OWZAT!! And the kindness of strangers

Challenge fulfilled - here's me and my new mate Steve Harmison! I think you owe me at least a steak pie and chips at the Griffin, and maybe even a Smirnoff Ice, Steve, - after all, he is not just ANY old England cricketer, I think I chose my 'victim' well!
This last ten days has been a less strenuous period. The first couple of days were spent in the Catlins, which is a remote area in the deep south of the South Island - no mobile phone network or internet, just deserted beaches, bush, native wildlife and small dwellings. I stayed with a German girl in a cottage which should have housed 6 backpackers, in an idyllic hilltop spot. There was a small shop two kilometres down a steep hillside, but otherwise just farming. So peaceful; bliss! We had been preceeded there by a group of campers, 30 Contra dancers from the USA. The cottage owner went to a lot of trouble to find out their onward schedule for me!
I took a walk here through the bush - clambering over huge tree roots and pools of mud - thank goodness for the orange markers to point the way - essential for an easily lost girlie like me... The path eventually opened out onto a beach from paradise - not a soul on it, no sound except the waves breaking and the birds singing... like a dream. Aaaaaa...
I wish now that I'd stayed longer, but then things would have turned out differently, and I've had such a great week that I can't harbour great regret.
My driver (Ian) through the Catlins was the usual knowledgeable, helpful type to which I've become accustomed. He informed me (how did I not know this?) that the song "Cecilia" was an allegory. Cecilia being the patron saint of music, Paul Simon was singing about the fickle nature of the music business... so you see, it's not about me going round breaking people's hearts after all!!! When I asked Ian if we were going to stop off at the McLean Falls, which I'd heard were beautiful, he changed his arrangements and took the whole busload of people there!! I was relieved to find that they were indeed worth the trip;
we arrived 90 minutes late into Dunedin!
This is a very Scottish city, lots of Scottish road names, and haggis on offer; all the schoolgirls wear kilts. The boarders look like something out of the thirties - their kilts reach to below their knees. Very smart, but hot in the current temperatures of late twenties centigrade!
Continuing the theme of kindness of strangers, I had a lovely experience on Sunday. I had taken a taxi to change lodgings - I've moved to a quiet hostel with my own room for the princely sum of $35 per night (about 14 pounds) as opposed to the normal $20-$25 for a bunk. This hostel is up a steep hill, and so justified a short taxi ride ($6.10). After unpacking I went out to explore, and was greeted by the same taxi driver (Graeme) who offered me a free sightseeing tour of the city. Long story short, (so much to tell, I could ramble on for pages) he spent 90 minutes with me, driving me around the sights, up to lookouts, showed me university buildings, churches, best places to eat, and finally the botanical gardens with a lesson in botany thrown in. No catch at all; he said it was enough that I'd enjoyed it and said 'thank you'. What a lovely thing to do!
Later in the day, I went back to the botanical gardens. I always feel very close to my mother at these places - she loved, and was knowledgeable about, flowers; I imagined her here when she and my father visited NZ in 1985. I then wandered up the 'Steepest street in the world', Baldwin Street, and chatted to a mad Dunedin resident, who RUNS up and down it 30 times a day (he says). Once again, very proud of New Zealand and his city in particular.
That evening I followed up the lead given me by my landlady in the Catlins, and caught up with the Contra dancers. They were a group from all over the States, visiting folk dance groups in New Zealand. I was the ethnic minority for the evening, but everyone made me most welcome. After 4 months away from ceilidhs it was a delight to be swung around by expert dancers; I was feted by both Americans and Kiwis, and didn't sit out a single dance... This led to drinks later in a local bar for gentle jazz with local kiwis, and an invitation to join the Contra group again on the Monday for their last 'gig', which I took up and again had a wonderful evening of dance. What serendipity - if I hadn't stayed in the same backpackers in the Catlins...
My other treat in Dunedin has been a trip out onto the Otago Peninsula on a wildlife tour. This was very well run - a small group led by a very knowledgeable guide. We went first to see albatross flying, and were lucky enough to see two very close by. Their wingspan was over three metres - smooth fliers! Then on to a beach area, where we saw yellow-eyed penguins coming in from the sea to feed their chicks. These are very rare, an endangered species. Forget 'Happy Feet' - these are not gregarious - you see them only one at a time or in couples at most, and they hide their nests from each other. What a treat to see them close up. Then we came across some sealions. These usually stay segregated, males on one beach, females on another except in the mating season. We were fortunate enough to see a female on the male-dominated beach. We had to be very careful not to walk between them, as they can move very fast and cause injury. Then to top it off, we saw a huge colony of fur seals on the rocks - the babies playing, splashing in and out of the water. Even for a non-naturalist like me, it was a fantastic experience, seeing some creatures unique to this area.
After this, I have spent two days very restfully after completing the challenge that had been set. England are playing two pre-test invitation matches here, and I have enjoyed sitting in the sunshine for seven hours each day, listening to that wonderful sound of leather on willow; gentle - or even genteel - applause; and the tactical discussions of spectators, both English and Kiwi. This is a small ground, entry $10, with a grandstand holding about 500 and patches of grass where people set up their chairs and picnics. Lovely lovely. England won the two dayer easily, by the way. The three dayer starting tomorrow will include more NZ internationals, I understand, so may be more of a stretch. I haven't decided whether to stay in Dunedin for the whole match yet.
Tonight I'm off to another ceroc class - by chance, a couple sitting near me at the cricket yesterday are ceroc-ers, so I got all the local gen, inbetween overs of course!
All in all, another eventful week, and a sociable one. So many kind and interesting people; so much to learn about a land different enough that it could be on a different planet, and yet similar in culture...

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The 'Stewart Island Experience'

Here I am, as far south as I'm ever likely to travel, and this is the welcome I get...!
I thought this was going to be a quiet week, but it's been really quite eventful, all through unexpected happenings, which I suppose is what this uncharted tour is all about. I started the week in Queenstown, where I last caught up with you I think, and did one of my "I'll just take a quick stroll" walks, ending up tramping to the top of the cable car ride, from whence comes the second photo, of Q'town and the Remarkables (winter skiing). I felt the climb was exciting enough, and didn't join the intrepid bungy-jumpers and paraglider(er)s leaping off the hill. It was an exhilarating climb, and the view as you can see was worth the effort.
I then took my aching legs to a ceroc class that evening. On a smaller scale than I'm used to, and I found the style slightly different, but I was able to have a go, with people being very friendly and local. This led to an invitation to join a group of them at a dinner and cabaret the following evening, the highlight being three young men in DJs, calling themselves 'The Rat Pack', singing standards to a backing track. I found it pretty dire, but everyone around me seemed to enjoy it, so I tapped my foot and smiled enthusiastically. It was a pleasant evening despite the 'entertainment', as I chatted to some locals and had a couple of dances, along with a good dinner.
On to Invercargill next. Not sure what to say about this town, except that it has some nice parks, and some factory areas that are not so appealing. It seems like the most functional place I've been to - let's just say that if I emigrated to New Zealand this is not the town I'd choose to settle in. But each to their own...
My next destination was Stewart Island, just off the south coast of the South Island. I stopped off for a night in Bluff, the ferry town. 'Why would you want to do that?' I've been asked, and indeed it doesn't have much to recommend it - I blinked and missed the main street, and was advised not to spend the evening in the local bar - it did look a bit dodgy. BUT, there were a couple of really nice walks within reach, so I enjoyed my short stay. I was kept awake during the night by the wind howling around the hostel, which didn't bode well for the ferry crossing. I was right to be apprehensive - it turned out to be the worst crossing they have had for months - we were all given green fluorescent earplugs along with our sickbags - it was quite comical really - 100 people with green ears, passing bags to and fro to the two stewards, who did a fantastic job. I discovered to my releief that my queasiness on the fishing trip must have been a one-off, as I actually enjoyed the ferry trip, and now have no need to spend money on a jet-boat ride - this was way more exciting!
The weather was pretty dull on arrival in Stewart Island, so I set off for another of my 'little strolls'. Five hours later... ! As the day progressed and the sun appeared, more little islands appeared out of the mist, and my clifftop walk was beautiful. Hardly a soul there, completely deserted beaches. No ice cream though :-(
Stewart Island is much bigger than I thought, and a trampers' paradise. One main town - Oban - and most of the rest undeveloped. The main track is a 12-day effort, carrying all your needs except water on your back, staying in communal huts, or tents. I passed on this - I really need a sherpa. Must remember next time to pack one...
My second day on the island I set off actually prepared for a longish walk, taking supplies of food and drink, and a vague map of sorts. I stuck to the cliffwalks and thus managed not to get too lost, although I did manage to walk across a golf course, not noticing the 'Danger - keep out' sign until I was much too far up a steep hill to think of turning back. (Was the danger the nearby cliff edge or the golfers I'd irritated? Who knows - luckily I didn't find out). I stopped for lunch and invested a corned beef sandwich in luring a friendly fellow Brit into my company for the rest of the day. We shared a sense of humour and enjoyed winding up another couple we met on the track by confusing them totally about the length of our friendship. They took it in good part, though, so a good time was had by all...
I'm back in Invercargill now, and have just booked the next few days' travel. What new adventures will befall me? Who will I meet along the way? Watch this space...

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Milford Sounds good to me...

These pictures aren't of Milford Sound at all, but couldn't resist the tag, sorry... more of Milford later.
Since I last blogged I've had a lovely few days alternating good walks with more restful occupations. I headed off from Franz Josef towards Queenstown, but decided to jump off the bus and stay in Wanaka - a town beside an eponymous huge lake. What a great place - all the amenities of Queenstown, but much less commercialised. I did a few really nice walks there - the first being the one pictured. It took nearly three hours of continuous uphill walking in full overhead sunshine with many drink-and-breathing stops along the way before I emerged at the peak of Mt Roy. Well worthwhile, though; I wish you could see the full panoramic view. More breathtaking than the climb ...!
A couple of days later I took a shuttle bus 50kms - 30 of it on unsealed road (VERY bumpy, with the odd hazard of whole herds of sheep and cattle on the road), to Rob Roy Glacier Track. This was a bit less hard work, but an interesting climb among warnings of possible rockfalls, ending in a fabulous meadow just below the glacier, surrounded by peaks with waterfalls - indescribably beautiful. I can't think of anywhere I've enjoyed a picnic more (helped by the company of a divorced Brit-in-exile with whom I chatted, but, darn it, didn't get the address of his pad overlooking Auckland harbour...). Some you lose...
I'm in Queenstown now, which is "The Adventure Capital of the World". It is not large - 20,000 residents; but is totally focused on adrenalin. The whole of New Zealand is geared up for tourists, and does it well; everywhere you go there are i-sites, where you can get any information and help that you could possibly think of; there are backpackers' hostels in every town, however small. The only omissions, which may be deliberate to keep its charm, are ice-cream stalls at the halfway point of most of my walks. I look in vain for a big "M" for a McFlurry, but have to make do with my sandwich, banana, apple and water. I'm becoming very healthy. (My breakfast this morning of french toast, bacon, kiwi fruit and lashings of maple syrup must remain a secret between you and me.)
Every other shop in Queenstown is a company offering one of 170 activities on offer here - jetboating, paragliding, skydiving, rafting, white water surfing, and so on. Not forgetting the one invented here in the 80s - bungy jumping. I went to the bridge where it all started. The idea came from a tribal manhood ritual - I saw a video of naked pacific islanders jumping off a high tower made of branches - but they landed in the dirt below - think A.J.Hackett got it right when he substituted water for the 'landing'. I wasn't tempted to try it - luckily I have a doctor's note with me, thanks Dr Riley...!!
And so, on to what is the highlight of NZ for many people. A trip to Milford Sound. If you want to walk the track, you have to book well in advance - it entails 4 days' walking, staying in a hut, carrying all your gear including food and cooking utensils. February is so popular that you have to book now if you want to walk it in Feb 2010. I decided that I'm happy doing the day walks I can easily (and more cheaply) access, so I opted for a day trip to the Sound. This meant a very long drive - it's about 60kms as the crow flies from Queenstown to Milford, but by road it is 300kms. The journey was made very interesting by the coach driver - he was so knowledgable and enthusiastic, interspersing tales of the history of the region (Fiordland National Park), and how they keep it natural, with personal tales of his fishing and hunting trips. He talked for two hours without a break, all while negotiating some very narrow, twisting roads. All the drivers have seemed to be highly educated people, some with political views they love to get over to their captive audience.
On arrival at the Sound, we boarded a boat and had a lovely cruise through the fiords - it was a misty rainy day (7 metres of rain on average per year there), which made it very mystical and eerie. We spotted some fur seals on the rocks, and many of the native and migratory birds. An enchanting place which really deserves more time, but is very remote and therefore expensive for the budget traveller. On the list for a return visit sometime..
So now, after an overnight stop in Te Anau on the way back, I'm in Queenstown again. I've done some machine clothes-washing (you can't believe the luxury of almost-clean clothes; everything seems to have a constant film of dirt - a combination of suntan lotion, dust from walking tracks and sweat, which all seem immovable. Maybe I need some CILLIT BANG, what d'you think, Alex? - hmmmmmm).
Off to Southland next - Invercargill, Stewart Island and the Catlins. Trying to time my stay in Dunedin to coincide with the English cricket - may be there too early. But I have been set a challenge (thanks, Stephen) which I'll tell you about if I succeed with it, otherwise it's our secret. (Don't worry, I'm not going to streak).
Hasta la blogista!

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The Old Man is Snoring...

Hi Gang, I'm in Franz Josef - on the west coast of the South Island of NZ, and it's hissing down with rain. This is the base for glacier exploration, but it's really not the weather for it, so I compromised this morning and walked to the nearest access point to the 'terminal' (I know the jargon!) of the glacier. It obligingly stopped raining while a friendly passer-by from Holmfirth (!) took my picture. I'd been trying to pluck up the courage, (still scared of being on slippery ice, although I know it's safe with guides and crampons), especially with Andrew's comments to spur me on, to do the full-day glacier hike, but the weather has let me off. Apparently it's here to stay for a few days, so I shall move on, with the proviso that I may come back if time and funds permit. Phew, close call!
The first picture obviously shows me on the Trans Alpine railway journey - too grand to be called just a train trip! It really was 'awesome' - journeying through the Canterbury Plains - vast river valleys - through to snow-capped mountains. I spent most of the four hour journey on the observation deck - sounds as though it should be on top of the train, somehow, but of course isn't (makes me think of that ludicrous scene in the Channel Tunnel with Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible 1).
I'd like to show you that I AM acquiring a tan - despite plastering on the factor 30 most days - but whenever I am in t-shirt and shorts I'm busy walking to remote spots where no one else seems to go. I've tried taking my own picture, but I've always suffered from short arms, and only get my ugly mug and no scenery...
I had a great 4 days in Greymouth, having planned to stay only 2. It's not a 'wow' place - not much there at all, just a town by the sea on the way to somewhere else. But I found a really nice hostel - small, friendly, clean, light, bottom bunk (I seem to fall off the ladder every morning when I'm in a top one - my legs seize up overnight and have to loosen up gradually. Anno Domini?) Also free use of bikes. So I used one (I'm getting quite good at it, and my bum's getting toughened up to it. Is that a good thing? Answers on a postcard...) and cycled 8km one day to the start of a coastal walk; walked another 8 kms via a wooded path interspersed with views over rocky outcrops where seals bask in the sun (really, I'm not making this up, it's magic!), and stopped in a deserted bay with one hotel near the beach. This had one other customer, and a barlady who looked like she was a left-over from the 1860s gold rush. I half expected her to chew baccy and spit... but she was friendly and poured me my diet coke, noticed it was flat and gave it to me for free (do I look so impoverished?). They only get customers at night usually, she told me. I guess she stands at the bar all day because there's nothing else to do? It's such a far cry from Stockport - the difference in our lifestyles is immense! (Oh, then I walked and cycled back - wouldn't like you not to realise how far I went!) I also realised that I don't mind at all returning the same way - it always looks different on the way back, from another perspective, and I always spot things I missed on the way out.
The next day I cycled even further (I know it's peanuts to you hardened cyclists back there, but it's a big distance to me...) to an old gold mining town. This was much more interesting than I expected, enlivened by chats from local enthusiasts - one insisted on explaining to me every nut and bolt of the cart he was restoring, but he was so enthusiastic I got carried along with him. I also had some personal attention from a guy who insisted on showing me how to adjust my bike to the correct height - it was ten times easier after that. His kids kept shouting 'C'mon Dad, we'll miss the steam train!' but he insisted on staying until he was sure my bike was safe and efficient, and that my helmet was fitted properly. What a nice man - typical of the New Zealanders I've met so far. They seem to 'go the extra mile' if you'll pardon the expression. If I ask where I can book something, they immediately grab the phone and do it for me. They are so helpful and friendly, and proud of their country.

Now, vegetarians look away for a paragraph...
I tried a new delicacy yesterday - possum pie. It was delicious - a cross between chicken, turkey and rabbit - most like brown turkey meat really. I was the only one on the bus to try it - the others were too squeamish. They seem ok eating chicken, though, and little lambs...???

I'm typing this on a red bus full of pcs, looking out of the window at the rain. On to Wanaka tomorrow - not sure what awaits me - how exciting! - it's a town not much smaller than Queenstown, I'm told, which is just up the road; but less frantic. Queenstown is the adrenaline capital, party, party. That'll be my next stop!
I'm beginning to feel the urge to get a single room for a night or two. A bit fed up with creeping around so as not to wake people, then being woken myself at odd hours of the night or morning. Just like an endless Rochester morris weekend really, without the evil varieties of whisky, calvados, port, brandy and stilton on offer... But as a dorm bed is $20-25 a night, and a single room in a B&B in the region of $120 I'll have to be desperate...

Hope you're all ok, working hard, and coming up with ideas as to how I can earn a living when I get home - I'll have to start thinking about that sometime, but if you do it for me I can just relax. Oh, that's what I AM doing, sorry! Cheers for now!

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