The Bottom of the World - Night 102

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.

written by

exumenius on January 20, 2008 from Invercargill, New Zealand

from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos

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