thick forest and found myself surrounded by a spectacular panorama of mountains.  I all but forgot about how tired I was and reveled in the beauty around me, taking copious amounts of photos.  I reached Luxmore Hut at 12:32pm, having successfully completed the indicated "4.30 hr" climb in just under two hours.  After spending about an hour on the top taking pictures, enjoying a much needed lunch, talking with Amanda on the phone, and exploring the Luxmore cave (though I barely step foot in it, not having a torch to light my way) I began my decent, which was easy enough as gravity did its work and allowed me to clamor and clunk to the bottom lifelessly.  With about an hour and a half left of flat land walking, I found little motivation besides the gray storm clouds chasing behind me and the juicy porterhouse steak I bought the night before, knowing I would need a reason not to lay down and sleep in the forest after what turned out to be an 8 hour walk.  It was well worth the journey, and the steak was scrumtrulescent.

more pictures here

It's A Beautiful Life

I set off early in the morn for Fiordland National Park; nursing my red wine induced headache with some much needed water.  The coach bus ride, operated by a middle-aged man with a seemingly endless knowledge of the park, took us from Queenstown, through Te Anau (where we stopped for a short visit to a bird wildlife park), and into the park itself.  Upon entering the park, which covers some 1.2 million hectares and averages around seven meters of rainfall annually, we stopped at numerous points for photo opportunities and short explorations.  Although we stopped at choice spots, it soon dawned upon me that having my own mode of transportation would have been ideal, allowing me to stop and admire wherever I please.  What sorrow, for this was not so, and I made due with what was given to me.

We stopped often to admire the mountainous terrain of the national park, but of the many locations for which we pulled over, I found two more than noteworthy.  After some inspection (and guidance from our keen driver) of what seemed to be nothing more than a simple babbling brook, we found that the water was, in fact, pure glacier water fed from the mountains high above.  After indulging in a few quick gulps, I quickly emptied the dirty tap water from my bottle and filled it with this refreshing alpine water.  Another sweet as spot was called The Chasm: a place where rushing water has cut through some rocks, making for a spectacular cavernous waterfall.  I ventured off the appropriated track with Jaime, a kid from my hostel, to explore the Chasm from a closer vantage point, which paid off with this swell photo (left).  At the bottom of the falls, we could see people gathered around a pool that was formed around jagged rocks, from which one could jump off of and into the pool.  Here is where I felt the burden of not having my own vehicle, returning to the coach bus in dismay after not being able to partake.  Another such instance occurred when we gazed longingly from the window of our bus as we watched others walk up to and inspect the remains of a glacier from an avalanche that occurred over a year ago (right).

After almost five hours on and off the coach bus, we made it to the famous Milford Sound.  Here, we were taken on a 1.5 hour boat cruise circuit through the fjord (passing gushing waterfalls and monstrous rock faces) and out to where the waters emptied into the Tasman Sea (which looked as if it could be the end of the earth, picture on left) before turning around.  Of all the sights, it is Mitre Peak that steals the show, rising a staggering 1695m above the water.  In most photos, it is capped with quite a bit of snow, but with it being the beginning of autumn and a perfectly sunny day, said snow was not present.  However, as it was late in the day and the sun was low, I stole some shots of the peak as the rays of sunlight struggled to reach around its girth.

There is a trade off of the Milford Sound when it comes to the weather, as I discussed with some of the fellow backpackers on our boat.  On a sunny day like the one we had, you can see the top of the mountains quite clearly, though the waterfalls are scarce besides the two or three permanent ones.  On a rainy day, we were told that being able to see the tops of the mountains is not likely, but the lack of a view is made up for by what can be hundreds of waterfalls gushing down from all sides.  Although we did not get to experience such an alluring sight, our small vessel took advantage of its size and placed us directly under one of the permanent waterfalls.  "It's not too often you can say that you stood beneath a glacier-fed waterfall."  How right you are, Mr. Boat Driver.  

And what would a day in New Zealand be without any marine life sightings?  A few fur seals could be seen lounging on some rocks, basking in the sunlight, but even more exciting was the sighting of a group of bottlenose dolphins, although it was only for a few seconds; for we learned that, apparently, when they are swimming along the rocks as they were, it means they are sleeping.  They turn their brains halfway off so that they continue to swim, using the mountain as a guide, and popping up only occasionally for air.  Sweet as.

Alas, my words alone do not do justice to the majestic and elegant Milford Sound and surrounding Fiordland National Park, nor do my photos embody the full magnificence and splendor of it all.  It's so rare these days that such natural beauty can remain practically untouched by our dirty hands (now I feel bad about the glacier water), but the park does as best a job as it can to retain that "natural" appeal while allowing us the opportunity to look upon it with our own eyes, which is as much as one can hope for in our exceedingly commercialized world.

entrance to Milford Sound                                                            supporting some commercialization of my own

global warming might say differently... or a giant asteroid

Wanna Whole Lotta Cheese

Queenstown, the adventure captial of New Zealand.  Situated at the base of and surrounded by more mountains than one can shake a stick at (always wanted to use that expression), this busy little town was full of energy.  Every other shop invited you to skydive, bungy, canyon swing, go jet boating, paraglide, go canyoning, etc.  Having already done skydiving and bungy in Taupo, I decided to conquer the next most extraordinary thing I could find: The Big Al burger from the famous Fergburger.  "What's on a Big Al?" you might ask.  "Al delivers a double serving of prime New Zealand beef (1/2 lb), lashings of bacon, a whole lotta cheese, 2 eggs, beetroot, lettuce, tomato, red onion, relish & a big wad of aioli."  They should have just said, "All you could ever want and more."


After meeting a young gentleman from Germany (Marcus), he graciously invited me to drive with him to journey outside of Queenstown in hopes of finding a few locations where they filmed scenes from Lord Of The Rings.  Like previous ventures, we turned up with nothing, but we did happen upon the Wakatipu Basin and the majestic reflections of the surrounding mountains, depicted here.

Back in town, I explored Queenstown Gardens, where one could find a skate park & bowling club, two completely opposite pastimes that come standard in every New Zealand town.  However, a bit more on the obscure side, I happened upon a disc golf course (Vassar frisbee, what what) which was pretty darn cool.  At night, I took to gazing at the stars from a top one of the many hills around town and could successfully make out the Southern Cross, along with three shooting stars.  On my last night, I indulged a bit differently.  After a frantic and stressful day of decision-making, I bought myself a bottle of red wine to relax and unwind with.  Sitting down in the common room of the hostel, I conversed with my peers about all things important, such as Simon Cowell's opinions of performances on American Idol and how they relate to the general perception of the performance.  I ventured out to see the Queenstown nightlife, which was quite lively.  I chose the Dux de Lux bar, considering I was told I had to try their original brewed alcoholic ginger beer called Ginger Tom.  I enjoyed said beverage while watching some cover band play.  It was good times and was a soothing night cap to my adventurous days in Queenstown.

Dun, Dunedin: Rare Wildlife and Frigid Weather

I caught a bus to Dunedin, a city a bit further south than Christchurch, which is said to have a Scottish feel to it, though I wouldn't really know.  The city itself has a lot to offer, though I failed to indulge in it all (more on that later).  I found plenty to do with my time there, though.  At the center of town is the Octagon (refrain from making Anchorman reference), where the Info Site, Library, Cathedral, Public Art Gallery, and various bars and shops can be found.  There were quite a few pieces in the art gallery that I enjoyed, though I was forbidden from capturing on camera.  I'll list the ones I can find online at the bottom of this post if you're interested in seeing them.  Later, I grabbed a drink with some backpackers I met.  When talking about traveling, the Swiss girl put it best when she said, "Life is about experience.  Traveling is such a unique experience and it should be had by all."  Agreed.

While in Dunedin, I stayed in the spare room of fellow Couch Surfers, Miguel and Sophia.  This lovely young couple enjoys interacting with their surfers, and implemented a concept called "shared dinner" where they share their dinner with the hungry backpackers in return for their service of either helping prepare/make dinner or cleaning up afterward, which I was delighted to do.  They successfully made my second Couch Surfing experience quite enjoyable, and unknowingly helped me overcome my distaste for mushrooms.  The only caveat of staying in a house as opposed to a hostel, especially somewhere as frigid as Dunedin, is the lack of a central heating system.  In lieu of said heat, I was able to experience sleeping with a hot water bottle for the first time.  Although it sufficed in keeping me quite warm throughout the night, in the end, I'd prefer to not be able to see my breath when I go to sleep at night.

I dedicated one whole day to investigating the Otago Peninsula.  With the help of a Great Walks book and a bicycle from Sophia and Miguel, I ventured off in search of rare wildlife.  On my journey, I learned of all the joys and sorrows of being a cyclist on a main road.

Positives:

• squeezing freely through traffic, getting a good workout, being environmentally friendly, downhills  

Negatives

• uphills, the elements (not these kind), side of the road treasures (broken glass, roadkill, horse poop, garbage)

After only a short three hour bike ride (half of which was uphill) I arrived at Sandfly beach, where I hoped to spot the rare Hoiho, or Yellow-Eyed Penguin.  After decending from the sand dune to the beach, I found myself face to face with a playful Pakake (sea lion).  Seemingly unphased by my presence, I crept closer for a choice photo.  I soon found that this cunning seal had been toying with me all along, as he leapt up at me, causing me to stumble back, capturing the photo above in the process.  Well played, sir.  Having learned my lesson, I managed to get even closer to the bigger pakake and even had my photo taken with them (above on the left).  Finally, at the end of the beach, crouched in one of the constructed viewing huts, my patience was awarded as a lone hoiho came out from hiding.  Even with my tiny, cheap digital camera, I was able to grab this stunning photo:

It wasn't until my last night, shopping for peanut butter cookies at Pak 'N Save, when I found out about the Dunedin I didn't see.  I overheard a girl talking about going to New York, and although I chose not to creepily approach her about it, we crossed paths a little later and I felt as if fate were demanding that I ask about it.  It was then that she (Jade) told me of all the things I could have done, like take a tour of the Speights Brewery and try all their beer, or tour the Cadbury factory to see their chocolate waterfall, or at least go to Baldwin Street for free and see why it was recorded in the Guinness Book of World Records for being one of the steepest residential streets in the world.  Oh well, maybe next time, or perhaps vicariously through Mai during her later travels.

Heather Straka (The Asian) - This link describes the exhibit, but only shows one of the 50 paintings.  It was really cool to see because in the exhibit, it doesn't identify the original image.

Taryn Simon (An American Index of the Hidden and Unfamiliar) - "A collection of photographs that document the inaccessible places that exist below the surface of American identity."  The first link seems like a pretty comprehensive article.  Go to this link and go to the "Photographs" link at the bottom to see all of them.

- Headcase - Anne Noble (Ruby Room Number 10)

- Madeleine Child (Sweet As) - Sweet As is a playful installation featuring Child's signature range of oversized and deliciously rococo popcorn.

- Lifting My Mother for as long as I can by Campbell Patterson

A Whole New World

“Unbelievable sites…” of ham-that’s right: HAM. Jasmin would have never fell in love with Aladdin if he had shown her the workings of a deli. 

It’s about time I write about my current occupation.  Officially, I am a “deli assistant” working at “New World”, one of the four grocery chains in New Zealand.  Unofficially, I am a ham server working for an uppidity woman who is in dire need of some sedation pills. 

New World is the largest supermarket in Kerikeri and thus we sell phenomenal amounts of ham (sadly I used the word “we” in that sentence).  Shaved ham to Kiwis is the equivalent of turkey to people in the States. Every week, the New World deli department sells approximately 56 kilograms of ham, which is 123.2 pounds of ham.  I know that you are envisioning pigs but the truth is, shaved or sliced ham is only made of 40% oinker while the majority of the delicacy is an amalgamation of products including soy protein and the dreaded unknown. I will never eat this stuff but the Kiwis gobble it up, or pig it up.

I work 40 to 50 hours a week. The shifts run from 6am to 4pm and no, the extra two hours tacked on to the general prescription of eight are not overtime, they are added FUN.

Excuse my sarcasm, this job isn’t that bad and in fact, slicing meat and using the slicer is rather therapeutic. Like everything else in my life, I try to slice brawn, veal and pork loaf, tongue among others, as creatively as possible. I pack those shaved meats in trays attempting to make them look like little rosettes or waves- waves of chicken roll or rosettes of hot beef.  I’ve even named the slicers: Calvin and Oscar. I’ve also renamed an assortment of luncheon. Luncheon is the American bologna but I’m positive that when I was little and had bologna and cheese sandwiches, the meat wasn’t this unappetizing, or maybe I was blinded by the cheese.  Savory luncheon, which I have renamed “Festive Luncheon” is bologna with speckles of green “peas” and orange “carrots” added for your vitamin delight. Get your “protein” and vegetables all in one slice. Delicious?

In addition to the joy I receive from slicing meat, I even encounter the general crazies. I’ve been yelled at 3 times by customers, all of whom I’m sure forgot their meds of the day. The first woman: was a short rotund woman who yelled at me for giving her “scraps of shaved ham”.  “Shaved” implies “scrappy” so my only response was a gentle apology, a Mary Sunshine smile and an ocean of profanity spewing in my head.  The second person was a curmudgeon.  He rolls around in his automated scooter equipped with a towering orange flag.  Every time he visits New World, he asks if we have scallops.  No sir, the deli department does not serve seafood.  He called me “rude” because I asked him what he wanted before he knew.  Sorry folks, although I try, I am not a mind-reader. 

The third episode of psycho is my personal favorite:

Man: “Are the mini pork pies nice?”

Me: “I’m not sure, I’ve never had one but I’ll ask someone who has”

Man: “No I don’t want one then, if you’ve never had one. I don’t want anything”

Man storms off.

There must be an invisible sign on my “New World” hat that says, “If you are crazy- come talk to me”.

Luckily, most people are rather enjoyable. They want their 500 grams of shaved ham and their occasional treat of a small pottle of coleslaw and then they are on their way, content. They don’t realize what they are missing out on: Boar’s Head products and deli sliced cheese. The deli doesn’t slice cheese here. Instead, it is sold pre-packaged in 4 main varieties: Tasty, Mild, Colby and Edam.

The question that plagues my mind: isn’t all cheese “tasty”?

Easter In (Fittingly) Christchurch

Through a series of hectic events, I ended up traveling back north to Picton before turning around and going back down to Christchurch.  My initial impression of Picton being a mediocre town was pretty spot on, though there were two highlights worth mentioning: (1) a car show (you would have loved it, Dad) sporting some sweet American cars, (2) my room in the hostel called "Sardina" - a large room with beds packed into it like sardines - ideal for those who prefer a chorus of snoring backpackers.

Taking the train instead of a bus proved to be an intriguing experience with the seats being assigned and facing one another.  I was fortunate enough to sit next to a backpacker from Canada and an older couple from the UK with whom I chatted with for most of the ride.  I was also fortunate enough to get a call from Amanda, who graciously allowed each one of my friends from home to say hello while they were all together for Martina's birthday.  I chatted with each of them for a few minutes, touching on topics such as playing softball this summer, golden Chivas bottles (I'm holding you too that, Big Easy), revealing the future, and of course, the "Does the toilet flush the other way?" question.  Answer: toilets here don't swirl when the flush, they just go straight down.  It's been incredibly disappointing.

After arriving and meeting the people I would be staying with, they insisted that I have some of their dinner (which they continued to do each night I was there, so nice!) before we went to the cinema to see the movie Boy, a New Zealand film by Taika Waititi.  The movie was incredibly entertaining, enticing a wide array of emotions.  Boy's exaggerated description of his own life was both charming and tragic considering the events that take place.  I absolutely recommend checking it out (if you can figure out a way to).

I took to wandering during my time in Christchurch and what I found was pretty nice: a nice park full of rugby fields (Jon, you should probably live here), botanic gardens, quite a few public art galleries, outdoor markets, churches/cathedrals, a few really funny advertisements, a giant countdown clock for the Rugby World Cup in 2011 (did I mention you should live here Jon?).  A word of advice though: just because a woman in a cool looking mask tells you a puppet show for adults is worth $10, it doesn't actually mean that it is.  Trust me.  I took a bus to check out the coast and found myself drawing in the sand with little kids, using my artwork to try and inspire those walking out on the pier.  I also got to meet up with Eric from housekeeping, sharing a few vodka colas, stories about travels and life, and the like.  It was nice to see a familiar face.

In the spirit of putting my Agnostic views to the test (and because I didn't have much else to do) I decided to go to the St. James Anglican Church on the night of Easter Sunday.  I mean, I was in CHRISTCHURCH, how could I not go to church on Easter Sunday, right?  My desire to not stick out like a sore thumb was shot to shit when I realized I was one of only 16 people in the entire church.  The messy hair, dirty jeans, and Breezefest t-shirt probably didn't help the cause.  Seeing that conversation was inevitable, I decided to stay for tea and cake after the service rather than sprinting for the door.  Both the guitar guy and the priest conversed with me about where I was from, my travels, my future plans, and of course, my religious views.  I told them honestly that I grew up Catholic but haven't practiced for quite some time, and am in the process of searching for some sort of spiritual guidance.  The priest bid me farewell and hoped that in my search I would find the Lord.  Who knows what I'll find on this crazy journey.