Matchman's Grand (Old) Adventures

Te Anau

Sigh...more trials and tribulations.

I was heading for a little place called Te Anau, south west of Queenstown, known as a good base for Fiordland excursions (but nothing else). There's only one road to Te Anau from Queenstown...and it was closed off due to the snow. Marvellous. I had a trip to Milford Sound booked for the following morning, and one to Doubtful Sound booked for the day after - both already paid for - so as you can probably imagine I was pretty desperate to get there.

The road block was at a place called Milburn - I'd already travelled very slowly for 2 hours just to get there - and I really needed to get past it. My map showed a potential route around - south, then west, then north - which I worked out would probably take me about 7 hours to do. No thanks. I asked the policeman at the blockade what I could do, and he suggested that I could get some chains for my tyres and get across the road that way. And the nearest place to get chains is...Queenstown. No thanks. Well, I could stay in Milburn tonight. No thanks. I could go back to Queenstown and stay there. Again, not an option. Well okay, the other option was to wait around in Milburn and hope the track was cleared later in the afternoon.

And that's what I did - and cleared it was too, a grand total of 4 hours later. I spent my time waiting in the only pub in town, shamelessly perched in front of my fire thawing out my toes, reading my book, and not buying a single thing. Eventually, when I could feel my toes again, I remembered that life is good right now, and that it doesn't totally suck balls.

They did a great job clearing the road - not a trace of snow on it but enormous piles on the sides of the road. I got to Te Anau at 5pm, checked into the cheapest campsite in town and was told by the manager that the Milford road had been closed for three days due to snow avalanches near the entrance to Milford Sound, and that it probably wouldn't be open tomorrow either. It just gets better eh.

I decided to take a stroll through the town centre to check out the place - if the Milford road was still closed tomorrow then I'd probably be getting used to it. First impressions were good - a long street with a decent sized pub, lots of restaurants, two supermarkets, a garage, a big electrical store, a newsagents, a massive off license (bottle shop over here), lots of tourist type offices and all sorts of other shops and facilities. But get this - it was 8pm on a Saturday night and...there was nobody in sight, no cars were parked by the street and none of the shops were open. None of them. I glanced into the pub on the way back and there appeared to be just three people inside, by the look of them tourists, watching the olympic on TV. Some people pay good money to go to the old gold-rush places and look at the ghost towns, but I was getting this visit for free.

If I was going to Milford Sound in the morning then I had to be at the coach stop for 10am, so I rang the company beforehand in the morning - no signal on my mobile and no answer when I tried the nearest payphone. Grrrrr. I took the fairly long walk to their office and was told that all the phones and internet lines were down due to the snow, and that an avalanche on the Milford road was still blocking everyone off, therefore all trips were still off. So, my new plan was Doubtful Sound on Monday, followed by Milford Sound on Tuesday - which meant I had a whole day in Te Anau to waste.

I went up to the lookout point just out of town where I was kept company by a snowman (well, snowwoman judging by the boobs on it), then took a stroll around Lake Te Anau, and then to polish off my day I followed that up with a trip across the lake to see the glowworm caves, which were excellent. No pictures are allowed, which is a crying shame, but flashes (accidental or not) upset them and they dim if it happens. A brief word about glowworms - they are in fact the larvae of fungus knats that have been laid on cave walls. Not very glamorous creatures then, but they have a neat little mechanism where if they're hungry a pigment lights up inside them that attracts flies for them to eat. So, the hungrier a glowworm is the brighter it glows.

Right, now for something completely different...

Doubtful Sound

Before we start, we need to answer a few questions (and ask them too). What is a Sound? What is Fiordland? And what's so special about this place?

A Sound is a valley that has been sculpted and sunk by a body of water - that could be a river, severe flooding, tsunamis, you name it. A Fiord on the other hand is a valley that has been forged by glaciers. So, what's Fiordland? Well, most of the Sounds in this area are incorrectly named - they are in fact Fiords, not Sounds. The glaciers that created them were enormous and part of an ice age almost 10,000 years ago; they advanced and retreated to and from the sea over and over again, and the results were devastating (and spectacular). There are 14 Fiords and Sounds in Fiordland National Park, but only 2 are accessible to the public - Doubtful Sound (the second biggest valley in the park) and Milford Sound (the most popular with tourists). To give an idea of the size of this place, Fiordland National Park is roughly the same size as Wales. So, it's a pretty big park.

Fiordland is a tough, uncompromising place; its peacefulness and tranquility is virtually guaranteed with or without National Park status as it's virtually impossible to settle here. The weather is pretty horrible - on average it gets about 7 metres of rain per year (compare that with Manchester, known to be a rainy place, which gets just under a metre of rain per year), and it's bitterly cold too. Apparently out of 10 days in Fiordland it will rain for at least 7 - so, knowing my luck that makes it a guaranteed soaker.

Doubtful Sound is a good old Captain Cook name - he named it Doubtful Bay as he was 'doubtful there was enough wind inside the bay to get the ship back out'. He was probably right about that, but he was wrong about it being a bay and in fact mistook most of the Fiords and Sounds in the area as 'bluffs' - cliff faces that deceive the eye into thinking you can get through, when in fact you can't. But wrong he was, and eventually a few other European sailors would stumble across them and explore their many arms.

Getting to Doubtful Sound is a bit of a mission - unlike Milford Sound it's only accessible by boat across a lake - so here's a quick rundown of the journey. Walk to the coach, get on the coach and drive to the middle of nowhere to pick up some people from Queenstown (yes I could have come from there but it's a lot more expensive), change course and go to Lake Manapouri, get off and jump onto a boat for an hour, then jump on another coach, take the Wilmot Pass around the mountains to the entrance to the Fiord and then jump on a cruise boat. An then do it all again on the way back, but this time with a stop at the power plant on the Wilmot Pass thrown in for good measure. All in all the day takes over 10 hours and costs about £75, which seems pretty good value to me.

So, let's talk about the day. The coach driver was superb, very chirpy and full of interesting but utterly useless facts about everything and anything; for example, I now know what New Zealand sheep eat during the winter when the grass is taken out by the snow or flooded - swedes, turnips and grain. The first boat journey goes across Lake Manapouri, which itself was formed by a glacier but doesn't reach the sea, hence it's still just a lake. But what a lake - surrounded by amazing landscape, crystal clear on sunny days and in parts almost 450 metres deep. And what a glacier it must have been to carve out land that deep.

After that the coach goes across the Wilmot Pass, which was never intended to be used as an entrance to the Fiord - it was created to transport materials to the power plant when it was being built, and took twice as long to finish as anticipated due to the amount of rain that falls here. It's a spectacular road, quite thin and winding with beautiful views at times. And then you reach Doubtful Sound itself. The beginning is arguably the best view - you can see the long and winding valley from its shallowest point with clear water and the sun shining through the clouds. Once you get on the water the view behind the boat is a bit distorted due to the wake and fumes from the boat but can make for some interesting pictures all the same.

It's hard to imagine what this place must have looked like 10,000 years ago when the glaciers were rampaging and forming this amazing landscape. And the thing about Doubtful Sound is its tranquility - it's incredibly quiet, the boat's engines were switched off for a minute at one point to demonstrate it to everyone. Amazing. And finally a quick note about the power plant - it's located deep down in one of the mountains, hidden away from view, and is accessed by a 2.5km tunnel that has a gradient of 10:1; so it's actually located 250 metres below the entrance to the tunnel. I'll say this much about it - you wouldn't want to visit it if you were claustrophobic, and a few people jumped out and waited at the entrance. The plant was quite controversial when they were planning to build it as it's in the middle of a National Park, which goes against the idea of such a thing, but eventually people realised that the power of the water was a great way to generate energy and its creation inside the mountain gave it the go ahead.

Right, enough of that, onto Milford Sound.

Milford Sound

Fellow bargers, I have found a suitable venue for Team Pro Barge. It's called Milford Sound and it's perfect for a good old barge session; there might be a few problems getting a barge out here, and getting permission to use it, but it'll be worth the hassle, trust me. Rudyard Kipling described it as the eighth wonder of the world, so it must be good.

Unlike Doubtful Sound, Milford Sound is apparently correctly named - it is indeed a valley that has been sunk by water (although they're not sure). It was named by a Welshman, the first person to settle here, after his home town of Milford Haven. It's a lot easier to get to - a coach journey straight to the cruise terminal - and is extremely popular, especially in the summer. It's winter here and there's nowhere near as many people around, but three cruise ships took off in the 15 minutes I spent at the cruise terminal.

Apparently the best weather for visiting Milford Sound is heavy rain - allegedly it creates a great 'spooky' atmosphere and also revitalises the many waterfalls along the sides of the Sound, to an extent where the boats can't get close to them because they're too powerful. I, however, didn't get rain - instead, I got clear blue skies, not a cloud in sight. And I couldn't have been happier, I don't care THAT much for waterfalls and to be honest you can shove the rain up your a&£e, I've had enough of that to last me a lifetime. It's amazing really, nothing but rain on the supposedly mild north island and then no rain in two days in a place that rains over 70% of the time. But that's the way it goes sometimes.

You couldn't possibly have a place like Milford Sound in the vicinity of a film like the Lord Of The Rings and not use it so, of course, they used it. Remember the bit where they're in boats and they go past the two massive king statues with their arms held out? That's the entrance to Milford Sound. I won't whittle on about it as much as the last entry, but I'll say this - it might have been the sun distorting my view but I thought Milford Sound was the better of the two days. Mind you, don't let the sunshine confuse you - it was brass monkeys out on the top deck of the boat, my three layers, hat and gloves were barely enough.

Once again the coach driver was excellent, except this one was more interested in tales of wiping out possums and stoats and also explaining how to make beer out of the Manuka plant, and how he tried a remake of the Manuka beer created by Captain Cook all those years ago (and how disgusting it was). You go through the Homer Tunnel on the way to and the way back from the Sound, like the one that leads to the power station near Doubtful Sound. Near the end of the tunnel the driver asks you to shut your eyes, and when you open them again you're greeted by a great view of the valley below with the road winding down ahead, mountains everywhere and most of them white which no doubt enhances the experience.

My first impressions were that Milford looked better than Doubtful, there was something about that initial view that looked better. They're both really similar, Milford has more and bigger waterfalls but is a lot smaller and busier and not as quiet. If you only had the time or money to visit one of the places, you'd choose Milford Sound as it's cheaper and much easier to get to.

Haast & Wanaka

The following statement seems to surprise, shock and yes even offend some of the people I've spoken to recently. The statement is this - I'm not going to ski or snowboard in New Zealand. Yep, that's what I said. The usual reaction from people here is one of complete amazement; cue uncomfortable smiles and then people slowly backing away from me. Idiot. Weirdo. Freak.

Allow me to explain. Firstly, I only have a limited time here and I want to use it well and see as much as I can - spending 3 days on a ski field doesn't seem to fit with that. Secondly, it's expensive and I've already spent more than my fair share in this country. Thirdly, you can ski all over the world and there are far easier and cheaper places to get to from the UK, and hell from what I hear some of them are better anyway. And fourthly, and perhaps more importantly, I'm not even slightly interested in skiing or snowboarding. So, there you go, I'm just plain odd. The upshot of this is that I won't be spending a long time in Wanaka or Queenstown - in fact, they'll just be little visits like any other place, like Haast for example.

I'm not really sure why the travel bloke in Auckland suggested Haast as a place to see. It's on the road from the glaciers to Wanaka, so you go through it anyway, but it's amazingly tiny and there's nothing to do there. My guess is that it's probably quite scenic but I can't confirm that due to the low-hanging clouds and rain that rather spoilt my brief stay there. So, moving on I drove over the Haast Pass towards Wanaka and hit snow. Not proper snow, more like sleet; wet snow that doesn't seem to settle anywhere apart from in little patches on the grass on the side of the road. But combined with the permanently low temperatures in the alpine region and a biting wind it really was cold outside. Horribly cold. I stopped a few times to take some pictures and even though I was outside for no more than a few seconds each time I had to thaw out in the van afterwards with the heater cranked right up.

I hit Wanaka in the afternoon and immediately checked out the info centre. It's right next to Lake Wanaka, which I'd been driving round for the last 15 minutes on the way to Wanaka, and the very low clouds made for some unusual views of the lake. There was no way I was staying outside in that weather so I drove towards the airport and tried my hand at some rifle target shooting, which I wasn't terrible or awesome at, but it killed a bit of time which is all you can ask for when you're hiding from the weather. That done, I found myself a big and quiet campsite and locked myself in the van with the heater on.

I woke up in the morning and peered out through the window and was delighted to see some blue sky, so I got up and went about redoing the photos I'd taken on the previous day. Just take a look and you'll soon see why I get so annoyed by dreadful weather when I'm trying to travel around one of the most scenic countries in the world. Rainy, cold and indeed snowy days are acceptable - it is winter after all - but not if it's so bad that you can't see a thing. When I saw the view of Lake Wanaka on the second day I wondered exactly how much I'd missed on the north island during that storm.

Oh well, what's done is done and for now I need to hit Queenstown to set up base for a while. Lots to do there - Deer Park and Glenorchy are home to lots of scenic from the good old Lord Of The Rings films (although I don't yet know where they are or which scenes they were) and Arrowtown is apparently a must see place. I should certainly have lots of time to see all that while I'm not skiing.

Queenstown

As hard as other places in New Zealand try, Queenstown remains the number one alpine and activity resort in the country. Without a doubt. How do I know this? Because it's heaving, totally overcrowded and pretty hellish really. There are just 4 million people in the country, and I think most of them are here. Seriously though, most places I've been to would make Alton on a Sunday seem busy, so it came as a bit of a shock when I encountered endless traffic, no parking spaces, loads of people on the streets and lots of vans at my campsite.

But these people don't live in Queenstown. No, this is definitely a tourist resort and the only people who live here probably work in tourism. You can just tell - families walking in and out of expensive ski shops; bleached haired idiots carrying snowboards around; and what is it with these huge, multi-coloured ski jackets? Yep, I'm in a ski resort alright. And what a time they'll all be having right now - it's snowing massively here. I've never seen so much snow in my whole life - who knows how much there must be on the slopes - and it's great snow too, light and crispy and perfect for snowmen and snowball fights. And it doesn't go away, it just builds up, getting higher and higher on the grass while the cars turn the roads into a mess of grit, slush and ice. It's just a shame it's not Christmas.

So, what about the town itself? Well, it seems nice enough, very compact and offers everything you'd want from a place like this, although the prices are a tad steep. Unfortunately I'm here by myself, i.e. I've got no friends to go out with, so I can't really judge the nightlife at all (I'm not the sort of person to go and sit in a pub by myself and try and make new friends). So I'll just say that if you're a ski boff then you'll no doubt love it here, and I'm sure the nightlife would be great too (I've heard it is).

And now onto the boring bit - what I did here. Firstly I checked out the town centre, for a whole day in fact including a trek up a mountain for views of the valley and the town, and then went to nearby Arrowtown to see its famous cobbled streets, its top class but tiny cinema, and to see how it looks in the snow with its old-school phoneboxes and street lanterns. Well, to say it woas a disappointment would be an understatement. There are in fact no cobbled streets; the cinema was only showing chick flicks (no cinema in the world can make them worth watching); and for some geographical reason that totally escaped me there was no snow. I did however notice the lanterns and red phoneboxes, which entertained me for a few seconds, and I also checked out the nearby ruins of a Chinese village from the gold rush in the 19th century, which really was surprisingly enlightening. But all in all it was a bit pants really. Having said that, if my trip to Arrowtown was a letdown then my trip to Glenorchy was a spectacular misjudgement, in more ways than one.

I mentioned in my last update that the Queenstown area played host to many of the spectacular Lord Of The Rings sets, chosen for its breathtaking views and landmarks. Well, whilst glancing through a Glenorchy brochure I noticed that the following sets are all in the Glenorchy area - the Misty Mountains, the Ford of Brunien (where the horse-river-wave-thing comes along and sweepd the black riders away), Isengaard (Saruman's fortress by the lake) and Lothlorien (where they get captured by the elves, and the lake where they subsequently sail off). Unfortunately the brochure was for an expensive guided tour and didn't say where these places were exactly, so I got my van packed off and set off for the Glenorchy visitor information centre, knowing they'd be able to help me - who needs to pay to see nature when it's freely accessible?

There's probably an international standard for driving in the snow but I have my own method - stick the van in low gear, drive a bit slower than usual and just pretend it isn't there. It seems to work a treat; leaving the campsite was a bit ropey but great fun, the first road is massively downhill and covered in ice and snow and there really was nothing I could do - I just slid for a while, drifted to the left, smacked into the kerb and came to a standstill in the middle of the road, pointing to the right quite a bit. As anyone who's driven in the snow will know, the main roads are usually fine and in a place like this, where it's expected all the time, there's grit everywhere and all is good. I got to Glenorchy with it still snowing and approached the girl at the info centre/supermarket - it's a very small town - to find out where I needed to go.

What I'm about to tell you is a secret, and if it gets out then heads will roll, so don't tell anyone okay? Okay. Here's the secret - in the country of New Zealand...home to majestic scenery and famous for the Lord Of The Rings sets...in the town of Glenorchy...THE place to see the best of those sets...a town with nothing else to offer tourists...in the tourist information centre...which should be full of information on those sets...works a girl...WHO'S NEVER SEEN THE FILMS!!! AND HAS NO IDEA ABOUT ANY OF THE SETS!!! HAAAA HA HA HA HAAAA!!!!

You couldn't script it any better. Well, after looking at me as if I was the idiot for asking such a question...in an information centre...in Glenorchy...she pointed to a place called Paradise on the map and said that whatever it was I was looking for, it must be there. I swiftly pointed out that the road to Paradise was marked with a dotted line, meaning it wasn't a properly kept road, but she thought it would be fine for a campervan - 'but watch out for the stream crossing'. I decided that out of her two roles she was a better shop worker than information provider, but I took the road anyway under the knowledge that if it got a bit rough I could just turn back.

The main road was okayish, prett snowy but driveable, but when I turned off and took the track to Paradise it started getting pretty thick with snow and I swiftly decided that I shouldn't be there. I drove on for a bit and eventually spotted a part of the narrow track that looked just about wide enough to pull off a manouevre - steer to the left...reverse...drive forward...drive forward...drive forward...oh.

I was stuck. In the thick snow. In the middle of nowhere. In the middle of the road. Sideways on. Blocking the whole track. I had no phone signal. I was on my own. If someone came along to save me they would probably drive straight into me as I was sandwiched between two turns.

Oh. My. God.

After a quick panic attack the brain started to kick in and I got down on my hands and knees and dug some of the snow out from under the wheels and, cold and soaking wet, realised how I could get out of this. Since I was on my own I couldn't go to the back and push, but fortunately the van is an automatic so I opened the drivers door, stood outside by the steering wheel, released the handbrake and stuck it in low gear whilst pushing. And it moved - very nearly into the ditch off the road. I got it into reverse just in time, and nearly repeated the mistake on the other side of the road, but eventually and with a huge amount of luck I'd managed to slide the car into a position where it wasn't stuck and I was facing far enough to the left that I could drive back the way I came.

Wow, what a little adventure. And you know what? Had I found anything in Paradise, the clouds were so low and the snow was coming down so heavily that I probably wouldn't have been able to see anything anyway. The things you do...

I needed a breather so I went back to my campsite in Queenstown, did some washing including my newly filthy and wet clothes, and got ready to leave for Fiordland in the morning.

The Road To Glacier Country

I needed a good rest and Westport looked like just the place to get it. Not a huge amount to do there but I figured I only needed one night to recharge my batteries and get back on the road.

It was a bit late when I got there - again the drive took ages - and I needed to restock on food so after the usual info centre stop I went for a good old shop around the local supermarket. After spending an absurd amount of time squeezing everything into my cupboard and fridge (yep, just one cupboard in my van) I realised it was really quite late and set off in search of a cheap campsite.

I didn't find a cheap one - there's only 2 and they're both quite pricey - but beggars can't be choosers and I'd already decided that I'd happily pay for power every night just for the warmth of my plug-in fan heater. Well, that night the money wasn't well spent - I woke up absolutely freezing at 4am with no noise coming from the heater. It had died. I was so cold that I didn't even want to get out from under my duvet so I just stayed there in a semi-sleep until it was light, then rang the rental company who told me they'd give me my money back if I bought a new one and kept the receipt. I bought one from town and then decided that while I was there it was about time I updated my internet stuff - 4 hours later I left the internet cafe with photos uploaded and diary entries almost fully up to date. Yes, that's how long it takes to do these things so sorry if I go for long periods without any updates. It's also a pretty expensive business at almost £3 an hour in many places.

Time was really getting on again and I still hadn't seen the town's attractions, so I decided to see those and stay one more night. A quick 15km drive took me to a place called Cape Foulwind, home to a lighthouse an, more importantly, another seal colony. Apparently the males are pretty rampant beasts - the same ones service the females here as well as at Abel Tasman and Kaikoura on the east coast. Impressive stuff. Another little factlet, this time about the females - at Abel Tasman most of the mothers undergo a daily 100km round trip to get food for their pups. That's commitment for you. Seal colonies are usually found in safe havens as their pups are defenseless most of the time; the downside to this being that there's no food to eat in the area. I certainly hope the seals at Westport don't decide to up and leave as they're immaculately signposted at ervy turn from about 20km away - I guess they're pretty well settled.

Another night in Westport so I went for the holiday camp right by the seal colony. Now, do you think it's a good idea to sleep in a fairly flimsy campervan in a place called Cape Foulwind, right by the sea? Well it wasn't too bad at all actually, surprisingly enough, although it was pretty rough in the day.

It's quite a long way to Franz Josef, my next stop, so I took a look at Punakaiki and Greymouth to break up the journey. Punakaiki boasts pancake-style layered rocks along the seafront, as well as beautiful ocean views. Greymouth however was really just a small hick-ish town with not a lot going fo it as far as I could see. The drive itself was spectacular - I couldn't go for more than 15 minutes without stopping and taking pictures - and before I knew it I was on the Glacier Highway heading towards some snow-capped mountains...

Franz Josef & Fox Glaciers

More brilliant naming conventions here. The Franz Josef glacier is known as Ka Roimata o Hinehukatere in Maori, but a German explorer didn't like that much and dedicated it to the Austrian Emperor instead. No doubt the Maoris loved that one. And the Fox Glacier is even better - Te Moeka o Tuawe in Maori but when Sir Edward Fox, then prime minister, visited the glacier in 1872 he liked it so much that he put through a petition to name it after himself. What a modest and shy chap.

A glacier is simply defined as a large body of ice that moves slowly over time. They're usually formed between high, snow-capped mountains and over time they melt and then reform, giving the impression that they're 'moving'. The Franz Josef Glacier is pitched as the fastest moving glacier in the world, moving at a rate of 10 metres every year. That might not sound a lot but in the last 250 years it's moved 2.5km - there's a sign on the way to the glacier showing where the ice wall used to be.

I paid for a half-day hike up the Franz Josef glacier and just checked out the Fox Glacier and nearby Lake Matheson the next day. I really enjoyed the hike, well worth the £35 I spent on it, and our guide (bizarrely a chap from Swindon) was excellent and very informative. And near the township of Fox Glacier you can go to Lake Matheson and see New Zealand's tallest mountains - Mount Cook and Mount Tasman - reflected in the water. Very nice indeed.

One last chance to do a skydive so I rang the company on the evening of the 10th and they told me to check with them at 7:30am as rain was forecast all week and they wouldn't take anyone up if the weather was bad...

Skydive!

Obviously some good news - when I rang the company at 7:30am I was told to get a shifty on and get to the airstrip as soon as possible as some dodgy weather was coming in. So in no time at all I threw on some clothes and made the very short journey over there; before I knew it (after signing a declaration and filling in some next-of-kin details) we were cramped up in the tiniest of planes, me strapped to a Hungarian instructor and an American girl strapped to the Kiwi that runs the joint.

I really wasn't nervous at all, just a tad uncomfortable in the back (those straps intrude where they shouldn't) and excited about jumping out, but at the same time trying to remember everything that we'd been told to do in a quick hurried sentence before take off. We flew around above the glacier and the two big mountains - Mount Cook and Mount Tasman - for about 10 minutes and then all of a sudden, before anyone could possibly say 'no, stop' I was wearing gloves, goggles and a hat and we were jumping out of the plane.

I wasn't sure how it would be in terms of breathing, and it really was quite weird. At first I tried to breathe through my nose, as instructed, but I found that a bit tricky; then I tried breathing through my mouth which really is a bad move as you get that classic wobbly cheeks syndrome and it doesn't work at all. So, back to breathing through the nose again, and then almost holding my breath completely as we passed through a cloud which didn't seem to do anything at all - no sensation, no difference at all. Surprising. And then the parachute came open, I could breathe normally again and the views hit me - absolutely stunning, a few dodgy stomach moments as the instructor sent us round in a few spinning circles, and then pretty soon we coming into land. I lifted my legs up as I'd been told for the landing, stood up and wondered where the last 30 minutes of my life had gone.

I bought a small selection of photos but didn't go for anything spectacular like my own free-falling photographer or DVD - and the whole thing cost me about £140. But what an experience!! Totally worth it, not sure if I'll do it again but I wouldn't rule it out.

I left the airstrip and couldn't believe that it wasn't even 9am yet, so I checked out the Fox Glacier and Lake Matheson (previous entry), went to the internet cafe and then left for Haast.

Marlborough Region

Finally I've arrived at the south island - it's been hard work so far but hopefully it's been worth it. The south island is prized as the top attraction in New Zealand and most people recommend a ratio of 3:1 in terms of time spent on the two islands which is pretty much what I'm doing. Highlights include the stunning Abel Tasman National Park, the amazing Franz Josef and Fox glaciers, skiing and snowboarding at Queenstown and Wanaka, the beautiful Milford and Doubtful Sounds and whale watching and swimming with dolphins at Kaikoura. So, lots to be done, and I'll see if I can squeeze that skydive in somewhere too.

The ferry journey was pleasant enough, 3 hours in total, and I arrived in Picton to be greeted with a bit of sunshine whuch I barely recognised at all. I wanted to make good use of it - it would probably disappear again soon - so I drove straight to Blenheim for a very swift wine tasting session (the Marlborough Region is another big wine producing area) and then set off for Nelson to make base for a few days.

Nelson is a nice little city (town by UK standards), very quaint with an attractive bay and a compact city centre. After a look around that centre and a bite to eat it was getting on a bit and I was shattered from the early start and long drive (and the wine earlier) so I settled down at a campsite and got to work on some of my long-overdue diary entries.

Despite it raining all night I woke up to beautiful sunshine, so no time to waste...my next target was Nelson Lakes, which surprisingly turned out to be 90km south of Nelson and going away from my next point, Abel Tasman National Park. Nevermind, I did the drive anyway and the whole way there I watched as ominous looking clouds loomed ahead of me - bad choice of destination. Ho hum, well at least I got a few nice rainbow pictures out of the journey! Apparently the lakes usually have pretty poor weather due to the surrounding mountains so maybe it wasn't such a bad move after all.

It was all very time consuming - the drive took ages around windy mountain roads - and after a look the WOW Collectable Cars Museum I decided to stay in Nelson for one more night before heading off to Abel Tasman the next morning.

Abel Tasman National Park

Not a huge amount of luck weather wise on this trip so far but I picked a cracking time to visit this protected reserve. I had two days in total and each day had sunshine and a cool temperature, a bit cloudy on day two but I wasn't about to complain. The park was founded in 1942 - it was previously just a remote village with a few houses scattered here and there - and is now a hugely popular place for walkers and kayakers. Despite being 22,350 hectares (that sounds a lot to me) it's the smallest of New Zealand's national parks.

I arrived at Marahau, where I'd decided to make base, at 11am and after some brief deliberation about what to do I decided to walk up to Anchorage (almost 5 hours) and get a water taxi back, and then get a water taxi to Tonga Bay in the morning and followed by a walk down to Anchorage, with yet another water taxi back down again - that way I could cover the whole of the southern track in two days as well as the seal colony on Tonga Island (apparently the water taxi would stop there on the way to Tonga Bay).

In total I did about 9 hours walking over the two days at quite a pace, which is a lot for someone who doesn't like walking. The paths were fairly easy but the bits that caught me out where the little tracks down to the beaches - the walk (more like climb) back up absolutely killed me, particularly just above the knees, and on both days I was pushed for time so I had to really get my skates on. I never thought I'd end up sweating on the south island of New Zealand in winter but I sure did.

Anyone who's seen my pictures on Facebook will have a good idea of what the park is all about - peace, tranquility and scenery. And lots of it. There's hardly anyone about, although apparently it's pretty busy in the summer; the biggest camp on the Tonga to Anchorage track was occupied by just two ducks. It was all very surreal and I found the 9 hours spent walking just flew by (with the exception of the steep uphill bits). If you want to take a break from it all and lose yourself for a while then you could do worse than this place. A lot worse.

Well, I was absolutely knackered after that, my back hurt from carrying a rucksack about, my knees ached and my left hamstring was sore and tight. Time to stay off the tracks for a few days I think.

Before I end this entry, here's a strange phenomena for you - the naming of places. In Australia you find small towns and creeks that have Aboriginal names, yet most of the places have European ones. On top of that a high percentage of towns, bays, points, lakes and mountains are commonly named after the same people - for example, Lachlan Macquarie, a governor of New South Wales in the 19th century, has over 3,000 things named after him in Australia, many of which he never visited or even knew anything about. And New Zealand has its own strange way of doing things - mostly Maori names but European ones for the major cities (e.g. Auckland, Wellington, Christchurch). And get this - the forgotten man of old world discovery, Abel Tasman (he got to Australia and New Zealand long before Captain Cook), never actually set foot on the reserve which now holds his name. And neither did Cook - that honour went to Dumont d'Urville in 1827 who carefully mapped out the whole area. And yet they named it Abel Tasman National Park - go figure.

More strange naming conventions to come, there's some corkers lying around New Zealand.

Rotorua

Rotorua really is a fascinating place. It lies in the Taupo volcanic zone and is nicknamed Sulphur City; it's famous for its geothermal activity and is one of the major tourist attractions in New Zealand. It also has 17 lakes which must be some sort of record. And let's not mess about, there's a simple fact about Rotorua that needs to be stated - it stinks. Really, really stinks. A rotten, eggy, farty smell fills the air and at times makes you gag; okay, so it's just sulphur and other gases and it's natural, but sorry you wouldn't catch me living there or even hanging around for a while.

Fortunately I only had a day there although don't get me wrong, I really enjoyed my time there.

I'd read a few things about Rotorua but I had no idea that the whole town would actually be so weird. I went past and subsequently checked out a place called Kuirau Park, near the town centre, which was full of boiling, bubbling, steaming, stinking natural pools; people's gardens have steam rising from them, and presumably their houses smell as a result; all very odd. My campsite offered free thermal baths which I duly tried out, and as enjoyable as they were I didn't enjoy getting out of them into the cold.

In the morning I left Rotorua and headed for Waiotapu Thermal Wonderland, on the way to Taupo (my next stop). The entry fee was worth every cent, $25 (about £10), the place is amazing and certainly not something you could ever see back home. The whole volcanic region is certainly still active and it's something to behold - bubbling mud pools in deep craters, spectacularly coloured lakes, green waterfalls and a strange warming heat around the whole place. The highlight was the Lady Knox Geyser which erupts for about an hour every day at about 10:15am. I missed the beginning but apparently its punctuality is forced a little by some organic soap, which slightly took the edge off it for me when I found out. Mighty impressive all the same.

Next stop is the home of the volcanic area, Taupo.

Taupo & Tongariro

Taupo is a small town off the shore of the massive Lake Taupo. The lake itself has a perimeter of almost 200km and is in fact a crater created by a massive eruption almost 30,000 years ago. The most recent eruption was about 2,000 years ago and was one of the most violent eruptions in the world in the last 5,000 years ago, covering the sky of virtually the whole planet with volcanic ash.

Taupo also boasts a dynamic outdoor scene and in fact rivals Queenstown on the south island as New Zealand's activity centre. Handgliding, parasailing, bungy jumping, skydiving and tearing around the lake and waterfalls in a high powered jetboat are all popular activities here and I had my heart set on doing a skydive here as it's one of the best and cheapest places in New Zealand.

Unfortunately this wasn't to be - once again I was scuppered by the weather. I rang all three skydive operators and all of them told me to wait until the storm had passed as there was no way they could take anyone up in this weather. Marvellous. So, I drove around for a bit, had a look at the Huka Falls and Lake Taupo, then settled down for the night and had a think about what to do next.

I decided to go to Hawkes Bay on the east coast and then come back to Taupo and see if the weather had improved. Fast forward a few days and... it hadn't improved so I gave up and checked out Tongariro National Park, thoroughly depressed.

Fans of the Lord Of The Rings films will know they were shot in New Zealand, and those avid buffs (or those who've visited New Zealand) will know that Mount Tongariro is in fact Mount Doom in the films. Well, I may as well have just stayed in my van all day and watched the films as I couldn't see a thing through all the clouds and rain in the air! Fantastic!!! Fortunately the park has two other mountains - Ngauruhoe and Ruapehu, the latter being the bigger of the three - but just as unfortunately I couldn't see those either. Oh yeah. How utterly, utterly, headbangingly frustrating. More storm-related updates to come, in the next one I'll let you know how I got on in my quick escapade in the Hawkes Bay area, and how much rain there was there.

Hawkes Bay

Rain, rain, go away. Seriously, I mean it. The constant hammering of rain on my van is driving me insane. I can't step outside without getting totally soaked through. My clothes are muddy and so is my van. I can't do anything. I can't see anything. I can't take pictures. Nothing. Talk about a disaster of a trip.

Anyway, Hawkes Bay is a big wine area and although I don't particularly like it I tried out a couple of wineries - well at least they offer something to do indoors. All very pleasant stuff, I was the only visitor at both tours and at the first one the guy left me with 10 bottles of wine for tasting while he took a 30 minute phone call! Ha!! I bought a bottle of white from both although they didn't last long at all thanks to my new found depression. I've actually never had a problem with drinking on my own.

I stayed in Napier that night and then took a look around Hastings the next day. I stayed in a place called Clive overnight and in the morning I heard a big commotion from a few vans down and on closer inspection... it was the girls! And they were stuck again, only this time they'd left the handbrake on whilst trying to reverse out. I had a quick chat with them although they didn't seem too keen, and to be fair neither was I, so I left them to it and headed off to Tongariro after two more thoroughly uneventful days.

Wellington

Windy Wellington, so named because of the winds generated by the Cook Straight that separates the two main islands, is located right at the bottom of the north island and is the capital of New Zealand, boasting a population of just 400,000 people.

I didn't come to New Zealand to check out all of its small cities and towns - in fact I'm pretty fed up with them already - but I have to say I liked the look of Wellington, much more than Auckland. I can't quite put my finger on why but it's a compact, picturesque little city with just enough life about it to keep you interested. It also seems busier than Auckland, although that's not hard as Auckland seemed like a ghost town at times; presumably its smaller size explains that.

I spent the previous night in a place called Palmerston North to break up the journey - that's as much as I'll say about that place - and so I only had a day in Wellington before catching the ferry to the south island at stupid o'clock. I spent my time there driving around the one way system looking for the info centre, going up on Mount Victoria for some nice views of the city and also checking out the Botanical Gardens (I got severely lost on the way there trying to take a sneaky shortcut). Thanks to my inability to navigate the one way system (why aren't they ever marked on maps?) I got to see most of the city in a relatively short period of time. Anyway, that was Wellington and after a 20 minute drive to get to the only campsite in the area I settled in and prepared for my ferry journey in the morning.

As this is the capital city I'll throw in some history. The word 'Maori' basically means 'ordinary person' or 'native', and 'Pakeha' basically means 'white skinned gentleman'. During the 1800s tribes were split between Maoris and Pakehas, with many tribes needing to take Pakehas for their skills with farming, hunting and building (and also their muskets) - in fact a chief of a tribe containing Pakehas was deemed to have more 'mana' (power, respect etc) than a chief without any. And that's how Europeans first started settling in New Zealand - by integrating with the Maori tribes. Compare that with Australia where they just started slaughtering the Aborigines and took over the country, although it probably says more for the advancement of the Maoris as a people than any sort of moral improvements by the Europeans. More boring history later, I promise.