Wanaka, Queenstown and Déjà vu- Goodbye New Zealand

Our bus took us out of the Southern Alps to the numerous lakes that exist around Wanaka. Wanaka was a small town with very little to differentiate it from the others we have driven through. However it did have what is supposedly New Zealand’s best beer, Brewski, which Rob and I tried out that evening in a small local pub, the only place where it can be drunk on tap. The pilsner like beer was good though I wouldn’t say it was outstanding- I’ve had other beers which I defiantly prefer to it.

Lake Wanaka

During the drive from Wanaka to Queenstown we stopped at Puzzleworld. It contained a very hard maze and interesting illusions. For $10 it provided a cheap thrill. 

Queenstown, the furthest point we will be from home this trip, was our next destination. This is the adventure and activity capital of New Zealand, everybody we have met stayed in Queenstown for at least 3 nights, the majority for four or more. The town of 10000 souls is set next to a picturesque lake, with palatial glass faced houses extending up the hills that surround it. It is dominated by tourists, the majority backpackers; however the numerous spa hotels and luxury coaches confirm the existence of several types of tourists visiting there as well.

Queenstown

We stayed at the major hostel, Nomads, which had a free sauna, breakfast and a room with a balcony- for a hostel this is high class (some may say a hostell). The first three of our five nights there involved catching up with various people from our old buses- some hadn’t been seen since the early part of the North Island, in those first days you couldn’t walk down a street without bumping into someone you’d met somewhere along the trip. The first nights were spent in the backpacker haunts- Base bar, World Bar and Buffalo Bar with nearly everybody we had met on the experience-  drinks were ridiculously cheap- $3.25 a pint (£1.50) or $4 for a shot using the multitude of deals, vouchers and promotions that existed everywhere. It was like a strange cross between fresher’s week and an 18-30 party holiday(think Falaraki).

 

The days were a bit of a haze- walking the town, spending time in the sauna, washing, printing photographs- it was nice not to have to wake up to get on a bus. We also ate several times a local place called Ferg Burger. People on the bus were talking about it before we even arrived in Queenstown, rumors circulated about how amazing it was. Ever skeptical of it all just being hype- I knew I was going to eat my first burger with an extra sharp focus- it would have to impress. It ended up as our fast food sober up on the first night we were there- I feel criminal to have used it as that, as the place provided the best burger I have ever eaten without question. Eating them sober in the subsequent days and trying a rival called Devil Burger couldn’t alter the conclusion. In the restaurant itself there are pictures of Dan Carter and News Paper articles from the USA(yes the burgers motherland the United States) lauding it as the best in the world. Stopping and thinking about it though, why shouldn’t New Zealand provide the best ever burger? The country is the most ‘natural’ I have ever been in. The super green grass, Evian like tap water and fresh air give good reason as to why the food at Ferg and in New Zealand as a whole has been so good.

 

On the third day Rob went and did the 134m high Nevis Bungy and a Canyon Swing, among his best experiences of the trip. (The fact that you have to pay even if you don’t jump didn’t help incentivise me to make an attempt!).

As time went on people began to leave Queenstown and by the last two days we knew practically nobody there. It was a strange place like that. For a few days the town becomes yours- it’s your turn, your moment- everywhere you look there are familiar faces, all from buses just ahead and behind yours. You meet up with people you haven’t seen for a few days and haven't known for much longer like they were long lost mates. However as quickly as everyone is there everyone is gone- here you will always miss a bus. We moved hostel for the last two days to nearby Base as we had pre-paid cards with nights on them which we needed use up. We did very little, aside from a three hour walk up a hill behind town and viewing the Champions League on Wednesday and Thursday mornings. The heavy drinking of the nights before meant the evenings were quiet for us. St Patrick’s night was spent in a local pub with a bloke called Chris from our room who happened to have studied geography at Bristol a few years back.

 

On the 18th it was our turn to depart- something I think we were both glad to be doing.

The bus headed for Kaikoura (via Christchurch airport where people got off- the centre is a no go zone), a town on the rugged east coast where people could go whale watching and dolphin swimming. Arriving in the evening we went from our hostel with a friend Bryan (from our original bus that left Auckland) to a local pub and then a bar. The night was very strange but good, the second bar contained a group of people who were dancing like they were on LSD. They dragged us onto their dance floor and made us reluctantly join in, though it changed it from a night down the pub, to one far more interesting. 

The last nights were spent revisiting the old haunts of the Cross Island Ferry, Wellington and Taupo(where we skydived on our first visit) on a half full bus trudging its way back too Auckland. An unexpected rendezvous with two Welsh folks, Nick and Owen, we knew on the last bus was the final hurrah, before leaving Auckland and New Zealand, for good.

Approaching Wellington

NZ Parliament Building-Wellington

Characters of the Big Green Bus:

Major Characters:

Oli Harris- The person we defiantly spent most time with and got to know the most. A jolly and hairy Dorset farmer with 5 guns at home.

Bryan - A Cornish Pasty and ex-marine from Cornwall who we met on our first bus. Lost his voice under influence.

Hermann Morast aka Herman the German- The most typical German we have ever met- efficient in everything and with a questionable dress sense. However a very un-German and amazingly dry sense of humour.

Jake and Jemma- An unusually close brother and sister pair also from Cornwall. On our bus from the start and then again irregularly.

Nick and Owen- Two Welsh lads who were always up for a laugh and we spent a good deal of time with.

Natalie and Megan-Two teachers who we met mid way through our trip who were always up for a heavy night. The teaching profession was disgraced by their antics.

Minor Characters

Baris- A Turkish delight with a bold head.

Sol- Despised by Oli and branded as an odd ball from day one.

Hitesh- Accountant on our bus from Auckland to Taupo(3 nights)- pub quiz hero

Jo- Another teacher who had a passion for bus drivers

Chris- mentioned above- just went for a few drinks with on St Patrick’s day

Drivers

Kane- Auckland to Taupo- Been doing the rounds for over 8 years- a ruthless yet subtle salesman who will got more commision out of us than any of the others

Bubs

Guy- Nelson to Franz Josef- A young ex-copper who loved his ladies.

Jed- Franz Josef back to Auckland- though having been on his bus most of the time a blooper from myself in Queenstown meant we didn’t really get to know him

  

  

An Alpine Paradise

Between Nelson and Franz Josef the bus stopped firstly at Lake Rotoiti where these pictures were taken- the third bloke is a farmer from Dorset called Oli who has been on our bus since day 1.

We then arrived at the old gold mining town of Westport. If you have started conglomerating thoughts of romantic runaway mine trains, short ginger bearded men in checkered shirts and abandoned towns of the Wild West then you will have, like me, been fooled. It was in fact the most boring place I have been in New Zealand, an arrow straight highway, with a generic pizza restaurant, supermarket and some faceless cafes dominating the town. I can only assume the reason we stopped was for the Kiwi bus to pick up some commission from the admittedly homely hostel we stayed at.

Lake Mahinapua was our next destination, via the geologically spectacular pancake rocks of Punakaiki, and the town of Greymouth where fancy dress was chosen for the evening. We reached the small West Coast Pub of Lake Mahinapua in the late afternoon of the 7^th March. This pub and attached hostel, has been run by the 85year old Les since the Kiwi Experience began in the early 90's. It relies completely on the buses for it's income (nobody else can stay there). Many of the places we have visited have a Mono-dependence on the bus, it’s such a great way for these people to make money- a very predictable income by hospitality industry standards, plus it negates having to deal with any of the promotional graft so heavily invested in time and money by small businesses. 

The pub was the most characteristic of the trip so far, the dark wooden walls adorned with people's memories, captured on fading Polaroids, showing every Kiwi bus to have passed through. The ceiling was covered in caps, bras, signed T-shirts and other such paraphernalia of buses long gone. It really did pong though! 

The evening started with a massive barbeque consisting of a pretty tender gigantic ½ pound steak, heaps of salad, coleslaw and a stunning venison stew(wish id had more rather than the steak). The evening rolled onto fancy dress in the bar. The theme was Nasty, Naughty or Nice. Rob and I aimed to pick the most cost effective costumes possible, hence he turned out as a lifeguard. In a charity shop I purchased a $3 nightgown, certainly worn by a person now deceased,  and then hunted for something to go with it. I happened to stumble upon a Fez in a toyshop turning me Mr Ben style(remember him?) into some sort of Moroccan dignitary- a big odd but nonetheless cost efficient. The only way I could see it fitting in with the theme is with it being intimidating in the way people claim Burkas are- a justification with about as much clout as a right hook from Mr Muscle.

The night was awesome, most people got absolutely wasted and many new acquaintances were acquired. The only exception was a group of 10 or so Danes on our bus, who didn't dress up and began forming a clique which would develop as the bus went on.

The 2-hour trip to Franz Josef was quiet, the majority of people resting off the hangovers of the night before, This process continued upon arrival, with people sleeping away the afternoon, or like myself Rob and some other mates bathing in the free hot tub at our hostel/campsite- Rainforest Lodge. That night people met in the site bar where prizes were given out for costumes from the night before, the winner Megan being dressed as a present which was actually Chlamydia.

Nearly everybody on the coach had booked onto the full day glacier hike for the next day meaning the night wasn't too wild.

A five minute walk into the centre of the Alpine village, which lies in the shadow of the impressive Southern Alps(a range which includes New Zealand’s highest mountain and can certainly live up to its European namesake) took us to the centre where we collected our day's equipment- woolen socks, insulating waterproof jackets, hiking boots and crampons for walking on the ice.

Buses Shuttled the sixty people up to the start of the glacier walk where we were split into groups of 10's and, set off up the Franz Josef glacier- named after the Austrian emperor at the time of European discovery.   

Our group was led by Justin, a passionate explorer type from the Canadian border with the coolest beard I have ever seen. We spent the day slowly moving up the glacier, stopping regularly whilst Justin hacked the ice to make a path with his pick axe. 

Justin with Rob and Myself

 The sky was plastered with fluffy dry white clouds with the sun appearing and lighting up the ice at rare intervals- a gem for a town which receives rainfall for 280 days of the year. We moved down fissures, pulled ourselves up mounds and walked through the dripping ice tunnels of the world’s fastest moving glacier and the steepest which you can hike. 

Awesome Ice tunnels were frequent on the walk, the ice often appearing an ocean blue compacted by the weight of the ice above. This provided excellent photo opportunities. 

The water on the glacier tasted amazing, crystal clear and of course chilled- some people filled up full bottles of it. The mountain air was fresh and cool, surrounding the glacier were high cliffs with gushing waterfalls. All of the geographical features shown in a classroom were there, striations, moraine and sedimentary rock, once part of the ocean floor, but since lifted by the pressure of the tectonic plates to form this young 5 million year old mountain range- a Geographers paradise. The ice made distances seem deceiving, a walk which looked like it would take 20 minutes would end up taking an hour. It was a great day, rounded off by a soak in the hot tub and Tui beers at the hostel.

Before leaving Franz Josef on the 12^th March, Rob and I went Kayaking on Lake Mapourika using a small family run firm, based in a bus turned office in Franz Josef. The weather was excellent,  no wind and relatively clear skies made the lake look like a mirror, never have I seen the sky reflected so clearly. The lake is surrounded by picturesque mountain scenery on one side(with the peak of Mount Cook visible in the distance), and everywhere else by rainforest- one of only two regions in the world like it. We pottered slowly across the lake, accompanied by sand flies foolish enough to land on our boat at the shore, and our guide lead us along small waterways into the forest where we saw some of the flora and fauna unique to New Zealand. This activity was in contrast to the high octane adventures of the past few weeks, with only a group of five of us Rob, myself, two Canadians and our guide present in this tranquil, untouched place. Photos were included with the modest $80 price tag (£40), it was a gem of an activity, which many adrenaline hunting Kiwi Experience travelers will overlook.  I wish I had left my skydive till here, as the promotional pictures of this are the most spectacular I have seen yet.

The End of the North Island

The Kiwi experience includes a one day stayover in Taupo, though we booked an extra day to relax after the hectic schedule of recent times. Arriving in after the skydive, the adrenaline had left, and everybody was knackered and ravenous so a group of us headed to Pizza hut for a full out buffet which was unfortunately not up to the standards of home. The skydive and eventful days that had just passed exhausted everyone, so much so that the majority were conked out in bed by 11 after one or two Guinness’s in O’Mulligans, the local Irish bar.

After a marathon sleep, the next day was spent chilling out, several of us, the same group we had hung around from since the start of the bus, walked the half hour or so to a favourite local spot by the river. This has a natural hot(actually boiling) spring flowing into the crystal clear river, provided you get the right distance between the two you have a natural spa at your disposal. We all just sat about, foraying into the stream for brief swims and skimming and juggling the unusually light rocks in this volcanic region.

Around 4 we all left to head back to the Irish bar which put on a replay of the England v France six nations match- Brian Moore proved as irritating as ever! That night we went to our hostel bar for a free BBQ before coming second in a pub quiz by a point.

For some the end of the night signaled a permanent goodbye to some as our bus was due to depart the next day but in Taupo we had arranged to stay an extra night. Fortunately we would see many people we had met again at later stages of the trip. 

Our final full day in Taupo involved rising at 0545 in order to catch the coach for a 1.5hr trip to the Tongariro national park where we took a whole day to complete what is known as one of the top ten walks in the world. The 18km hike began with clouds rumbling low over the mountain passes ahead and views which whilst good were hardly award winning. However as the walk went on and the altitude increased, the skies cleared providing us with phenomenal views of the volcanic landscape. The walk included some of the scenery used in Lord of the Rings, the most obvious being Mt Doom itself (the real name is Mt Ngaruruhoe), but also the plain below, which Rob and I believe was where the final battle scene at the gates of Mordor took place. There was the option to climb Mount Doom, however it was over 2000m high and as the pictures show phenomenally steep. Instead we did a climbed its less steep and smaller sister peak Mt Tongariro. 

The descent from the peak included seeing a spectacular hole in the side of a part of the mountain caused by an eruption in 1975 before the eggy stench of sulphur drifted up the mountain as we descended past geothermal pools. 

Our new coach contained large numbers of 18 and 19 year olds making me feel like I was back in sixth form. Some of them looked no older than 12. It’s strange how the difference in maturity between an 18 and a 22 year old is so much larger than that between a 22 year old and 28 year old. A drive through among the most picturesque countryside seen on the trip, dominated by small hills(think it may be called an egg basket topography) lead us to our activity lodge in River Valley. That afternoon we, alongside club 18 swam in the crystal clear waters of the river jumping off the many high rocks and points in the surrounds. A smashing bbq watered down with the ludicrously priced $7.50 jugs of beer set up a nice evening. Staying in isolated places such as this is great as there is only one place to go and so the whole bus is in the bar, unlike the towns where people tend to drift off doing their own things. The barman was a Canadian fellow who looked like Jack Sparrow from Pirates of the Carribbean and was one of the biggest wallys I have encountered on my travels. He gave off this image of being Mr funny, Mr cool and Mr relaxed, one of his first statements being “come hang out with me and you’ll find me a funny guy”. He was a slow and sloppy barman, always chatting to people for great lengths whilst queues for the bar grew. The statement of the night had to be “people shouldn’t live in the same place all their lives because that’s unnatural, its unnatural to have order and routine which is why people should travel around and have more randomness in their lives”- people like this need their head examined.

Unfortunately he was our white water rafting instructor the next day- this was the reason we were in River Valley- the place itself is literally just the lodge. A half hour minibus trip along dirt tracks lead us to the start of the river. Four of us went in a raft, rob myself and these two other girls from the coach. We went down the river in the boat, though I was pretty underwhelmed by the whole experience. We never really went that fast, the drops were all mild even though this is a grade 5 rapid and I never felt in danger of falling out- it just wasn’t that exciting, though the river was at low tide. Also we didn’t just go down the river continuously, taking a drop before pulling up and waiting for all the other rafts to catch up. In addition Jack Sparrow was an annoyance, demanding that everyone paddled in sync when it wasn’t strictly necessary plus there was quite a bit of irritating sarcasm- no other instructors were so anal. He was really harsh to the girls on our boat whose English wasn’t perfect and his poor attitude and lack of positivism just sucked some of the fun out of what should be a memorable experience.

Two days were spent in New Zealand’s capital Wellington, a pleasant city, where I purchased a new camera and we visited a highly recommended, excellent free museum which detailed the natural and human history of New Zealand.

Following this, we took the 3 hour ferry over one of the worlds roughest, but most scenic, sea crossings to the South Island on the 4^th of march and drove through the vineyards of the Marlborough Valley to Nelson, New Zealand’s sunshine capital. Here we were in for a treat as, due to the recent Earthquake, the Super15 rugby team the Crusaders couldn’t play home games in Christchurch and so temporarily have to play theirs in Nelson. That night there was a match on against the Waratahs from NSW, Australia. This tournament is one of the best rugby tournaments in the world involving 15 teams, 5 from Australia, South Africa and NZ- the equivalent of footballs Champions League. On show were many All Black internationals including New Zealand Captain Richie McCaw and the world’s best player- Dan Carter. It was a sell out crowd in the small ground, a see of red and black all round, beautifully set against the backdrop of the town and mountains behind. The Crusaders won, after which we went for a messy night out- the first proper one in New Zealand.

The bus is now drifting through the spectacular forests and stopping in small towns on the way to one of the worlds most spectacular Glaciers in Franz Josef.