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exumenius

170 Blog Entries
2 Trips
477 Photos

Trips:

Down Under trip Preparation
Kiwis and Kangaroos

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Out in the Octagon - Night 105

Dunedin, New Zealand

In the morning I went for a walk around town, eventually stumbling through the University of Otago Campus. The second largest university in the country, Otago has upwards of 25,000 students during the school season. This, however, was summer break so the campus was only partial filled by eager summer school participants and full time faculty members not lucky enough to be on sabbatical. I was also fortunate enough to be able to download some journal articles from the library’s database that aren’t available online. Ah, the joys of digital thievery and copyright violation. After another marginal tasting Chinese lunch (I just don’t seem to learn) I set off north in search of the world’s steepest street. Armed with a horrible map and my excellent sense of direction I became hopelessly lost, eventually ending up in some Japanese garden not far from the University.


Dunedin Railway Station

On the way back to the hostel I came across the $12 haircut bar. I entered through the green door, partly for the novelty of it and partly due to my need for a trim up. Immediately upon entering, one of life’s greatest questions was answered for me: Yes, people do actually go to a professional hairdresser to get a mullet cut. A guy about my age was sitting in the chair having his top and sides trimmed while letting it all grow in the back. Unfortunately I missed his arrival,


$12 Haircut Bar
but I imagine it went something like “hey honey, can you make me look like a Kentucky Redneck? I’ve got a job interview tomorrow and need to look my best.” He even went so far as to get the ridiculous little lines shaved into his sides, a la Billy Ray Cyrus. I should have heeded this warning and left, but I was transfixed by the surrounds and went like a lamb to slaughter when the stylist called “Next.” To be fair, it wasn’t the worst haircut I’ve ever received, but it was certainly top three. With the mullet cut fresh in her mind, she took too much of the top and sides and not enough of the back of my head. In no way am I currently rocking a full-fledged mullet, but rather just a subtle training one. You know what they say….when in Rome….As if the $12 Haircut Bar wasn’t memorable enough, as I was about to leave a crazy old Maori man with a huge unkempt head of hair came flying in the door. Turns out he wanted someone to shave his head, to which the hairdresser replied that it would be $25. Cleary drunk and likely on E, he whipped out a pocketful of change which he counted out to $18.40. After a big of haggling the red-hedded girl agreed to shave his head for $18.40 in change, more so just to get him out of there as fast as possible. Looking back, I should have stayed to watch this, but my hunger was getting the best of me and besides I’m not sure that spectators are welcome in the $12 Haircut Bar.


One Huge Tower of Chocolate
In the evening I hit up the happy hour in the cellar bar with Paul, a guy from the hostel. A nice, cozy, windowless pub, the owner’s daughter was bartending and we had the run of the place. She kept the $2.50 beers coming long after happy hour had officially ended. Eventually a Frenchman from New Caledonia joined us in the cellar. Later on we went down to The Craic, an Irish bar in the Octagon. Not fully satisfied from our numerous pints of Kilkenny, we ended up at a real towny bar, the name and location of which I do not remember. I believe there was some live music. Judging by the fact that I woke up in my bed, I imagine I didn’t do anything overly illegal or unsafe, though, again, I really can’t be sure.

What I Learned Today: Like so many of the other strange beings that happily inhabit these two islands, homo mulletus is alive and well down here and apparently damned proud of perpetuating one of the worst fashion ideas ever.


permalink written by  exumenius on January 23, 2008 from Dunedin, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Catlin's Coast - Night 104

Dunedin, New Zealand

The consistent rain bode poorly for my Catlin’s

The Group plus the Sea Lion
Coast trip today. I braved the wet and walked down to the I-site center to catch my bus at 10. Our shuttle was 30 minutes late and once it arrived Jaime, the driver, had forgotten to fuel up so that set up back another half an hour. Normally one of the office workers, Jaime was filling in for a sick driver and it showed as he wasn’t very well organized or prompt, for that matter. Surprisingly, however, he turned out to be a great guide for the day and kept our ears full of interesting tidbits and trivial facts on the region.


900 lb Sea Lion
Our first stop was Point Waipapa, the site of the worst maritime accident in New Zealand history. Back in the 1880s the Tarurua ran aground on the rocks not far from shore but only 20 of the 150 sailors survived. In response the lighthouse was constructed shortly thereafter. Waipapa Point also happens to be the summer home of a large 900-lb sea lion. The elderly male lies on the beach not far from the carpark all day graciously posing for tourists and fishing off of the reef. The rain had let up by this point, but the wind was fiercely blowing up from Antarctica giving the air a chill reminiscent of late fall day in the Midwest. Next we pulled into Curio Bay for a warm lunch at the small stand and a chance to see the elusive Hector’s dolphins. Endemic to New Zealand, the Hector’s, the smallest of all the dolphins, live only here on the southeast coast and nowhere else in the world. Luckily we did get to see a small pod of them playing in the surf a distance down the coast. Around the corner is the strange outcropping of petrified podocarp forest, apparently the greatest occurrence of petrification from the Jurassic period anywhere on the planet.


Waikapu Point

In the afternoon we made a stop at Nugget Point to see the famous lighthouse perched upon the coastal head. Below Nugget Point is one of the only yellow-eyed penguin breeding grounds in the world. Hidden in a duck blind of sorts we watched the four adults climb from the sea, oil down their feathers and then begin the long climb up the hill to their nests and the eagerly awaiting children.

A long day of driving, quite frequently on


Nugget Lighthouse
twisty gravel roads, we finally made Dunedin around 7pm. I was much too tired to find a grocery store and then cook a meal, so I dined out at the Olive Branch and had the best kebab of my trip. Gastrointestinally satisfied, I returned to Penny’s Backpackers to utilize the free internet on site. Penny’s was one of the dirtier places I’ve stayed, but it was cheap and well located just a few blocks from the Octagon, the center of town. It was a weak nights

By the Falls
sleep as the old man below me in the bottom bunk was a prodigious sleep talker who seems to blurt out random things everytime the bed squeaked. Fucker had some sort of night time Turret’s syndrome that scared the shit out of me a few times.

What I Learned Today: In Germany all it takes to become a judge is a law degree…no experience necessary. (One of the ladies in my group is a judge in Germany at age 35 with only a few years as a barrister under her belt)


permalink written by  exumenius on January 22, 2008 from Dunedin, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Thwarted by ESPN NZ - Night 103

Invercargill, New Zealand

The major goal today was to find a place to watch the Packers game, which would be played at 12:30. I spent the morning wandering around town looking for a used bookstore to trade in a few finished books for some new ones. Along the way I made a mental note of everyplace that looked like it might be the kind of sports bar that would be open at noon on a Monday. I eventually stumbled into a small place operating out of a room joined to a butchery/bakery. The sign said

Stewart Island in the Distance
“Butchery, Bakery, and Book Exchange,” an odd combination, but whatever. I found an old man hunched over a magazine behind the counter and, as luck would have it, he was listening to the Patriots-Chargers game. I immediately inquired as to the station and if he was a fan. “Oh this,” he said, “I am just waiting for the horse racing to come on at noon.” It all became clear. He was a gambling degenerate/bookie busily reading the racing forum and placing and taking bets out of the store, his front, as it were. He gladly accepted my three books and told me to choose any two books from the shelves in trade, not even so much as noting what I took or how many. Not surprisingly, his adult books section comprised of erotic novels and old pornographic magazines took up a good third of the small hut out of which he operated. A friendly guy, he gave me the names of some pubs that might show the game and I was on my way.


Downtown Invercargill

The Speight’s Ale House just down the street from my hostel opened at 11 and looked promising. The girl behind the bar flipped through the five Sky sports channels and found the Pats-Chargers game on the last one, ESPN New Zealand. After the New England game and a brief Sportscenter I was primed for the Packers. However, abruptly at 12:30 fucking ESPN New Zealand cut to tape delayed, B-league Spanish soccer, denying me my Packers. Once again the waitress flipped through all the channels, but this time to no avail. Defeated, and unwilling to pay $30 in internet fees to watch the play-by-play online, I decided to take a long walk down to the estuary park during the game, as my watching would have little effect on the outcome. On the way I stopped by the World’s


The Estuary Walkway
Southermost Micro-Brewery, the Invercargill Brewery, for a few free tastes of beer. A huge fan of microbrews, I was genuinely unimpressed with their product, though I signed the guest registry anyways. As you can see, the one thing Invercargill does pitch is its southernmost location. At the very edge of New Zealand, it is the farthest south English speaking city of over 50,000 in the world. The only larger cities farther south are those in Chile and Argentina and as a result many things and places here are the “southernmost this or that.”….like the Subway Restaurant next door to my hostel.

The tragic Green Bay loss left me in a foul mood for the evening. I made Rissolas, breaded, conglomerated meatballs consisting of beef, pork, and/or lamb (as the package alluded to) for dinner. I guess this counts for a traditional New Zealand meal. At night, I walked to the theatre across the street to see American Gangster, a 1970’s gangland epic.

What I Learned Today: (WARNING: Partial Movie Spoiler Below) During my travels here I’ve had more than a few New Zealanders or Aussies refer to what they believe is the relative dangerousness of American cities. While it is true that America does lead the world in prison population (though mostly on drug charges), it is certainly less dangerous than many places throughout the world, so I wondered where this belief came from. It finally clicked; the movies. Our exported entertainment culture glorifies violence to such a point that were I a small town New Zealander I would have no choice but to believe that all American cities are full of gangsters with automatic weapons who kill each other in broad daylight over drug money. To them America must seem like a big, dirty, interesting and lethal place. At the end of the movie, when the subtitles explained that Frank Lucas was sentenced to 70 years, though only served 15, no less than half of the audience snickered; a not-so silent acknowledgement of the perceived hypocrisy practiced in our land of supposed freedom and justice.


permalink written by  exumenius on January 21, 2008 from Invercargill, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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The Bottom of the World - Night 102

Invercargill, New Zealand


The Ancient Watertower
Bright and early - 7 am to be exact - my short bus from Te Anau left. Our driver Simon was a proper tourism industry Kiwi, that is, he had the crazy hair and disheveled look of a man on a permanent holiday. At the beginning there were just two of us, so I rode shotgun as Simon zig-zagged around the many corners, waving and honking at random people along the way. We picked up a few more passengers and rolled into Invercargill around 10am. From Te Anau to Invercargill is a two and a half hour drive (we took a ½ hour tea break, of course) originating in the hilly Fjordlands and ending in the table flat plains of the far south end.

Invercargill is located in the alluvial delta of


The World's Steepest Steps
the Oreti River, so when I say it is flat, I mean it is flat, like Iowa flat. The highest point in town is a mere 9 meters above sea level, the rest of the town probably sits at 6. Everyone I’ve talked to has said that I won’t like Invercargill because there are no tourist things to do. What they didn’t understand it that that is the sole reason I stopped here. After awhile you get tired of the endless advertisements for jet boats and skydives, similar looking German tourists in campervans, and, of course, the ridiculous prices in the tourist towns. The entirety of my west coast journey had been spent in places that are “on” the map, so to say, in New Zealand. Places that everyone, or nearly everyone, stops at while they are here. As a result, I have yet to have a New Zealander as a roommate in a hostel and apart from bus drivers, have met very few of them (the aged hikers from Auckland aside).

Invercargill, population around 50,000, has a decent history of industry and shipping and further functions as the regional hub of the Southland. Population, however, is declining as much of the shipping industry, originally spurred on by gold mining and lumber exports, has begun to dry up. As I walked through town in the afternoon I could tell this was a real place. Mothers much younger than I pushed their strollers down the street as the goth-looking fathers hung a few steps behind seemingly embarrassed at their lot in life, teenagers cruised the strip in decked-out 2002 Hondas practically begging for something to do, a gathering of old women listened to their husbands’ band play in a park rotunda, struggling to hold on to one last vestige of the good ole days. Yes, Invercargill was a real, live town complete with litter, police, abandoned buildings, and most shockingly, actual New Zealanders; the absolute opposite of most of the plastercast tourist towns you see along the way. I thought to myself, I could be in any old industrial town in the Ohio right now, save for the funny looking Holden trucks.

My day out in Invercargill consisted of visiting the Otago Museum and Art Gallery and then on to the Water Tower for a panoramic view of the area. On my return I cruised up through the Queens garden, a large park in the middle of town. Even at 47 degrees south latitude the original founders just couldn’t seem to resist naming the primary feature of the city after a dying monarch 12,000 miles away.


A Game of Cricket
Perhaps it is something bred into us Americans, but I can’t help but look down upon the consistent reverence given to the royals down here (though I guess we Americans have simply replaced the royal family with corporate names, Miller Park, Quest Field…). It was a gorgeous day out once again, so I lay down in the park to watch a cricket game. I left a half an hour later, no closer to understanding this enigma of an event, although I did see someone actually hit a ball past the fence line, resulting in what I imagine was a home run of sorts.

I am staying at the Tautara Lodge, on three story apartment building that has been converted into a backpacker’s hostel. Unfortunately, no wireless internet was available at the hostel and according to the desk worker (who was a real live New Zealander from Invercargill) the only place in town with it was Starbucks. My subsequent research confirmed this fact, and since they charge $10 an hour, I was happy to spend a few days without it. I guess affordable wireless is too much to ask in a town that boasts the southernmost McDonald’s in the world, or so I was told. (I would later find out that it is, in fact, only the southernmost English speaking


The World's Southermost McDonalds (sort of)
McDonalds in the world, as there is one in Punta Arenas, Argentina at 53 degrees south latitude). Also, much to my surprise, my only roommate in the eight share room, the Tautara was nearly vacant on a Sunday night, was a young Kiwi guy from Taupo who was headed to Stewart Island to work for the Department of Conservation. Like nearly all young Kiwis, it seems, he is anxious to move to Australia for work and for something to do.

What I Learned Today: Invercargill has taken an interesting strategy to combat the loss of population in the area; they’ve waived all tuition fees at the university in town. In the hopes of drawing in a much larger student demographic (who will hopefully stay) the Southern University of Technology, in conjunction with the city, has implemented a ‘No Fees’ program for New Zealanders who move here and complete a bachelor’s degree. According to a student I met, books, materials, housing and other costs still need to be paid, so it is not a free education, but, nevertheless, a damned good deal.


permalink written by  exumenius on January 20, 2008 from Invercargill, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Relaxing in Te Anau - Night 101

Te Anau, New Zealand

There was nothing on today’s agenda, save

Te Anau YHA
laundry and journal catchup, and that was fine with me. So long as I didn’t have to put on boots and 25lb pack it would be a good day. I explored the town of Te Anau, hung out at the beach, and grilled some delicious venison sausages for dinner. Deer are an introduced species here and for years were simply culled as they are a pest. More recently, deer farming has sprung up in many places and as a result venison is readily available in all grocery stores right alongside beef, chicken, pork and mutton. Prices are similar to beef and lamb. The taste is excellent, the meat lean.

One of my roommates turned out to be a friendly 28-year old guy from Maine, Aaron, who is currently in the Air Force stationed on the small island of Diego Garcia. He had just returned from the Heaphy Track and was set to do the Kepler Track tomorrow, so naturally we had a lot in common. We hit the town, or rather had a few beers at the pizza place, and returned to hang out at the hostel. Later in the evening we were joined by a contingent of girls from the University of Delaware who are studying in Christchurch. Quiet hours begin at 10pm on the back deck and at 10:00 and 2 seconds an elderly German woman came downstairs and chastised us in 6,000 words on how we were too loud. She then proceeded to give us a detailed explanation of the physics of sound waves and the location of her room and how our noise was affecting a Japanese woman in her room’s ability to sleep, followed by some pointing actions and a lot of head nodding. We agreed to be quiet but she just kept on going about noise and quiet hours and her roommate. Finally she ran out of wind and then calmly asked us which way to the laundry room because “dis place has zoo many doorz und I get lost easy.” Try as we might, we could not contain our laughter, which only made the noise worse. Eventually we all headed to bed and I made a promise to go out with the Delaware girls once in Christchurch. Their class is 28 girls and 1 guy…..it didn’t take much to convince me to sign onto that trip.

What I Learned Today: Diego Garcia is a small island 1,000 south of India, on which the United States and Britain currently have a joint military base. The local inhabitants were brutally removed by the British shortly after WWII and are currently living a life of abject poverty in Mauritius.


permalink written by  exumenius on January 19, 2008 from Te Anau, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Kepler Track, Day Three - Night 100

Te Anau, New Zealand

I left the Iris Burn hut around 7:30, with the sun

Sunrise in the Valley
shining beautifully on the mountain high above the valley. Today’s walk was primarily flat, following the Iris Burn River the entire way down to its mouth in at Lake Manapouri. Along the way I passed the Big Slip, an area where a massive landslide reshaped the valley back in 1984. On and on I walked until I came to the Motorua Hut along the shores of Lake Manapouri. For those who were doing the 4-day walk option this would be accommodation for the night; for

The Deep Forest
those of us passing through to the Rainbow Reach endpoint it made for a great lunch stop. I arrived around 11, ate a quick lunch and took an hour long nap on the perfectly deserted beach. Refreshed, I knocked out the final 90 minutes to the huge suspension bridge with renewed vigor. The shuttle bus wasn’t due until 3 so I laid in the shade, took my boots off and enjoyed another gorgeous blue sky day in the Southland.


The Motarua Beach

Getting back to town I was exhausted and decided to dine out for a change. Nearly all of my meals this month have been either home cooked or, when on the trail, freeze dried, backcountry kits (the remainder have been take out kebabs or sandwiches). I was trying to think of the last time I had eaten at a sit-down restaurant, I believe it was December 14th, nearly five weeks ago. Desperately craving Chinese I was relieved to find three such restaurants in town. Two of then didn’t open for 30 minutes, so the choice was dictated solely by my overwhelming hunger. I spent a bit of time reorganizing and catching up on life and fell to sleep well before sunset (10pm).

Total Distance Covered: 22.2 km (13.98 miles)


The End

What I Learned Today: There is no such thing as good Chinese food in New Zealand, even at a place where the menus were in Chinese first and English second and was filled with Chinese patrons. Disappointing…how I crave P.F. Chang’s, Panda Express, or even some Safeway General Tso’s Chicken.


permalink written by  exumenius on January 18, 2008 from Te Anau, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Kepler Track, Day Two - Night 99

Te Anau, New Zealand

I awoke to a scattering of snores and groans.

Walking through a Cloud
Combined with the howl of the wind and the pounding rain on the tin roof the whole auditory scene was a symphony of agony. The forecast had been for rain early, and rain it did. Except for a few brave (or foolish) souls, most of us waited it out until 8:30 when the warden came down to address the group. Her report said that it should clear by noon and she suggested we get underway, cautiously though.


In the Emergency Shelter
Rain today was especially bad for two reasons: 1) nearly the entirety of today’s hike is exposed ridgeline (at 5,000 feet, no less) offering no protection from foul weather; 2) nearly the entirety of today’s hike is exposed ridgeline offering amazing views in all directions. The first hour and a half was pure pain. The wind blew at a constant 40kpm, gusting up to probably 70kmh, some of the worst weather I have ever been out in. The rain came down from all directions, at times it even seemed to blow uphill. To test this, I spit and it did indeed disappear uphill over the ridge. The reason being that the clouds come through the lake valley and then have to go up and over the ridge, taking rain, spit and everything with it. For a bit the visibility was down to 10 meters or so, just like driving in a Wisconsin

The Iris Burn Falls
snowstorm. Eventually the clouds cleared, but the wind howled on. I stopped briefly at the two emergency shelter huts to grab some food and water and enjoy the relative peace and quiet of the indoors.

By the time the trail began to descend the ridge into the valley the sun had come out, making it a rather nice, albeit blustery, day. The way down is always the worst for me, especially with a pack on. Every step tests the patellar tendon and the thigh muscles. Eventually I was back into the beech forest and arrived at the Iris Burn Hut around 1pm, again the first one home. Dumping my pack, I made lunch and then headed to the Iris Burn waterfall some 1.5 kilometers down a side track. A good diversion, I also tried to take a short bath but the freezing water relegated my hygienic heroics to a simple splash here and there of ice water. It would have been nice to lie by the falls on the rocks for a bit but the sandflies made this an impossibility.


Down the Ridge

Nothing much happened in the evening as everyone was sequestered inside due to the flies. Bedtime again coincided with the sunset.

Total Distance Covered: 14.6 km (9.19 miles)

What I Learned Today: Sandfly bites are at least thrice as painful as those from mosquitos. And itch like you wouldn’t believe.


permalink written by  exumenius on January 17, 2008 from Te Anau, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Kepler Track, Day One - Night 98

Te Anau, New Zealand

I began the three day Kepler Track hike today.

The Beginning
Arriving too late last night, I had to wait until the Department of Conservation office opened at 8:30am in order to pick up my hut permits. The office was stuffed with a large, older crowd of hikers milling around awaiting transport to the trailhead; my hiking companions I assumed. I, on the other hand, had decided to walk to the start, a quick 45 minute warm-up march from Te Anau.


The Limestone Cliffs
At the control gates (basically a dam) that hold back the waters of Lake Te Anau the trail began amidst a complete lack of fanfare. The first two hours (according to the DOC) was a flat run along the lake. A pleasant walk, it meandered through old growth forest along a soft, almost bouncy, well-worn trail. About half way through I began to pass the first of many of the large group. Quite luckily I caught the main contingent during their morning tea at Brod Bay and thus avoided an additional 40 “excuse mes” on the way up.” At Brod Bay the trail turned inland and began to switchback its way up the hill. After passing some limestone cliffs, suddenly the trees end and the sub-alpine terrain begins. Being nearly noon, I took advantage of the last bit of shade – it was a perfectly sunny day – and had a brief lunch just below the treeline. Forty minutes later I stood on the deck of the Luxmore Hut, the first arrival for the day.

Being the first one to a hut has one obvious


The Luxmore Hut
advantage: you get to choose the best bed in the place. I settled in and then took a brief side adventure to the Luxmore Caves, just a kilometer away. Lacking a flashlight I only explored as far in as the light shown. On my way out a pair of guys from Washington D.C. showed up; the only other Americans in the Hut. In fact, checking the visitor registry I was the ninth hiker from the U.S. to stay there this year. Strange considering we were outnumbered by people from such small countries as Poland and Israel. In the afternoon I lay down in the tall tussock grass for a much deserved nap.


The View

Cooking the evening meal was a challenge. The large contingent of old hikers from Auckland had literally taken over the kitchen. Sitting down to eat, I discovered that there were 41 of them (out of 50 total people in the hut). The other eight hikers were a couple from Switzerland, a couple from Denmark, two English women and the two American guys. It was a group organized by the Lions Club, or something, in Auckland, so naturally they were an aged group, but quite friendly. During the meal, one of the oldest members of their group passed out and fell off his bench. No one seemed too worried; apparently he had done this before. Around 10pm everyone sort of sauntered off to bed, tired from day.

Total Distance Covered: 16.8 km (10.58 miles)

What I Learned Today: The New Zealand Department of Conservation’s hike time estimates are as flawed, if not more so, that those of the Wellington Council. I think even the 70-year old ladies beat the estimates given in the brochure and on the signs.


permalink written by  exumenius on January 16, 2008 from Te Anau, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Milford Sound - Night 97

Te Anau, New Zealand

My bus for the Milford Sound left the Pinewood Resort at 8:00. We wove around town to various hostels and hotels, eventually filling the bus with daytrippers (not the Beatles’ kind). The Milford Sound is not all that far from Queenstown, as the crow flies, however jagged peaks, retreating glaciers and Lake Wakatipu all stand in the way. Thus the actual drive to the Sound takes almost five hours. The journey took us through the small town of Te Anau, where I’ll be disembarking on the way back through for my three day Kepler Track hike. Along the way we crossed through miles and miles of farm land, all harboring the famous New Zealand sheep. It was here that I saw my first live black sheep. I don’t know if he was just particularly dirty or what, but his wool was nearly as dark as night.


Mitre Peak

In Te Anau we stopped for a brunch/bathroom


On e of Many Waterfalls
break and were back underway by 10:45. Shortly after leaving Te Anau we entered the Fjordlands World Heritage Area, 3 million acres of relatively untouched 6,000 mountains and temperate rain forest. The drive took us up the Elington Valley, a wide flat river plain. The valley itself is relatively new, geologically speaking, and still bears remnant glacial scars such as striations and drumlins from the last ice age. Soon we came upon the Homer Saddle, a

The Homer Tunnel
sheer 3,000 rock wall topped with snowfields. Back in the 1920s an engineer by the name of Homer (his surname) had the bright idea of tunneling through this massive slab of granite and gneiss. The 1930s brought the depression and suddenly, with FDR/New Deal fervor, the New Zealand government pumped money into infrastructure projects to put the unemployed men back to work and as a result work on the Homer Tunnel commenced. A few cave-ins and a World War later it was finally completed in 1953, paving the way for vehicular traffic to the Milford Sound. The rock is so hard here that the tunnel is not capped with concrete, it is simply a 1.5 kilometer, 3.8 meter high hole in the mountain.

Exiting the tunnel you can literally feel the air get warmer and moister; we were now in the rain forest. Twenty minutes later the sound came into view. Simply breathtaking. It wasn’t the perfect sunny day that we had hoped for as a scattering of clouds hung in the sky. As they roll in off the ocean the clouds are brutally ripped to shreds by the sharp mountain peaks giving the whole scene a certain air


On the Boat
of danger and mystique. We boarded the boat and set off on the two-hour trip. Since it had rained hard the last two days, dozens upon dozens of small waterfalls were dumping streams of run-off into the sound from hundreds of feet up. In other areas the rock rises 2,000 feet directly out of the water as vertically straight up as a New York skyscraper (only twice as high). It gives you the strange feeling that the Sound itself is bottomless, that the chasm continues on into the very bowels of the earth. The whole scene, quite frankly, needs to be seen to be believed.


The Milford Sound

The Milford Sound is so long and narrow and receives so much fresh water runoff that the top 10 feet or so is composed of fresh water, which floats on the salt water due to its lower density. The floating freshwater is stained by all the tannins in the soil and leaves a dark sheen to the Sound, known as the Tea effect. After the Cruise everyone hustled back to the bus for the long ride home. I checked into my hostel in Te Anau, made some dinner and packed my bags for my three day hike that begins tomorrow.
What I Learned Today: Sometimes the act of trying to take the perfect photo ruins the actual experience. After snapping off a plethora of photos during the Milford Sound cruise I finally had to just put the camera in my pocket. In trying to capture for everyone else exactly what it looked like, I was wasting the experience…so I apologize, but if you want to know you’ll just have to come see it (not that any photo could do the Sound justice anyway).


permalink written by  exumenius on January 15, 2008 from Te Anau, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Rained Out - Night 96

Te Anau, New Zealand

The weather this morning was dour, perfectly

Kawarua Bridge
matching my mood. Despite the early night and plenty of sleep I felt incredibly sluggish and ornery. Travel seems to amplify my moods, both up and down. I took a long walk along the lake to set my mind at ease. The destination was the old (though still used) Kawarau Bridge. Steel frame with wooden planks covering it, the one lane bridge is the main crossing of the river and lies on one of the main highways on the South Island. Standing on the pedestrian strip as large trucks cross you feel as if it could fall apart at any moment.


Queenstown from Across the Water
After I returned to town, I spent some time picking up supplies for my upcoming Kepler trip. A cooking pan, some freeze dried meals, and a waterproof bag liner for starters. Post-lunch an absolute downpour began and washed out my plans to go back to the Kawarua Bungy site. Twice now I’ve been denied my jump. It looks like the forces of fate are trying to tell me something. The rain did not abate until nearly 7pm. I holed up in an internet café for the better part of the afternoon laboriously updating my journal and booking hostels for the remainder of my New Zealand trip. In the evening our small common room was very busy amidst a flurry of multiculturalism. At one point the room held 4 Jewish girls (speaking Hebrew), two poles, two Aussies, a Japanese, Swede, Brit and me, the lone American.

What I Learned Today: Hebrew sounds like nothing else. I can usually guess what language is being spoken, or at least the family of language, by the look of the speaker and the tone of the speech, but when the four American looking girls where jabbering away in Hebrew I was completely lost.


permalink written by  exumenius on January 14, 2008 from Te Anau, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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