It is a very odd feeling to be sitting in our empty apartment, with less than 13 hours before we fly out and move to the other side of the world.
Very odd.
Almost all of the furniture is gone, now. There are just a few pieces left that will be picked up by the Salvation Army later this morning.
Almost all of our possessions are gone, now. Some are in bins, stored away for the future; some have found new homes, both temporary and permanent; some have been discarded. There are just a few left, what we can take with us on the flight this evening.
Almost all of the last minute details have been handled. There are just a few left to be taken care of during actual last minutes.
Almost all of our goodbyes have been said. There are just a few more to say to Jen's family, whose home we are using as the staging area for our expedition.
And then, later this evening, after all of the furniture is gone, after the rest of our things are gone, after all of the last minute details are handled, after the last goodbyes are said, we will leave this world and enter the strange, arcane world of air travel.
On the other side lies adventure, excitement, strange accents, colorful money, excellent beer and left-side driving. What lies between, though, is always a bit of a roll of the dice.
Tune in next time to find out the answers to these burning questions: Will everything go smoothly? Will all of the electronic gear that I am bringing for work get me pulled out of the security line and taken to the "special" room? Will Jen's head pop from excitement when we land in Auckland? Can Northwest make air travel any less fun? Just how much of French Polynesia can one see in an hour, anyway?
Showing posts with label transit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label transit. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
Heavy Sigh
Alas, our adventure is coming to an end.
As I type this, Jen is trying to consolidate all of our stuff into the bags that we brought for the plane tomorrow.
As you may or may not know, we experienced a moment of horrendous stupidity when we booked the flights and our itinerary tomorrow (and possibly the next day, crossing the International Date Line always makes my brain explode) is thus:
We are in a very bitter sweet mood over our leaving NZ. The bitter part has to do partially with the prospect of returning to work on Monday and the inevitable down after something that has been looked forward to for so long as this trip.
There, is, however, also the realization that this trip has actually met all of our expectations and that we have been truly privileged to have been able to travel to this amazing land, see so many breathtaking examples of its natural beauty, and meet some of the people who make this place what it is.
It seems fitting, then, to close with this, a few lines written by Mr. Tolkien, whom the Kiwis have adopted as one of their own:
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
The Road goes ever on and on
Out from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
Let others follow it who can!
Let them a journey new begin,
But I at last with weary feet
Will turn towards the lighted inn,
My evening-rest and sleep to meet.
And with that, I must leave you, as we intend to celebrate our last night in Aotearoa.
Kia Ora.
As I type this, Jen is trying to consolidate all of our stuff into the bags that we brought for the plane tomorrow.
As you may or may not know, we experienced a moment of horrendous stupidity when we booked the flights and our itinerary tomorrow (and possibly the next day, crossing the International Date Line always makes my brain explode) is thus:
- Wake up and finish packing
- Check out of hotel and head to Auckland Airport
- Fly to Christchurch
- Get our bags and check into the flight to Auckland
- Fly to Auckland
- Fly to Los Angeles
- Get our bags, go through customs
- Fly to Detroit
We are in a very bitter sweet mood over our leaving NZ. The bitter part has to do partially with the prospect of returning to work on Monday and the inevitable down after something that has been looked forward to for so long as this trip.
There, is, however, also the realization that this trip has actually met all of our expectations and that we have been truly privileged to have been able to travel to this amazing land, see so many breathtaking examples of its natural beauty, and meet some of the people who make this place what it is.
It seems fitting, then, to close with this, a few lines written by Mr. Tolkien, whom the Kiwis have adopted as one of their own:
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
The Road goes ever on and on
Out from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
Let others follow it who can!
Let them a journey new begin,
But I at last with weary feet
Will turn towards the lighted inn,
My evening-rest and sleep to meet.
And with that, I must leave you, as we intend to celebrate our last night in Aotearoa.
Kia Ora.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
This post is brought to you by: Strife and Anguish
Today has not been a whole a lot of fun, but tomorrow is not today, so it will all work out in the end.
The train was not as cool as the hype suggested it would be: we somehow got put in the one car that did not have spacious seats (there was about as much room as in a coach class plane seat), but there was no real place to put carry-on bags (which we did not know when we were checking the other bags), so we got to spend four hours buried in our bags. The scenery was nice, when it was not obscured by clouds.
We were supposed to be greeted by a rental car company representative, but the train was a half hour early, so we had to cool our heels for a while until he showed up with the new rental car. When he did show up he informed us that the damage to the tire done when that curb attacked the car was not covered under the additional insurance that we purchased at no small amount per day. We are both rather confused by this as we thought that the insurance plan that we chose explicitly covered all damage to tires, wheels, windshields, and headlights. We will try to sort things out tomorrow when we drop this car off before jumping onto a plane to Rotorua.
Even getting an internet connection in the room tonight was a tortuous process. It would not work at all, but before we could get someone to try to fix it we first had to get the hotel to send someone to get the phone to work, as there was no dial tone and the network here is run by an off site company. Once the phone was working, I called the tech support line (it caused me actual physical pain to call tech support while on vacation) twice.
The first person I talked to I will refer to as "Skippy". Skippy was utterly useless and kept having me do things in Internet Explorer when the problem was that the computer could not get an IP address. A second call connected me with someone, Rodger, I think, who actually knew what he was about and had the problem fixed (a problem on their end, not mine) in a couple of minutes. Thank you Rodger (if that is your name).
As promised, here are some pictures of us on the glacier:
The train was not as cool as the hype suggested it would be: we somehow got put in the one car that did not have spacious seats (there was about as much room as in a coach class plane seat), but there was no real place to put carry-on bags (which we did not know when we were checking the other bags), so we got to spend four hours buried in our bags. The scenery was nice, when it was not obscured by clouds.
We were supposed to be greeted by a rental car company representative, but the train was a half hour early, so we had to cool our heels for a while until he showed up with the new rental car. When he did show up he informed us that the damage to the tire done when that curb attacked the car was not covered under the additional insurance that we purchased at no small amount per day. We are both rather confused by this as we thought that the insurance plan that we chose explicitly covered all damage to tires, wheels, windshields, and headlights. We will try to sort things out tomorrow when we drop this car off before jumping onto a plane to Rotorua.
Even getting an internet connection in the room tonight was a tortuous process. It would not work at all, but before we could get someone to try to fix it we first had to get the hotel to send someone to get the phone to work, as there was no dial tone and the network here is run by an off site company. Once the phone was working, I called the tech support line (it caused me actual physical pain to call tech support while on vacation) twice.
The first person I talked to I will refer to as "Skippy". Skippy was utterly useless and kept having me do things in Internet Explorer when the problem was that the computer could not get an IP address. A second call connected me with someone, Rodger, I think, who actually knew what he was about and had the problem fixed (a problem on their end, not mine) in a couple of minutes. Thank you Rodger (if that is your name).
As promised, here are some pictures of us on the glacier:
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
On to Queenstown!
Yesterday morning we decided to do one last short walk before getting on the road and heading for Queenstown. A quick look in the guide book indicated that there should be a 30 minute walk along Frasers Beach that should give us some nice views. So we loaded up the car and drove 20 minutes to what we thought was the start of the walk.
This, however, was no nice, wide, sandy beach like we found at Cannibal Bay. Oh no. This beach was all loose rocks ranging from golf ball sized on up to mid sized boulders. This may or may not seem like a big deal, unless you have ever tried to walk on loose stones. About an hour of hard hiking across loose stones, over fields of Technicolor algae seeping out of the rock, through packs of vicious dire opossums, and much ankle peril, we finally made it to our final destination: Pearl Harbor.
Pearl Harbor was a bit of a disappointment, what with the complete lack of pearls and the overabundance of tour groups departing from the harbor on various cruises. There was, however, one thing of interest to us: the actual trail that we were supposed to take.
You see, the trail between Frasers Beach and Pearl Harbor did not start right where you first got off of the highway by the sign that says "Frasers Beach". The trail starts about a kilometer down the road next to another sign that says "Frasers Beach". Needless to say, the walk back was much less perilous.
Once back to the car, Jen declared that she wanted to try driving. Being the sporting chap that I am, I agreed that this would be a smashing place for her to try left side driving as we were in a fairly deserted, low traffic area (my own experience of trying to figure things out as I went when driving in a city indicated that this would be a much easier way to learn).
Twenty moderately terrifying minutes later we pulled into the Moose Bar and Restaurant in Te Anau, where we had decided to have lunch. It was not that Jen's driving was terrifying (in fact, she did much better than I did at staying in the lane at first), it was the sitting in the passenger seat while someone else figured out how to drive on the wrong side of the road. I told her that I was quite impressed that she hadn't screamed more when I was driving in Christchurch.
After a quick lunch in The Moose we were off to Queenstown. The drive was uneventful but pretty. I started to get fatigued, so Jen took another spell driving about half way through and remained at the helm until we got near the city, where I took over again.
We found our accommodation here in Queenstown without much drama. We are staying at a lodge about 50 meters from the start of the down town strip. Let me fill you in a bit about Queenstown: it is the "Adventure Capital" of NZ*. Just about every adventury thing you would want to do can be done in this town: bungy jumping, hang gliding, white water rafting, paragliding, jet boating, etc. It is also central to several ski areas in the mountains in this area.
Needless to say the city attracts a demographic that is a bit younger and more exuberant than, say, the Fiordland National Park. There are lots of hip little bars and cafes and about a third of the commercial establishments here deal with adventure sporting in one way or another. Some book trips, others sell supplies, others sell hipster clothing proclaiming the extreme sports adventuring life style. It is a very interesting city, very different from Te Anau. All that being said, our accommodation here seem a bit more like a dorm room than a hotel. Very small, somewhat ugly decorations, and thin walls make us feel like we are on spring break somewhere that you can't drink the water.
Since last night was our 1 week anniversary, we decided to head someplace nice for dinner. After consulting the tour guides, we decided on a place called The Bath House, which is apparently an old bath house that has been converted into a swanky restaurant. Unfortunately, it is closed on Mondays, which we only found out by walking there and seeing the dark building.
Strike One.
We then stood around the entrance to the Bath House and advertised our status as "Dumb American Tourists" by whipping out the tour book and trying to find a backup. The next fanciest place looked to be a place called The Bunker, which was somewhat ambiguously located on the map. After a couple of minutes walking around a back ally, we finally found the door and entered. It was a quaint little place with lots of character and only a couple of tables. All of which were full and would not be free for over an hour.
Strike Two.
Understandably flummoxed by the uselessness of the tour book, we decided to fall back on the old reliable "Pick a Place at Random and Eat There" method of restaurant location. A couple of doors down the ally from The Bunker was the back door to a little joint called Surreal. In we went and managed to snag a table for two, whose romantic atmosphere was slightly marred because the candle on the table had previously been extinguished by the wind coming in from the open door. We still don't know why they had the doors propped open, as it was quite chilly (about 10 C).
Fortunately we were bundled against the weather and simple left a couple of layers on. Jen had pork roasted in milk and honey on a bed of kumara and potatoes. I had a Mediterranean stir fry which was pine-nut free on the second try. I have never had feta cheese in a stir fry before, but it worked quite well and I will have to try it once I get back to the States. Ordering drinks was amusing: I had to explain how to make an Amaretto Sour, which Jen ordered, to the bar tender. He also had an interesting interpretation of a Manhattan; I think he added Grenadine. The martini, however, was excellent and straight out of a Bond movie (although I think 007 gets his with a twist, whereas I prefer an olive).
After dinner, our plans for heading to one of the trendy bars were dashed by the reality of our exhaustion from our earlier ordeal on Frasers Beach, so we headed back to the lodge and turned in. Since the place at which we are staying is not a B&B, we were somewhat relieved to find ourselves on our own for breakfast - that meant that we could sleep in a bit, which we did. We had brunch at a small cafe and then headed back to the room to get ready for our adventure of the day: kayaking on the lake.
Neither of us have done any kayaking before, so we didn't really know what to wear. The answer, of course, was to go with a bunch of layers. We were picked up by Glenn, who was our guide for the afternoon and is quite a character. He has been a guide of one sort or another in Queenstown for the last 20 years and just started the kayaking business with some other people in October.
Those of you who are used to Michigan would be astounded to hear that the lake here is almost completely unused by boaters. It is this huge, gorgeous lake surrounded on all sides by towering mountains, and there were a total of four boats on the lake today, two of which were our kayaks (Jen and I were in a two-person kayak, Glenn was in his own).
Glenn entertained us along the way with tidbits of the history of NZ and the Queenstown area. Some of the tidbits were a moderately embellished, such as when he told us that, back before the Maori hunted them to extinction, the moas (an ostrich sized flightless bird) towered above the trees. Also, there was something about a kind of eagle that hunted people which the Maori counter-hunted to extinction by baiting the eagle with a live person.
The highlight of the afternoon, though, was when we pulled off to the side and had tea in the rain while sitting in our kayaks. That may be something of a quintessential Kiwi experience, but you may need to work sheep in there somehow for it to really sum up the country.
Once back in town, both Jen and I were feeling the lack of anything substantial to eat throughout the day, so we changed out of our wet clothes and headed out to find a place to eat. We stumbled upon a bar called the Red Rock which looked to have a bit of character and headed inside. Jen had a salad of some kind and I had beef nachos, which were not in any way spicy, but were instead served with a sweet fruit chutney on top. Not quite authentic TexMex, but quite good. When we were ordering our drinks, I, in my never ending quest to find good beer wherever I go, asked the bartender what the Tiu beer that they had on tap was like. Her response was essentially "If you are asking how a beer is, you won't like Tiu, but here's a taste anyway". She was right, of course, it was a Bud/Miller/Coors style beer.
Both Jen and I went with Monteith's again (she the Redler and I the Ale). Apparently I got quite lucky when I picked Monteith's at random from the beer list on that first night in Christchurch, as we have yet to find another beer as good (though the Pitch Black Stout that Jen had at Milford was right up there).
After dinner we decided on the extreme sport adventure thing that we are going to don while here: we booked a bungy jump for tomorrow at 11:45. Once that was booked, we did a bit of souvenir shopping, and then returned to the lodge to do some laundry, which I am checking on periodically while I write here.
And on that note, we're pretty much caught up on what has been happening here.
* - I wanted to find a local tavern, sit down, order an ale, and wait for some stranger in dire need of assistance to give us a map and promise great treasure and fame if we would help them, but Jen pointed out that I didn't really need another level in Geek, so the phat XP would be wasted.
This, however, was no nice, wide, sandy beach like we found at Cannibal Bay. Oh no. This beach was all loose rocks ranging from golf ball sized on up to mid sized boulders. This may or may not seem like a big deal, unless you have ever tried to walk on loose stones. About an hour of hard hiking across loose stones, over fields of Technicolor algae seeping out of the rock, through packs of vicious dire opossums, and much ankle peril, we finally made it to our final destination: Pearl Harbor.
Pearl Harbor was a bit of a disappointment, what with the complete lack of pearls and the overabundance of tour groups departing from the harbor on various cruises. There was, however, one thing of interest to us: the actual trail that we were supposed to take.
You see, the trail between Frasers Beach and Pearl Harbor did not start right where you first got off of the highway by the sign that says "Frasers Beach". The trail starts about a kilometer down the road next to another sign that says "Frasers Beach". Needless to say, the walk back was much less perilous.
Once back to the car, Jen declared that she wanted to try driving. Being the sporting chap that I am, I agreed that this would be a smashing place for her to try left side driving as we were in a fairly deserted, low traffic area (my own experience of trying to figure things out as I went when driving in a city indicated that this would be a much easier way to learn).
Twenty moderately terrifying minutes later we pulled into the Moose Bar and Restaurant in Te Anau, where we had decided to have lunch. It was not that Jen's driving was terrifying (in fact, she did much better than I did at staying in the lane at first), it was the sitting in the passenger seat while someone else figured out how to drive on the wrong side of the road. I told her that I was quite impressed that she hadn't screamed more when I was driving in Christchurch.
After a quick lunch in The Moose we were off to Queenstown. The drive was uneventful but pretty. I started to get fatigued, so Jen took another spell driving about half way through and remained at the helm until we got near the city, where I took over again.
We found our accommodation here in Queenstown without much drama. We are staying at a lodge about 50 meters from the start of the down town strip. Let me fill you in a bit about Queenstown: it is the "Adventure Capital" of NZ*. Just about every adventury thing you would want to do can be done in this town: bungy jumping, hang gliding, white water rafting, paragliding, jet boating, etc. It is also central to several ski areas in the mountains in this area.
Needless to say the city attracts a demographic that is a bit younger and more exuberant than, say, the Fiordland National Park. There are lots of hip little bars and cafes and about a third of the commercial establishments here deal with adventure sporting in one way or another. Some book trips, others sell supplies, others sell hipster clothing proclaiming the extreme sports adventuring life style. It is a very interesting city, very different from Te Anau. All that being said, our accommodation here seem a bit more like a dorm room than a hotel. Very small, somewhat ugly decorations, and thin walls make us feel like we are on spring break somewhere that you can't drink the water.
Since last night was our 1 week anniversary, we decided to head someplace nice for dinner. After consulting the tour guides, we decided on a place called The Bath House, which is apparently an old bath house that has been converted into a swanky restaurant. Unfortunately, it is closed on Mondays, which we only found out by walking there and seeing the dark building.
Strike One.
We then stood around the entrance to the Bath House and advertised our status as "Dumb American Tourists" by whipping out the tour book and trying to find a backup. The next fanciest place looked to be a place called The Bunker, which was somewhat ambiguously located on the map. After a couple of minutes walking around a back ally, we finally found the door and entered. It was a quaint little place with lots of character and only a couple of tables. All of which were full and would not be free for over an hour.
Strike Two.
Understandably flummoxed by the uselessness of the tour book, we decided to fall back on the old reliable "Pick a Place at Random and Eat There" method of restaurant location. A couple of doors down the ally from The Bunker was the back door to a little joint called Surreal. In we went and managed to snag a table for two, whose romantic atmosphere was slightly marred because the candle on the table had previously been extinguished by the wind coming in from the open door. We still don't know why they had the doors propped open, as it was quite chilly (about 10 C).
Fortunately we were bundled against the weather and simple left a couple of layers on. Jen had pork roasted in milk and honey on a bed of kumara and potatoes. I had a Mediterranean stir fry which was pine-nut free on the second try. I have never had feta cheese in a stir fry before, but it worked quite well and I will have to try it once I get back to the States. Ordering drinks was amusing: I had to explain how to make an Amaretto Sour, which Jen ordered, to the bar tender. He also had an interesting interpretation of a Manhattan; I think he added Grenadine. The martini, however, was excellent and straight out of a Bond movie (although I think 007 gets his with a twist, whereas I prefer an olive).
After dinner, our plans for heading to one of the trendy bars were dashed by the reality of our exhaustion from our earlier ordeal on Frasers Beach, so we headed back to the lodge and turned in. Since the place at which we are staying is not a B&B, we were somewhat relieved to find ourselves on our own for breakfast - that meant that we could sleep in a bit, which we did. We had brunch at a small cafe and then headed back to the room to get ready for our adventure of the day: kayaking on the lake.
Neither of us have done any kayaking before, so we didn't really know what to wear. The answer, of course, was to go with a bunch of layers. We were picked up by Glenn, who was our guide for the afternoon and is quite a character. He has been a guide of one sort or another in Queenstown for the last 20 years and just started the kayaking business with some other people in October.
Those of you who are used to Michigan would be astounded to hear that the lake here is almost completely unused by boaters. It is this huge, gorgeous lake surrounded on all sides by towering mountains, and there were a total of four boats on the lake today, two of which were our kayaks (Jen and I were in a two-person kayak, Glenn was in his own).
Glenn entertained us along the way with tidbits of the history of NZ and the Queenstown area. Some of the tidbits were a moderately embellished, such as when he told us that, back before the Maori hunted them to extinction, the moas (an ostrich sized flightless bird) towered above the trees. Also, there was something about a kind of eagle that hunted people which the Maori counter-hunted to extinction by baiting the eagle with a live person.
The highlight of the afternoon, though, was when we pulled off to the side and had tea in the rain while sitting in our kayaks. That may be something of a quintessential Kiwi experience, but you may need to work sheep in there somehow for it to really sum up the country.
Once back in town, both Jen and I were feeling the lack of anything substantial to eat throughout the day, so we changed out of our wet clothes and headed out to find a place to eat. We stumbled upon a bar called the Red Rock which looked to have a bit of character and headed inside. Jen had a salad of some kind and I had beef nachos, which were not in any way spicy, but were instead served with a sweet fruit chutney on top. Not quite authentic TexMex, but quite good. When we were ordering our drinks, I, in my never ending quest to find good beer wherever I go, asked the bartender what the Tiu beer that they had on tap was like. Her response was essentially "If you are asking how a beer is, you won't like Tiu, but here's a taste anyway". She was right, of course, it was a Bud/Miller/Coors style beer.
Both Jen and I went with Monteith's again (she the Redler and I the Ale). Apparently I got quite lucky when I picked Monteith's at random from the beer list on that first night in Christchurch, as we have yet to find another beer as good (though the Pitch Black Stout that Jen had at Milford was right up there).
After dinner we decided on the extreme sport adventure thing that we are going to don while here: we booked a bungy jump for tomorrow at 11:45. Once that was booked, we did a bit of souvenir shopping, and then returned to the lodge to do some laundry, which I am checking on periodically while I write here.
And on that note, we're pretty much caught up on what has been happening here.
* - I wanted to find a local tavern, sit down, order an ale, and wait for some stranger in dire need of assistance to give us a map and promise great treasure and fame if we would help them, but Jen pointed out that I didn't really need another level in Geek, so the phat XP would be wasted.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Dunedin to Queenstown
You will have to excuse our lack of blogging ... the last several days have been quite full of adventure, excitement, and driving. Also I forgot to pack an Ethernet cable and the B&B at which we were staying at Te Anau only has wired internet access.
On Friday, we did the Otago peninsula, just to the East of Dunedin. The driving was moderately terrifying, as the Kiwis apparently do not believe in guard rails. Our first stop was Larnach Castle. We were as surprised as you to learn that there is a castle in New Zealand.
The castle and its ground were gorgeous, but the sordid tale of the Larnach family was like a train wreck: you really want to look away, but have to keep finding out more. To sum up: Larnach had five children by his first wife. His first wife died suddenly, so Larnach married her sister with some sort of fancy prenuptial agreement to protect him from his creditors. His second wife died in surgery and there was some shenanigans with him forcing his children to sign an agreement without knowing what it contained to get all of his holdings back. He married a third wife: a sweet, young thing about 30 years his junior. Everything was super until one of his sons started having an affair with her. That ended with Larnach shooting himself in the Parliament building (he was a politician) and later the son killing himself as well. Soap opera writers could not make that sort if thing up.
After a perilous drive back down the mountain, we continued up the coast towards the wharf from which we were to depart for our albatross and seal viewing cruise. The cruise was pretty cool: we happened upon a port bound fishing boat which was trailed by a couple hundred sea birds, amongst which were Royal Northern, Royal Southern, and two other species of albatross. The guy driving the ship said that this was a very rare occurrence, as albatrosses do not normally follow shipping vessels that close to shore. In addition to the albatrosses, we also saw myriad other species of sea bird and New Zealand Fur Seals.
To cap off the afternoon, we went further up the coast to the Royal Albatross Centre, where we got to see four of the twenty-three chicks currently nesting on the Otago peninsula. A Royal Albatross chick will, at its heaviest, weigh in at 12-14 kilograms! That is 26-31 pounds for those of you, like me, who can't convert metric to American units in your head.
The drive back to Dunedin was not quite as nerve wracking as the drive out, as the west-bound lane was against the cliff face, instead of on the water side (with no guard rail and a shoulder whose width is best measured in millimeters), but it was still arduous. We had dinner at a hip little place called Craft, where I had lamb shank and Jen had a bowl of kumara pumpkin soup as big as her head (kumara is what they call a sweet potato here). We were greeted by a lovely little NZ$10 parking ticket when we got back to the car.
On Saturday, we had to drive up to Te Anau. Since it was not that far of a drive and we had all day, we decided to take the scenic southern route, rather than the more direct (and apparently not as scenic) route. Things were fairly slow going, due to all of the sharp, steep turns that driving through the mountains entails.
And then we saw the sign: Cannibal Bay, 400 m Turn Left. Jen and I experienced one of those moments of near-telepathic nonverbal communication that can only exist between two people who have been married as long as we have been (5 days, at that point), and we immediately turned off and drove 14 km over an unsealed (unpaved to you Yanks) road to a little beach with all sorts of cool rocks, cliffs, sea lions, and tourists attempting to be eaten by the sea lions. I'll let the pictures speak for them selves:
After scampering over rocks and around sea lions for longer than we should have we headed back to the car and realized that we might or might not be able to make it to Te Anau for the glow worm cruise that was scheduled for that evening. Contributing to the delay was the dinner we had in Invercargill at a place called Hell, which serves gourmet pizzas and had old Tom and Jerry cartoons playing on the plasma a screen. We managed to make it with minutes to spare, but only by leaving local speed ordinances crying and bleeding in the corner. Despite the name, the glow worm cruise was really cool. We took a boat across Lake Te Anau to the cave entrance, where they have built a wee lodge with refreshments and such for people taking the glow worm tour.
In the lodge at the entrance to the cave, they showed us a couple of time-lapse, infrared videos of glow worms in action. One of them was of a territorial fight between two glow worms that started with one glow worm knocking the other off the ceiling of the cave and ended with the knocked off glow worm getting eaten by the other one after a valiant, but ultimately futile counter attack. Several of the senior citizens who made up the rest of the tour group where quite shocked to see the brutality of the life of a glow worm.
Once the videos were done, we walked a couple hundred meters into the cave. There, we hopped onto a small, 10 person boat, the guide turned off all of the lights and we went deeper into the cave on the water to view the glow worms. Now, when I say "we went deeper into the cave on the water", what I mean is that in the pitch black darkness (the glow worms did not emit enough light to actually see anything) the guide stood at the bow of the boat and pulled us through the cave along chains that had been set into the cave wall. Alas, we could not take pictures of the glow worms, so you'll just have to take our word for it that they were cool.
The whole thing took about 2.5 hours and, once again, had us checking into our B&B after 10:30. This place was decorated in a fashion that I can only describe as ultramodern. Jen and I both felt like we were not cool enough to stay there. But, we had already booked it and they didn't have any other guests, so we stayed.
On Sunday, we had a free day in Te Anau. Having slept past all of the interesting cruises and tours departing from places near Te Anau, we decided to drive up to Milford Sound and do some short hikes and see a fiord. That is not a typo, apparently only the Scandinavians spell it fjord. We did six little side hikes, each 20-40 minutes in length: Lake Mistletoe, Walker Creek, Lake Gunn, Lake Marian Falls, and The Chasm. All of these were incredible in their own way. The best, however, were The Chasm (where a river has carved the rock into huge, intricate, swirling shapes that go down about 15 meters) and Lake Gunn (which was a walk through a beech tree forest that predated European knowledge of the Americas).
After the last side hike, we hoofed it up to Milford, where we hoped to catch a quick dinner and then try to head back to Te Anau before the sun went down. We missed the cafe closing by mere minutes and the bar did not start serving food for another half hour, so Jen had great fun taking pictures of the fiord until the batteries in the camera died. For dinner, Jen had a steak sandwich that was served with an enormous pile of beer-battered fries and I had pork sirloin garnished with fried apple and a beer-honey sauce that I am going to try to make once I get access to a kitchen again (I even went and asked the chef how it was made).
The drive back was uneventful once we got out of the clouds, except that the traffic signal at the kilometer long tunnel turns off at 6, so we had an interesting time navigating around oncoming traffic in the 1.5 lane tunnel. We also pulled off the road and killed the car to look at the stars in the clear, moonless sky without any light pollution.
That sums it up for the last couple of days. We are in Queenstown now, getting ready to head out for the evening. I'll tell you about our adventures this morning with a bloke named Fraser and Jen's first experience with left-side driving tomorrow.
On Friday, we did the Otago peninsula, just to the East of Dunedin. The driving was moderately terrifying, as the Kiwis apparently do not believe in guard rails. Our first stop was Larnach Castle. We were as surprised as you to learn that there is a castle in New Zealand.
The castle and its ground were gorgeous, but the sordid tale of the Larnach family was like a train wreck: you really want to look away, but have to keep finding out more. To sum up: Larnach had five children by his first wife. His first wife died suddenly, so Larnach married her sister with some sort of fancy prenuptial agreement to protect him from his creditors. His second wife died in surgery and there was some shenanigans with him forcing his children to sign an agreement without knowing what it contained to get all of his holdings back. He married a third wife: a sweet, young thing about 30 years his junior. Everything was super until one of his sons started having an affair with her. That ended with Larnach shooting himself in the Parliament building (he was a politician) and later the son killing himself as well. Soap opera writers could not make that sort if thing up.
To cap off the afternoon, we went further up the coast to the Royal Albatross Centre, where we got to see four of the twenty-three chicks currently nesting on the Otago peninsula. A Royal Albatross chick will, at its heaviest, weigh in at 12-14 kilograms! That is 26-31 pounds for those of you, like me, who can't convert metric to American units in your head.
The drive back to Dunedin was not quite as nerve wracking as the drive out, as the west-bound lane was against the cliff face, instead of on the water side (with no guard rail and a shoulder whose width is best measured in millimeters), but it was still arduous. We had dinner at a hip little place called Craft, where I had lamb shank and Jen had a bowl of kumara pumpkin soup as big as her head (kumara is what they call a sweet potato here). We were greeted by a lovely little NZ$10 parking ticket when we got back to the car.
On Saturday, we had to drive up to Te Anau. Since it was not that far of a drive and we had all day, we decided to take the scenic southern route, rather than the more direct (and apparently not as scenic) route. Things were fairly slow going, due to all of the sharp, steep turns that driving through the mountains entails.
And then we saw the sign: Cannibal Bay, 400 m Turn Left. Jen and I experienced one of those moments of near-telepathic nonverbal communication that can only exist between two people who have been married as long as we have been (5 days, at that point), and we immediately turned off and drove 14 km over an unsealed (unpaved to you Yanks) road to a little beach with all sorts of cool rocks, cliffs, sea lions, and tourists attempting to be eaten by the sea lions. I'll let the pictures speak for them selves:
After scampering over rocks and around sea lions for longer than we should have we headed back to the car and realized that we might or might not be able to make it to Te Anau for the glow worm cruise that was scheduled for that evening. Contributing to the delay was the dinner we had in Invercargill at a place called Hell, which serves gourmet pizzas and had old Tom and Jerry cartoons playing on the plasma a screen. We managed to make it with minutes to spare, but only by leaving local speed ordinances crying and bleeding in the corner. Despite the name, the glow worm cruise was really cool. We took a boat across Lake Te Anau to the cave entrance, where they have built a wee lodge with refreshments and such for people taking the glow worm tour.
In the lodge at the entrance to the cave, they showed us a couple of time-lapse, infrared videos of glow worms in action. One of them was of a territorial fight between two glow worms that started with one glow worm knocking the other off the ceiling of the cave and ended with the knocked off glow worm getting eaten by the other one after a valiant, but ultimately futile counter attack. Several of the senior citizens who made up the rest of the tour group where quite shocked to see the brutality of the life of a glow worm.
Once the videos were done, we walked a couple hundred meters into the cave. There, we hopped onto a small, 10 person boat, the guide turned off all of the lights and we went deeper into the cave on the water to view the glow worms. Now, when I say "we went deeper into the cave on the water", what I mean is that in the pitch black darkness (the glow worms did not emit enough light to actually see anything) the guide stood at the bow of the boat and pulled us through the cave along chains that had been set into the cave wall. Alas, we could not take pictures of the glow worms, so you'll just have to take our word for it that they were cool.
The whole thing took about 2.5 hours and, once again, had us checking into our B&B after 10:30. This place was decorated in a fashion that I can only describe as ultramodern. Jen and I both felt like we were not cool enough to stay there. But, we had already booked it and they didn't have any other guests, so we stayed.
On Sunday, we had a free day in Te Anau. Having slept past all of the interesting cruises and tours departing from places near Te Anau, we decided to drive up to Milford Sound and do some short hikes and see a fiord. That is not a typo, apparently only the Scandinavians spell it fjord. We did six little side hikes, each 20-40 minutes in length: Lake Mistletoe, Walker Creek, Lake Gunn, Lake Marian Falls, and The Chasm. All of these were incredible in their own way. The best, however, were The Chasm (where a river has carved the rock into huge, intricate, swirling shapes that go down about 15 meters) and Lake Gunn (which was a walk through a beech tree forest that predated European knowledge of the Americas).
After the last side hike, we hoofed it up to Milford, where we hoped to catch a quick dinner and then try to head back to Te Anau before the sun went down. We missed the cafe closing by mere minutes and the bar did not start serving food for another half hour, so Jen had great fun taking pictures of the fiord until the batteries in the camera died. For dinner, Jen had a steak sandwich that was served with an enormous pile of beer-battered fries and I had pork sirloin garnished with fried apple and a beer-honey sauce that I am going to try to make once I get access to a kitchen again (I even went and asked the chef how it was made).
The drive back was uneventful once we got out of the clouds, except that the traffic signal at the kilometer long tunnel turns off at 6, so we had an interesting time navigating around oncoming traffic in the 1.5 lane tunnel. We also pulled off the road and killed the car to look at the stars in the clear, moonless sky without any light pollution.
That sums it up for the last couple of days. We are in Queenstown now, getting ready to head out for the evening. I'll tell you about our adventures this morning with a bloke named Fraser and Jen's first experience with left-side driving tomorrow.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
We made it!
We are in the Auckland airport, with about 2 hours to wait until our flight to Christchurch.
Estimated time to nuptuals: 33 hours
Estimated time to nuptuals: 33 hours
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