My final port of call in New Zealand, Christchurch. The garden city or as my friend more affectionately calls it, the City of Construction Bollards which are found on almost every street and corner. The month flew and somehow I found myself in Christchurch at the end of my New Zealand adventure having saidgoodbye to my Stray family again and waiting outside the Museum for my friend Shay to pick me up.

From Christchurch, Shay was living in the city at the time of the earthquake and as we strolled through the city on that first evening he pointed out where things used to be, shared stories of the buildings that are still standing and what it was like being there during the disaster. The city was without electricity for three weeks and had no toilets or running water for two. Everyone was given 15min in the grocery store to get water and food so that people didn’t stock pile. It is oddly eerie going by a brand new building and turning a corner to find the next boarded up, windows broken and curtains blowing in the wind. There was the building where the stairs collapsed all the way down so people used curtains tied together to climb out of windows. The hotel across the city where a homeless man hid himself when they evacuated spending the following six months living on the top floors in style listening to customer iPods, drinking from mini bars and wearing plush bathrobes and slippers. Shay’s friend who was working as an electrician on a job in the centre walked out of the building only to find that the awning of the building across the way had squashed his van moments before. Coming from a city where in my life time, the closest thing to anything like that was Juan, the xx scale hurricane that left Halifax in uprooted and without power for a week or so, it is hard to comprehend and imagine a natural disaster to the scale in which Christchurch got hit.

A lot of people that I met during my trip called Christchurch the Broken City and with a quick scan of the city I can see why one would say that. There is a lot of rubble, abandoned and destroyed buildings, empty lots in the city centre but the more you wander around and look past the destruction caused by the 2010 earthquake you see an incredibly vibrant and innovative city putting itself back together. The government brought in world class street artists to decorate building facades, the city centre mall, Re:Start is made out of brightly coloured construction containers and they built a temporary cathedral out of cardboard and that’s just the beginning.

However over the two and a bit days that I spent there I fell in love with the city. I loved the old buildings that had survived the quake, the bandaged ones which didn’t quite make it, the river that runs through the town, the Botanical Gardens – the largest in Australiasia and has an incredibly beautiful rose garden. I was expecting the Queen of Hearts or her knights to peer around a hedge at any moment. And of course the container mall! It was the most Christmassy thing I had seen my whole trip, had some great quirky shops, a really yummy pizza shop and arguably according to Shay, a Greek Slovaki van called Dimitris, which makes the best Slovaki’s in the world. I must admit they were pretty tasty and the queue in front of them would suggest the rest of Christchurch agrees. I adored colourful New Regent that made me feel like I had just walked onto a television set and introduced me to Mrs Higgins Oven Fresh Cookies. Try their peanut butter and chocolate chip ones. So delicious! The quirky little bars and cafes popping up all over the city. I was recommended C1 Espresso by a couple of people so as I love cafes and am now always looking for a good coffee I sussed it out on my day of wandering and getting lost. To find it, just look for the statue of the guy who is waving to the world on top of a building. It is a large wooden and brass room filled with clear tubes criss crossing over the ceiling. The purpose of these are to shoot sliders and chips to various tables around the restaurant. I watched a four year old boy receive his air compressed packet of food at the table next to me and the look of on his face was pure joy. If you don’t go for the chips and slider option they have an incredible selection of teas and very yummy muffins. Or try Strangers Lane, a bar where I met Shay for some delicious cocktails later that day that is a laneway converted bar. Oh and then there is the Cantebury Museum. They were showing an exhibition on Divinci and by the end of it I think I walked away with a small crush. There were models of his inventions or thoughts such as his boat shoes which make an appearance in the movie “Ever After” where Divinci plays a sort of fairy god mother to Cinderella. But mostly I loved the reinventing of the city, the people I met and their take on the city and what they are making from the ruins.

On my last day in Christchurch I visited the outlying suburb of Lyttelton where the first settlement of Christchurch began but when they realised it was too small of an area of the people took their belongings and crossed over and down the hill range and built Christchurch. It is a charming port town with a high street that looks slightly western and a great short coastal walk that goes past Cass Bay ending on Pony Point. Funnily enough there were two horses kept at the top of the point, although I highly doubt that they are there solely for the name.

I manoeuvred my way back to Shays between public transport and walking and met him at his local for a pint or two of a local Pilsner before we headed back home to create my last meal in New Zealand. He made a scrumptious Moroccan Dish and I made an equally yummy, if I do say so myself, apple crumble with walnut and maple ice cream on the side. Of course, this was all done over a lovely bottle of wine, great chats and away the evening flew until I looked at the clock and suddenly realised I would really turn into a pumpkin if I didn’t at least have two hours of sleep. It was a short shut eye before my alarm sounded at quarter to three. Bleary eyed, bags packed, and airport shuttle (not quite a golden carriage) waiting I headed to the airport, saying a silent goodbye to the broken city that I admired so much and the country which was medicine for my soul and imagination. I was off to the second last chapter of my adventures in the South West of Australia before I headed back up over the Equator and East to Nova Scotia.

Every road is paved with good intentions, and my last morning in Kaikoura I had every intention to rise at the crack of dawn and capture a sunrise. Well the alarm went off at the ungodly hour, I peered through the curtains, saw cloud cover and rolled back over. In retrospect, for too long, but it was a very comfortable bed and I was on vacation no? The evening before a group of us had walked up to the look off to catch the sunset. On top of the old water tower, it gives you a panoramic view over the peninsula. It’s a nice half hour walk from Top Spot and the view at the top added yet another reason for Kaikoura to burrow its way into my heart. It was breath taking before the sun set and as it did, the world turned a million hues of gold, green, blue and purple and it grew even more so.

By nine our stomachs were growling so we headed to Coopers Catch. A quaint fish and chips shop on the high street and local favourite. Some argued the best in New Zealand. I couldn’t resist the scallops though and was not disappointed. My scallops and chips came bundled in heavy white paper, warm with steam billowing through the layers. The scallops were plump, juicy and full of flavour and the batter crispy and not greasy. They were my first scallops in I can’t remember how long and I saved every bite. The others tried the fish and chips, blue cod and whiting. Both types melted in your mouth and obviously were fresh from the sea. I went to bed with a very happy tummy that evening, feeling substantially better than I had that morning.

As I missed the sunrise, the only other thing left on my hit list was the Peninsula walk over looking South Bay and the Seal colonies. You need anywhere between 2.5 to 4 hours to do the hike, depending on your speed and how many photos or moments you take. I stayed in bed longer than intended that morning so I didn’t get to dilly dally as much as I would have liked or go down to Whale Bay, an old whalers route down to the beach which is a 20min return off shoot from the main walk. A wooden staircase leads down to the beach where the seal colony really begins. There are millions of seals. Standing looking over the cliffs there are hundreds of little black spots as far as the eye can see. SE aren’t rocks. They are New Zealand Fur Seals lining the shoreline, sleeping on rocks, playing in the tidal pools, and waddling along the beach and oh the sound! Their barks rang loud and clear up over the cliffs.

Most begin the walk from the main road and car park at the seal colony and head towards the South Bay; I did the walk back to front. Coming in from the back roads over the top of the hill down to the South Bay and then back up. Doing it this way, while you can’t get lost, you can miss part of the path, as I did, as it isn’t brilliantly signposted. At one point the path branches off, one leading to the residential area, and the other going along the cliffs. Somehow, I missed that and ended up along the beach in the residential area. The benefit of doing it backwards and a little earlier than most it meant that at times it was just me, the birds and the vast expanse of the Southern Ocean.

As I walked back to Top Spot, one of my reasons for doing the walk backwards came into view, the Sunday market. It was a petite market but there was a good bit of variety from local honey, cheese, wine to artisan jewellery. I tried a nut slice made with local nuts and local honey. Dessert before lunch.

From there It was time to grab my bags, grab a quick bit to eat before my bus to Christchurch and say goodbye to Kaikoura. I went to The Craypot and tried their open faced BLT with added cheese on top, perfectly melted to hold it all together. It hit the spot as I sat on their balcony taking in the little town which has firmly lodged itself into my heart.

 

 

T’was a wee bit of a rude awakening when my alarm went off the morning after my evening of wine and crayfish. I pulled myself out of bed and together and headed off to find coffee and Whale Watch Kaikoura. While I was super excited at the prospect of seeing whales, the flashing sign at the check in desk for my tour reading ‘seasickness warning’ didn’t fill me with enthusiasm. The sun was out though so that was a good first step and the lady at the desk said the boats before us had spotted a whale so our captain would take us directly to the site. Things were looking up.

Despite a 7:45am check-in we didn’t actually leave the building to head to the docks until quarter past eight after a quick video on local wildlife and safety briefing. Ushered onto a bus we were transferred down to the docks where we were introduced to the crew. Our MC for the trip had a great sense of humour and chatted away about the whale population, explained how to deal with seasickness and the do’s and don’ts for the trip. Unfortunately, his tips on how to avoid seasickness didn’t help me as the boat felt like we were on a roller coaster. Murphy’s Law, I had also sat next to a rather handsome gentleman. Thankfully the captain spotted a whale and we were allowed to go out on the deck. Fresh sea air and of course a whale, both medicine. It was a giant Sperm Whale just chilling on the top of the ocean, blowing out water every now and then and according to our MC probably digesting or preparing for a dive. True to his word about 10min later the Sperm Whale dove beneath the waves tipping his tale out for a wave before diving to the depths below and allowing us to capture that classic whale tale pose.

Reluctantly, I headed back indoors with everyone bracing for the return journey when we were joined by a pod of 200/300 Dusky Dolphins, aptly nIcknamed the acrobats of the ocean! Not an exaggeration. It was incredible! My seasickness quickly evaporating as I watched in awe at their skills, grace and beauty as they raced beside the boat, performing back flips, twirls, dives and flops in front of us. Magic!

 

Fifteen minutes later we bid our fellow travellers adieu and turned our attention to the thousands of New Zealand fur seals that live on the Kaikoura peninsula. In some cases they watched us curiously from their perch, others couldn’t have cared less as they sunbathed or waddled along the rocks. After seeing them this close up I have decided that baby fur seals really just look like baby bears with flippers and should actually be called Sea Bears.

 

All in all, the Dolphins made the trip. It was great to see a whale but when I put the encounter against my first whale watching experience when I was a child off the coast of Five Islands where we saw a pod of humpback whales it is hard to compare.

We arrived back on land and I lazily wandered through the town dipping into all the cute knick-knack shops wishing I could buy everything. Eventually, I found myself on Kaikoura’s blue grey pebbly beach and plonked myself down, feeling slightly like a seal revelling in the sun, soaking up the view and thoroughly enjoying my carrot, apple and walnut muffin with cream cheese icing twirled on top from the Pot Belly Bakery.

A Whale, Dolphins, Sea Bears, window perusing and a delicious cupcake on a beautiful beach. Not a bad way to get over a hangover and the evening only promised to help improve it more with a sunset with a view and some of New Zealand’s best fish and chips.

I had been planning on bypassing Aoraki Mount Cook and then I looked at my pictures, one of which is my favourite of the whole trip and knew I had to backtrack and share a little bit.

It was wild and windy when we arrived with gale force winds, horizontal rain and mist covered mountains. It did slightly let up the following morning but the rain and mist soon returned, thankfully the wind not as much. If you’d stood outside, the evening we arrived, you would have ended up like one of the possible governesses in Mary Poppins. Not a chance of going out to explore. I hunkered down and hoped that the morning would be fine enough for me to head out and explore.

I was in luck and rose to find the sun streaming through the windows, didn’t last long but it was enough to make my decision to stay another night and get out the door to begin the Hooker Valley Track. I walked from The Hermitage Hotel to the official start of the hike adding an extra hour to the 4hour walk. Walking between the Southern Alps was humbling. I had a full rainbow arching over the valley floor as I ambled my way to the start of the walk.

Aoraki, translating to Cloud in the Sky, according to Mauri mythology is the eldest of the three sons of Raki, the Sky. When Aoraki and this two brothers were heading back to their homeland their waka (canoe) flipped over and the three brothers clambered on top of the canoe and waited to be rescued. However, time passed and the brothers grew old as they waited, becoming the Southern Alps. Aoraki became the tallest of the mountains in the range and is the tallest mountain in New Zealand.

The walk to the viewpoint was completely worth the rain, wind and swing bridges along the route. Smokey coloured rivers, local flowers spotting the landscape, the snow capped MacKenzie range with Aoraki in front of you was epic. I even saw my first Hare.

After the Hooker Valley Walk I did the short Kea Point walk, which is only an hour return from the parking lot. It winds through shrubbery and a gradual incline until you are standing in front of the Mueller Glacier moraine wall. Then later that afternoon once the next Stray Bus arrived we all visited the viewing point at the base of the Tasman Glacier where you get a panoramic view over the whole valley floor and the village.

I left the following morning with the STRAY bus to head to Rangitata for the evening so glad that I had stayed the extra day there and had the opportunity to view the spectacular landscape that is the McKenzie Range and Hooker Valley. I can only imagine what it would be like on a clear day!

 

The doors opened and a rush of fresh salty air flooded the bus. I was instantaneously in love. We arrived into Kaikoura after a very long 7hr drive from Rangatata. Kaikoura to me, is Wanaka’s big sister. Both as relaxed and gorgeous as the other but where Wanaka has the mountains meeting a giant lake, Kaikoura has the mountains flowing down to the ocean with an abundance of sea life. It is captivating. The drive into Kaikoura is alongside towering rock cliffs with the occasional tunnel carved through the rock face making you think thin as you pass through. It gives you the sense that you are going to some secret village and in a sense you are, when the first European Whaling station was founded in 1843 the only way to reach it was by boat before the main road was put in.

The ocean is Kaikoura’s playground, with the main draw being the local wildlife. I had whale watching booked for the following morning so my first afternoon there I thought I would try my hand at fishing. Unfortunately, Gerry, our fisherman, decided it was too rough to take us out so he set two of his fishermen out to collect us some live Crayfish. Kaikoura, translated from Mauri literally translates to eat crayfish and that is exactly what we did that night.

Crayfish brought in, we were told to meet the crew at Gerry’s house where we would start the evening with some local wine, Brie, crackers, fresh sashimi and crisps with a supposedly very New Zealand dip and most importantly learn how to cook Crayfish. None of us were complaining. Gerry welcomed us with open arms into his 60’s style home, ushering us through into his back garden where we chatted away, met the locals who had dropped by to jump in on the feast and waited for the two fishermen to suffocate the catch. Which is horrible but I think it is better than what is normally done with lobsters and just pop them into boiling water.

Crayfish are strangely beautiful creatures with hues of purple and red on their shells, as if speckled by paint and two large spears instead of the large pincers that their cousin the lobster has. We were told how they’re fished, and how to tell the difference between males and females so that if we were fishing them and caught a female carrying eggs we would know to throw it back. Then we were asked to choose a crayfish and bestow them with the name of a person who wasn’t our favourite person in the world and then with all the conviction of fevered church goer cry their name and put John Doe into the steam pot. It felt a bit like an odd therapy session sharing war stories and everyone else giving you their good riddance.

Onto cooking, there are several ways you can cook a crayfish. You can flay them and then BBQ them smothering them with garlic butter and herbs, boil them or do them how we did – steam them. Steamed, they take about 10-15 minutes and then they become very red. Once they were steamed we hung them tail side up to drain the excess water out and then began our lesson on preparation.

• Step 1: Take the crayfish and flip it onto its back
• Step 2: With a sharp knife cut somewhat on an angle from top to tail. You should be able to crack open the shell at this point and take the tail meat out quite easily. This will allow you to take out the lower intestine or as were told the “poo cord” which runs diagonally through the tail.
• Step 3: Clean out its innards. Although you can eat the gizzard if you wish, we were told it’s not very tasty.
• Step 4: Snap off the legs and tuck in.

Somehow, we managed to consume 18 crayfish, and a good bit of delicious local organic wine. By the end of the evening I am not sure whether I was drunk on wine or crayfish.

 

It was a fantastic evening and it only got better as we walked back to our hostel stopping for chips and a scrumptious salted caramel ice cream from Poppy’s Real Home Made Ice Cream. A cooking lesson, great food and the opportunity to spend the evening talking to some genuine salt of the earth New Zealanders

New Zealand Crisp Dip: To make the New Zealand dip, which also went really well with the crayfish, mix together one tub of reduced cream or sour cream, one packet of onion soup mix and fresh parsley or dill.

Queenstown – the adventure capital of the world or home of the Cookie Muncher Cookie Bar, Mrs. Ferg’s Gelateria and The Winery. From the sounds of this one would think I only spent my time in Queenstown eating and drinking however I did actually take in the surroundings on two great walks right on Queenstown’s doorstep – The Queenstown Hill and the Frankton Walking Trail.

The original goal was for Jack, Helen and I to hike up Lomond bright and early but the previous evening’s shenanigans left us feeling slightly less energetic so instead we decided on the Queenstown Hill trail for the afternoon. First stop though was the Cookie Muncher Cookie Bar which sold freshly made Cookie Time Cookies. Cookie Time Cookies, according to my friend AJ, are the best cookies in the world! Reason enough for me to find and test them, so we followed the aroma of freshly baked cookies wafting down the street and arrived outside a vibrantly coloured hole in the wall cookie bar. Inside the walls are plastered with pictures of their bright red monster mascot, shelves are covered in cookie tins and cookie flavoured ice cream and fresh made cookies stare at you willing you to indulge. Over the two days I tried three. Between 6-7pm it’s “Cookie Time” meaning two for one. Then if you really want a cookie but don’t want to pay for it you can sing for one between 7-8pm at “Cookie Karaoke”. Day one I tried a chocolate salted caramel cookie. Day two I went for the Blueberry Hazelnut Crumble and Chocolate Fudge Brownie. The blueberry hazelnut crumble was my melt in your mouth good! They had captured the taste of homemade blueberry crumble perfectly without it being overly sweet.

With cookies bought and energy in stock we headed up to Queenstown Hill. It’s basically straight up, and bound to get your heart pumping but it’s not a difficult walk. You just need to be wary of the possible gale force winds which will try to run off with your sunglasses or hats. Beginning in a Fir Forest and winding its way up to open grassland you arrive at the top with a spectacular 350° view of your surroundings – Queenstown, mountains and Lake Wakatipu battle. And if you don’t’ want to go all the way to the top you can still take in most of the view from the Basket of Dreams, a weaved metal sculpture that was created for the millennium. A great place to have a moment of zen.

Later that evening after the Ferg Burger experience and a trip to the cinema for Mockingjay I required a bit of comfort. I had been told as a Hot Chocolate fan, that I needed to try Mrs Ferg’s Gelateria’s hot chocolate. It was dark, cold and I had just seen a rather depressing film, what other excuse does one need. I wasn’t disappointed. It was my perfect hot chocolate – rich thick melted chocolate that warmed you to the bone. I took one sip and wanted to “ring out the bells and fling out my arms… to sing out the news. I have found [it},” a real hot chocolate! It went down a treat, lifted me up and I spread the word.

The next morning, to balance later indulgences Steph, Mel, Katy and I took to the Frankton Arm. A leisurely bike or walking path that runs along Lake Wakatipu connecting Frankton to Queenstown and can be combined to visit Kawarau Falls Dam and bridge. We got as far as the little café where I fell in love with a puppy and had to make a detour to ask what breed it was. It looked like a giant teddy bear!

Next stop, cue The Winery, Queenstown’s cellar door. I will rarely pass up an opportunity for a good glass of Marlborough but I had missed out on stopping off in the region so this was the next best thing. The Winery offers over 80 types of wines, champagnes, ports and sherries to choose from that you might not normally be offered from a wineries cellar door and you get to pour them yourself…sort of. In essence you put a pre-paid card into the slot for the wine you want to try, select the glass size and press pour. Each wine has a small description to aid you in your decision process. Claire and I treated ourselves to a Petite Cheese board to go with our wines and plonked ourselves down in the big comfy leather chairs. My top two favourites from the seven I tested were  the Sauvignon Blanc Semillon from Pegasus Bay Winery. And Johanneshof Cellar’s Marlborough Gerurztramner

It was a cold and rainy evening my last day in Queenstown. Eight of us huddled around a table in Base over a warming dinner of Butter Chicken Curry and iced coffee before we headed out for one last hurrah in between packing. Tomorrow would be an early start again for me with more goodbyes before heading northward towards Mt. Cook. Obviously, I had to end my stay with another quick visit to Mrs Ferg’s as I deemed it too early for a burger although it was a tough decision. I sprinted over before the bus took off and nabbed a hot chocolate with a warmed cream cheese, sundried tomato and herbed muffin. Altogether not a bad way to start an early morning adventure and brush off the goodbye blues.

“No filter!” Rob exclaimed as he enthusiastically thrust his phone in front of my face. The screen showed emerald blue waters with craggy mountains blanketed in rainforest rising out of the waters. It was Milford Sound in the Fiordland National Park. A jewel of natural beauty; it is one of the only fiords easily accessible to the public. Kipling, the author of the Jungle Book, even declared it the “eighth wonder of the world.” The park itself is renowned for the Milford Track, a four day tramp which is up there amongst the list of the best walks in the world and I’ve been told you need to reserve a spot months in advance if you want to do it as it is so popular.

Carebears, tigers and dinosaurs view Milford Sound

majestic waterfalls teem down the sides of the mountains

Milford Sound was the number one itinerary item in my books for STRAY’s tour of the Deep South. A three day excursion which leaves and returns to Queenstown hitting Milford Sound, Invercargill and Stewart Island if you wish. We were leaving Queenstown at the crack of dawn to get there to catch the noon boat tour. Alarms were rudely set and we all arrived blurry eyed on the bus ready for shut eye until we reached our first pit stop, Te Anou, a small and quaint town just before you drive into the wilderness of the park. There, the ferry tickets to Stewart Island would be bought if you were popping over on day 2, picking up groceries for the evening and a much needed coffee. The charming café that we were told made great coffees was the Sandfly Café and it’s true! They make a great mocha and the best cookie caramel square that I had while in New Zealand. These are a hybrid of a millionaire shortbread squares and a chocolate chip cookie! What a delicious discovery!  Te Anou, is also home to Miles Better Pies, where one can find some of the best pies in New Zealand, according to Pacman. Although I didn’t try them as I was stuffing myself with a cookie caramel square, Jack and Jen both can attest to the claim as they had one from the shop.

We arrived at Milford Sound after witnessing Kea’s and their love of car antennas. We were waiting to go through the Homer Tunnel and in the car park Keas had taken residence on top of a few cars who were also waiting to go through. They are very pretty birds but definitely bold! Pacman got us to the Pride of Milford, a large catamaran that would take us up and down the fiord, in time for our noon tour. The tour gives you running commentary as you chug along and gets you up close and personal to some of the larger waterfalls in the fiord. It was unfortunately gray, windy and cold but Pacman was prepared for anyone who might not have enough layers and provided a whole selection of onsies. Santa, Reindeer, Tiger and a Dinosaur all walked onto the boat with us. While the weather might not have been the best, it didn’t take away from the majestic beauty of the place. Because of the rainfall over the last few days the mountains were covered in waterfalls that magically only appear when it rains. It is so impressive, if only for the sheer size of the mountains surrounding you. You are completely dwarfed, a feeling which is hard to capture in pictures alone.

One of bonuses of doing the Deep South tour with STRAY is that they stay at Gunn’s Camp. Nestled into the national park it resembles a mining camp, complete with little wooden cabins, some with wooden stoves and a giant mess hall with board games and puzzles.. It was originally for the workers who built the road and tunnel into Milford Sound. Supposedly the night sky is unbelievable there as it is an official dark zone, of course, the rain that had patiently waited till we exited Milford Sound came down in torrents so there was no star gazing that evening. We did have a delicous homemade comfort meal of bangers and mash though with enough mashed potatoes to probably have stopped the famine in Ireland.

The next day was a travel day heading down to Invercargill, the Southernmost city in New Zealand stopping off at Mirror Lake and The Chasm. In Invercargill a few of us would take the ferry over to Stewart Island to see if they could find the illusive Kiwi bird, and the rest of us would try the most southerly McDonald’s in the world, take in the Caitlins and go to the most southerly point in New Zealand.

I had chosen to stay on the mainland and because of that we got a coveted leisurely meeting time of 9:30am on the 3^rd day. It was a great treat. As we headed out towards the Caitlins for the day Pacman shared his love and stories of the little city as it was his home town. Our first stop was Waipapa Point the start of the Caitlins coming from the South, and home to a lonely wooden lighthouse that was built after one of the country’s worst civilian shipwrecks with 131 lives lost in the 1800s and a lot of fat content sea lions. Jack came across one hiding in the hills and we quickly named him Stanley, snapping away as he showed off his flippers and waddling skills.  Next, down a very long and windy windblown road there lies Slope Point. The most southerly point in NZ where one is only 4803km away from the South Pole! Kind of cool! Of course we took the mandatory sign post photograph and then booted it back to the bus to escape the wind! Lunch was eaten overlooking Curio Bay looking for dolphins. Although we never saw any I did get to check off another ocean off my list as Claire, Katy and I dipped our feet into the frigid waters of the Southern Ocean.

By this time our time was running short so we headed back towards Invercargill to pick up the Islanders from the ferry at Sterling Point. We picked up our missing crew, picked up Domino’s for dinner and hit the road bound to Queenstown to meet up for one last soiree with our crew from Nippers Bus.

 

 

By the time I reached Queenstown, The Fergburger had reached an almost fabled status in my head. I had first heard about these supposedly unparalleled burgers from Queenstown eight months previously from my friend Abi – fellow traveller and burger connoisseur. She had travelled through NZ just before coming to Melbourne and when I had asked her about her trip, the Fergburger was included in her list of highlights. In fairness, if you speak to anyone who has been to or lives in New Zealand you do tend to get asked whether you have been to Queenstown and tried a Fergburger.

There was a queue winding down Shotover Street from the front doors of Fergburger almost 24hrs a day everyday while I was in Queenstown and I’m pretty sure this is a regular occurrence. I was so excited to have one however, I decided I would wait until my return visit to Queenstown a few days later. When we arrived in Queenstown the first time it was only for a night out for drinks and goodbyes to our Stray Bus with Nipper as our captain. Once you reach Queenstown, the buses tend to change hands and you lose/pick up new travellers as people stay on in Queenstown to fill their boots with adrenaline sports or explore the Deep South, as I did. As dinner was already sorted for that evening and we had to leave at a rather indecent hour in the morning after an evening out and too early for a burger for me I held off until I could properly savour the meal.

It was decided that we would test the wares before we went to see the final Hunger Games film – Mockingjay. It was a Monday evening and the queue was already four shops deep. You have two choices, you can call in your order for pick up or you can wait in the queue. I think either option takes around the same amount of time. We ended up calling in our order after a bit of standing but I think the wait time was the same, except we didn’t have to stand in the queue. We just sat basking in the sun on the benches waiting hungrily to be called. 45 minutes passed and our number was up. We picked up our order at the little window, our taste buds salivating from the smell and thought of what was packaged up in the large brown bag Jen held in her arms and headed down to the waterfront where we happily settled ourselves down in a corner and dished out the goods.

I chose the “Tropical Swine”. A perfectly grilled, not overdone, juicy 100% NZ beef burger in a toasted sesame seed bun topped with streaky bacon, pineapple, lettuce, tomato, red onion, aioli and tomato relish. There is also supposed to be cheddar cheese but I decided to switch mine to Brie. It was an excellent choice if I do say so myself. There were about eight of us and between us we tested a good selection of the menu and I can hands down say that everything was delectably scrumptious, including their fries which despite being stuffed we still managed to polish off. No one wanted to leave left overs. The Fergburger lived up to all expectations which is pretty impressive because they were pretty high. So now if anyone asks me what to do in New Zealand, my trip highlights or even where one can find a delectable burger my thoughts roam over to the burger shop on Shotover street in Queenstown to a little place called Fergburger having forever raised the bar on any future burgers to come.

 

I don’t remember jumping. My pictures show me in an almost perfect swan dive, arms stretched, and legs straight but I don’t remember a thing. I hobbled/hopped up to the ledge, my hands gripped together, my face a whiter shade of pale than a scared ghost and tried to control my breathing. Repeating my mantra “everything be alright. I’ll love it. Just breathe. The adrenaline rush will kick in and I will come up glowing like everyone else had.”

Then they said it… “1, 2, 3, Jump”

New Zealand. The birth place of the bungy and adventure tourism. Inspired by the tradition of land-diving practiced by the inhabitants of the Pentecost Island in the South Pacific. Men, to prove to their bravery jump from a ladder like structure attached to a rope head first.  Several other people around the world have decided to recreate the experience since then, such as the Oxford University’s Dangerous Sports Club but it was AJ Hacket and Henry van Asch in 1988 who were the first to commercialize it, creating the world’s official first bungee jump at Kawarau Bridge, just outside of Queenstown. Since then, bungy jumping sites have popped up all over the world at a range of heights and with a range of experiences included. For example, at the Ledge Bungy in Queenstown you can jump off the bridge attempting a handstand or back flip, or with a garbage can over your head. I took my leap at Bloukrans Bridge with Face Adrenalin along the Garden Route in South Africa. The bridge is is the highest in Africa and at the time was the the highest commercial jump in the world at 216m high.

Bloukrans Bridge, SA

Kawarau Bridge, NZ

Queenstown though is at the heart of it all. Kawarau Bridge runs over the Kawarau Gorge, a rugged landscape with an icy blue river flowing down the middle. The sun was beaming when we pulled up to the visitors centre and headed down the winding ramp into the building where we were shown an invigorating movie on the history of bungee jumping. Then comes the moment of decision. To jump or not to jump. The jump is the smallest of the Queenstown bungys at 43m.; still tall enough to make you have second thoughts though. What is cool about this site is that you can request to be dunked in the river if you wish. From my bus, there were around nine who jumped that day.  All very brave in my books.

Throughout the Stray tour the main question was, “Are you going to do a bungy jump?” It’s on Nipper’s list of must dos in New Zealand. And the views are pretty amazing from the bridges. For me though, I had already added it to and checked it off the bucket list the same day in South Africa. No need to repeat it.” When I did the tour of the Garden Route it had been the same question. There were six of us on it and almost everyone minus myself planned on taking the leap including our guide. Jumping off a bridge attached to an elastic band had never appealed to me.  Jumping out of a plane. Yes. But bungee jumping. No. And literally until we arrived at Bloukrans Bridge it was still a no. Then my perception of distance failed me. I looked at the bridge and thought mmm well it doesn’t look too bad. Our guide, who was in his mid-40’s was going to do it so why couldn’t I? I suddenly thought, “it doesn’t look that scary…” Another girl on the tour, Maggie,  was terrified, it was her biggest fear but her best friend was doing it. Maggie was going to face her fear so I decided to face mine and provide support by doing it with her. In retrospect I don’t think I managed much of that. So decision made, we were in it together. The butterflies began to flutter as the crew at Face Adrenaline weighed and fitted me. They grew exponentially as we headed over the mesh under bridge to the middle platform where we would jump, until it felt like I had pterodactyls in my stomach.

Back in New Zealand, Steph, Melissa, Melanie, Rich, Ceidre, and the others got themselves fitted, weighed and branded and headed to the middle of the bridge to wait their turn. I watched from the balcony with the rest of the crew, breath held, cheering/screaming encouragement as each of them went to the plank. Making sure that I had Stephanie’s camera at the ready to capture the fall. My tummy felt their nerves as they took the plunge but I also felt a bit of mom pride and a fleeting thought of now that really doesn’t look that bad. Each one came up charged with energy and grateful for the staff who helped them through the jump. It was almost enough to get my to try again and then I remembered my post jump.

My first conscious memory after I jumped was the start of the recoil. Thankfully, due to the height of the bridge, the recoil isn’t actually bad but my brain in panic mode kept reminding myself not to stiffen up, relax and stay loosey goosey otherwise I might hurt myself. I think there might have been a few flowery words thrown in there but we’ll skip those.

My heart pounded through my chest and my legs and feet ached from tensing because to me it felt like they were about to fall through the foam casing holding them. They forgot to tell me that minor detail – that it would feel like I was going to slip through but there was no way it would actually happen…minor detail. As I dangled over the canyon willing and waiting for them to pick me up. I thought, open your eyes Lia, this is silly, look around at the view it will help with the disorientation. I peeled open an eyelid took in the rocks below and the distance in between and quickly shut my eyes. Nope, fear of heights had not dissipated during my decent. What felt like eternity and a day was in actuality only about 75 seconds; my rescuer arrived to take me back to the bridge. He took one look at me and said, “You don’t like heights do you?” I just shook my head. Once at the top I posed for the mandatory loved it/survived it photo and promptly collapsed into my friends arms and cried from relief and amazement that I did it.

Get them off, get them off, just breathe

I survived

For me, it wasn’t my cup of tea, but for most, I can honestly say it’s a check off the old bucket list and they’re so happy they did it. Ceidre was in shock for a while but slowly began to glow and I’m pretty sure signed up for the Nevis, the highest bungee in NZ at 134m. Maggie conquered her fear and came up loving it, as did everyone else that jumped with me that day. So whether in New Zealand, South Africa or elsewhere about to take the leap, I’ll leave it to you to ask yourself, “To jump or not to jump. That is the question”

The crazy group who jumped at Bloukrans with me

Our new bus on the way to Queenstown

A small pitstop by the sea

The road between Franz Josef and Wanaka is a windy and beautiful one. There are times when you’re so far in the middle of no where that even modern day technology fails you and there is no reception. We happened to be going through one such spot when our little bus started coughing and wheezing and really not sounding healthy at all. And then she stopped. We luckily landed on the crest of a curve where there was an area to pull over and a nice view of the sea. Of course, we all had our opinions on how to handle the situation but really our only option was to flag someone down and ask them to call Stray as soon as they hit reception. Nipper took to the highway as our first knight in shining armour and began flagging people down. One lady drove off as soon as we got excited that someone was stopping, one group stopped thinking we were looking at an amazing view and then finally we got a tour bus who knew the area and a mechanic 20km down the road. He left us to find reception, make the calls and we got comfortable waiting in the sun.

Our second knight in shinning armour arrived an hour later and decided it was the turbo shaft. We could drive, albeit slowly, to the garage and there was a cafe/ bar down the street where we could go while we waited for a new bus. So off we went, me quoting “The Little Train that Could”, “I think I can, I think I can…” as we chugged along.

Fate landed us on the doorstep of the Frontier Café and Bar at the Heartland World Heritage Hotel in Haast, where I highly doubt see more than 5 people in the run of an afternoon during off season, let alone 40 some hungry and thirsty backpackers in one go. We caused a bit of a kerfuffle but they took us in giving us regulars price for drink and got the oven stoked and took care of us. As did Stray giving us each a tab by way of apology as we wouldn’t be making it to Wanaka till late that evening and leaving bright and early to head to Queenstown the next morning.

Our final knight in shining armour arrived at sunset riding a brand new bus! Pacman had drove all the way from Queenstown to collect us and bring us back. We were all pretty happy by this point so the bus transformed to a party bus with everyone singing and dancing the night away.

The next morning my alarm went off like a hole in the head at 6:30am. I was determined to see a bit of this town that everyone said was beautiful and I only had till quarter to 10 to do it or I would be hitching my way to Queenstown. The sun was streaming through the windows of the kitchen and the view from the balcony was amazing. I didn’t waste much time and headed straight to the lake!

Wanaka is a small mountain town situated on the large crystal blue lake, Lake Wanaka. It’s backdrop – the Southern Alps. The air was so fresh and clean, my surroundings so picturesque I wanted to break into the Sound of Music. As I made my way to the shoreline I happed across Kai Whakapai Cafe and Bar. A sweet cafe that happened to be open and treated myself to a Hot Chocolate and Museli bar.

There is a famous tree which grows near the shoreline of Lake Wanaka. It is known as the Wanaka Tree and must be one of the most photographed trees in New Zealand. It grows crooked and twisted out of the water, making shade for any fish passing by. It’s green leaves a vibrant contrast against the snow capped mountains. I of course took photos.

Reluctantly, when my time was up I turned around on the path and headed back to the Base Hostel. It was time to head to the fabled Queenstown making a pit stop at the 45th parallel and Mrs Jones Fruit Orchard in Cronwell. There you can find every fruit imaginable including golden kiwi which I had never heard of before and freshly made fruit ice cream . Under Nipper and Pacmans recommendations I got a scoop of honeycomb and Boysenberry ice cream in a waffle cone. Delicious!

So despite the hiccup at the beginning of the story, in the end, alls well that ends well. And it did. Three shining Knights, a visit to one of the most beautiful towns I have ever been, stood at a parallel, ate delicious home made ice cream and watched a bunch of people bungee off the Kawarau Bridge. The very first bungee in the world. Not to shabby for a hiccup.