The crossing is nothing amazing - mostly because we can see about a metre ahead, and most of that's grey! And in Wellington it's blowing a gale - unsuprising for those who know the city, but a bit of a shock when I almost get taken out and slammed into a building as a strong gust pummels into my rucksack! Still, I manage to navigate the city buses without any further incidents and finally reach the YHA, a massive 300-bed hostel situated almost on the waterfront, just off Courtenay Place and a stone's throw from Cuba Street. The area is generally viewed (well, by guidebooks, I'm sure there's another area far away from the tourist hordes which is far more hidden and cooler) as the 'alternative' quarter of Wellington, crammed with cafes, vintage clothes shops, surf shops and normally busy on a sunny day with buskers and people hanging about on the benches or at the pavement cafe tables.

I chill out in the reading room that night - the hostel is packed with people sheltering from the sudden onset of monsoon rain in addition to the pummelling winds - taking a moment to mourn the loss of my towel, which I've just realised is still hanging on the back of my dorm door in Picton...

written by  LizIsHere on March 24, 2010 from Wellington, New Zealand
from the travel blog: New Zealand & Australia 2010
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Unfortunately when I arrive it's raining and Nikki the owner has gone away to Wellington for a few days, so it looks like I'll never get to see her fire poi show. But still, coming back to JR feels like coming home in a way. I know where everything is, how it all works - I even have the same bed in the same room. The Swedish WWOOFer Per has left, but two Scottish-English cousins have replaced him, and they're a lot of fun. When I arrive people are juggling inside, out of the rain.

I have two nights at the Juggler's before catching the ferry Wellington, which can best be summed up with: juggling, ice cream, conversation, and music. Perfect before heading to cosmopolitan busyness of Wellington.

written by  LizIsHere on March 23, 2010 from Picton, New Zealand
from the travel blog: New Zealand & Australia 2010
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We also pass a town which has shrunk so much that businesses there have started to amalgamate - the post office in the gas station, for example. The best blend has to be the local butcher having a side-line as the local undertaker though! Apparently in a newspaper interview he stressed that he 'strove to keep his two businesses seperate' ! It's a bit worrying that he had to emphasise that point, really!

When we stop off at a viewpoint across a gigantic deep-blue lake to Mount Cook it's a breath-taking sight. The sun glints off the snow on the peak, glittering in the water as it beams down out of an almost cloudless sky. The Maori called Mount Cook 'Aoraki' meaning 'Cloud Piercer'.

At Lake Tekapo our driver stops off at the Church of the Good Shepherd and the sheepdog statue, towards the edge of what is optimistically called the 'town'. It's a cute little stone church, looking out over the gorgeous blue waters of Lake Tekapo, and when we arrive there's a wedding taking place. Later on, after dumping my stuff at the lakeside YHA where I'm staying, I take a picnic out to the rocks on the lakeside, sitting in the sun with the church at my back and the blue waters, surrouded by uninabited hills, to the front.

Back at the hostel I watched the sunset from garden table looking out at the lake, accompanied by the podgy, anti-social hostel cat, with tea and the last of my Cadbury factory samples.

The next morning I woke up so early that I managed to get outside in time to watch the sunset, from the first light behind the hills to the East, as it progressed, from orange to pink, the bright pink cloud scudded across the sky over the lake, and finally to the light gray of normal early-morning light.

Then it was time to pack up again and head off to Christchurch. My original hostel managed to turn my booking for a bed in a 3-bed dorm into 3 people in a double room (hmm?), so I have to move across the Foley Towers, which turns out to be a pretty decent hostel. Returning to Christchurch means I know my way around and have seen most of the touristy bits, so I just check out the market at the Arts Centre for the rest of the afternoon.

written by  LizIsHere on March 20, 2010 from Christchurch, New Zealand
from the travel blog: New Zealand & Australia 2010
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I had considered skipping over Oamaru and heading straight on to Lake Tekapo, but I'm so glad I didn't! All I'd heard of it before the bus drove into town was about the little blue penguins which you could watch coming in to nest at night in a special protected area around the harbour, which sounded cool enough to warrant a night at least. But when we arrived into town it was so pretty - lots of old, Victorian buildings built of white Oamaru stone, with a particularly interesting street made up entirely of older buildings, a bakery, warehouses and old stables now converted to shops, a theatre and sculpture and art galleries. It's unlike any other town I've seen in NZ - the buildings are so much older and easier on the eye that the sprawling more modern style of other towns and cities. I spent the afternooon (wrapped up in all my clothes again!) wandering round down the long, wide mainstreet and into the historic/art quarter, before my appointment with the penguins in the evening.

The penguins begin to return to their nesting area around dusk, so I walked up to the Blue Penguin centre and took my seat in the stand of wooden benches built facing the rock 'ramp' which the penguins clamber up to reach their protected area of nest-boxes. There are special lights which the penguins can't see, so we could watch them as the light faded. There's an absolute ban on photography and filming, and we had to keep very still and quiet, so they won't be scared off from returning to the reserve.

The blue penguins are very cute, even more so than the yellow-eyeds because they're so small. They waddle up the ramp in groups (they form into 'rafts' as dusk falls to give themselves protection-in-numbers when swimming in towards the coast) and pause, worriedly, scouting out for threats, before crossing the open two-metre or so patch of land, wiggling under the fence and then splitting up and running across the grass to their respective nest-boxes. After a few minutes a loud, eerie noise starts up - at first I assume it's possums, but then the guide tells us it's actually the penguins - like the yellow eyeds they can be extremely loud when they feel like it!

written by  LizIsHere on March 18, 2010 from Oamaru, New Zealand
from the travel blog: New Zealand & Australia 2010
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I like Dunedin, but it's COLD. I'm looking forward to heading further north where maybe I won't have to wear all my clothes at once to keep warm... :)

written by  LizIsHere on March 17, 2010 from Dunedin, New Zealand
from the travel blog: New Zealand & Australia 2010
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Dunedin is billed as the most Scottish city outside of Scotland - Dunedin is actually Gaelic for Edinburgh. The city filters East onto the beginnings of the Otago Peninsula (a British mispronounciation of the Maori name for their settlement on the peninsula, Otakou). The city is a bit of mishmash of old, historic buildings build of grey and black stone, and uglier modern structures, but it's more appealing than other cities on South Island. The population is about 25-30% students, so it's got a great cultural scene, cafes, bookshops, kooky shops and nightlife. I like it; it's cold as, but definitely the kind of place i could imagine living, unlike, say Nelson or Queenstown.

My hostel is Hogwartz, a large old house up on the hill about the harbour, reached through a creaking gate and up a winding flight of stone steps, the building itself obscured by the bushes and ivy until you reach the frontdoor. It's a brilliant hostel - no bunkbeds (i have a permanent bruise on my head from hitting myself on the top bunk, so this is a definite plus!), large dorms, and, in my four-bed dorm, fantastic views across the city (picture coming soon). They also have two extremely cute jack russels, the old and antisocial Bella, and friendly Asterix, both of whom have perfected their starving-puppy begging eyes as they loiter around travellers cooking, or eating their dinner.

On my second day there, I'm booked onto the Elm Wildlife tour, which takes you out in a minibus to the far reaches of the wild and rugged Otago Peninsula to first the Albatross Centre, where we see the giant birds (with windspans of 3 metres!) soaring on the high winds. They're endangered birds, and the colony at the centre unusual in that it's a land-based colony - mostly the birds nest out at sea, on rocky islands, and spend most of their life at the sea. The albatross mate for life, but only produce one egg every two years. On their 'year off', the couple seperate, one maybe going to Chile while the other might remain around the East coast of NZ. (the guide rolls out the slightly predictable joke about the biannual gap-years being the only reason the albatross can mate for life.)
We then drive out to the Elm reserve, a protected area closed to the public, further out on the peninsula. On the way we pass trees which have been blown almost horizontal by th 'roaring 40s', the strong winds which batter the coastline at between 40-50 degrees latitude. In the reserve there are seals, seal lions and yellow-eyed penguins living wild. We visit the fur seal breeding colony first, where female fur seals and their pups live on a large rocky outcrop, protected from the raging seas. The baby seals - twenty or thirty of them - frolic in the rockpools, squeaking, fighting and playing. We even get to watch a female seal swimming up and clambering over the rocks to the colony - she battles against the strong waves for five or ten minutes before finally managing to reach the rocks, where she clambers on and collapses. It's pretty amazing - she looked like a twig being battered about the waves as she fought to come ashore.

Next we clamber up the hill and down again to another beach where five sealions are napping on the beach. Our guide warns us that they sometimes, but rarely, chase people - before revealing that he himself was chased with a group on the tour four weeks ago. Apparently they can run at up to 25km/hour! (I ask which way we should run if they come at us, meaning towards the grass sand-dunes or the cliff path. "Just AWAY!" Warren the guide responds. ... Fair point)
Everyone approaches the sealions a little more warily after this revelation, but we get within metres of them anyway - it's fantastic to be able to get so close to such clearly wild animals (who clearly couldn't be less afraid of us). They're huge blubbery lumps on-land, leaping up and roaring at each other for a minute or two, fighting, and then collapsing back into the sand, which they flick onto themselves to keep them cool.

The penguins come in to sleep on the grassy cliffs further up the beach, and we pile into a makeshift 'hide' to watch them. Some are already on the beach close by, their white chests, black capes and the New Romantic-style yellow band of colour around their yellow-irised eyes clearly visible. Then we spot others coming in from the water, one by one (they're quite anti-social animals). It's brilliant - they approach the shore looking like just another seabird, then suddenly they get to their feet and become penguins! They waddle across the sand to the rocks looking like little old men in baggy pyjamas, very, very cute! It's a little strange to see them in a sandy, warm climate though, when penguins are always so linked to snow and ice.

written by  LizIsHere on March 14, 2010 from Dunedin, New Zealand
from the travel blog: New Zealand & Australia 2010
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Now, this is an 'attraction' (well, it's natural, so maybe 'attraction' isn't quite the right word - it's not Disneyland! - but it's still a major, massive tourist draw, for both tramping on the Milford Track, and for the natural beauty of the area), which is so hyped up that I was half-expecting to be disappointed - South Island so far has been so beautiful and magnificent that I wasn't expecting to be as bowled-over as I was. Even the drive there was stunning - passing by roaring river, waterfalls, suspended glaciers high on the mountain tops; crystal-clear mountain-filtered streams; the road winding between towering walls of black-grey rock; even the massive pile of last-year's avalanche snow near the tunnel that took you through one of the moutains, not yet melted.

And the Sounds themselves are gorgeous, stunning, and completely humbling - the size of the moutains (the towering Mitre Peak taking the prize), the blueness of the water against the deep green on the plants, the peacefulness of being out in the water (even on our quite large boat - we were dwarfed by the surroundings). It's just stunning - indescribably so. Postcards and pictures can convey something of it, but, like so much in NZ, it simply doesn't 'fit' into a photograph.
I'm well aware that this sounds quite irritatingly smug, but: it's just one of those things you have to see for yourself.

Oh - and we saw seals there! I'm still excited by seeing them, despite them being all over the place here; probably because NZ is severly lacking in mammals (well, ones that Kiwis actually like anyway - possums, stoats, weasels and rats being loathed, for good reason).

p.s. I'm having real trouble uploading photos on here and flickr - it's taking me ages and i have loads, and the comps are slow (think the photos are too big but resizing them is difficult etc. etc!!!). I've got them all backed-up and may post a cd home at some point... until then there won't be many up here :-p sorry!

written by  LizIsHere on March 9, 2010 from Milford Sound, New Zealand
from the travel blog: New Zealand & Australia 2010
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The hostel is a fun place, although the girl who manages it is so miserable and petty I only feel I can relax when she's left; she takes a 3-and-a-half-hour lunchbreak, and shuts reception at 7.30pm - and woe-betide you if you turn up at 7.31pm, no matter if she's still behind the counter - "reception is closed!". Still the people staying at the hostel are very cool, we spend a lot of time together watching movies and playing cards.

I'm not that taken with Queenstown straight away, the lakeside is really developed and it's really busy (and dirty) compared to Wanaka, but it's a buzzing place, a place it's probably hard to get bored in, and the stunning backpdrop of the craggy Remarkables mountains across the lake is a pretty a great view for a lakeside picnic, which I did almost every day.

I also visited Arrowtown, a slightly twee, preserved gold-rush town about thirty minutes outside Queenstown. It's cute and nice for a stroll around in the sun, but the old Chinese reonstructed settlement on the outskirts is much more interesting - the Chinese goldrush migrants had a tough time out in NZ, often made unwelcome and forced to scrape by the on meagre returns from gold-mining. The houses are tiny; it's fascinating to be able to go inside and imagine people living there in the tiny space, often with two or three people sharing.

written by  LizIsHere on March 8, 2010 from Queenstown, New Zealand
from the travel blog: New Zealand & Australia 2010
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That could be a succinct and apt blog entry, but anyway...

For $225 I got the pleasure of a thirty-minute drive in a rickety van along an unsealed road (complete with flocks of suicidal sheep), with three other travellers (two Aussie guys and a French-Canadian girl) and our guide, an English guy orignally from Cornwall; a wet-suit; and the chance to jump down waterfalls, abseil down canyon walls, and slide, jump and dive off cliffs, down stream channels and into deep waterfall-gouged pools.

We had a twenty-minute uphill walk-in to about 2/3 of the way up the Niger stream (it's a small river really), with fantastic views of Mount Aspiring, topped with snow, to our right, and the sound of river rushing by on our left. At the top we donned wet-suits (bouncy and very strange to move in for a while!), gloves, hoods (it's a good look, really), hats, and harnesses, and after a run-through of abseiling techniques and safety stuff, clipped ourselves onto a rope and edged out along the canyon-edge. The first task was to abseil down the rock-face and then star-jump backwards into a deep pool. It was kind of nervy, but great when you got to the almost bottom and jumped out, coming off the end of the abseil rope and landing in the freezing cold water!

Next was a slide/jump/fall down an 11 metre waterfall. From the bend in the stream
you couldn't see the bottom of the falls or the pool, so we had no idea how far down it was. One by one we shuffled into the stream channel, the water rushing away and falling away below us; lay back, arms in, knees together, waiting for the count, and then pushed forward, sliding along the rock on the layer of water... When suddenly the rock-bed dropped away and you were falling, falling, falling (...and possibly screaming, ahem), landing with a splash and a shock, water up you nose and in your ears, in the pool below. It was brilliant! Everyone emerged from the water punching the air and screaming, whooping, demanding to go again. Our guide of course had to do one better by somersaulting from a high rock-shelf into the pool!

The rest of the two and a half hour trip included slipping down natural 'slides' formed by the river - sometimes feet first, and a few times (the best times!), head first!; jumping off cliffs into the water, and swimming in cold waterfall pools, one with a rainbow dancing across the water as it flowed over the rocks. There was also some scrambling, up steep banks, gripping onto roots and branches, to take a second shot at the headfirst slip (a second, and a third). The Canadian girl and I decided to bow out with dignity on the last challenge, a leap off a massive-seeming cliff, which you had to time properly or risk landing on the shelf of rock sticking out below!
...Or at least we thought that was the last challenge! But, no, we had to get back across the canyon somehow - and what better way to make the journey than on slightly shoddy-looking zipline, metres above the water?

We were buzzing by the end of trip - a high which didn't wear off until I arrived back at the backpackers, when it was suddenly all I could do to make a cup of tea and crawl onto the sofa for the evening. An awesome day!

written by  LizIsHere on March 6, 2010 from Wanaka, New Zealand
from the travel blog: New Zealand & Australia 2010
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