I promise to get an entry up here soon: In the past three weeks I've started a new job, moved out of my old apartment and into a new one with my boyfriend*. What with all the boxes, cleaning supplies, schedules and phone calls, I've been just a bit busy, and I haven't had time to even plan the massive entry I have to write next. I figure since I had a dream about The Lucksmiths over the weekend I need to write this soon, as the universe is obviously trying to tell me to get a move on.
Up next (sometime soon): The Lucksmiths! And Day One of exploring Melbourne.
*For anyone wondering, Emma is doing just fine. Took her a few days to get used to it, but she's a tough little cat!
Monday, October 5, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
The Great Ocean Road - 8/28
(*A quick note: From here on I'm going to try to incorporate hastily-edited videos into this blog. They're pretty poorly shot and cut, so consider this my blog-wide apology to all my industry friends)
Our first day in Melbourne was also supposed to be the sunniest, so we opted to do the Great Ocean Road tour that day. We used another small tour company (about 12 people on our bus), and though that meant the bus was older and thus less comfy we ended up getting a better tour of it, I think. First, some background: Back in the early 20th century, the leaders in Australia decided to turn The Great Ocean Road (hereby referred to as
GOR) into a tourist attraction, both to give jobs to the unemployed and to bring in tourists to the area. They built the road out and developed scenic lookout points, and people began flocking there to see the natural rock formations, cliffs, and the world-class surfing beaches.
Our tour started at Bells Beach, which is apparently famous in surfing circles. The beaches and cliffs in this part of Australia reminded Mom of the northern stretches of PCH/1 in California – lots of big black rocks in the surf, and the occasional seal basking in the sun. Bells Beach technically isn't on the GOR, but most tours stop there anyway. We pulled off at the “Welcome to the GOR” sign so we could all get pictures, and our driver/guide Phil told us some interesting (and scary) facts about wildfires in the area. You might all remember those horrendous wildfires at the beginning of this year? (173 people died) Because of the terrain and climate, fires spread very fast and very hot (similar to Los Angeles, though usually with more damage and loss of life). The last time this particular part of Victoria saw wildfires (1983), they were advancing on the homes on these cliffs really quickly – thinking to save themselves, residents ran towards the ocean since the roads were blocked. What they didn't count on was the blast of scorching air that precedes a fast-moving fire (I forgot the name of this, but it's a well-known phenomenon). The air boiled the sand under their feet
and turned it to glass, and reached out over the water far enough to hit those who had run into the water. Not pleasant. The original “Welcome” sign was made of beautiful stone, and stretched over the road in an arch. But when the fires came the sign collapsed and blocked the road, so emergency vehicles couldn't reach those in need until it was cleared. Now the sign is built of wood, so it will hopefully burn, and if it collapses the charred timbers are light enough for vehicles to push their way through.
The road hugs the coast for the first part, then winds up steep roads into a rainforest-type forest, similar to what we saw in parts of New Zealand, but it's still strange to be in a rainforest so soon after being on a beach and shivering from the cold rain. (Yes, the forecast said sunny, but it rained off and on all day.....) Sometime before or after this stop, our driver pulled over onto a side road, and told us to keep a lookout for koalas. Mom and I were still shocked at the idea of seeing them in the wild, when I spotted the first one to the left of our bus. Koalas, like kangaroos, are a bit of nuisance. They travel in small groups and settle in eucalyptus trees, and once they're in the tree they rip all the leaves off and eat it. W
hen you're driving down the road you can spot where the koalas are, or recently were, by the huge swatches of naked trees right next to the road. For homeowners, once you get a koala in one of your trees you're screwed, because they won't come down until they've eaten everything there is to eat. Many eucalyptus trees in yards have enclosures around the bottom, much like people put mesh screens around trees here to prevent deer from rubbing their antlers on the bark. So, back to the koala in the tree. We soon spotted two more (they look just like bundles of sticks or moss on a bigger branch), though none of these koalas were facing us, so most of our pictures look just like, well, bundles of sticks or moss on a bigger branch.
Before we got off the bus, our driver grabbed a bucket from inside and told us to stay put. He reached into the bucket and threw handfuls of birdseed in wide arcs all around him, and then told us it was safe to exit. We soon saw why – the beautiful red and green parrots that we'd seen sitting in the branchs of the trees all around us swarmed the birdseed in a massive wave of squaking bright colors. Our driver explained that if he hadn't done that, they wou
ld have swarmed us instead, because they're used to being fed. He gave out handfuls of birdseed to anyone who wanted one, and I grabbed one before I had really thought it through. Within seconds I had a parrot on my arm, and one on my head, and another on my arm, and then one on my other arm.... It was like The Birds, but with prettier birds. One girl (you can see her in my video) got absolutely mobbed – I think at one point she must have had 6 birds on her! They started to hurt after a while, because they're using your wrist to stand on, and when they have to catch their balance they dig in with their claws. And then I had of them fighting on my arm, which was less than pleasant. But that said, it was an incredible experience to be that close to such a gorgeous wild bird.
From there we stopped at Apollo Bay, a small beachside town where we had lunch at a small coffee shop and cafe. Phil told us that one great thing about Melbourne is that even if you don't go to some fancy expensive restaurant, the quality of the cooking and food in the city is just so high that no matter what you get it'll blow your mind. We tested this numerous times while in Melbourne, and he was totally right. My lunch in Apollo Bay was the most amazing chicken pesto foaccaia sandwich I've ever had – the bread was so fresh and evenly toasted it melted in my mouth, and all the flavors blended so perfectly in each bite that I think I groaned in sadness when I finished. Mom had a wrap, which was similarly amazing. Our coffees were so good we actually wen
t back for a second cup after walking around town for bit. (As Matt can attest, I've been complaining every day since I've been back about the lack of excellent coffee in Los Angeles. It's just on a whole different level down in AU and NZ).
The next highlight of our trip was the Twelve Apostles, which is the iconic GOR image most people see in books or on postcards. The Twelves Apostles (which used to be called the Sow and Piglets, until everyone realized that would never bring in the tourists), are twelvish rock pillars of varying size just off the coast. Due to the incredible force of the waves, rocks are constantly falling over or eroding and changing shape, and thus the
re's not always twelve of them. Here's where Mom and I did the most impulsive thing we could think of – we took a helicopter ride. Phil passed out a brochure about them as we got in the bus, and that started the gears turning – it was AU$70 for a 10 minute ride, and you got to fly low over the Apostles. Compared to the helicopter prices we'd seen elsewhere, that was a steal, and a short ride felt like a grea
t way to get on a copter for the first time. As each copter fit 3 people, and 6 people wanted to go, Mom and I ended up splitting up. As a result, though, we both ended up with the front passenger seat on our respective helicopters, and I think the views were better because of it. The company that runs the rides is a well-oiled machine – they keep their three or four helicopters constantly running, taking off with new passengers every 10 minutes. Their safety spiel is also a well-oiled machine; as a result the guy that was explaining the rules to me didn't tailor them to a freaked out and nervous first-time rider. Which made his last line all the most hilarious: “Oh, and you'll be sitting right next to the pilot, so don't move your hands and feet too much or you could bump the controls.” My mind filled in the “And you could DIE!!!” and I walked out onto the landing strip convinced I was going to single-handedly crash the thing.
Mom and I both
talked after about how much we loved those rides – it's unlike anything you can imagine until you've done it. None of those bumpy airplane moments that freak me out – the helicopter takes off with a tiny bump, and there's an unsettling moment where the nose tips down for a second and it finds it's balance, but then it's a smooth ride whether you're changing altitude or turning. In about 25 seconds we'd crossed over the fields and the road and we were over the ocean and looking down on the Twelve Apostle
s. From that vantage point you can really see the waves pounding against the rocks, and all the nooks and crannies between the towers. This part of Australia is known as the 'Shipwreck Coast' for good reason. Throughout the ride, the pilot was talking to us over the massive headphones we were wearing, but it was very difficult to hear him. Thankfully all the tidbits of info
I managed to hear were elaborated on later by our guide, or else I would have been lost.
After Mom and I both landed we had about 10 minutes to run to the lookout platform and take in the spectacle from the ground, and then we all loaded into the bus and took off for our next stop, Loch Ard Gorge. There's a fascinating story behind this gorge, and if you have time you should check out
some info on it. In 1878 this ship crashed off the Shipwreck Coast as the passengers were having a nighttime party on the deck. There were only two survivors, a young man named Tom Peace and a young woman named Eva Carmichael, both age 19. He swam to shore and then heard her cries for help as she clung to
a rock. He abandoned safety to swim back out and save her, and then later climbed out of the gorge to find help for them both. It's truly remarkable once you're at the gorge, looking at the distance he had to swim (twice) and the powerful waves crashing on the huge rocks.
From there we drove a short distance to what used to be called London Bridge until it, you know, fell down. It's been called London Arch since it's collapse in 1990. Funny story about that too – when it collapsed two tourists were stranded on the top of the far rock until a news copter, eager for the exclusive, could arrive from Melbourne to rescue them. When the two, a man and a woman, saw the copter, they freaked out - the man had to be physically restrained. As soon as the copter landed in the parking lot, they ran to their car and tried to escape. Turns out that they had both called in
sick to work back in Melbourne in order to take a little romantic rendezvous, and wouldn't you know it – they were also both married to other people. So when their pictures were splashed across the front pages of all the papers the next day, they were in a heap of trouble!
That was our last stop on the GOR tour – from there it was a 2 hour drive back to Melbourne, with a brief stop at McDonads on the way. I made Mom listen to some Lucksmiths on my ipod, and all was right with the world.
Next up: The Lucksmiths!
Our first day in Melbourne was also supposed to be the sunniest, so we opted to do the Great Ocean Road tour that day. We used another small tour company (about 12 people on our bus), and though that meant the bus was older and thus less comfy we ended up getting a better tour of it, I think. First, some background: Back in the early 20th century, the leaders in Australia decided to turn The Great Ocean Road (hereby referred to as
GOR) into a tourist attraction, both to give jobs to the unemployed and to bring in tourists to the area. They built the road out and developed scenic lookout points, and people began flocking there to see the natural rock formations, cliffs, and the world-class surfing beaches.Our tour started at Bells Beach, which is apparently famous in surfing circles. The beaches and cliffs in this part of Australia reminded Mom of the northern stretches of PCH/1 in California – lots of big black rocks in the surf, and the occasional seal basking in the sun. Bells Beach technically isn't on the GOR, but most tours stop there anyway. We pulled off at the “Welcome to the GOR” sign so we could all get pictures, and our driver/guide Phil told us some interesting (and scary) facts about wildfires in the area. You might all remember those horrendous wildfires at the beginning of this year? (173 people died) Because of the terrain and climate, fires spread very fast and very hot (similar to Los Angeles, though usually with more damage and loss of life). The last time this particular part of Victoria saw wildfires (1983), they were advancing on the homes on these cliffs really quickly – thinking to save themselves, residents ran towards the ocean since the roads were blocked. What they didn't count on was the blast of scorching air that precedes a fast-moving fire (I forgot the name of this, but it's a well-known phenomenon). The air boiled the sand under their feet
and turned it to glass, and reached out over the water far enough to hit those who had run into the water. Not pleasant. The original “Welcome” sign was made of beautiful stone, and stretched over the road in an arch. But when the fires came the sign collapsed and blocked the road, so emergency vehicles couldn't reach those in need until it was cleared. Now the sign is built of wood, so it will hopefully burn, and if it collapses the charred timbers are light enough for vehicles to push their way through.
The road hugs the coast for the first part, then winds up steep roads into a rainforest-type forest, similar to what we saw in parts of New Zealand, but it's still strange to be in a rainforest so soon after being on a beach and shivering from the cold rain. (Yes, the forecast said sunny, but it rained off and on all day.....) Sometime before or after this stop, our driver pulled over onto a side road, and told us to keep a lookout for koalas. Mom and I were still shocked at the idea of seeing them in the wild, when I spotted the first one to the left of our bus. Koalas, like kangaroos, are a bit of nuisance. They travel in small groups and settle in eucalyptus trees, and once they're in the tree they rip all the leaves off and eat it. W
hen you're driving down the road you can spot where the koalas are, or recently were, by the huge swatches of naked trees right next to the road. For homeowners, once you get a koala in one of your trees you're screwed, because they won't come down until they've eaten everything there is to eat. Many eucalyptus trees in yards have enclosures around the bottom, much like people put mesh screens around trees here to prevent deer from rubbing their antlers on the bark. So, back to the koala in the tree. We soon spotted two more (they look just like bundles of sticks or moss on a bigger branch), though none of these koalas were facing us, so most of our pictures look just like, well, bundles of sticks or moss on a bigger branch.Before we got off the bus, our driver grabbed a bucket from inside and told us to stay put. He reached into the bucket and threw handfuls of birdseed in wide arcs all around him, and then told us it was safe to exit. We soon saw why – the beautiful red and green parrots that we'd seen sitting in the branchs of the trees all around us swarmed the birdseed in a massive wave of squaking bright colors. Our driver explained that if he hadn't done that, they wou
ld have swarmed us instead, because they're used to being fed. He gave out handfuls of birdseed to anyone who wanted one, and I grabbed one before I had really thought it through. Within seconds I had a parrot on my arm, and one on my head, and another on my arm, and then one on my other arm.... It was like The Birds, but with prettier birds. One girl (you can see her in my video) got absolutely mobbed – I think at one point she must have had 6 birds on her! They started to hurt after a while, because they're using your wrist to stand on, and when they have to catch their balance they dig in with their claws. And then I had of them fighting on my arm, which was less than pleasant. But that said, it was an incredible experience to be that close to such a gorgeous wild bird.From there we stopped at Apollo Bay, a small beachside town where we had lunch at a small coffee shop and cafe. Phil told us that one great thing about Melbourne is that even if you don't go to some fancy expensive restaurant, the quality of the cooking and food in the city is just so high that no matter what you get it'll blow your mind. We tested this numerous times while in Melbourne, and he was totally right. My lunch in Apollo Bay was the most amazing chicken pesto foaccaia sandwich I've ever had – the bread was so fresh and evenly toasted it melted in my mouth, and all the flavors blended so perfectly in each bite that I think I groaned in sadness when I finished. Mom had a wrap, which was similarly amazing. Our coffees were so good we actually wen
t back for a second cup after walking around town for bit. (As Matt can attest, I've been complaining every day since I've been back about the lack of excellent coffee in Los Angeles. It's just on a whole different level down in AU and NZ).The next highlight of our trip was the Twelve Apostles, which is the iconic GOR image most people see in books or on postcards. The Twelves Apostles (which used to be called the Sow and Piglets, until everyone realized that would never bring in the tourists), are twelvish rock pillars of varying size just off the coast. Due to the incredible force of the waves, rocks are constantly falling over or eroding and changing shape, and thus the
re's not always twelve of them. Here's where Mom and I did the most impulsive thing we could think of – we took a helicopter ride. Phil passed out a brochure about them as we got in the bus, and that started the gears turning – it was AU$70 for a 10 minute ride, and you got to fly low over the Apostles. Compared to the helicopter prices we'd seen elsewhere, that was a steal, and a short ride felt like a grea
t way to get on a copter for the first time. As each copter fit 3 people, and 6 people wanted to go, Mom and I ended up splitting up. As a result, though, we both ended up with the front passenger seat on our respective helicopters, and I think the views were better because of it. The company that runs the rides is a well-oiled machine – they keep their three or four helicopters constantly running, taking off with new passengers every 10 minutes. Their safety spiel is also a well-oiled machine; as a result the guy that was explaining the rules to me didn't tailor them to a freaked out and nervous first-time rider. Which made his last line all the most hilarious: “Oh, and you'll be sitting right next to the pilot, so don't move your hands and feet too much or you could bump the controls.” My mind filled in the “And you could DIE!!!” and I walked out onto the landing strip convinced I was going to single-handedly crash the thing.Mom and I both
talked after about how much we loved those rides – it's unlike anything you can imagine until you've done it. None of those bumpy airplane moments that freak me out – the helicopter takes off with a tiny bump, and there's an unsettling moment where the nose tips down for a second and it finds it's balance, but then it's a smooth ride whether you're changing altitude or turning. In about 25 seconds we'd crossed over the fields and the road and we were over the ocean and looking down on the Twelve Apostle
s. From that vantage point you can really see the waves pounding against the rocks, and all the nooks and crannies between the towers. This part of Australia is known as the 'Shipwreck Coast' for good reason. Throughout the ride, the pilot was talking to us over the massive headphones we were wearing, but it was very difficult to hear him. Thankfully all the tidbits of info
I managed to hear were elaborated on later by our guide, or else I would have been lost.After Mom and I both landed we had about 10 minutes to run to the lookout platform and take in the spectacle from the ground, and then we all loaded into the bus and took off for our next stop, Loch Ard Gorge. There's a fascinating story behind this gorge, and if you have time you should check out
some info on it. In 1878 this ship crashed off the Shipwreck Coast as the passengers were having a nighttime party on the deck. There were only two survivors, a young man named Tom Peace and a young woman named Eva Carmichael, both age 19. He swam to shore and then heard her cries for help as she clung to
a rock. He abandoned safety to swim back out and save her, and then later climbed out of the gorge to find help for them both. It's truly remarkable once you're at the gorge, looking at the distance he had to swim (twice) and the powerful waves crashing on the huge rocks.From there we drove a short distance to what used to be called London Bridge until it, you know, fell down. It's been called London Arch since it's collapse in 1990. Funny story about that too – when it collapsed two tourists were stranded on the top of the far rock until a news copter, eager for the exclusive, could arrive from Melbourne to rescue them. When the two, a man and a woman, saw the copter, they freaked out - the man had to be physically restrained. As soon as the copter landed in the parking lot, they ran to their car and tried to escape. Turns out that they had both called in
sick to work back in Melbourne in order to take a little romantic rendezvous, and wouldn't you know it – they were also both married to other people. So when their pictures were splashed across the front pages of all the papers the next day, they were in a heap of trouble!That was our last stop on the GOR tour – from there it was a 2 hour drive back to Melbourne, with a brief stop at McDonads on the way. I made Mom listen to some Lucksmiths on my ipod, and all was right with the world.
Next up: The Lucksmiths!
Friday, September 11, 2009
The Flight to Melbourne - 8/27/09
After an intense night of packing, Mom and I had a few hours in the morning to kill, so
we walked to the Botanic Gardens via this massive city park. By the way, why can't the US get it's act together? Every city we were in had parks on practically every other corner – it was mind boggling. In the interest of time I'll just say that it was a really pleasant walk, though extremely windy, and the Botanical Gardens were really neat. They had a greenhouse complex, and each greenhouse repsented a different climate. It was strange walking into the tropical one, and realizing that all of th
e plants on display grow in our backyard in Florida.
We ended up taking the bus to the airport, which was a great deal but a real adventure in lugging our bags down city blocks and onto a bus. We flew Jetstar, which is basically AU/NZ's version of Jetblue or Transair, owned by Virgin. We sat next to a guy from Melbourne (funny how that happens when flying there) who gave us some advice on the city and the best places to shop and eat. Other than that our flight was uneventful.
We went through customs again, which only gets more exciting the more you do it, and got on a shuttle to downtown. One great thing about Melbourne, which isn't really a well-kept secret, is the abundant public transportation. The shuttle to the downtown bus station cost money, but from there they had a free shuttle to local hotels. I asked
a local how they could afford to do this, and why it was free, and she looked at like me like I was a bit crazy: "Well, the public transportation system doesn't connect to the airport, so they had to do something." They do? Hear that, Los Angeles? We got to our hostel, and, well... that's another story. I promise to do a whole post soon on our various accomodations, with pictures.
we walked to the Botanic Gardens via this massive city park. By the way, why can't the US get it's act together? Every city we were in had parks on practically every other corner – it was mind boggling. In the interest of time I'll just say that it was a really pleasant walk, though extremely windy, and the Botanical Gardens were really neat. They had a greenhouse complex, and each greenhouse repsented a different climate. It was strange walking into the tropical one, and realizing that all of th
e plants on display grow in our backyard in Florida.We ended up taking the bus to the airport, which was a great deal but a real adventure in lugging our bags down city blocks and onto a bus. We flew Jetstar, which is basically AU/NZ's version of Jetblue or Transair, owned by Virgin. We sat next to a guy from Melbourne (funny how that happens when flying there) who gave us some advice on the city and the best places to shop and eat. Other than that our flight was uneventful.
We went through customs again, which only gets more exciting the more you do it, and got on a shuttle to downtown. One great thing about Melbourne, which isn't really a well-kept secret, is the abundant public transportation. The shuttle to the downtown bus station cost money, but from there they had a free shuttle to local hotels. I asked
a local how they could afford to do this, and why it was free, and she looked at like me like I was a bit crazy: "Well, the public transportation system doesn't connect to the airport, so they had to do something." They do? Hear that, Los Angeles? We got to our hostel, and, well... that's another story. I promise to do a whole post soon on our various accomodations, with pictures.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Christchurch (for real this time) 8/26
Our only full day in Christchurch and we were torn. By this point we were kinda feeling tired, and the idea of taking it slow for a day was very appealing. But then of course we started thinking about the things we wanted to see, and suddenly our day filled up!
Christchurch, first of all, feels like a cross between England and New Jersey. Gardens everywhere, what seemed to be constantly rain-soaked sidewalks, and lots of suburban homes with fences around them. The city itself is pretty flat, with mountains off on the distance, and a harbor that we never got the chance to see. We hopped on the tourist Trolley, which in hindsight was a waste of money. We toured around Cathedral Square on an antique trolley and took in the sights before jumping off to look at Christ Church Cathedral, one of the largest cathedrals in Christchurch. A quick coffee and brown bag lunch later and then the excitement begins!
When I was researching this trip the one thing I kept hearing about Christchurch was “you have to go to the Antarctic Center” so we jumped on the bus to take us out there, hoping the hype wasn’t too overrated. Christchurch is one of the main base cities for Antarctic exploration - most of the US and Italian
teams (as well as NZ) travel out of Chirstchurch, and in fact most of the missions are planned there. The Center is right next to all the buildings where the planning and some of the research takes place, so it was neat being in the middle of that. Armed with a personalized map, complete with what order to do things in so we could see it all in time, we set off for the 2:30 Penguin feeding! The penguins in question are the Blue penguins I mentioned earlier, when we saw a few in the wild on our cruise around Milford Sound. This event pales in comparision to what came later, so I won't even go into detai
ls. After the feeding Mom and I bundled up for the Artic Storm, one of the many awesome exhibits this place has. They give you thick parkas and then you open a heavy door and you're in a snow and ice-filled room, complete with huge thermometer on the wall. There's an igloo built of ice, and an ice slide, which I insisted on going down a few times – big mistake! The ice at the bottom was starting to melt a bit, and the freezing water ate through my pants in no time. Then it was time for the storm – they dimmed the lights, and start blasting freezing air through vents on the ceiling, as alarms go off. By this time there were about 20 people inside waiting, some of them not even wearing coats! To be honest, it wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be.... it got down to -1 degree F with 26 mph winds, but between the parka and the brevity of th
e storm we were able to handle it quite nicely.
Next on our list was the Hagglund, which needs a link to it's wiki entry so you can get a glimpse of what we're talking about. These vehicles are used in the Artic to ferry people and supplies across the harsh terrain, and at the Artic Center you can ride on around a specially designed course – the thrill ride of the Artic, I'd say! Mom and I were initially worried about it, as there were warnings up about not riding if you have back problems, but it turned out to be not so bad at all. We were strapped into the back along with 10 or so other people; one 10 year old boy had ridden something like 11 times already, and was excited to go again. The driver took off like a bat out of hell (part of the appeal of the ride, of course) and suddenly we were bouncing and jostling over hills and ridges, and zooming up and down hills. The driver demonstrated a few of the Hagglund's features – the design of the wheels meant it can roll over holes or gaps a meter in length without faltering, and also allow the machine to cling to the edge of hills (sideways) without toppling. At the end of the ride he showed up the machine's amphibious side by driving into a pool of water 9 ft. deep – the water came right up to the bottom of our windows!
Nothing much topped that ride for a while, as we walked around the museum section of the center and watched part of a film on Antarctica. That is, nothing much topped that until our Backstage with the Penguins tour came along! We paid extra ($20 per person, not bad) and didn't really expect the top-notch experience we ended up with. There were four of us on the tour, and our guide was the woman who'd been feeding the penguins earlier. She let us in her access door to their enclosure, so we could stand a few feet away from them and watch them swim and waddle around. Then she led us across the hall to the Rehabilitation room, where we got to pet the feathers of a stuffed p
enguin. Then all of a sudden she goes into a side room and walks out with a penguin in her arms! She lets him down onto the linoleum, where he happily starts trundling around the room, mere feet from us. I forgot his name, but he had a broken pelvis (or was it collarbone?) and was being kept there until he could be put back out in the enclosure again. She brought out another uninjured penguin, his friend, that they leave in the room with him to keep him company. The two of them gently explored the room, and our feet, while we squatted on the ground and took pictures of them. We didn't want to touch them, but just being a foot away from one was pretty amazing – they're very beautiful up close, and the blue sheen on their coats is very evident. The injured penguin was adorable; because of his injury he sat funny, so that he looked like a drunk fat man who slipped and just sprawled on the floor.
Once that was over we toured the remaining bits of the Center and learned more about the Artic. We learned about the rations the scientists take out with them, the annual polar bear swim at the station, and the things the personnel do to keep spirits up far from friends and family. We took the shuttle back into town just in time for a quick walk past some of the more interesting old buildings (the Christ Church boy's school, and the Arts Centre), and then popped back into Christ Church Cathedral for their 5:30pm Evensong (Evening Prayer in the Anglican Church). Neither Mom or
I really knew what Evensong was, but we knew their world-famous choir would be singing, and wanted to experience that. The acoustics were incredible, and the choir (all male, with about 10 boys and 10 adult men) was superb, but the service itself was strange to our Methodist ears. Almost all of it was sung; the only spoken parts were direct readings from the Bible, and there was no analysis or lesson. Even the prayers were sung, and from reading the handout we were given, it seems as though every day the same exact service is held, with different passages being read and only a few choral changes. I apologize to all my Catholic friends, but as far as a Church Service went, it was a little too Catholic for my tastes. As far as a choral performance, it was incredible.
For our last dinner in New Zealand, we ate pizza at a local instutition down the street from our hostel, called Sprags Pizzeria. We had a “Roasted Veg” pizza (potatoes, kumara/sweet potato, and we think either rutabaga or beet root) and a Chicken Apricot pizza. In an effort to cling to the kiwi-ness I would soon be leaving, I had a “honey beer” cocktail made with 42 Below manuka honey-flavored vodka. 42 Below is a NZ-based company; as far as I can tell you can buy their regular vodka in the states but not their flavored varieties. They have manuka honey, feijoa (a fruit native to NZ), passionfruit, and of course kiwi-flavored vodka.
(Because we haven't really gone into it much on this blog, let me spend a second on the manuka plant (native to NZ and AU) and the honey made from it's flowers. The Maori have utilized this plant for centuries as a form of natural medicine – tea brewed from it's leaves is supposed to have cleansing properties, and it's leaves, bark, and flowers (and thus honey) has strong anti-bacterial affects. Research is only now beginning on the actual scientific value to these claims, but personally I say if it's been used for centuries there's got to be something to it! One of the Austrailians on the trail ride I went on in Queenstown had written a paper in Uni on it's effectiveness, and she told me that some hospitals are starting use Manuka products in addition to medicines and ointments.)
Christchurch, first of all, feels like a cross between England and New Jersey. Gardens everywhere, what seemed to be constantly rain-soaked sidewalks, and lots of suburban homes with fences around them. The city itself is pretty flat, with mountains off on the distance, and a harbor that we never got the chance to see. We hopped on the tourist Trolley, which in hindsight was a waste of money. We toured around Cathedral Square on an antique trolley and took in the sights before jumping off to look at Christ Church Cathedral, one of the largest cathedrals in Christchurch. A quick coffee and brown bag lunch later and then the excitement begins!
When I was researching this trip the one thing I kept hearing about Christchurch was “you have to go to the Antarctic Center” so we jumped on the bus to take us out there, hoping the hype wasn’t too overrated. Christchurch is one of the main base cities for Antarctic exploration - most of the US and Italian
teams (as well as NZ) travel out of Chirstchurch, and in fact most of the missions are planned there. The Center is right next to all the buildings where the planning and some of the research takes place, so it was neat being in the middle of that. Armed with a personalized map, complete with what order to do things in so we could see it all in time, we set off for the 2:30 Penguin feeding! The penguins in question are the Blue penguins I mentioned earlier, when we saw a few in the wild on our cruise around Milford Sound. This event pales in comparision to what came later, so I won't even go into detai
ls. After the feeding Mom and I bundled up for the Artic Storm, one of the many awesome exhibits this place has. They give you thick parkas and then you open a heavy door and you're in a snow and ice-filled room, complete with huge thermometer on the wall. There's an igloo built of ice, and an ice slide, which I insisted on going down a few times – big mistake! The ice at the bottom was starting to melt a bit, and the freezing water ate through my pants in no time. Then it was time for the storm – they dimmed the lights, and start blasting freezing air through vents on the ceiling, as alarms go off. By this time there were about 20 people inside waiting, some of them not even wearing coats! To be honest, it wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be.... it got down to -1 degree F with 26 mph winds, but between the parka and the brevity of th
e storm we were able to handle it quite nicely.Next on our list was the Hagglund, which needs a link to it's wiki entry so you can get a glimpse of what we're talking about. These vehicles are used in the Artic to ferry people and supplies across the harsh terrain, and at the Artic Center you can ride on around a specially designed course – the thrill ride of the Artic, I'd say! Mom and I were initially worried about it, as there were warnings up about not riding if you have back problems, but it turned out to be not so bad at all. We were strapped into the back along with 10 or so other people; one 10 year old boy had ridden something like 11 times already, and was excited to go again. The driver took off like a bat out of hell (part of the appeal of the ride, of course) and suddenly we were bouncing and jostling over hills and ridges, and zooming up and down hills. The driver demonstrated a few of the Hagglund's features – the design of the wheels meant it can roll over holes or gaps a meter in length without faltering, and also allow the machine to cling to the edge of hills (sideways) without toppling. At the end of the ride he showed up the machine's amphibious side by driving into a pool of water 9 ft. deep – the water came right up to the bottom of our windows!
Nothing much topped that ride for a while, as we walked around the museum section of the center and watched part of a film on Antarctica. That is, nothing much topped that until our Backstage with the Penguins tour came along! We paid extra ($20 per person, not bad) and didn't really expect the top-notch experience we ended up with. There were four of us on the tour, and our guide was the woman who'd been feeding the penguins earlier. She let us in her access door to their enclosure, so we could stand a few feet away from them and watch them swim and waddle around. Then she led us across the hall to the Rehabilitation room, where we got to pet the feathers of a stuffed p
enguin. Then all of a sudden she goes into a side room and walks out with a penguin in her arms! She lets him down onto the linoleum, where he happily starts trundling around the room, mere feet from us. I forgot his name, but he had a broken pelvis (or was it collarbone?) and was being kept there until he could be put back out in the enclosure again. She brought out another uninjured penguin, his friend, that they leave in the room with him to keep him company. The two of them gently explored the room, and our feet, while we squatted on the ground and took pictures of them. We didn't want to touch them, but just being a foot away from one was pretty amazing – they're very beautiful up close, and the blue sheen on their coats is very evident. The injured penguin was adorable; because of his injury he sat funny, so that he looked like a drunk fat man who slipped and just sprawled on the floor.Once that was over we toured the remaining bits of the Center and learned more about the Artic. We learned about the rations the scientists take out with them, the annual polar bear swim at the station, and the things the personnel do to keep spirits up far from friends and family. We took the shuttle back into town just in time for a quick walk past some of the more interesting old buildings (the Christ Church boy's school, and the Arts Centre), and then popped back into Christ Church Cathedral for their 5:30pm Evensong (Evening Prayer in the Anglican Church). Neither Mom or
I really knew what Evensong was, but we knew their world-famous choir would be singing, and wanted to experience that. The acoustics were incredible, and the choir (all male, with about 10 boys and 10 adult men) was superb, but the service itself was strange to our Methodist ears. Almost all of it was sung; the only spoken parts were direct readings from the Bible, and there was no analysis or lesson. Even the prayers were sung, and from reading the handout we were given, it seems as though every day the same exact service is held, with different passages being read and only a few choral changes. I apologize to all my Catholic friends, but as far as a Church Service went, it was a little too Catholic for my tastes. As far as a choral performance, it was incredible.For our last dinner in New Zealand, we ate pizza at a local instutition down the street from our hostel, called Sprags Pizzeria. We had a “Roasted Veg” pizza (potatoes, kumara/sweet potato, and we think either rutabaga or beet root) and a Chicken Apricot pizza. In an effort to cling to the kiwi-ness I would soon be leaving, I had a “honey beer” cocktail made with 42 Below manuka honey-flavored vodka. 42 Below is a NZ-based company; as far as I can tell you can buy their regular vodka in the states but not their flavored varieties. They have manuka honey, feijoa (a fruit native to NZ), passionfruit, and of course kiwi-flavored vodka.
(Because we haven't really gone into it much on this blog, let me spend a second on the manuka plant (native to NZ and AU) and the honey made from it's flowers. The Maori have utilized this plant for centuries as a form of natural medicine – tea brewed from it's leaves is supposed to have cleansing properties, and it's leaves, bark, and flowers (and thus honey) has strong anti-bacterial affects. Research is only now beginning on the actual scientific value to these claims, but personally I say if it's been used for centuries there's got to be something to it! One of the Austrailians on the trail ride I went on in Queenstown had written a paper in Uni on it's effectiveness, and she told me that some hospitals are starting use Manuka products in addition to medicines and ointments.)
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Queenstown Day Two, Flight to Christchurch 8/25
Our last morning in Queenstown meant we had to put our luggage in the hotel’s storage room while we traipsed around the town, through the rain. We walked through town and shopped a bit. We found a candy store and I had a lot of fun walking around - I felt like I was in Harry Potter! All the candies were very British, and half of them were “lollies” which means candy, not lollipop. I took pictures of a few candies, and even a package of “Capri Sonne” on the shelf. Same exact packaging as Capri Sun, but spelled differently. Interesting. After shopping we grabbed a gondola and went up to Bob’s Peak for the views over the town. It had stopped raining by this point and the clouds were actually clearing up, so we could see quite a bit from up there! The ride back down was kinda scary, at least for me. The gondola lift paralleled the ground below, of course, but that ground below was at such a steep grade it was like we were in a glass elevator, practically going vertical.
We grabbed lunch at a cute little café next to an old church, and then it was time to go to the airport. Three words describe our flight to Christchurch: Holy cow, turbulence. They announced we wouldn’t be getting coffee or tea and we groaned, but then the winds hit, and I was glad they weren’t serving boiling hot beverages in the cabin. We followed the same route as before, but in reverse, so we crossed the Southern Alps first and then paralleled them for a bit over the Canterbury plains. The mountain crossing was a bit rougher than I’d like - a few sudden drops and quite a lot of minor shaking. I was glad I was with Mom, because talking to her distracted me from the drops, and I was glad when we landed.
Back at the same hostel we’d stayed in on our way to Queenstown (the Dorset House - man we loved that place to death. More on that in a separate post later), We ventured out to get some groceries to tide us over for a few days, and lived like kings with real cereal and milk. Oh boy!
We grabbed lunch at a cute little café next to an old church, and then it was time to go to the airport. Three words describe our flight to Christchurch: Holy cow, turbulence. They announced we wouldn’t be getting coffee or tea and we groaned, but then the winds hit, and I was glad they weren’t serving boiling hot beverages in the cabin. We followed the same route as before, but in reverse, so we crossed the Southern Alps first and then paralleled them for a bit over the Canterbury plains. The mountain crossing was a bit rougher than I’d like - a few sudden drops and quite a lot of minor shaking. I was glad I was with Mom, because talking to her distracted me from the drops, and I was glad when we landed.
Back at the same hostel we’d stayed in on our way to Queenstown (the Dorset House - man we loved that place to death. More on that in a separate post later), We ventured out to get some groceries to tide us over for a few days, and lived like kings with real cereal and milk. Oh boy!
Queenstown Day One: Horses and Dinner! 8/24
Morning dawned overcast and cloudy, though as we drove out of Te Anau the weather cleared up considerably. In Queenstown we checked into our hotel (the Novatel - thank you Robert and Connie for recommending it! We loved it!) and Mom went to return the rental car while I walked to catch the shuttle for a trail ride I’d decided to do: The Ride of the Rings. Yeah, it’s a horse back ride that takes you through a bunch of filming locations. I’d wanted to do a trail ride at some point on our trip, and it only seemed natural to do this one, as my LOTR sightseeing was sadly lacking. The bus drove us to Glenorchy, a small town about 45 minutes north of Queenstown, and (remarkably) about 30 km from Milford Sound.
(A quick note about geography: because of the mountains and impassable terrain, Milford Sound is only 30 km from Glenorchy, but if you wanted to drive there it’d be a five and a half hour drive! There are very few roads in this part of the South Island, until you come to the towns, because of the terrain.)
I was the second most experienced rider on the trip - one woman had owned horses before, her 12 year old daughter had ridden a few times, one girl had never been on a horse, and a guy had been on once or twice. The problem, for me at least, was that we rode English - a style I have very little familiarity with. I’m used to Western riding, where the saddle has a pommel and horn and cups you really well. English saddles tilt downwards a bit from back to front, so you have to use your legs and the stirrups to keep yourself in there. Which will be useful information for you guys to have in a bit…
We grabbed helmets and dropped off our bags and then drove another 20 minutes to a preserved area - I forgot the name of it. It’s run by a private trust whose sole goal is to keep the land untouched (ie no condos, roads, or shopping malls). When Peter Jackson first applied for permission to film on their land, they turned him down because they worried about the impact of a huge film crew on the area. He asked again, and this time gave them a $40K donation and a solemn promise to leave everything exactly as he found it, and they accepted. He also built access roads, with their permission, and it was those roads that we road along on our ride. (And by road I mean unpaved grassy track with two indentations for wheels, and that’s it) According to our tour guide (and American, believe it or not!), PJ took this very seriously. Before building sets or altering the landscape at al, he had his location dept take detailed photos of the area, and then when they moved bushes, rocks, trees, etc, they put them in a specially built greenhouse a bit out of town, and then at the end of the shoot they replanted everything where it had been. I’d forgotten how much respect I had for that man, until I heard that. The ride was great - we rode through the forest at the end of the first movie, where Boromir dies and the hobbits run from the uruk-hai (right? Or am I thinking of the wrong bad guy?), and saw most of the landscape around Isengard, and Fangorn Forest. What was funny about a few of these locations is that they were used in the LOTR movies, plus Prince Caspian (the second Narnia movie), and Wolverine. So two feet to the left is where the hobbits ran down the hill, but right here is where Caspian sounded his horn. And down there is where Saruman’s tower was inserted using CGI, but just over the river is where they built the farmhouse (that later explodes) in the beginning of Wolverine. Even coming from LA, with my knowledge of film production, I found this all pretty funny. It’s like this tiny area has become exterior location central!
Ok, back to the horseback ride. Overlooking Isengard, our guide said she was going to take our pictures, but first we had to crest a small hill. She warned us that our horses sometimes like to trot up this hill, so be wary if you’ve never trotted before. I figured I was fine - I mean c’mon, it’s a trot! Right as she finished her sentence, something spooked her horse and he took off at a flat-out gallop up this hill, which of course egged most of the other horses into doing the same thing. I managed to hold on for about 15 seconds, and then began reaching for things that weren’t there, like a pommel or a horn. Stupid English saddles. I didn’t quite fall off - more like a slow slide to the left, and then I ended up in the grass next to the path. Thankfully (this was my real worry) all the other horses avoided hitting me on their way up, and my horse stopped once he got to the top. I was fine, though the guide was worried - in the end I fell about three feet onto a patch of soft grass; I was very lucky, but I felt like an idiot. I’m going to continue to blame the saddle, and you’d all be wise to agree J
Other things of note re: the ride…. My horse, Oscar, was a movie star! One of the guides at this company (Dart Stables) rode him in the Riders of Rohan scene in the third movie. I gave him an extra pat when I found that out! Even cooler, to me anyway, is that the horse in front of me had been in Hercules! Yay for movie star horses!
Back to Queenstown: I took a bath (man, hotels are awesome after staying in a gross hostel), and then Mom and I went out for dinner. We settled on a seafood place, because we really wanted to experience the Seafood of the area. (FYI: Neither of us eat lamb, venison, or kangaroo, so that left all of the “specialty” meats out of the question on our trip) I ordered the “Cod Pie” and Mom had “groper,” not to be confused with grouper. Mom’s fish was really chewy, like a monkfish, and while she appreciated the local dish I’m not so sure she liked it too much. My fish pie was really interesting - they poured a thick stew containing chunks of fish into a fillo pastry bowl. Not something I’d order again, but I’m glad I tried it.
While I was on my ride Mom was exploring the town. Here’s what she has to say about the time we spent apart:
Queenstown perspective from Mom - very cute, small ski town sitting on edge of a gorgeous lake with snow capped mountains all around. We weren’t prepared to ski - but enjoyed the town never the less. I chose to have a relaxing time exploring the shops and took a brisk walk up to the gondola ride to check it out. It was a brilliant sunny day and I walked through a small cemetery on the hillside marveling at some of the very old tombstones. The early settlers came in the mid l850’s, and from the looks of the tombstones, many came from Ireland. Hard to imagine living here 150 years ago.
(A quick note about geography: because of the mountains and impassable terrain, Milford Sound is only 30 km from Glenorchy, but if you wanted to drive there it’d be a five and a half hour drive! There are very few roads in this part of the South Island, until you come to the towns, because of the terrain.)
I was the second most experienced rider on the trip - one woman had owned horses before, her 12 year old daughter had ridden a few times, one girl had never been on a horse, and a guy had been on once or twice. The problem, for me at least, was that we rode English - a style I have very little familiarity with. I’m used to Western riding, where the saddle has a pommel and horn and cups you really well. English saddles tilt downwards a bit from back to front, so you have to use your legs and the stirrups to keep yourself in there. Which will be useful information for you guys to have in a bit…
We grabbed helmets and dropped off our bags and then drove another 20 minutes to a preserved area - I forgot the name of it. It’s run by a private trust whose sole goal is to keep the land untouched (ie no condos, roads, or shopping malls). When Peter Jackson first applied for permission to film on their land, they turned him down because they worried about the impact of a huge film crew on the area. He asked again, and this time gave them a $40K donation and a solemn promise to leave everything exactly as he found it, and they accepted. He also built access roads, with their permission, and it was those roads that we road along on our ride. (And by road I mean unpaved grassy track with two indentations for wheels, and that’s it) According to our tour guide (and American, believe it or not!), PJ took this very seriously. Before building sets or altering the landscape at al, he had his location dept take detailed photos of the area, and then when they moved bushes, rocks, trees, etc, they put them in a specially built greenhouse a bit out of town, and then at the end of the shoot they replanted everything where it had been. I’d forgotten how much respect I had for that man, until I heard that. The ride was great - we rode through the forest at the end of the first movie, where Boromir dies and the hobbits run from the uruk-hai (right? Or am I thinking of the wrong bad guy?), and saw most of the landscape around Isengard, and Fangorn Forest. What was funny about a few of these locations is that they were used in the LOTR movies, plus Prince Caspian (the second Narnia movie), and Wolverine. So two feet to the left is where the hobbits ran down the hill, but right here is where Caspian sounded his horn. And down there is where Saruman’s tower was inserted using CGI, but just over the river is where they built the farmhouse (that later explodes) in the beginning of Wolverine. Even coming from LA, with my knowledge of film production, I found this all pretty funny. It’s like this tiny area has become exterior location central!
Ok, back to the horseback ride. Overlooking Isengard, our guide said she was going to take our pictures, but first we had to crest a small hill. She warned us that our horses sometimes like to trot up this hill, so be wary if you’ve never trotted before. I figured I was fine - I mean c’mon, it’s a trot! Right as she finished her sentence, something spooked her horse and he took off at a flat-out gallop up this hill, which of course egged most of the other horses into doing the same thing. I managed to hold on for about 15 seconds, and then began reaching for things that weren’t there, like a pommel or a horn. Stupid English saddles. I didn’t quite fall off - more like a slow slide to the left, and then I ended up in the grass next to the path. Thankfully (this was my real worry) all the other horses avoided hitting me on their way up, and my horse stopped once he got to the top. I was fine, though the guide was worried - in the end I fell about three feet onto a patch of soft grass; I was very lucky, but I felt like an idiot. I’m going to continue to blame the saddle, and you’d all be wise to agree J
Other things of note re: the ride…. My horse, Oscar, was a movie star! One of the guides at this company (Dart Stables) rode him in the Riders of Rohan scene in the third movie. I gave him an extra pat when I found that out! Even cooler, to me anyway, is that the horse in front of me had been in Hercules! Yay for movie star horses!
Back to Queenstown: I took a bath (man, hotels are awesome after staying in a gross hostel), and then Mom and I went out for dinner. We settled on a seafood place, because we really wanted to experience the Seafood of the area. (FYI: Neither of us eat lamb, venison, or kangaroo, so that left all of the “specialty” meats out of the question on our trip) I ordered the “Cod Pie” and Mom had “groper,” not to be confused with grouper. Mom’s fish was really chewy, like a monkfish, and while she appreciated the local dish I’m not so sure she liked it too much. My fish pie was really interesting - they poured a thick stew containing chunks of fish into a fillo pastry bowl. Not something I’d order again, but I’m glad I tried it.
While I was on my ride Mom was exploring the town. Here’s what she has to say about the time we spent apart:
Queenstown perspective from Mom - very cute, small ski town sitting on edge of a gorgeous lake with snow capped mountains all around. We weren’t prepared to ski - but enjoyed the town never the less. I chose to have a relaxing time exploring the shops and took a brisk walk up to the gondola ride to check it out. It was a brilliant sunny day and I walked through a small cemetery on the hillside marveling at some of the very old tombstones. The early settlers came in the mid l850’s, and from the looks of the tombstones, many came from Ireland. Hard to imagine living here 150 years ago.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
We're back!
This blog may be 8 days behind in the scheme of things, but in the real world Mom and I returned today - back to the heat, smog, and crazy driving of LA. Well, Mom's flying into Florida as I write this (she should have just taken off from Dallas on her last leg) but she'll have to deal with humidity on top of everything; quite a shock coming from 60F weather in Melbourne!
I, of course, am dealing with wildfires outside my apartment. If my nose wasn't so stuffed up I'm sure I'd be smelling smoke, but for now the fire is far enough away that I don't really need to worry about it. (Though I will confess to freaking out a bit when I overheard, on the radio in a store in Melbourne, that there was a huge fire in LA. And then when I glanced at a newspaper and saw that there was an evacuation in effect for Glendale... didn't help matters.)
I promise more posts soon, with pictures to come!
I, of course, am dealing with wildfires outside my apartment. If my nose wasn't so stuffed up I'm sure I'd be smelling smoke, but for now the fire is far enough away that I don't really need to worry about it. (Though I will confess to freaking out a bit when I overheard, on the radio in a store in Melbourne, that there was a huge fire in LA. And then when I glanced at a newspaper and saw that there was an evacuation in effect for Glendale... didn't help matters.)
I promise more posts soon, with pictures to come!
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Milford and Glow Worms - 8/23
(It's been so hard to find internet! Here's a post I wrote about a week ago!)
(This is very long-winded - sorry about that! It was a big day!)
I’ll be honest: After spending so much time thinking about this day of our trip, a part of me was terrified it wasn’t going to live up to my expectations. But morning dawned clear and bright, with no clouds and lots of sun. Apparently it rains 300 out of 365 days at Milford, and we were lucky enough to hit one of those rare 65 days! We took a Milford tour offered by Tracknet, a local company that provides transportation for trampers (I’ll explain later). It was called Piopiotahi, which is the Maori name for Milford Sound. The tour was great - only 8 people on our small bus, and our energetic and informative tour guide Steve kept us entertained. One thing I’ve loved about our organized bus tours is that usually you end up learning more from the guide/driver over the loudspeaker than you do at whatever attraction you’re driving to.
The reason we chose this tour company is that they offer a more personalized service (not the 70-seater buses common at the Sound), and they offer a lot of photo opportunities and a 30-minute bushwalk. The drive from Te Anau to Milford Sound (this is the only way to get to Milford, and it takes about 2 hrs) is considered one of the most beautiful in the world, and the scenery ranges from gently rolling lakeside views to native NZ beech forests to waterfalls to stunning mountain peaks high above you. We got out and walked around at the Mirror lakes, small ponds that are so still they (you guessed it) mirror the mountains above them. We went for a 10 minute walk along the path to a waterfalls that flows with so much force it’s carved crazy whorls and holes into the rocks around it. And we played in snow, briefly, outside the Avalanche monitoring station just before passing through the Homer Tunnel. Avalanches are a huge problem on the road to Milford - just a few weeks ago the road was closed for 10 days while they cleared it due to avalanches. The scientists monitoring the area have a system worked out - they can detect, using instruments placed at regular points high up on the mounain slopes, when the snowfall is getting to be too much for a particular area. Instead of letting the avalanche happen at random, and possibly squishing a bus under it, the team drops explosives on the affected area, after safely closing the road. The blast sets off the avalanche, and the team is able to predict it’s path and clean it up without anyone being in danger.
The Homer tunnel is pretty scary - one way, with 2 passing bays located near the entrances. It is nearly a mile long carved through solid granite. Until a few years ago there were no lights whatsoever inside - the busses and cars would just enter the black hole in the mountain and head for the tiny pinprick of light at the other end. Now there’s faint tracking lights running along the top of the tunnel -just enough to show you the raw, unreinforced, stone the tunnel was cut out of. Once you break through to the other side of the tunnel you begin your descent into the sound. Now the road get scary, especially when you consider that it’s frequently covered in ice or snow, and you’re passing massive tour busses. You snake your way down the side of a steep mountain via switchback, roads until you’re finally at the bottom, and then, with little ceremony, you’re at the harbor for the Milford Sound cruise. There’s no town there to speak of, just one lodge that’s closed in winter. Basically the town consists of the parking lot for the boat tours.
Our boat was operated by Real Journeys, which I’ll talk more about later. There are stories worth of passenger decks, and of course we had to try them all out before finding the one that suited us! The sound isn’t really a sound - it’s a fiord. But it was named back in the 1800s when it was first discovered (by the Europeans, at least) and they incorrectly labeled it a sound. The cliffs on either side are huge, some capped with snow. Because of the melting snow, there were tons of small waterfalls cascading down into the water below, and rainbows abounded. I have to admit, after trying to describe this darn place for two sentences, that it’s very hard to put words to. Once we get some pictures uploaded I think they’ll speak for themselves, but for now I guess you should do an image search on google for “Milford Sound” to figure out what Im’ talking about.
Some highlights:
-We came alongside a pod of dolphins that swam with us for a while - probably 6 adults and two babies? It was so incredibly bizarre seeing dolphins swimming with snow in the background, because we’re so accustomed to the dolphins back in Florida. It seems more natural to see dolphins in a tropical setting, I guess. These were bottlenose dolphins as well, but a different species of them I think.
-As we emerged from the Sound into the Tasman Sea (our boat did a slow circle in the open water - very choppy!- and then went back into the Sound), we saw a tiny Blue penguin on a rock. Or rather, Mom saw it, and the guy on the P.A,. system saw it, but I had the darndest time picking out that time little penguin on a rock 500 yards away. Blue penguins (also called Fairy penguins, in Australia) are the smallest penguins in the world, and have a bluish sheen to their feathers/fur. More about those later!
As we came out onto the Tasman Sea, the wind picked up and we had to bundle up in our jackets and pull our hoods up. Wool scarves were definitely needed, especially up on the top deck which was exhilarating.
-On two separate occasions we saw fur seals basking in the sunlight on big rocks jutting out of the sea. The guide told us that they were probably adolescent male seals who had recently been kicked out of the pack (do seals have packs? Herds? Groups?) because they were getting old enough to pose a threat tto the dominant males.
-One of the highlights of any Real Journeys Milford trip is that they get up close and personal with the waterfalls cascading off the cliffs above. Dad, you would have loved it! Twice they pulled the boat right up to the cliff face, with the bow about 20 feet from it, so the waterfalls would cascade over it. The wind carried enough spray to us (we were standing on the back open deck) to chill us to the bones. They then reversed the boat with such daredevil prowess that Mom and I kept thinking we were going to bash into the rocks on either side of us!
Like I said, I’ll add photos later, so for now that’s it about Milford!
Once we got back to Te Anau we grabbed a quite bite to eat (from Subway, the only food place open in this town after 5pm) and ate our sandwiches by the lake as large puffy clouds turned pink and iridescent as the sun was setting over the mountains. Temperature was dropping and boarded the Real Journeys boat at 7 p.m. to head across the lake for the Glow Worm tour. This was a catamaran, which meant a slightly less choppy ride. Though for a lake, it was pretty choppy ride! Basically the way it worked was you rode across the lake for about 20 minutes and then disembarked at dock, where a path led you to the visitor’s center. Only three groups (of 12 people) can be in the caves at once, and we were lucky enough to be the first group to go. (We may or may not have casually pushed our way to the front of the mob in order to accomplish this. Maybe.)
The caves were fascinating - I haven’t been in a cave in years (I think I was 14?) and neither had Mom. The entrance was tricky - you actually had to bend over almost double and do an awkward shuffle walk for the first 5 meters or so. The walkway is primarily made of metal, or stone at times, and it’s coated with a rubber mat to prevent slipping since it’s so damp in the caves. Once we stood up straight we gasped - we were alongside a stream which was cutting it’s way through the cave floor. As we progressed on the path the sound of rushing water grew steadily louder until it became a roar The entire cave at this point was probably 10 feet wide, and at it’s widest it got to about 20 feet wide. We paralleled the stream the entire way, stopping at a few places to look at a whirl that had formed in a deep stream pocket, at a “the cathedral”, the tallest point of the cave system.
As we walked we were steadily climbing (at one point the stream turned into a waterfall briefly), and as we reached the top we came upon a small dock with two narrow boats tied up. We climbed in and our guide warned us (again) not to take any pictures or video at all or to make any noise. Both light and noise scare the gloworms into turning off their glow. In a way the ride was almost more special because we have no pictures of it - it will live on solely in our memories. As we pushed off in the boat (we were propelled by our guide, standing on the bow and pulling us along using a chain mounted to the ceiling) we moved into complete and utter darkness. As we moved away from the waterfall behind us the sound of the roaring water diminished completely and then it was eerily silent, except for the slight sound of our boat making ripples in the stream. At this point I had a lot of fun closing and opening my eyes - there was no difference between closed or open the darkness was so complete. When clusters of glow worms started appearing, looking like tiny blue pinpricks of light overhead, it was a complete shock. We had entered the “grotto”, where a few large clusters of glow worms were visible in a small space. Our guide circled us around three or so times so we could take it all in; it was hard to judge distance in the dark but I’d guess we were three or four feet away from where the worms were.
I should pause here and talk a bit about the glow worm (oh boy! Learning!) so you can understand why it glows. Basically the worm, which it reaches this stage of it’s life, crawls up to a nice-looking rock (it must be very moist) and sets up shop. Like a spider spinning a web, the worm secretes a thin “fishing line” that it drops down from the rock. It has maybe 5-10 of these in a small area around it, and then it just sits up there and glows (from it’s bum, really) which attracts bugs to it. When the bugs try to fly to the light, they get caught on one of it’s sticky fishing lines, and the worm feels the vibrations and pulls the line up to eat the insect. It’s light grows brighter the hungrier it is, and if it’s just eaten it might dim it’s light completely, as it doesn’t need a meal. They’re very territorial though, and if another worm sets up shop too close to it, the more established one might eat the newcomer. Eww. So the reason they told us not to try to touch the gloworms is a) to protect them, and b) to protect us from getting covered in gross sticky stuff!
Boy this post is long! Ok, to wrap up…. We learned a bit about the attraction once we got back to the visitor’s center. The man who rediscovered the caves (in the 40s) used to charge admission and show people the caves. He set up wooden boardwalks but they were pretty dangerous, as they rotted quickly in the damp air. Real Journeys (back when they had a different name) bought the attraction from him in the 60s or 70, and cleaned it up and turned it into a big attraction. They had to build the grotto boats inside the cave - they weight something like 2.2 metric tons and can’t fit through the cave entrance, and they had to build the walkways using special equipment (and wetsuits!) as the cave is so hard to navigate. Real Journeys, it turns out, is a local Te Anau company that had the bright idea, back in the 60s and 70s to start offering tourists easy ways to experience Fiordland. Now it’s a huge company employing hundred of people, and they run tours in Milford Sound, Te Anau, and Queenstown (From what we can tell). Their board of directors still meet in Te Anau. We’ve noticed a lot of pride in NZ when a company is 100% kiwi owned, as foreign interests have crept into the profitable NZ tourism arena, and it was real pleasure getting to deal with Real Journeys.
To really wrap it up (promise!), the boat ride back was spectacular if only because it was now about 9pm and very dark, so we sat up on the top deck (in the freeeeezing wind!) and looked at the stars. The Milky Way was prominent, as was the Southern Cross constellation, and millions of other stars stretched across the sky as well.
Mom says:
“In the boat, as we returned back across the lake, we bundled up with our scarves, mittens, hats, hoods, and went up to the top deck. The boat was probably going at least 40 mph (yeah, I know , it really is in knots ….) and as we climbed to the top deck, the icy wind was bracing. But the climb up and the cold was so worth it as we were rewarded with millions of stars, and a quarter moon. Breathtaking! Trine stretched out on the cold metal bench so she could look up at the stars. What an awesome way to end an absolutely stunning day in the South Island.”)
(This is very long-winded - sorry about that! It was a big day!)
I’ll be honest: After spending so much time thinking about this day of our trip, a part of me was terrified it wasn’t going to live up to my expectations. But morning dawned clear and bright, with no clouds and lots of sun. Apparently it rains 300 out of 365 days at Milford, and we were lucky enough to hit one of those rare 65 days! We took a Milford tour offered by Tracknet, a local company that provides transportation for trampers (I’ll explain later). It was called Piopiotahi, which is the Maori name for Milford Sound. The tour was great - only 8 people on our small bus, and our energetic and informative tour guide Steve kept us entertained. One thing I’ve loved about our organized bus tours is that usually you end up learning more from the guide/driver over the loudspeaker than you do at whatever attraction you’re driving to.
The reason we chose this tour company is that they offer a more personalized service (not the 70-seater buses common at the Sound), and they offer a lot of photo opportunities and a 30-minute bushwalk. The drive from Te Anau to Milford Sound (this is the only way to get to Milford, and it takes about 2 hrs) is considered one of the most beautiful in the world, and the scenery ranges from gently rolling lakeside views to native NZ beech forests to waterfalls to stunning mountain peaks high above you. We got out and walked around at the Mirror lakes, small ponds that are so still they (you guessed it) mirror the mountains above them. We went for a 10 minute walk along the path to a waterfalls that flows with so much force it’s carved crazy whorls and holes into the rocks around it. And we played in snow, briefly, outside the Avalanche monitoring station just before passing through the Homer Tunnel. Avalanches are a huge problem on the road to Milford - just a few weeks ago the road was closed for 10 days while they cleared it due to avalanches. The scientists monitoring the area have a system worked out - they can detect, using instruments placed at regular points high up on the mounain slopes, when the snowfall is getting to be too much for a particular area. Instead of letting the avalanche happen at random, and possibly squishing a bus under it, the team drops explosives on the affected area, after safely closing the road. The blast sets off the avalanche, and the team is able to predict it’s path and clean it up without anyone being in danger.
The Homer tunnel is pretty scary - one way, with 2 passing bays located near the entrances. It is nearly a mile long carved through solid granite. Until a few years ago there were no lights whatsoever inside - the busses and cars would just enter the black hole in the mountain and head for the tiny pinprick of light at the other end. Now there’s faint tracking lights running along the top of the tunnel -just enough to show you the raw, unreinforced, stone the tunnel was cut out of. Once you break through to the other side of the tunnel you begin your descent into the sound. Now the road get scary, especially when you consider that it’s frequently covered in ice or snow, and you’re passing massive tour busses. You snake your way down the side of a steep mountain via switchback, roads until you’re finally at the bottom, and then, with little ceremony, you’re at the harbor for the Milford Sound cruise. There’s no town there to speak of, just one lodge that’s closed in winter. Basically the town consists of the parking lot for the boat tours.
Our boat was operated by Real Journeys, which I’ll talk more about later. There are stories worth of passenger decks, and of course we had to try them all out before finding the one that suited us! The sound isn’t really a sound - it’s a fiord. But it was named back in the 1800s when it was first discovered (by the Europeans, at least) and they incorrectly labeled it a sound. The cliffs on either side are huge, some capped with snow. Because of the melting snow, there were tons of small waterfalls cascading down into the water below, and rainbows abounded. I have to admit, after trying to describe this darn place for two sentences, that it’s very hard to put words to. Once we get some pictures uploaded I think they’ll speak for themselves, but for now I guess you should do an image search on google for “Milford Sound” to figure out what Im’ talking about.
Some highlights:
-We came alongside a pod of dolphins that swam with us for a while - probably 6 adults and two babies? It was so incredibly bizarre seeing dolphins swimming with snow in the background, because we’re so accustomed to the dolphins back in Florida. It seems more natural to see dolphins in a tropical setting, I guess. These were bottlenose dolphins as well, but a different species of them I think.
-As we emerged from the Sound into the Tasman Sea (our boat did a slow circle in the open water - very choppy!- and then went back into the Sound), we saw a tiny Blue penguin on a rock. Or rather, Mom saw it, and the guy on the P.A,. system saw it, but I had the darndest time picking out that time little penguin on a rock 500 yards away. Blue penguins (also called Fairy penguins, in Australia) are the smallest penguins in the world, and have a bluish sheen to their feathers/fur. More about those later!
As we came out onto the Tasman Sea, the wind picked up and we had to bundle up in our jackets and pull our hoods up. Wool scarves were definitely needed, especially up on the top deck which was exhilarating.
-On two separate occasions we saw fur seals basking in the sunlight on big rocks jutting out of the sea. The guide told us that they were probably adolescent male seals who had recently been kicked out of the pack (do seals have packs? Herds? Groups?) because they were getting old enough to pose a threat tto the dominant males.
-One of the highlights of any Real Journeys Milford trip is that they get up close and personal with the waterfalls cascading off the cliffs above. Dad, you would have loved it! Twice they pulled the boat right up to the cliff face, with the bow about 20 feet from it, so the waterfalls would cascade over it. The wind carried enough spray to us (we were standing on the back open deck) to chill us to the bones. They then reversed the boat with such daredevil prowess that Mom and I kept thinking we were going to bash into the rocks on either side of us!
Like I said, I’ll add photos later, so for now that’s it about Milford!
Once we got back to Te Anau we grabbed a quite bite to eat (from Subway, the only food place open in this town after 5pm) and ate our sandwiches by the lake as large puffy clouds turned pink and iridescent as the sun was setting over the mountains. Temperature was dropping and boarded the Real Journeys boat at 7 p.m. to head across the lake for the Glow Worm tour. This was a catamaran, which meant a slightly less choppy ride. Though for a lake, it was pretty choppy ride! Basically the way it worked was you rode across the lake for about 20 minutes and then disembarked at dock, where a path led you to the visitor’s center. Only three groups (of 12 people) can be in the caves at once, and we were lucky enough to be the first group to go. (We may or may not have casually pushed our way to the front of the mob in order to accomplish this. Maybe.)
The caves were fascinating - I haven’t been in a cave in years (I think I was 14?) and neither had Mom. The entrance was tricky - you actually had to bend over almost double and do an awkward shuffle walk for the first 5 meters or so. The walkway is primarily made of metal, or stone at times, and it’s coated with a rubber mat to prevent slipping since it’s so damp in the caves. Once we stood up straight we gasped - we were alongside a stream which was cutting it’s way through the cave floor. As we progressed on the path the sound of rushing water grew steadily louder until it became a roar The entire cave at this point was probably 10 feet wide, and at it’s widest it got to about 20 feet wide. We paralleled the stream the entire way, stopping at a few places to look at a whirl that had formed in a deep stream pocket, at a “the cathedral”, the tallest point of the cave system.
As we walked we were steadily climbing (at one point the stream turned into a waterfall briefly), and as we reached the top we came upon a small dock with two narrow boats tied up. We climbed in and our guide warned us (again) not to take any pictures or video at all or to make any noise. Both light and noise scare the gloworms into turning off their glow. In a way the ride was almost more special because we have no pictures of it - it will live on solely in our memories. As we pushed off in the boat (we were propelled by our guide, standing on the bow and pulling us along using a chain mounted to the ceiling) we moved into complete and utter darkness. As we moved away from the waterfall behind us the sound of the roaring water diminished completely and then it was eerily silent, except for the slight sound of our boat making ripples in the stream. At this point I had a lot of fun closing and opening my eyes - there was no difference between closed or open the darkness was so complete. When clusters of glow worms started appearing, looking like tiny blue pinpricks of light overhead, it was a complete shock. We had entered the “grotto”, where a few large clusters of glow worms were visible in a small space. Our guide circled us around three or so times so we could take it all in; it was hard to judge distance in the dark but I’d guess we were three or four feet away from where the worms were.
I should pause here and talk a bit about the glow worm (oh boy! Learning!) so you can understand why it glows. Basically the worm, which it reaches this stage of it’s life, crawls up to a nice-looking rock (it must be very moist) and sets up shop. Like a spider spinning a web, the worm secretes a thin “fishing line” that it drops down from the rock. It has maybe 5-10 of these in a small area around it, and then it just sits up there and glows (from it’s bum, really) which attracts bugs to it. When the bugs try to fly to the light, they get caught on one of it’s sticky fishing lines, and the worm feels the vibrations and pulls the line up to eat the insect. It’s light grows brighter the hungrier it is, and if it’s just eaten it might dim it’s light completely, as it doesn’t need a meal. They’re very territorial though, and if another worm sets up shop too close to it, the more established one might eat the newcomer. Eww. So the reason they told us not to try to touch the gloworms is a) to protect them, and b) to protect us from getting covered in gross sticky stuff!
Boy this post is long! Ok, to wrap up…. We learned a bit about the attraction once we got back to the visitor’s center. The man who rediscovered the caves (in the 40s) used to charge admission and show people the caves. He set up wooden boardwalks but they were pretty dangerous, as they rotted quickly in the damp air. Real Journeys (back when they had a different name) bought the attraction from him in the 60s or 70, and cleaned it up and turned it into a big attraction. They had to build the grotto boats inside the cave - they weight something like 2.2 metric tons and can’t fit through the cave entrance, and they had to build the walkways using special equipment (and wetsuits!) as the cave is so hard to navigate. Real Journeys, it turns out, is a local Te Anau company that had the bright idea, back in the 60s and 70s to start offering tourists easy ways to experience Fiordland. Now it’s a huge company employing hundred of people, and they run tours in Milford Sound, Te Anau, and Queenstown (From what we can tell). Their board of directors still meet in Te Anau. We’ve noticed a lot of pride in NZ when a company is 100% kiwi owned, as foreign interests have crept into the profitable NZ tourism arena, and it was real pleasure getting to deal with Real Journeys.
To really wrap it up (promise!), the boat ride back was spectacular if only because it was now about 9pm and very dark, so we sat up on the top deck (in the freeeeezing wind!) and looked at the stars. The Milky Way was prominent, as was the Southern Cross constellation, and millions of other stars stretched across the sky as well.
Mom says:
“In the boat, as we returned back across the lake, we bundled up with our scarves, mittens, hats, hoods, and went up to the top deck. The boat was probably going at least 40 mph (yeah, I know , it really is in knots ….) and as we climbed to the top deck, the icy wind was bracing. But the climb up and the cold was so worth it as we were rewarded with millions of stars, and a quarter moon. Breathtaking! Trine stretched out on the cold metal bench so she could look up at the stars. What an awesome way to end an absolutely stunning day in the South Island.”)
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Arriving on the West Coast....8/22/08
We basically spent the night in Christchurch and then left the next morning - our sightseeing time in the city will come later, when we’re spending two nights there. One thing I have to mention about flying in New Zealand - it’s bizarre. Obviously there hasn’t been a 9/11 here to really kick airport security into high gear, but still - you basically print your boarding pass and check your bags (all without anyone requesting a photo ID) and then walk to the gate. There’s no metal detector, and no security at the gate - it’s right next to a coffee stand across the hall from your baggage check. They do have dogs roaming about, accompanied by security personnel, who sniff bags at random. From our experience, half the time the dog is sniffing because the person is carrying some kind of food in their bag, so we’re not quite sure how effective it is.
The flight to Queenstown was pretty stunning. Immediately after takeoff you’re flying over the Canterbury plains - a patchwork of multi-colored fields stretching as far as the eye can see. The flight path takes us along the Southern Alps for a time, and then crosses over. Along the way you’re looking down on miles upon miles of snowcapped peaks, hidden mountain lakes, and deep valleys. In a word; gorgeous. We saw New Zealand’s highest mountain, Aoraki Mt. Cook, but from the air it didn’t look that tall at all! As we approached Queenstown, mom looked out the window and said “I think I see our runway over there!” To which I replied “Can’t be! That’s way too small to be a runway!” And of course it was our airport, uncomfortably close to the lake’s edge, and with only one major runway (despite the massive international flights that arrive/depart from the airport). We landed with lots of room to spare, since we were flying in a small 80 person plane with propellers (eek!) on the wings. We saw a Jetstar jet land though, and that runway looked way too small for that plane.
Upon landing we grabbed our rental car (for the record- much much nicer than the car we had on the North Island), and drove into town for a quick bite to eat and a look around. We didn’t do much besides shop and walk along the lake, and then mom grabbed a sandwich from Subway while I went for “takeaway kebab” which, despite the name, is just a gryo. Can’t figure out why they call it kebab. Then we set off for the two and a half hour drive to Te Anau, where we were going to stay for two nights. The drive was not too bad. The first hour the road ran beside a lake, and was pretty hilly and narrow (a lot like a West Virginia mountain curvy road), but then we drove through farmland and the road straightened out a lot. We couldn’t stop staring at the fields we were passing - dotted with thousands of sheep and looking for all the world like West Virginia, but then when you looked higher you realized the whole tableau was ringed by massive snow-capped peaks.
We arrived into Te Anau just before sunset and stopped off to get groceries before checking in at our hostel. IT was much colder here and we bundled up in coats, hats and scarves. Te Anau is a small town, with a few main streets and two supermarkets. In the winter half of it seems shut - at least as far as restaurants and hotels go. But it was the pefect base for our Milford Sound tour (the next day) because it was small and quiet and very picturesque. It’s situated on the appropriately named Lake Te Anau, the largest lake on the South Island. Across the lake, the ever-present snowy mountains provided a great backdrop for the few pictures we were able to take before the fog rolled in. We grabbed dinner at a local hangout. I had bangers and mash (sausages and mashed potatoes) and mom, horrified at my choice, had blue cod, the local specialty.
Our hostel was, well, a hostel. I’m planning w hole entry later detailing our various accomodations, but let’s just say that our previous hostels (in Auckland and Christchurch) had been classy and clean places with a welcoming sense about them. This place was dirty and cold and oddly laid-out, and the people were very strange.
Next up: Milford Sound, and Glow Worms!
The flight to Queenstown was pretty stunning. Immediately after takeoff you’re flying over the Canterbury plains - a patchwork of multi-colored fields stretching as far as the eye can see. The flight path takes us along the Southern Alps for a time, and then crosses over. Along the way you’re looking down on miles upon miles of snowcapped peaks, hidden mountain lakes, and deep valleys. In a word; gorgeous. We saw New Zealand’s highest mountain, Aoraki Mt. Cook, but from the air it didn’t look that tall at all! As we approached Queenstown, mom looked out the window and said “I think I see our runway over there!” To which I replied “Can’t be! That’s way too small to be a runway!” And of course it was our airport, uncomfortably close to the lake’s edge, and with only one major runway (despite the massive international flights that arrive/depart from the airport). We landed with lots of room to spare, since we were flying in a small 80 person plane with propellers (eek!) on the wings. We saw a Jetstar jet land though, and that runway looked way too small for that plane.
Upon landing we grabbed our rental car (for the record- much much nicer than the car we had on the North Island), and drove into town for a quick bite to eat and a look around. We didn’t do much besides shop and walk along the lake, and then mom grabbed a sandwich from Subway while I went for “takeaway kebab” which, despite the name, is just a gryo. Can’t figure out why they call it kebab. Then we set off for the two and a half hour drive to Te Anau, where we were going to stay for two nights. The drive was not too bad. The first hour the road ran beside a lake, and was pretty hilly and narrow (a lot like a West Virginia mountain curvy road), but then we drove through farmland and the road straightened out a lot. We couldn’t stop staring at the fields we were passing - dotted with thousands of sheep and looking for all the world like West Virginia, but then when you looked higher you realized the whole tableau was ringed by massive snow-capped peaks.
We arrived into Te Anau just before sunset and stopped off to get groceries before checking in at our hostel. IT was much colder here and we bundled up in coats, hats and scarves. Te Anau is a small town, with a few main streets and two supermarkets. In the winter half of it seems shut - at least as far as restaurants and hotels go. But it was the pefect base for our Milford Sound tour (the next day) because it was small and quiet and very picturesque. It’s situated on the appropriately named Lake Te Anau, the largest lake on the South Island. Across the lake, the ever-present snowy mountains provided a great backdrop for the few pictures we were able to take before the fog rolled in. We grabbed dinner at a local hangout. I had bangers and mash (sausages and mashed potatoes) and mom, horrified at my choice, had blue cod, the local specialty.
Our hostel was, well, a hostel. I’m planning w hole entry later detailing our various accomodations, but let’s just say that our previous hostels (in Auckland and Christchurch) had been classy and clean places with a welcoming sense about them. This place was dirty and cold and oddly laid-out, and the people were very strange.
Next up: Milford Sound, and Glow Worms!
Goodbye NZ!!
Even though I haven't posted about the last few days (three days of awesomeness are as yet unread by you!!), we're leaving New Zealand tomorrow. We're both kinda sad about it - NZ has been absolutely wonderful, and of course there's still a lot more to see here. But for a short visit we hit all the highlights, and haven't regretted a thing! I'm personally very exicited to head to Australia, because it means I'm that much closer to the final Lucksmiths concert!
A brief teaser from Mom before we go (yet another pay computer - $1 gives us 20 minutes)....
"Today temperatures in Christchurch were spring-like; much warmed than we've experienced thus far. Christchurch is built like an English town - gardens and flowers are everwhere, and there are many cathedrals and churches. After a brisk walk to Cathedral Square, we boarded the tram and explored the city. I was thrilled by the spring-time flowers: the daffodils, tulips, and many flowering trees along the Avon river. (Katrina laughs at my flower obsession! Ok, Katrina typed this while mom dicatate, and Katrina chose the word obsession over a more subtle and suitable word, such as love.)
The best part of our day was the visit to the Antartic Center, "the coolest classroom on earth" according to the brochure. We learned all about Antartica, but we'll tell you about that later! We'll tease you with the following tidbits: Hagglund ride, up close and personal with the blue penguins, and an artic storm that left us freeeeezing!"
A brief teaser from Mom before we go (yet another pay computer - $1 gives us 20 minutes)....
"Today temperatures in Christchurch were spring-like; much warmed than we've experienced thus far. Christchurch is built like an English town - gardens and flowers are everwhere, and there are many cathedrals and churches. After a brisk walk to Cathedral Square, we boarded the tram and explored the city. I was thrilled by the spring-time flowers: the daffodils, tulips, and many flowering trees along the Avon river. (Katrina laughs at my flower obsession! Ok, Katrina typed this while mom dicatate, and Katrina chose the word obsession over a more subtle and suitable word, such as love.)
The best part of our day was the visit to the Antartic Center, "the coolest classroom on earth" according to the brochure. We learned all about Antartica, but we'll tell you about that later! We'll tease you with the following tidbits: Hagglund ride, up close and personal with the blue penguins, and an artic storm that left us freeeeezing!"
Monday, August 24, 2009
One Photo! (and third post in one night!)
After wrestling with flikr (and this internet connection) for far too long, here's the only photo I could get to upload! I went on a "Ride of the Rings" horseback ride today (more on that later), and this is the view down onto the Dart River, aka Minas Tirith aka a bunch of other things. This valley was used numerous times in LOTR, and also in Prince Caspian and the new Wolverine movie.
Leaving Wellington, and the Ferry and Train to Picton 8/21
(Two posts in one night, cause internet is so hard to come by! Read the one below this first)
We got up bright and early and took a shuttle to the ferry station, to catch our Interislander ferry between the islands. In many ways, this was our absolute favorite day, because of the wide variety of people we met. We were standing outside watching semi-trucks drive onto our ferry (truly fascinating - we got lots of pictures for you dad!), when mom struck up a conversation with a woman next to her. We got to talking, and she gave us lots of tips about the ferry - where to sit, what the ride’s like, etc. We chatted as we boarded the ship, and found out she was a lecturer (professor) at a University in Hamilton (just south of Auckland), who taught literature. She didn’t like to fly, and so was taking the ferry and the train to Christchurch, just like us. We parted on the ferry, though we kept running into her on the decks. As we entered the straits at the tip of the South Island, mom struck up a conversation with two older men next to us - truck drivers who’d driven their big rigs on earlier. They told us that the docks we were passing were mussel farms - most of the New Zealand green mussels you buy overseas come from this part of New Zealand.
The scenery, both as we left the North Island and made our way through the fiords to the South Island, was beautiful. The ferry trip was about 2 and a half hours total, and only about the middle hour takes place at “open” sea - you can see both land masses the entire time. It got a bit choppy out there, but nothing too bad. We kept cycling through the inside and outside seating, so we could see all the sights and stay warm. We bumped into our lecturer friend a few more times, and we chatted about various things. We met a family, in the inside cabin, who seemed to be British. The mother talked to us a bit about the South Island, and their little son (adorable, maybe about 6?) kept warming us that it was “Freeeeeezing!!” down there. (It’s not) The husband was insistent we do the Shotover Jet Rides in Queenstown, though we had no intention of doing any such thing.
As we neared Picton, the harbor town on the south island where the ferry stops, we met up with our lecturer friend again, and asked her some questions about the train and how to get there. We ended up following her off the ferry, and that’s when we finally learned her name - Kirsten. Or Kirsteen? We’re not that sure about the spelling J Picton is a tiny town who sole purpose seems to be the ferry stopping point, and the beginning of the Tranzcoastal train to Christchurch. We got our tickets for the train, and discovered they assign seats based on when you pick the tickets up, as we ended up sitting across a small table from Kirsten. Here’s where our journey got really crazy, but first I’ll tell you about the trip itself.
The train is pretty tiny - about 6 cars long, and one of those cars is an open air picture-taking car. The seats were old and lumpy and cramped. We traveled along the coast for the majority of the journey, and at times we could see seals sunning themselves on the rocks. We passed through miles and miles of pastureland, both for sheep and cows, and lots of tiny one-stop towns. The biggest surprise was about halfway through, when Kirtsen told me to look out the window facing backwards - suddenly huge snow covered peaks were visible. We began traveling along the Southern Alps at this point, with the mountains on side and the sea on the other. The trip was about 5 hours long, and if not for our seatmates it might have been unbearable….
So. Our car held about 25 people, arranged in small groups of four around little tables. Ourt of those 25, about 15 of them had got on in Blenheim, the next major town south of Picton, and they were all traveling to Christchurch for a big rugby match. As Kirsten put it, oh so politely, “rugby attracts a certain…jkind… of fan.” THey were loud, drunk, and very very excited to be traveling to support their small team as they took on a larger one with more money. Apparently their tiny poor team had been on a bit of a winining streak, beating bigger teams with matching jerseys, etc, so their game across Christchurch was a biggie. (Sounds like a movie, doesn’t it? Starring Russell Crowe in ten years, maybe?) So suffice it to say our car was loud, filled with laughter, and our tiny bathroom was frequently in use by drunk people. By the end of the night, when we entered our car after walking to get tea, the smell of beer hit us like a sledgehammer when we opened that door.
As I mentioned above (boy I’m long-winded today!) this would have been unbearable if not for our seatmates. Across from us was Kirsten, who did her best to drown out the noise with an ipod and a book. Across from her was this fascinating man who barely ever talked, and when he did he appeared very uncomfortable with the whole process. He was from Virginia Beach, but had moved to Vietnam two years ago with his wife so she could teach physical therapy. He was touring NZ alone for something like two or three months. Across the aisle from us was a man named Barry, who was pretty hysterical. He’d been a school teacher and/or principal for the last 42 years, and in fact had taught a large portion of the drunk 30-somethings sitting behind us. He’d stand up and glower at them, and they’d yell out (Before he had to say a thing) “Settle down!” He was a world traveler - just toured Easter Europe, and then spent time in Dubai. He was a local man through and through, and in fact had played rugby in his youth, for either the team he was traveling to cheer on or an older team that was now defunct - we don’t recall. His friend Steven (or Stephen?) was interesting as well - about fifteen years younger, and had spent time as a fisherman before becoming a mussel farmer. From him we learned how mussels are grown (there’s an entire industry devoted to selling mussel eggs to farmers!) and we learned of the fishermen’s hatred of seals because they eat all the good fish. Next to them was a British woman who was traveling alone, who had taken a “fear of flying” course before leaving England so she could make the trip. We think her name was Katie, but we didn’t write it down and thus forgot it.
So in the midst of this loud and crazy train car, the 7 of us chatted for hours on end, learning about each other and the various countries we all hailed from. This is when we learned Kirsten is writing a book about the history of the piano in colonial New Zealand, and that she was on her way to Dunedin to take a meeting with her publisher - fascinating stuff! There’s more chatting I could mention but I don’t want to bore you guys. Mom and I ate quite a bit on the train, since we’d been eating almonds, apples, and granola bars for the last three meals. They had little food packs you could buy and they’d heat them up - I had a beef casserole which was surprising yummy, and mom had vegetarian lasagna. We also had, for the first time ever, Devonshire tea: two scones, tea, cream, butter and jam. Very yummy! We figure if it was this good on a train it had to be even better at a real restaurant!
So that was it for our big day of travel. We exchanged email addresses with everyone, and I showed Barry how to play Brain Age on the Nintendo DS my amazing boyfriend bought me, and then we arrived into Christchurch!
Next up: Flying to Queenstown, and Te Anau!
We got up bright and early and took a shuttle to the ferry station, to catch our Interislander ferry between the islands. In many ways, this was our absolute favorite day, because of the wide variety of people we met. We were standing outside watching semi-trucks drive onto our ferry (truly fascinating - we got lots of pictures for you dad!), when mom struck up a conversation with a woman next to her. We got to talking, and she gave us lots of tips about the ferry - where to sit, what the ride’s like, etc. We chatted as we boarded the ship, and found out she was a lecturer (professor) at a University in Hamilton (just south of Auckland), who taught literature. She didn’t like to fly, and so was taking the ferry and the train to Christchurch, just like us. We parted on the ferry, though we kept running into her on the decks. As we entered the straits at the tip of the South Island, mom struck up a conversation with two older men next to us - truck drivers who’d driven their big rigs on earlier. They told us that the docks we were passing were mussel farms - most of the New Zealand green mussels you buy overseas come from this part of New Zealand.
The scenery, both as we left the North Island and made our way through the fiords to the South Island, was beautiful. The ferry trip was about 2 and a half hours total, and only about the middle hour takes place at “open” sea - you can see both land masses the entire time. It got a bit choppy out there, but nothing too bad. We kept cycling through the inside and outside seating, so we could see all the sights and stay warm. We bumped into our lecturer friend a few more times, and we chatted about various things. We met a family, in the inside cabin, who seemed to be British. The mother talked to us a bit about the South Island, and their little son (adorable, maybe about 6?) kept warming us that it was “Freeeeeezing!!” down there. (It’s not) The husband was insistent we do the Shotover Jet Rides in Queenstown, though we had no intention of doing any such thing.
As we neared Picton, the harbor town on the south island where the ferry stops, we met up with our lecturer friend again, and asked her some questions about the train and how to get there. We ended up following her off the ferry, and that’s when we finally learned her name - Kirsten. Or Kirsteen? We’re not that sure about the spelling J Picton is a tiny town who sole purpose seems to be the ferry stopping point, and the beginning of the Tranzcoastal train to Christchurch. We got our tickets for the train, and discovered they assign seats based on when you pick the tickets up, as we ended up sitting across a small table from Kirsten. Here’s where our journey got really crazy, but first I’ll tell you about the trip itself.
The train is pretty tiny - about 6 cars long, and one of those cars is an open air picture-taking car. The seats were old and lumpy and cramped. We traveled along the coast for the majority of the journey, and at times we could see seals sunning themselves on the rocks. We passed through miles and miles of pastureland, both for sheep and cows, and lots of tiny one-stop towns. The biggest surprise was about halfway through, when Kirtsen told me to look out the window facing backwards - suddenly huge snow covered peaks were visible. We began traveling along the Southern Alps at this point, with the mountains on side and the sea on the other. The trip was about 5 hours long, and if not for our seatmates it might have been unbearable….
So. Our car held about 25 people, arranged in small groups of four around little tables. Ourt of those 25, about 15 of them had got on in Blenheim, the next major town south of Picton, and they were all traveling to Christchurch for a big rugby match. As Kirsten put it, oh so politely, “rugby attracts a certain…jkind… of fan.” THey were loud, drunk, and very very excited to be traveling to support their small team as they took on a larger one with more money. Apparently their tiny poor team had been on a bit of a winining streak, beating bigger teams with matching jerseys, etc, so their game across Christchurch was a biggie. (Sounds like a movie, doesn’t it? Starring Russell Crowe in ten years, maybe?) So suffice it to say our car was loud, filled with laughter, and our tiny bathroom was frequently in use by drunk people. By the end of the night, when we entered our car after walking to get tea, the smell of beer hit us like a sledgehammer when we opened that door.
As I mentioned above (boy I’m long-winded today!) this would have been unbearable if not for our seatmates. Across from us was Kirsten, who did her best to drown out the noise with an ipod and a book. Across from her was this fascinating man who barely ever talked, and when he did he appeared very uncomfortable with the whole process. He was from Virginia Beach, but had moved to Vietnam two years ago with his wife so she could teach physical therapy. He was touring NZ alone for something like two or three months. Across the aisle from us was a man named Barry, who was pretty hysterical. He’d been a school teacher and/or principal for the last 42 years, and in fact had taught a large portion of the drunk 30-somethings sitting behind us. He’d stand up and glower at them, and they’d yell out (Before he had to say a thing) “Settle down!” He was a world traveler - just toured Easter Europe, and then spent time in Dubai. He was a local man through and through, and in fact had played rugby in his youth, for either the team he was traveling to cheer on or an older team that was now defunct - we don’t recall. His friend Steven (or Stephen?) was interesting as well - about fifteen years younger, and had spent time as a fisherman before becoming a mussel farmer. From him we learned how mussels are grown (there’s an entire industry devoted to selling mussel eggs to farmers!) and we learned of the fishermen’s hatred of seals because they eat all the good fish. Next to them was a British woman who was traveling alone, who had taken a “fear of flying” course before leaving England so she could make the trip. We think her name was Katie, but we didn’t write it down and thus forgot it.
So in the midst of this loud and crazy train car, the 7 of us chatted for hours on end, learning about each other and the various countries we all hailed from. This is when we learned Kirsten is writing a book about the history of the piano in colonial New Zealand, and that she was on her way to Dunedin to take a meeting with her publisher - fascinating stuff! There’s more chatting I could mention but I don’t want to bore you guys. Mom and I ate quite a bit on the train, since we’d been eating almonds, apples, and granola bars for the last three meals. They had little food packs you could buy and they’d heat them up - I had a beef casserole which was surprising yummy, and mom had vegetarian lasagna. We also had, for the first time ever, Devonshire tea: two scones, tea, cream, butter and jam. Very yummy! We figure if it was this good on a train it had to be even better at a real restaurant!
So that was it for our big day of travel. We exchanged email addresses with everyone, and I showed Barry how to play Brain Age on the Nintendo DS my amazing boyfriend bought me, and then we arrived into Christchurch!
Next up: Flying to Queenstown, and Te Anau!
Wellington: Our one full day in the city 8/20
In the morning we had to return the rental car, which as you may have guessed was a nightmare. Once again we were driving through downtown in rush hour, trying to find the rental car place near the ferry dock. One thing I didn’t mention in the other Wellington post was that the road names change names constantly, and it’s a little little city. In the space of 10 blocks half the streets have changed names three times already. After we finally turned the car in we ended up walking back into town, about a fifteen minute walk.
We passed this great billboard (which I got a picture of!) for a local coffee chain. It had a photo of a Starbucks cup with the Starbuck’s logo all blurred out, and the words “Well, at least they got their President right.” I love seeing ads or commercials that reference the US when I’m overseas - it really gives a glimpse into how other countries view us. The interesting thing is that while there are Starbucks here, there aren’t as many as I would have thought. (Subways, on the other hand, are everywhere. You wouldn't believe how many Subways we've seen. Also, of course, KFC's, McDonald's, and Burger King. But fast food joints here are super nice - we saw a Burger King that was nicer than most restaurants back in LA!)
After the walk (and some inadvertent shopping - it’s really hard to tear mom away from a store!) we took the iconic cable car up to the top of the Botanic Gardens. Built in the early 1900’s, it shared a lot of similarities with the funicular we often took in Bergamo Italy- it even had a stop at Victoria University, so the crowd was much the same as the Bergamo funicular. The views were gorgeous, of course, but the real treat was the Botanic Gardens. It’s little wonder kiwis are so skinny, with lush city parks like this one to walk in every day. We were quickly exhausted, since all the paths we picked seemed to be nearly vertical. We passed a woman who must have been 80 or 90 years old, patiently walking up a steep slope with what must have been her daughter. What great exercise! We felt bad for being exhausted J
Back down in the city, we headed for Cuba street and the infamous Bucket Fountain. Very few people besides my LOTR friends will understand the significance of this fountain, whose notoriety concerns a drunk Elijah Wood and some, uh, inappropriate urination. My friend Caity (hi Caity!) made shirts for herself, Connie, and I in college that said “Bucket Fountain Climbers” so I had to find that fountain. In real life it’s very low key, situated next to a playground and a small café. I took a picture next to it and then we moved on, towards another LOTR sight I wanted to snap a picture of - the Embassy Theatre, where LOTR: Return of the King premiered to thousands (hundreds of thousands?) of screaming fans, clogging the streets.
Then it was on to Te Papa, the National Museum of New Zealand, and a truly amazing (and free!) experience. It’s a very modern museum, no stuffy things behind glass here - everything is displayed in an organic way, with easy to read displays and a great synthesis of the different displays in each section. We experienced a small earthquake in a purpose-built house exhibit, and spent far too much time reading personal accounts of immigrant’s voyages to NZ in the 1800s - very fascinating. My favorite quote, which I can’t quite remember, was written by someone approaching NZ on a ship and went something like, “We thought the hills were extremely rocky, and we thought there was no way we could possibly farm it, until we saw the rocks move - they were sheep! More sheep than I’d ever seen in my life!”(FYI: It still looks like this!)
Another great exhibit was set up like the cabin of an old airplane - we sat in the seats and watched a looping video where they interviewed people who came to NZ in the 1900s, either by plane or ship. There was a Polish man who escaped Nazis to come here, and thought he’d gone to heaven, and a Scottish woman who came here when she was 15 and hated it at first, and even more stories. It really brought to life that period in New Zealand history. Speaking of NZ history, we sat down for a brief video (experience, really) where we took a tour through kiwi nostalgia. The theatre was set up like an old junk shop, and as the video began to play, lights hit various items in the shop which then came alive. Tin soldiers moved during WWII footage, a baby’s crib rocked over photos of kiwi children growing up. It was interesting because on one hand, this exact same video could be presented in America and it would work, but on the other hand it was uniquely kiwi. The anti-nuclear protests, the ferry disaster, the Maori march, etc, are all experiences unique to those who grew up in New Zealand.
On top of these cultural exhibits there were also exhibits on the animals and flora of the islands, and the Maori people and their history here, as well as geothermal phenomenon and earthquakes. There was also this cool room (mom and I can’t remember the name right now) with a massive topographic map of New Zealand on the floor. It was brightly lit up, and the room was dark, and when you stepped on a tile that region lit up. Mom and I traced our journey across the country by walking across the room, and noticed geographic features we hadn’t noticed.
After Te Papa we grabbed dinner at a funny little place - it was billed as American Southwest/Kiwi fusion, so we knew we had to try it. They had a few authentic Mexican type dishes on the menu, though they didn’t have any margaritas at the bar. We ended up splitting a pizza and a salad, and really enjoyed both. The warm chicken salad had chicken, baby gherkins (pickles - yuck!), brie cheese, tomatoes, on spring greens, with a cilantro lime dressing. The pizza was also chicken and brie, with “streaky bacon” and plum sauce. One quick thing I have to mention, for the benefit of my wonderful boyfriend (hi dear!), is the bacon here. More often than not, the word “bacon” is used to mean ham. For real. Not even a pancetta-like ham, fried in the skillet or anything. Just straight up thick cut ham. Sometimes we’ll se the words “streaky bacon” which seems to refer to bacon as we know it, though that’s not always a reliable indicator as sometimes we’ll order something with bacon in it, and actually get bacon. Can’t quite figure that out.
Oh! Another food thing: Hokey Pokey. I want to ask a kiwi what that is, but near as we can tell it’s a sugary dessert type thing, sold in bags in the candy aisle. They have hokey pokey flavored ice creams and chocolate, but we don’t often see real hokey pokey. Something else to figure out!!
*I didn’t mention this earlier, but for those who don’t know, Wellington is stretched on a narrow piece of land next to the crescent-shaped harbor. About six blocks from the water the steep hills begin, which seems to be the beginning of some of the suburbs. We were on the 22nd floor of our hotel, and we entered on what we thought was the ground level but turned out to be level 8. The first floor ended up being on the street below (south-ish) the street we entered on - it’s that steep.
We passed this great billboard (which I got a picture of!) for a local coffee chain. It had a photo of a Starbucks cup with the Starbuck’s logo all blurred out, and the words “Well, at least they got their President right.” I love seeing ads or commercials that reference the US when I’m overseas - it really gives a glimpse into how other countries view us. The interesting thing is that while there are Starbucks here, there aren’t as many as I would have thought. (Subways, on the other hand, are everywhere. You wouldn't believe how many Subways we've seen. Also, of course, KFC's, McDonald's, and Burger King. But fast food joints here are super nice - we saw a Burger King that was nicer than most restaurants back in LA!)
After the walk (and some inadvertent shopping - it’s really hard to tear mom away from a store!) we took the iconic cable car up to the top of the Botanic Gardens. Built in the early 1900’s, it shared a lot of similarities with the funicular we often took in Bergamo Italy- it even had a stop at Victoria University, so the crowd was much the same as the Bergamo funicular. The views were gorgeous, of course, but the real treat was the Botanic Gardens. It’s little wonder kiwis are so skinny, with lush city parks like this one to walk in every day. We were quickly exhausted, since all the paths we picked seemed to be nearly vertical. We passed a woman who must have been 80 or 90 years old, patiently walking up a steep slope with what must have been her daughter. What great exercise! We felt bad for being exhausted J
Back down in the city, we headed for Cuba street and the infamous Bucket Fountain. Very few people besides my LOTR friends will understand the significance of this fountain, whose notoriety concerns a drunk Elijah Wood and some, uh, inappropriate urination. My friend Caity (hi Caity!) made shirts for herself, Connie, and I in college that said “Bucket Fountain Climbers” so I had to find that fountain. In real life it’s very low key, situated next to a playground and a small café. I took a picture next to it and then we moved on, towards another LOTR sight I wanted to snap a picture of - the Embassy Theatre, where LOTR: Return of the King premiered to thousands (hundreds of thousands?) of screaming fans, clogging the streets.
Then it was on to Te Papa, the National Museum of New Zealand, and a truly amazing (and free!) experience. It’s a very modern museum, no stuffy things behind glass here - everything is displayed in an organic way, with easy to read displays and a great synthesis of the different displays in each section. We experienced a small earthquake in a purpose-built house exhibit, and spent far too much time reading personal accounts of immigrant’s voyages to NZ in the 1800s - very fascinating. My favorite quote, which I can’t quite remember, was written by someone approaching NZ on a ship and went something like, “We thought the hills were extremely rocky, and we thought there was no way we could possibly farm it, until we saw the rocks move - they were sheep! More sheep than I’d ever seen in my life!”(FYI: It still looks like this!)
Another great exhibit was set up like the cabin of an old airplane - we sat in the seats and watched a looping video where they interviewed people who came to NZ in the 1900s, either by plane or ship. There was a Polish man who escaped Nazis to come here, and thought he’d gone to heaven, and a Scottish woman who came here when she was 15 and hated it at first, and even more stories. It really brought to life that period in New Zealand history. Speaking of NZ history, we sat down for a brief video (experience, really) where we took a tour through kiwi nostalgia. The theatre was set up like an old junk shop, and as the video began to play, lights hit various items in the shop which then came alive. Tin soldiers moved during WWII footage, a baby’s crib rocked over photos of kiwi children growing up. It was interesting because on one hand, this exact same video could be presented in America and it would work, but on the other hand it was uniquely kiwi. The anti-nuclear protests, the ferry disaster, the Maori march, etc, are all experiences unique to those who grew up in New Zealand.
On top of these cultural exhibits there were also exhibits on the animals and flora of the islands, and the Maori people and their history here, as well as geothermal phenomenon and earthquakes. There was also this cool room (mom and I can’t remember the name right now) with a massive topographic map of New Zealand on the floor. It was brightly lit up, and the room was dark, and when you stepped on a tile that region lit up. Mom and I traced our journey across the country by walking across the room, and noticed geographic features we hadn’t noticed.
After Te Papa we grabbed dinner at a funny little place - it was billed as American Southwest/Kiwi fusion, so we knew we had to try it. They had a few authentic Mexican type dishes on the menu, though they didn’t have any margaritas at the bar. We ended up splitting a pizza and a salad, and really enjoyed both. The warm chicken salad had chicken, baby gherkins (pickles - yuck!), brie cheese, tomatoes, on spring greens, with a cilantro lime dressing. The pizza was also chicken and brie, with “streaky bacon” and plum sauce. One quick thing I have to mention, for the benefit of my wonderful boyfriend (hi dear!), is the bacon here. More often than not, the word “bacon” is used to mean ham. For real. Not even a pancetta-like ham, fried in the skillet or anything. Just straight up thick cut ham. Sometimes we’ll se the words “streaky bacon” which seems to refer to bacon as we know it, though that’s not always a reliable indicator as sometimes we’ll order something with bacon in it, and actually get bacon. Can’t quite figure that out.
Oh! Another food thing: Hokey Pokey. I want to ask a kiwi what that is, but near as we can tell it’s a sugary dessert type thing, sold in bags in the candy aisle. They have hokey pokey flavored ice creams and chocolate, but we don’t often see real hokey pokey. Something else to figure out!!
*I didn’t mention this earlier, but for those who don’t know, Wellington is stretched on a narrow piece of land next to the crescent-shaped harbor. About six blocks from the water the steep hills begin, which seems to be the beginning of some of the suburbs. We were on the 22nd floor of our hotel, and we entered on what we thought was the ground level but turned out to be level 8. The first floor ended up being on the street below (south-ish) the street we entered on - it’s that steep.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
The Road to Milford....a teaser!
We're in the hostel in Te Anau right now, with a wonky internet situation. The long and the short of it is that I typed up a massive entry on the laptop, but we can't get on the internet with the laptop (wont' work) so I'm using the desktop in the game room here. So instead of posting that big ol' entry, here's a little teaser Mom wrote about our day today. If I'm good I'll have a proper post about today up in, oh, about five days ;)
"This morning dawned sunny and clear, but a little bracing. Trine and I ate breakfast of cereal, toast, and honey, and packed up a lunch of peanut butter sandwiches with banana and honey to take on our bus trip to Milford Sound. The small bus picked us up about 8:30 am and there were only 8 of us. The driver and guide, Steve, was a faunt of information and kept us educated and informed every mile of the way as we drove along Lake Te Anua. The snow capped mountains rimmed the lake and are just beautiful. Along the way we stopped at various places. My favorite was Mirror Lakes. We walked along a moist boardwalk under the dripping trees to the small lakes where the morning sun reflected the mountains and large conifer trees on its surface. Later we took a short 30 min walk throught the forest. Or as he called it - the Bush. Every tree was covered in dark green moss and the trail was dark and swampy. Steve gave us a running commentary on all the trees and wildlife as he led us to the edge of a glacial lake where the wind was whipping down from the mountains making white caps on the water. More gorgeous waterfalls and chasm stop offs as we continued up the narror mountain road to the top of the pass at Homer Tunnel - highest point 960 meters (what the heck is a meter again?)... which I know is pretty high in elevation. The tunnel was chiseled out of the granit and was a mile long ... very scary to drive through... it is one way with some turnouts for passing vehicles the other direction. "
To be continued!!
"This morning dawned sunny and clear, but a little bracing. Trine and I ate breakfast of cereal, toast, and honey, and packed up a lunch of peanut butter sandwiches with banana and honey to take on our bus trip to Milford Sound. The small bus picked us up about 8:30 am and there were only 8 of us. The driver and guide, Steve, was a faunt of information and kept us educated and informed every mile of the way as we drove along Lake Te Anua. The snow capped mountains rimmed the lake and are just beautiful. Along the way we stopped at various places. My favorite was Mirror Lakes. We walked along a moist boardwalk under the dripping trees to the small lakes where the morning sun reflected the mountains and large conifer trees on its surface. Later we took a short 30 min walk throught the forest. Or as he called it - the Bush. Every tree was covered in dark green moss and the trail was dark and swampy. Steve gave us a running commentary on all the trees and wildlife as he led us to the edge of a glacial lake where the wind was whipping down from the mountains making white caps on the water. More gorgeous waterfalls and chasm stop offs as we continued up the narror mountain road to the top of the pass at Homer Tunnel - highest point 960 meters (what the heck is a meter again?)... which I know is pretty high in elevation. The tunnel was chiseled out of the granit and was a mile long ... very scary to drive through... it is one way with some turnouts for passing vehicles the other direction. "
To be continued!!
Friday, August 21, 2009
More driving excitement, plus snow! 8/19
After our relaxing time in Rotorua we jumped into the rental car and took off for Wellington, in the rain. Mom was sick and I was stressed from driving, so we made a lovely pair as we drove south to Taupo, which is nestled on the largest lake in the southern hemisphere. I wish it hadn’t been overcast because we could barely glimpse the vastness of the lake as we drove alongside it. North of the town is Huka Falls, a very short (maybe 6 feet tall?) waterfall, with enough water flowing over it every second to fill two (!) Olympic-sized swimming pools. The entire lake drains into this one small waterfall, so the force of the water is just astonishing.
After that brief stop the real driving begins. Depending on traffic, Rotorua to Wellington is about six hours, though for us it ended up being seven and a half. One of the most bizarre things about New Zealand is the vastly different terrain you can cover all in one day. South of Taupo is gently rolling hills covered in sheep and trees (to be honest, ¾ f the North Island is gently rolling hills covered in sheep and trees. No joke.), and then suddenly you pass a sign for a National Park, and the terrain instantly becomes a little more barren. As you continue, it’s alpine trees mixed with a whole lot of nothing, which devolves into nothing, and suddenly you’re on the Desert Road. Not a true desert, of course, but three massive volcanic mountains on the west side of the road create a shadow where traditional kiwi vegetation doesn’t grow, and thus it looks desert-ish. One of these mountains, Mt. Ruapehu, was shot extensively in LOTR, so I was especially excited to grab a few pics, except that the rain was pouring down and the mist had settled so that we couldn’t see anything but the low hills directly in front of us. So no mountains for us. Instead, we got snow!
As we slowly climbed the low hills we increased in elevation, and all of a sudden the rain turned to sleet, which turned quickly to big wet snowflakes falling all around us. Of course this meant we had to get outside and play in it, because snow is such a rare occurrence for us - I haven’t seen snow falling from the sky since I was 12. We made a few snowballs and took a few pictures (and laughed at the British couple doing the same thing, only in shorts and flipflops!).
The rest of the drive was uneventful, and we arrived in Wellington just as rush hour hit. Oh boy. Speaking as someone familiar with Los Angeles traffic, driving in Wellington was horrible. Our hotel was in the business part of town, which was bumper to bumper, with pedestrians darting out in front of you every half a block. The setting sun was in our eyes, and half the streets are vertical straight up the side of the hill. Once you figured out how to get back down again you inevitably wound up on a one way street going, you guessed it, the way you absolutely did not want to go. Mom and I estimate it took us 45 minutes from first passing by our hotel to finally find it again, and we actually had to pull over at one point because we were so giddy with fear that we couldn’t stop laughing. Did I mention that all of these streets are tiny, and we were whipping by parked cars with barely an inch between us and their mirrors.
Our first evening in Wellington we walked down to Courtney Place and had an excellent Indian dinner at the Great India restaurant (Mom’s first!) before walking back to the hotel room. Our hotel was pretty nice, though our rooms were on the 22nd floor - the top floor. The hotel was undergoing renovation (hence our expedia discounts) and only one elevator was working for all those floors. The plus side was we managed to meet a lot of cool people waiting in various lobbies for that darn elevator to arrive.
That’s it for now. Must catch up soon!
(**Funny story, by the way. Mom and I have been sending postcards like mad, with the stamps that we bought with the postcards. $1.50 for an international postcard, or so we were told. We found out yesterday that the price went up in July, to $1.70, and no one that was selling us the $1.50 stamps told us. So I’m guessing maybe some of those postcards might go through, if the postmaster is feeling generous. The rest will go to the great unclaimed postcard heaven, never to be seen by it’s intended recipient. So….. If you don’t get a postcard, don’t feel bad because chance are we totally sent you one and it never made it out of the country. I swear!)
(Also! To answer a few questions - yes, the water here does swirl the opposite way in toilets, etc, but to be honest you barely notice it. The toilets here are so different from those in the US that the water doesn’t really swirl at all - the flush sends jets of water practically straight down into the bowl, without room for swirling. )
Yum!
One of my favorite things when in a new country is familiarizing myself with the food. I’m not talking about local fish delicacies, or even what types of fruits are available (though I’m still upset that I’m in NZ and still haven’t had a fejioa). I love the food they serve in vending machines, at gas stations, and in the premade aisle at the supermarket. Potato chips are everywhere, though they’re all salt and vinegar or chicken flavored. We saw some crackers today that were “flavors of the world” themed, with one flavor being “Texas BBQ.“ It’s actually pretty hard to find pretzels because chips are just everywhere. Mom and I finally got the chance to go to a supermarket in Wellington, and I marveled at the frozen hangi dinners and the lukewarm meat pies, and the prevalence of premade Indian food. Savory pies and muffins are everywhere, and today mom and I had “melties“, which was just cheese and veggies inside a calzone-type shell, heated up. I love seeing fairy bread, which seems to be just be sweet bread with marshmallows basked inside, everywhere we go.
Fairy Bread is one of the many different foods where I’m not sure if it’s a NZ (or NZ and Aussie) thing, or if it’s a British thing known to many countries besides the one I’m in. Like on the day we found the Bucket Fountain (!) in Wellington. Mom and I eat had a pot of tea and shared a banana flapjack in a diner/café/coffeeshop called Mr. Bun, while watching a pigeon hopping from table to table inside the restaurant. So: banana flapjacks. Basically, it’s sliced bananas and custard rolled inside something that’s not quite a pancake but not thin enough to be a crepe. Is that a British thing or not?
Obviously kiwis are big on tea, being a former British colony and all. Personally there’s only so many times a day I can have black tea before I start to gag at the sight of it - I love tea to death, but black tea is so boring. Coffees here are strange (British?), with a whole different terminology. That didn’t surprise me in a place like Italy, but when you’re speaking the same language it’s hard having a different vocabulary. For instance, from what we can tell a “short black” is espresso, while a “long black” is what we consider coffee, but is for all intents and purposes pretty nasty. (It’s espresso plus water, resulting in a bitter sludge) We’ve decided it’s far better to only order cappuccinos or “flat whites” (basically a cappuccino with very little foam) because the milk is included and the bitterness is gone. Also, a lot of coffee shops put the milk and sugar in for you, instead of having a little station. Also, the marshmellows they use here, for hot chocolate and desserts, are all fat medium-sized pink and white dudes. None of those little ones we get in the states, or any of the huge, s’more-style marshmellows. Only these pink and white oblong squishy jobs that never fully dissolve in a cup of hot chocolate.
Today on the train to Christchurch (I wrote this entry over the course of three days, so excuse any weird time jumps) Mom and I had Devonshire tea for the first time - two scones with butter, jam, and clotted cream. YUM!!!! (We made our seatmate get a pic of us, which is incredibly dorky but hysterical)
That’s it for now on the food front. I’m sure I’ll be updating more about it later.
(Though I do have to mention that the tap water here is phenomenal. In Rotorua it was like drinking chilled alpine spring water - crisp and refreshing. Even in Auckland and Wellington, the two biggest cities in NZ, the tap water is a thousand times better than Zephyrhills, Sparkletts, or Aquafina. They do something to our tap water in the US to aerate it, making it not very refreshing. Here that’s not the case at all, and I’m going to miss it so much when I leave!)
(Katrina)
Fairy Bread is one of the many different foods where I’m not sure if it’s a NZ (or NZ and Aussie) thing, or if it’s a British thing known to many countries besides the one I’m in. Like on the day we found the Bucket Fountain (!) in Wellington. Mom and I eat had a pot of tea and shared a banana flapjack in a diner/café/coffeeshop called Mr. Bun, while watching a pigeon hopping from table to table inside the restaurant. So: banana flapjacks. Basically, it’s sliced bananas and custard rolled inside something that’s not quite a pancake but not thin enough to be a crepe. Is that a British thing or not?
Obviously kiwis are big on tea, being a former British colony and all. Personally there’s only so many times a day I can have black tea before I start to gag at the sight of it - I love tea to death, but black tea is so boring. Coffees here are strange (British?), with a whole different terminology. That didn’t surprise me in a place like Italy, but when you’re speaking the same language it’s hard having a different vocabulary. For instance, from what we can tell a “short black” is espresso, while a “long black” is what we consider coffee, but is for all intents and purposes pretty nasty. (It’s espresso plus water, resulting in a bitter sludge) We’ve decided it’s far better to only order cappuccinos or “flat whites” (basically a cappuccino with very little foam) because the milk is included and the bitterness is gone. Also, a lot of coffee shops put the milk and sugar in for you, instead of having a little station. Also, the marshmellows they use here, for hot chocolate and desserts, are all fat medium-sized pink and white dudes. None of those little ones we get in the states, or any of the huge, s’more-style marshmellows. Only these pink and white oblong squishy jobs that never fully dissolve in a cup of hot chocolate.
Today on the train to Christchurch (I wrote this entry over the course of three days, so excuse any weird time jumps) Mom and I had Devonshire tea for the first time - two scones with butter, jam, and clotted cream. YUM!!!! (We made our seatmate get a pic of us, which is incredibly dorky but hysterical)
That’s it for now on the food front. I’m sure I’ll be updating more about it later.
(Though I do have to mention that the tap water here is phenomenal. In Rotorua it was like drinking chilled alpine spring water - crisp and refreshing. Even in Auckland and Wellington, the two biggest cities in NZ, the tap water is a thousand times better than Zephyrhills, Sparkletts, or Aquafina. They do something to our tap water in the US to aerate it, making it not very refreshing. Here that’s not the case at all, and I’m going to miss it so much when I leave!)
(Katrina)
Thursday, August 20, 2009
A quickie!
We're in the Ferry Terminal in Wellington, and internet is $2 for 20 minutes, so we figured why not? We got the laptop power situation working, so expect more posts in the coming days. We're going to have a relaxing day of travel today- 3 hr ferry across the strait and a 5 hour train ride down the coast. Both are supposed to be stunning (especially with this weather - chilly but no rain means crystal clear skies)...even with the scenery I think we;'ll still have time to write up some posts on mom's laptop. It's so easy to forgot things once your vacation is over, and we're both eager to set down our memories as soon as possible. I'm not even keeping a real journal, since this is practically the same thing (and trust me, ths will be much easier to readin 20 years than my crappy handwriting!)...
We'll go into more detail later, but we saw real snow on our drive down to Wellington - it came out of nowhere and was gone 10 minutes later, but there were at least 4 inches on the ground and there was a pretty heavy snowfall. I got really excited - haven't seen snow fall since I was 12! :)
Ok that's it for now, time is running out. Thinking of you all on our travels!
We'll go into more detail later, but we saw real snow on our drive down to Wellington - it came out of nowhere and was gone 10 minutes later, but there were at least 4 inches on the ground and there was a pretty heavy snowfall. I got really excited - haven't seen snow fall since I was 12! :)
Ok that's it for now, time is running out. Thinking of you all on our travels!
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Rotorua, driving on the left, and demons! 8/17 & 8/18
On our last day in Auckland, we took plunge and rented a car. I still can't believe they rented to us, because we looked like we had no idea what we were doing. After that initial left turn, and a merge lane, we were riding pretty good. After driving on the left for two days I have to say it's not horrible, unless you have to drive through a roundabout, a stop sign, any kind of intersection, a passing lane, or a pedestrian walkway. You know, so everything else is fine :) The roundabouts are actually pretty awesome - the rare stoplights are oddly timed and take five minutes to cycle through, so roundabouts save you a lot of time. We always try to take a moment when we get back in our car to remember the whole "left" thing, and usually we're ok. One interesting thing about the roads is how small they are - the major highway isn't very major at all, at times turning into a two lane road with stoplights through the heart of small towns. Most every highway here (at least outside of the major cities) is two lane, with passing lanes every few kilometers.
We first took the car on a Katrina Excursion... I wanted to find a particular beach where they shot a bunch of scenes from Hercules: The Legendary Journeys. Before you ask, yes that show is the reason I've wanted to go to NZ since I was 12. I predate LOTR by years, people! Anyway, we ended up getting a tad bit lost, but we stumbled upon a beautiful beach instead - Muriwai. It's famous for surfing, and for a gannet colony that nests there during the summer.
Next it was off to Rotorua - about a three hour drive through rolling green (and I mean green!) hills. Rotorua is kind crazy - when mom and I were driving into town, we thought there was a bush fire, because of the huge amounts of what looked like smoke rising from the ground. Turns out it's steam, and it's everywhere. The road to our lodge has random steam spots right next to the sidewalks, practically in people's backyards. The whole area is a thermal hotspot, due to two tectonic plates rubbing up against each other. This morning we went to Wai-O-Tapu, and saw bubbling mud, sulpher pools (for the three of you who'll get it: demons!), and boiling pools of water.
The area is also awash in Maori culture, where cultural shows and exhibits have sprung up to meet the tourist curiosity. We went to a Hangi dinner and show our first night in town, and I have to admit it was pretty amazing. We were greeted by warriors arriving in a handcarved war canoe, and then we experienced a series of performances before eating a semi-traditional hangi meal, consisting of meat (chicken and lamb) and potatoes (regular and sweet, or kumara as they're called here) cooked in an earthen oven for hours. Then we walked through the nearby Rainbow Springs at night to see gloworms, an eels, massive Rainbow Trout, birds (kea and tui, if I recall), and then the highlight of the evening: kiwi birds! Kiwis are nocturnal, so if you want to see them in their "natural" habitat, you need to see them at night. There were three out when we went through the exhibit, and one of them (a male) was going crazy. He was running back and forth in his enclosure, and we soon found out why - he sounded a screeching mating call in the attempts to connect with the lady kiwis in the adjoining enclosure.
Another local attraction is the Agrodome, a commercialized farm just outside of town. We took a farm tour (I got to pet some alpacas!) and then watched a sheep show, where they explained the billion different kind of sheep (I think it was more like 17 or 19, but still, who knew?) and sheared a sheep on stage.
Tonight is our last night in Rotorua, and we're going to miss our B&B very much! Mom won the hostel vs. nice accomodation battle in a few towns (Rotorua, Wellington, and Queenstown), and so far I have to admit it's really nice. We're staying at the Kuirau Lodge, which is just incredible. They have two cats and a border collie (Serena: His name is Jack! And you and Miya would love him!) and mom and I have really enjoyed hanging out with the animals. A few thermal highlights include the tile floor (naturally heated by re-routed waters from the ground below) and the pool out back (also naturally heated, and the hot tub contains real mineral waters from the ground). Mom said, as she was floating in the 96 degree pool under the stars while it was about 50F outside, "This is as close to heaven as you can get!" I'm personally worried she's not going to leave tomorrow when we check out :) She might just dive in the pool and never come out.
Tomorrow we're off to Wellington - it's a long drive, so we're going to break it up by stopping at a few scenic places on the way. We might be lucky enough to see snow, though hopefully we won't have to drive in it!
We first took the car on a Katrina Excursion... I wanted to find a particular beach where they shot a bunch of scenes from Hercules: The Legendary Journeys. Before you ask, yes that show is the reason I've wanted to go to NZ since I was 12. I predate LOTR by years, people! Anyway, we ended up getting a tad bit lost, but we stumbled upon a beautiful beach instead - Muriwai. It's famous for surfing, and for a gannet colony that nests there during the summer.
Next it was off to Rotorua - about a three hour drive through rolling green (and I mean green!) hills. Rotorua is kind crazy - when mom and I were driving into town, we thought there was a bush fire, because of the huge amounts of what looked like smoke rising from the ground. Turns out it's steam, and it's everywhere. The road to our lodge has random steam spots right next to the sidewalks, practically in people's backyards. The whole area is a thermal hotspot, due to two tectonic plates rubbing up against each other. This morning we went to Wai-O-Tapu, and saw bubbling mud, sulpher pools (for the three of you who'll get it: demons!), and boiling pools of water.
The area is also awash in Maori culture, where cultural shows and exhibits have sprung up to meet the tourist curiosity. We went to a Hangi dinner and show our first night in town, and I have to admit it was pretty amazing. We were greeted by warriors arriving in a handcarved war canoe, and then we experienced a series of performances before eating a semi-traditional hangi meal, consisting of meat (chicken and lamb) and potatoes (regular and sweet, or kumara as they're called here) cooked in an earthen oven for hours. Then we walked through the nearby Rainbow Springs at night to see gloworms, an eels, massive Rainbow Trout, birds (kea and tui, if I recall), and then the highlight of the evening: kiwi birds! Kiwis are nocturnal, so if you want to see them in their "natural" habitat, you need to see them at night. There were three out when we went through the exhibit, and one of them (a male) was going crazy. He was running back and forth in his enclosure, and we soon found out why - he sounded a screeching mating call in the attempts to connect with the lady kiwis in the adjoining enclosure.
Another local attraction is the Agrodome, a commercialized farm just outside of town. We took a farm tour (I got to pet some alpacas!) and then watched a sheep show, where they explained the billion different kind of sheep (I think it was more like 17 or 19, but still, who knew?) and sheared a sheep on stage.
Tonight is our last night in Rotorua, and we're going to miss our B&B very much! Mom won the hostel vs. nice accomodation battle in a few towns (Rotorua, Wellington, and Queenstown), and so far I have to admit it's really nice. We're staying at the Kuirau Lodge, which is just incredible. They have two cats and a border collie (Serena: His name is Jack! And you and Miya would love him!) and mom and I have really enjoyed hanging out with the animals. A few thermal highlights include the tile floor (naturally heated by re-routed waters from the ground below) and the pool out back (also naturally heated, and the hot tub contains real mineral waters from the ground). Mom said, as she was floating in the 96 degree pool under the stars while it was about 50F outside, "This is as close to heaven as you can get!" I'm personally worried she's not going to leave tomorrow when we check out :) She might just dive in the pool and never come out.
Tomorrow we're off to Wellington - it's a long drive, so we're going to break it up by stopping at a few scenic places on the way. We might be lucky enough to see snow, though hopefully we won't have to drive in it!
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