There (Wanaka) and back again (to Christchurch)

It occurred to me the other night that most people don’t know the lay of the land here, and when I talk about certain places, you have no idea where on God’s green Earth I actually am.  So here’s a snapshot of where I’ve been over the past six weeks.

So, if you’ve interpreted my little map correctly (or if you’ve read the handy little title above), you’ll have deduced that I’m back in Christchurch. 

It was with a bit of a heavy heart, and a heavier bag, that I left Wanaka Saturday morning.  Over the course of the six days I’d spent at the filthy house, it had gotten steadily cleaner and cosier.  It really was nice having my own room, even if sound travelled through the paper-thin walls with surprising efficiency (I shared a wall with a Swedish “goth” couple, the female half who, if she wasn’t watching episode after episode of Two and a Half Men, was jabbering incessantly). And I doubt I’d ever get enough of looking at those mountains.

Lucky ducks

But leave Wanaka I did, hopping on board the 10:45 naked bus with no real idea of how long of a journey it would be.

I wasn’t bothered though.  One of my favourite things to do in this country is to just sit back and watch the invariably gorgeous scenery glide by.

This particular journey brought me through Otago’s Lindy’s Pass, with its kilometre upon kilometre of tussock-tufted hills and snow-dusted mountains.  The Southern Alps snuck into view around midday, and thankfully stuck around for a few hours. 

Mmmmmmm....tussocky.

At near 2:00 we had a rest stop and bus changeover in Lake Tekapo.  This delightful little town had charmed me and my travel companion last trip, and in the half hour I was there on Saturday, it had nearly convinced me to ditch the rest of the ride and make camp there for a few nights.

The main draw of the town of Lake Tekapo isn’t the, admittedly stunning, views (more gorgeous mountains? Ho hum), or the nice walks (Another amazing treck?  Yawn).  No.  The name of the place says it all.  The lake is what sets this place apart.

Just look at that water:

Have you ever seen, even imagined, water that colour?  Though it looks like the result of a chemistry experiment gone wrong, or some kind of awful environmental disaster, I can assure you, it’s not.  That’s all natural baby.

Well...that camera angle's not so natural.  Nor is my hair colour.  But the water is all natural baby.

I might mess up the science here a bit, but here’s what I remember from the explanation I got last year.  The rivers that feed into the lake flow down from glaciers in the Alps.  As those glaciers move subtly about, they grind against the mountains and create this rocky powder that gets carried downstream towards the lake.  This “rock flour” is so ultra-fine that it’s suspended in the water, and the light reflects off of it in such a way that we see that brilliant turquoise.  Pictures really don’t do it justice. 

The rest of the journey was rather uneventful.  The only thing of note was the interminable chatter of two Spanish girls sitting in front of me.  Good golly could those chicks yammer on.  In six hours of travel they were quiet for all of 45 minutes I reckon.  Most of you likely know that I’m quite the introvert, and I cherish those relationships where silences are comfortable and not infrequent.  When I’m thrust into a confined space with people who have never met a silence they didn’t fill, I get antsy.  Thank goodness for my ipod.

**Little tangent here: as I sit here writing this, the girl next to me has removed her shoes, unleashing a foot odour of a potency which defies description.  It’s distracting, and disgusting. Thank you for allowing me to share my pain.  And now back to regularly scheduled programming**

So, here I am back in Christchurch.  A few things have brought me back here, and only one is actually fun.

·        I’m slowly making my way north so I can be sure to be in Wellington for my interview with the University of Victoria on November 16^th.  (not fun)

·        My laptop battery has stopped functioning properly.  It won’t run unless it’s plugged in, won’t take a charge, and is steadily losing power.  I’m hoping to find a replacement in town, but given that it’s a Sony, things aren’t looking promising (definitely not fun)

·        I have to peruse the library to do some research for this stupid essay I’m expected to write for this course I’m enrolled in against my will.  A course that’s a prerequisite for a program I’m not even sure I’ve been accepted into yet. In other words, I might be doing this work for nothing!  Yay! (decidedly not fun)

·        The Black Seeds had a show in town Saturday night (fun!) and I went (double fun!). 

There’s a very good chance you’ve never heard of the Black Seeds, but they’re a big deal here in New Zealand.  They’re an eight-piece “dub” band I discovered during my last trip here.  On a whim last week I went to their site (and now you can too!) and looked up their upcoming concert schedule.  To find out that they were playing a few days later in an accessible location was quite the thrill.  The show was lots of fun, even though I was on my own.  I’d go see them again in a heartbeat.

It’s interesting being here during Halloween.  When I first came here in 2004, it wasn’t celebrated much at all, but in the years hence, it’s started to take hold.  Last night there were some disguised revellers out on the town, but not many.  Apparently some trick or treating took place, though most households didn’t have candy (or “lollies” as they say here) on hand. And no pumpkins  or jack o’ lanterns are to be found – not surprising given that it’s spring. 

So that’s about it for now. I've spent the last two (sunny) days at the library. I'm supposed to submit an essay on the 12th, and I figured I'd get it out of the way as soon as possible. Hopefully I'll have a first draft done tomorrow.

On Thursday I'm taking off for Picton and the next morning I'm starting a scuba diving course.  Huzzah!  I've been wanting to get certified for years and have never taken the time to do it.  I've tried to work something out a few times since I left Canada, but timing was never right.  Looks like it'll work out this time though, so I'm thrilled.

TTFN!

Cleaning up Wanaka -- well, a small part of it, anyway

It’s a great week to be in Wanaka.  The weather has been absolutely incredible and the weekend’s WanakaFest was a hoot.

I participated in a bunch of activities with a nice German girl I met at the hostel.  We got a little tipsy at the food and wine tent where we sampled some of the truly delicious local wine.  We watched the cardboard boat launch and the urban mountain bike race.  Most of all, we got a kick out of watching the “Perfect Woman” competition.  Before you judge me for backing a beauty pageant, hear me out.  This was like no pageant I’ve ever heard of before.  For one thing, it was sponsored by Tui, the kiwi equivalent of Molsons.

The 30 girls vying for the title completed traditional tasks such as cooking a meal and sewing a button on a shirt. They also had to do a number of less, oh, let’s say “girly” things, and that’s where things got fun.  They donned fireman gear and shot a target with a hose, they chopped wood, they drove a backhoe, they skinned dead rabbits with their bare hands, they opened beer bottles with various objects (belt buckles, lipstick, flipflops), they welded, they hammered, they scaled a 50-foot pole.  It was wild.

The long list of events the Tui's Perfect Woman contestants took part in.

The girls suit up for one of the competitions.

Competititors were aided up the climbing pole by Canada's own world champion speed climber.  This "Gingah Ninga" posesses not only three world records, but also a splendid name lifted straight out of a romance novel: Stirling Hart.

The rabbit skinning -- I'm glad I didn't see much of it.

Less wild is what I’ve been getting up to the past three days. I found myself an undemanding gig cleaning for two hours a day in exchange for accommodation. It’s OK.  It would be great, if the cleaning wasn’t so, how can I put this?  Intense.

The place in question is a former gym that was converted some time ago into a shared house.  I’m sure at one time it was a glorious place with its big lounge area, Japanese baths, stone showers (those are still pretty sweet, actually), big backyard and climbing walls. 

Buuuuuuut along the way it’s definitely lost its charm.  The owner is an Aussie who grew up in Japan and bought the place during her ski-racing days.  She only comes to town twice a year when the running of the place passes from one caretaker to the next.  I don’t know what the recent caretakers have been taking care of, but it certainly wasn’t this place.

It. Was. Disgusting.

The lounge, mid-clean.

The kitchen, pre clean

Soot, dirt, dead flies, grime, random socks, beer bottle caps, rolling papers: you name it, it was lying around. How do people live like this?

To give you a better idea of what I’m dealing with, it took me four hours just to clean the lounge, and cleaning the accumulated grime on the computer took a full ten minutes. This morning I started on the kitchen, and I think it’ll take two of us at least six hours to get that room up to liveable standards. Ew.

On the upside, it’s kind of rewarding to see the progress of this place going from pigsty to just dingy.  And I have a free room to myself (woohoo!) and free Internet (double woohoo!), so I figure I’m saving about $30 a day, which goes a long way. 

Another great thing is that by noon, I’m free to do what I wish, and the stunning vistas here are a great way to cleanse my visual pallet after staring at filth for a few hours each morning.

Mostly my afternoons have been spent sitting by the lake, enjoying the sunshine and a good book, watching the ducks and ducklings swim by, and marvelling at the scenery.

Yesterday, however, I was rather ambitious and set out on a marvellous hike along one of the nearby rivers and around one side of Lake Wanaka. At 16km, it was by far the furthest I’ve walked in a single session since I’ve been here.  I’m happy to report that it was mercifully flat, and other than the plentiful mountain bikers with whom I had to share the path, there was little to complain about.

By the river.

Would you look at the colour of that water?  Can you believe it?

Along the path.

I even managed not to get sunburned, despite the relentless rays.  Some of you may not know this, but NZ is the unlucky landmass that finds itself under the hole in the ozone layer.  The sun is very VERY harsh here. And with so much of the population being fair-skinned, and sunscreen exorbitantly priced, it’s no wonder skin cancer is such a problem here.  I myself had a mole removed after spending three summer months here two years ago.  I’m armed with lots of SPF 30, a wide-brimmed hat and a fierce determination not to burn (or wrinkle!) this time around. Still, I’m freckly as.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I’ll say a somewhat reluctant goodbye to Wanaka on Saturday, when I take off for Christchurch. That night I’m going to see the Black Seeds, a kiwi Dub band, in concert.  Check them out for yourselves. Should be good a good show.

Dunedin offers me steep streets and structure.

Tuesday morning I was up early to grab a bus at 8:00, destination: the city of Dunedin, some five hours South of Christchurch.

It was a pleasant route that I must have done back in 2004 when I drove from Christchurch to here, but for the life of me, none of it looked familiar.  Not the delightfully kitchy Salmon World in Rakaia, not the pretty towns of Timaru or Oamaru, not the distant snow-capped mountains.  Nothing.  It was like seeing for the first time. It was great.

My enchantment during the ride contined as I arrived in Dunedin.  It was definitely helped by the absolutely gorgeous weather.  The sky was a completely cloudless brilliant blue that makes a bad mood almost impossible.  What could make a good mood bad is having to trek nearly a km to my hostel with some 40 pounds of stuff on my back.  Almost all of it uphill.

Cause nearly everything seems to be uphill in Dunedin.  It is a city in constant battle with gravity.

The train station, on its side (sigh)

Inside the train station (right side up! huzzah!)

If you first arrive, like I did, at the train station, you might be lulled into a false sense of levelness.  As you make your way into town via the descriptively-named Octagon – an eight-sided open area fringed with bars, restaurants, theatres and shops – you start to get an inkling of the steeply-angled hell into which you are about to ascend.  The roads to the west suddenly and sharply veer upwards, and every step becomes an ordeal. 

I hate this photo program.  The photo was taken lengthwise, while the photo below was taken widthwise, yet here, they are both topsy turvy.  Screw you Blogger!

Yet another NZ city not built on a grid.

Hunched over, sweating profusely, you’re painfully aware of each and every ounce you’re carrying on your person when going uphill.  When you’re headed downhill, it might require less effort, but it’s still not easy.  In order to avoid going ass over tea kettle, you must adopt an odd backward-leaning posture by scooping your tailbone underneath you and taking exaggerated steps, like you're wearing too-big clown shoes.

The world's steepest street is some 5km from the downtown.  I haven't seen it myself, but I've read that it's an asthma attack-inducing 19 degree incline.

Going up up up!

Up some more (though it looks sideways)

Luckily, Dunedin makes up for its unwelcoming inclines with lots of charm.  The views are great, many of the buildings are impressively attractive, and it has a youthful energy thanks to the university around which the city seems to be built. (Unfortunately, a lot of this energy seems to be expelled via the smashing of beer bottles.  I’ve never seen so much broken glass on sidewalks before).

It’s Otago University that brought me here too.  I had my interview with the College of Education yesterday in the hopes that I’ll be accepted into their Graduate Diploma of Teaching program, which would start in January.

It’s hard for me to say whether it went well or not.  I do think they liked me and some of what I had to say seemed to impress them (“very insightful!”). But the fact that I haven’t spent any time in a classroom, other than as a student myself, has them a bit worried that I may not really know whether this is a career I’d be interested in. 

It’s something that has been weighing on me a bit too, so they suggested I contact one of the local schools and see about coming in for a few days next week.  So I have.  On Monday and Tuesday I’ll be sitting in on a bunch of classes at the school just behind my hostel (I can actually hear the kids playing outside as I type this). I’m looking forward to it.

A few more photos for you:

The view from near my hostel.

A church. (duh)

Some building near the train station (see how deceptively flat it is down there?)

And that’s not my only obligation this week (see, I can still have structure J ). On Thursday (as in, today) I’m going to be trying my hand at WWOOFing (Willing Workers On Organic Farms).  Basically, you help out on private farms for a few days in exchange for room and board.

I believe I’m going to be helping the owner with updating her website and doing some cleaning and maintenance work around her house.  Should be a good experience no matter what.

Dolphin swimming in Kaikoura! Yay!

I love dolphins.  I mean, who doesn’t? 

They’re fun, they’re sociable, they’re cute, and they’re unlikely to try and take a taste of your flesh (this is very important to me).

Kaikoura is home to some 2,000 dusky dolphins that live there year round.  They’re not very big by dolphin standards – only 130cm or so in length – and get their name for their grey and white skin.  They’re among the most acrobatic of dolphins and often you can see them doing full summersaults in the air.  I can confirm all this, cause we saw them up close and personal.

How up close and personal?  Try within a few feet. Cause we went swimming with them!  Squee!

Who wouldn't want to swim with us?

I mean, look how playful we are!

Dolphin Encounter was the first company in NZ to offer dolphin swimming.  They’re strictly regulated, make sure that swimmers are well informed not to try to touch the dolphins, and they do nothing to entice the dolphins near us (i.e. no food).  Basically, they somehow find out where a large pod of dolphins is each morning, then head out in that general direction.  Once they spot the pod, they stop the boat, and the snorkelers slide into the water.

It’s not one of those awful places where you pose with a trained dolphin stuck in a pool. The dolphins are wild, free, and if you’re not interesting to them, or if they feel at all threatened, they’d be off like a shot.  Our job as swimmers is to swim out to where they are and keep them entertained so they do stick around.

The way to do that is to interact with them – dive down, make and hold eye contact while they swim around you in tight circles (dizzy!), and make noises.  I opted to alternately hum some of Damien’s songs, and just say inane things like “look at you!  I see you! You’re so cute!” in a high pitched voice.  They seemed to like that.  A few times I had one’s attention for a good two or three minutes at a time.  It really is amazing, since you’re really locking gazes with them and you can feel them engaging.  Wow.

Now let’s give some context here.  It’s early October. It was 9:30 a.m.  We were in the colder section of a country that doesn’t get all that hot to begin with.  Canadians, imagine yourselves taking a dip in open water in March.  Yeah.  It’s cold.

Even with the full body wetsuit – overalls, jacket with attractive crotch strap, booties, gloves, and hood. And no, you’re not getting a photo of that – it was still glacial.  After a few minutes, I couldn’t feel my toes. Poor Nick didn’t stand a chance. He’s allergic to cold, and could feel himself swell up in a matter of minutes.  He soon had to climb out and watch the action from the boat.  Luckily, the action was pretty cool. 

Flippin' cool.



Leap!

There were an estimated 300 or so dolphins in the pod we were with, and apparently this was a particularly good day (or so said the guides) since the dolphins were pretty chill, and stuck around a long time.  Many of them did some tail flaps, some rolls, and most impressively, some flips in the air. 

The backdrop didn’t exactly hurt either, what with the snow-capped mountains and brilliant blue sky. Beautiful.

It was over all too soon.  We reluctantly rode back to shore, passing a few seals and albatrosses along the way.

After a much needed soak in the hot tub at the holiday park where we had stayed (we chose it precisely for that reason), we jumped back in the car and set off for Christchurch.

One last look at Kaikoura.

A brief glimpse of Tongoriro National Park and Wellington

When I last checked in with you folks, we were nestled in the foothills of the mountains in Tongoriro National Park.  I’m very glad we had arrived during daylight hours and had a nice – if distant – look at the mountains, for the view that had so enchanted us on Tuesday was completely obliterated by Wednesday morning.  The mountains were fully shrouded by the thick clouds and fog that had moved in overnight.  Fie!

The forecast had promised the clouds would burn off, so we valiantly headed deeper into the park to Whakapapa village wearing clothing we had deemed appropriate for the excursion – nylon pants, t-shirts, cardigans and rain jackets. 

At the i-site (the visitor’s centre) we enquired about short walks in the area, specifically about the Meads walk – a half-hour walk to a rock wall that was used in some scene in LOTR (still not sure which one). The woman at the counter directed us to head on up to the ski fields, and to take a path behind one of the lifts. 

Let’s remember that it’s early spring here and that we were up in the mountains.  Hence, there was still snow up there, and the ski season was still in full swing (it’s a school holiday this week).  Remember those nylon pants, t-shirts, cardigans and rain jackets we were sporting? Well, we quickly discovered that they were definitely not warm enough. 

We pulled out all the extra layers and cold-weather accessories we could and girded ourselves for a nice challenging walk through the mist. 

Toasty!



We couldn’t see more than 10 feet in front of us for a while, but only for a short while, cause about five minutes after setting out up that slippery, snowy hill, we were in a clearing, and it appeared that we were at the end of the walk (30 minutes my sweet patootie).  The fog suddenly lifted and we were standing in front of a 10-15m high rock wall that we assume was the star of the show.  We took a few quick photos, then headed back to try and warm up. 



Quick!  Someone tell me what scene this is in! We haven't figured it out yet.



We drove (and by “we” I mean Nick) to Wellington all afternoon. Along the way we skirted some truly alarming rock faces that were either seemingly on the brink of tumbling into the road, or had done so already.  We didn't get a picture of it, but one section actually had a car-sized boulder that had rolled across two lanes of road to the other side.

Eeek!  And this was luckily a place where there was a shoulder to the road.  Usually it was just sheer rock face jutting out right next to the pavement.

, and arrived just in time for rush hour.  We swung by two backpacker hostels which had come highly recommended by our travel books and quickly rejected them (the first smelled of a delicate bouquet of old hockey equipment, cat pee and cigarettes; the second’s front porch was writhing with at least 20 disaffected youth. They reminded me of a bunch of cats just lazing about in the sun looking entitled and bored with life).

We ended up at the YHA which was so much nicer than any place I’ve ever stayed in Wellington.  When next I’m back in Wellington I’m not bothering looking anywhere else (and if ever you’re there, do the same.  Trust me.)

We really didn’t see much of Wellington.  A short walk along Cuba street and the main drag was about it.  I did point out a café where the LOTR actors had apparently frequented on occasion, and noticed that the piercing studio that had given me the now-defunct hole in my lip six years ago was equally defunct itself.

It was an early night, as we were expected at the ferry terminal at 7:30 to make our way to the South Island. 

Well…it was meant to be an early night, and Christina and Nick, comfortably ensconced in their cosy double room, did get a full night’s rest.  I, on the other hand, was in a six-person dorm and got lured into a long conversation with a kiwi bloke from somewhere on the North Island who was very sweetly accompanying his niece and her friend to a Paramour concert in town the next night.  They were all very nice.

Who wasn’t nice were the other two twits from our room who loudly stumbled in at 4:00 a.m. More precisely, they loudly and repeatedly attempted unsuccessfully to open the door at 4:00 a.m.  When I got up to open the door for them, they proceeded to turn on the lights and slowly and noisily get ready for bed to the backdrop of my passive aggressive sighs.

I so wanted to return the favour when my alarm went off two and half hours later, but I couldn’t do that to the uncle and girls.  So instead, I did what all nice roommates should, and got ready in the dark trying to make as little noise as possible.  I did get one final passive aggressive act in and used the twits’ nice face wash and moisturiser they had left in the washroom – that’ll teach them! (Not that they’ll notice, but whatever).

On a positive note, that morning was clear and bright, and for once, Wellington wasn’t being hit with gale force winds, so the sea was calm. In short, it was a perfect day to take the ferry.

Just look at that brilliant sunshine.

The crossing from Wellington, on the North Island, to Picton, on the South Island takes three hours on the HUGE ferry boat. It’s a great ride that starts off with great views of Wellington – a picturesque city built into a steep hillside, which means that nearly everyone seems to have a view of the ocean. 

Wellington in the a.m.

The middle section is open sea, which is still quite pretty, and then the last hour or so is through Marlborough Sound, which is particularly stunning.  I was hoping to see dolphins as I had during the crossing last time since Nick has never really seen any (don’t worry, that’s a situation that has been taken care of since then – stay tuned!).  Alas, there were none. 

The Marlborough Sounds -- ahhhhhhhhhhh.

We did see thousands upon thousands of jellyfish though.  So that was cool.

A quick tour of Picton – including the cute park on the water, complete with its own ride-able miniature train and affable conductor – and we were off to Kaikoura, stopping many times along the way to get photos.

How much does this man love his job?  So much!  In case you're wondering, a ride on the train costs 0.20$.

Picton from the boat.

The Ferry in Picton.

Coast, train, and plants

East Coast of the South Island

Nick and a sleepy seal.

Self timers are awesome.

Glowing worms, moa bones, and big mountains, oh my!

Sorry for the two posts today.  I don't always have access to Internet, so when I do, I have to pounce.

This morning we were out the door and on the road by 8:30.  Destination: Waitomo two hours southwest via a rather indirect route (many, if not most routes in NZ are of the indirect nature, thanks to the hilly landscape).

Waitomo is a small town.  It’s fitting, given that what draws people here is a very small thing.  Waitomo is blessed with a large network of caves, which in itself is rather interesting.  But it’s what you find on the roof of many of these caves which has tourists flocking there like moths to the flame – or like flies to the glow worm.

Glow worms are actually glow maggots (ew) that are hatched on the roof of wet, dark caves and cliffs.  They drape long sticky strands that trap unwitting insects that are drawn to the little greenish light the worms emit from their butts. 

It all sounds rather gross, but when you’re standing in a cave looking up at a ceiling covered in thousands of these critters, it’s something else.  It literally looks like someone took a long piece of thick black cardboard, punctured it with pinpricks, then backlit it with a dull green light.

Glowworms? or night's sky?  You decide (pssst...it's the former)

We had the lucky surprise of being the only people in our tour group, so we had our own private guide who drove us through hilly farmland to a cave and guided our raft through the very still water and explained the critters to us.

The entire tour group.

The tour also included some short walks through the idyllic countryside and a tour of dryer cave where we saw tons of stalagtites, stalagmites, rock pearls, flow rock, and tons of other very slow growing formations. 

Overhead you have stalagtites (cause they have to hang on tight).  Below, stalagmites (cause they might reach the top of the cave)

There were also the bones of various animals that had tragically fallen to their deaths through holes some 20-25m above, including a goat, a cow, and even a 200,000 year-old moa skeleton. Crazy.

Oh, and we saw a cave weta.

I think the most exciting thing I heard today was that recently Peter Jackson, the director of Lord of the Rings visited the caves in Waitomo.  Speculation is that he might have been scouting out the location for the cave scenes for The Hobbit. (Squee!) Now all we need is for this actors' dispute to be resolved so we can finally get this movie made.

It really would be aweful for this country if The Hobbit doesn't get filmed here.  It's tourism industry has blossomed since LOTR came out, and if it were to be filmed elsewhere, it could mean a huge loss for decades to come. 

We’re now in the small village of National Park which is in Tongariro National Park (they were really creative when naming the village, no?).  Basically we’re at the foot of four huge, active volcanoes, the highest which is nearly 2800m tall (Ruapehu), and another which had a starring role in Lord of the Rings as Mount Doom (Ngauruhoe). 

Beyold! Ruapehu!

It’s a popular spot for hiking (or tramping, as they call it here) and for skiing, which I was surprised to find out is still going on this late in the year.

Tomorrow the plan is to do a few shorter walks, then head in the general direction of Wellington.