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11.08.06

We awoke early to catch our 7am bus to Franz Josef Glacier - a ten hour bus ride.  It was still pouring, as it had been the night before when we had walked the mile or so home sharing an MP3 player between the two of us, avoiding deep puddles and singing Belle and Sebastian songs.  We weren’t as perky that morning, so instead of walking the mile in the soaking rain with our packs on we called a cab.

We boarded the bus and I immediately fell asleep.  I remained asleep for a long time, over a mountain pass and through several small towns.  I woke up in time for our lunch stop, at a rain drenched café along the side of the highway near to the Pancake Rocks.  After lunch we continued on our way, and it was C.J.’s turn to sleep.  The road started twisting and turning and looked a great deal like HWY 1 in California, along Big Sur.  The ocean was angry looking and gray on one side, while the hills were lush and green on the other.  The waves looked huge, even from high above.

We turned inland again, and eventually reached Franz Josef Village.  The town had one main road which continued on to the Glacier and then on farther south, as well as a smaller parallel road that most of the hotels and hostels were on.  The air smelled very fresh and clean, and the few restaurants were nice looking and pricey.  It reminded me of a larger, more posh version of Government Camp near Timberline Lodge back on Mt. Hood.  We could tell that the mountains were looming somewhere over us, but they remained obstructed by cloud all afternoon.  After checking into our hostel we explored the small town, stopped by the visitor center, ate dinner and turned in for the night.

11.09.06

We got up early and I opened the curtains to see what the weather was doing.  The morning was bright and clear, and I went outside to investigate the mountains.  It turned out that the village was situated in a little crook at the base of a ridge of peaks.  The mountains were white near the top with recent snow, and an icy wind came off of them.  We dressed warmly and got a ride to the Franz Josef Glacier with Charley and Maria, a very friendly, middle aged, Greek couple living in London. Maria told us all about the wonders of Greece, especially the cuisine and got us excited for this coming spring when we’ll  be there. After reaching the carpark we hiked the easy trail to almost the base of the glacier - along with many other tourists who decided to utilize the nice morning.

That morning was the first time I felt a little overcome with awe in New Zealand.  We had seen many beautiful things - but to see a canyon, carved out by an obviously enormous force of nature, to see the actual scars on the sides of the sheer cliffs, the rocks worn completely smooth as if by a river in some places, and scratched with deep grooves in others, to see a wide river bed, with some boulders the size of cars, then on either side to see tall rock cliffs, with white jagged peaks above - it was really amazing to me.  Add to that a frozen river of ice, hundreds of feet high, with a melting river rushing away from it… it was absolutely incredible.  Even the rocks and pebbles themselves were beautiful.  Flaky flat rocks of mica and quartz, sparkling everywhere my feet touched like a path of gems.

As C.J. mentioned, we covertly found a way closer to the glacier and apart from the crowds and chaos.  After the guided tour passed, we made our way to a huge boulder and ate our peanut butter sandwiches while gazing at the glacier.  Occasionally the whole thing would creak or moan as it shifted and melted.  Once, a small avalanche of rocks tumbled down the hill side, and another time a large piece of ice broke free and fell with a couple of bounces to make a big splash in the river below.

It started sprinkling again so we decided to leave before it got ugly.  We went back the way we came. C.J. moved the wood slat on the ladder for me before replacing it and showing his tough guy side by hopping down the face of the rock without the assistance of the ladder.  Another guided group was approaching just as we were leaving and I noticed the angry glare from the guide, followed by several smirks from the guided.

The sprinkles quickly turned to a full on downpour and by the time we reached the carpark we were drenched.  We noticed a car was leaving so we stuck out our thumbs and two kind older British women gave us a ride back into the village.  We passed the rainy afternoon in the hostel lounge watching terrible American movies (Patch Adams, The Italian Job) with European travelers who seemed to genuinely enjoy them.

We had dinner again in the hostel and had another lowkey evening in the mountains. At a small bar nearby we met Elizabeth and Dave, an American couple from South Carolina on their honeymoon. In response to our curious stares at a drink requiring three different glasses, Elizabeth explained (and let me sample) a Red Bull and Jagermeister bomb.  She described the flavor as “liquid Sweet-Tarts”, but it tasted like Children’s Tylenol to me.

11.10.06

The next day was GREAT.  We got up early to catch the shuttle over to Fox Glacier Village.  It was a 35 minute ride, and the morning was completely clear and beautiful.  We put our bags into storage at our new hostel because we arrived too early to check in, and immediately started walking to the Fox Glacier, about five miles out of town.  We enjoyed the crisp mountain air and had fun teasing the numerous Tui birds, which are very easily drawn into conversation.  We’d say things like, “That’s right R2, we’re headed to the Dagobah System”, and the birds would respond with a series of beeps and whistles, correctly completing the Star Wars quotes.

We had walked about three and a half miles when a nice couple from Austria offered us a ride the rest of the way to the carpark.  Once there, we again hiked to the base, this time the trail came much closer.  The valley wasn’t as impressive to me as the Franz Josef, but the clear blue ice with peaks that reminded me of the hoodoos in Bryce Canyon in Utah were very cool (no pun intended).

After getting a good look we made our way back down the road, admiring the clear mineral waters of a small lake by the road.  The day was heating up a little, and the walk wasn’t arduous.  We saw a small white car heading towards the Fox Glacier and waved its driver, Chrystelle, a French girl who had stayed at the same hostel as us the previous night, and she beeped her horn in recognition.  We were still walking back to the village by the time Chrystelle had finished looking at the glacier and was driving back to town.  She pulled to the side of the road and cheerfully asked us if we would like a ride.  We agreed, and once in the car she offered to let us accompany her as far as Queenstown- we would get our stuff from the hostel, put it in her car, and ride with her to Lake Wanaka that day and on to Queenstown the following morning.  It sounded good to us - we thought it would be nice to avoid another long (and spendy) bus ride, as well as have someone new to chat with along the way.

Our first stop was Lake Matheson where we saw beautiful views of Mt. Cook and Mt. Tasman.  We did the easy one-hour walk around the lake, got to know Chrystelle and talked about why she and we were in New Zealand, then had lunch outside at the small café by the carpark area. 

We made tracks after that, heading south and west toward the coast.  The day was still sunny and warm, and we drove with the windows down listening to warbly (because her tape player was broken) techno versions of American and British pop songs. Think covers of Vanilla Ice blended into The Clash and then Nirvana, followed by The Supremes.
Along the way we had brief, halting conversations in simple English.  Chrys had just started speaking English a few months prior when she came over to New Zealand on a work internship program.  She had learned some English in school, but had never put it into practice until she got to New Zealand.  I thought she did a great job, and appreciated her attempts to learn American ways of saying things. We also asked questions about the French language, but being complete novices, I don’t think we learned much.

As soon as we reached the coast Chrys pulled off the road for the first of many photo stops of the day.  The ocean was clear clear clear, and such a pretty blue green color.  It felt like we could see all the way to Australia, the skies and water were so perfectly clear and beautiful.  The brisk wind whipped past us, but the sun provided warmth.  I’ve never seen ocean the color it was there, that day.  We got back in the car and hastily pulled back onto the road, stopped a little later for another photo, then again at a spot where we did a little hike/walk along the ocean.  The waves forcefully pounded the shore, and swimming seemed like a dangerous impossibility at that beach. 

Soon after the last beach stop we entered the mountains - and we stayed in their shadow for the next 5 days.  The mountains were startling because they seemed to rise up out of nowhere, starting at water level with summits thousands of meters above.  The lakes and mountains seemed to go hand in hand - huge clear lakes with towering snowy peaks above.  The mountains in that part of New Zealand were created by plates instead of volcanoes, so huge spine-like ridges wound their way across the countryside.  We stopped often, getting out each time to gape at the splendor.  Once we crossed a river that was bouncing down a mountainside, the color of soap suds, creating waterfalls over the smooth boulders.  Another time we stopped and hiked about 15 minutes, crossed a swaying steel rope bridge, and ended up at deep blue pools in the middle of the forest. 

Eventually, after much brilliant scenery, we found ourselves at Lake Wanaka - a very upscale town nestled next to a sail boat dotted lake with gorgeous mountains forming a backdrop.  The sun set soon after we arrived, casting a pink tinge on the mountains, lake and fluffy clouds.  We checked into our very nice hostel and went out for delicious and spicy Indian dinner.  As we walked back to the hostel we looked up at the distant stars. They were exceedingly brilliant due to the (thankfully) clear sky and lack of pollution.

That was the most scenic day that we’ve had in New Zealand.  What I appreciated most was the diversity of the landscape.  One minute we were gazing out from lush green cliffs high above a bright turquoise ocean.  A bit later we were in dry scrub brush with Mountain Lupin colored purple, pink and yellow all around and huge gray boulders strewn about like the marbles of a giant.  Then we quickly were at a tranquil, serene lake at the base of sharp, huge mountains, any one of which would be remarkable somewhere else, but in New Zealand is just one of many.

11.11.06      

The next morning we got up early and all piled into the car.  C.J. offered to drive that morning, and it marked his first time shifting a manual transmission car with his left hand.  After a few lurching starts he got the knack and we again on our way.  There were two ways to get to Queenstown, one along the highway that circles the whole South Island, or the second on a smaller mountain pass.  We took the route through the mountains, again marveling at the beauty around every corner.

We arrived in Queenstown about two hours later and drove straight through town and on to Glenorchy, a tiny town located at the road’s end about an hour from Queenstown.  The town was on another lake, at the base of more mountains, and after getting some photos we had some tea and things at a nice little café.  If the road continued south, or if there was a bridge we could have crossed the lake and mountains and driven to Fiordlands National Park.  But it didn’t and there wasn’t, so we turned around and headed back to Queenstown.

Around noon Chrystelle dropped us off at the holiday park we were staying at and left to Te Anau where she would be hiking the four day Milford Track by herself.  We checked in, and then explored Queenstown a bit.  The town was bigger than Lake Wanaka but also situated on a lake with mountains (The Remarkables) surrounding it.  It too was a recreation oriented, mountain town, with lots of sporting good stores and restaurants - it looked like the local commerce was thriving.  We walked the main streets and along the water front and enjoyed the nice day.  Since the weekend was approaching we decided to rent a car and stay in Queenstown for a couple of days of wine tasting all around Central Otago.  We picked up our imported Toyota Corolla (all the warning labels were in Japanese), bought groceries for lunch and dinner and then turned in for the night.

Tags: Destinations, New Zealand, Posts by Bri, Travelogues by Bri, Tag Index

This entry was posted on Friday, November 17th, 2006 at 6:22 am and is filed under Destinations, New Zealand, Posts by Bri, Travelogues by Bri. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.