Dodgy Geysers

The time in Tasmania, and indeed the rest of Australia, came to an end too soon. It always does, no matter where you go or how long you stay there, it's never enough. There's always more places to go, more things to read about, more people you wish you'd had the chance to know better and some you wish you'd never met at all. Sometimes the planning goes well and you get a good amount of time in a place that you could happily stay a lot longer, sometimes you're just kicking around with too much time on your hands. So it goes ... and then a few things happen that remind you just how amazing it is to be able to visit certain places in the first place. Such is the case with New Zealand ... two weeks to see all that two islands of one of the most isolated and geologically active countries in the whole world. Impossible, of course ... but with a bit of planning and timing I think we did and saw some of the most interesting things on the trip so far. Regretfully this blog entry won't go into as much detail as I'd like as I basically don't have the time or resources to write all that I want to. Hopefully the photos can fill in a bit - shame this has to be a rush job, maybe I'll fill in some bits if I get some time in Chile.



Between leaving Melbourne and flying out from Sydney we spent some time checking out some of the jewels of the mainland's countryside and coast. Highlights include being bombared by divebombing cockatoos at a lodge in Lorne, going on a rubbish hike around the Dandenong ranges, being hassled by nervous emus in a volcano and taking in the sculptured drops of the Blue Mountains.












Auckland was our entry to the North Island. The moment we got outside there seemed to be a distinct feeling of unease in the air. It was the sunday before labour day, a bank holiday - lots of people milling around in the street, some taking advantage of not having to work the next day and looking the worse for drink while the purple glow of the sky tower made everything seem all the more ominous and uncertain. I don't usually feel ill at ease in cities, unless there seems to be lots of people just hanging around doing nothing. Better that they hurry about ignoring each other ? An unwelcome reminder of the British highstreets appeared in the form of a minor scuffle and some shouting. A disheartening introduction to the city, but we'd not planned on spending any time there at all - I've lost count of the number of places I've passed through only bothering to spend a few hours here and there or a night in a nondescript dorm room.





Not that it mattered, as a course was set for Rotorua the moment we arrived - an area with an outstanding collection of geothermal oddities. The local nickname is "Rottenrua" due to the pervading odour of Hydrogen Sulphide - think rotten eggs - which varies in strength throughout the day and is conveniently strongest just before bed time.










The Lady Knox geyser - spouts off at 10:15 every morning ... after being given a bit of a prompt ...










The Bridal Veil falls at Wai-O-Tapu "Thermal Wonderland" - this looks a bit like the inside of my stomach after that night out at Purple Sneakers. This is an overflow from the Opal Pool, a sulphurous spring.






After that, no time was wasted in getting down to the South Island, ending up in Picton for a welcome meet up with Dave and Jodie again. It was fantastic seeing them both again, and getting some sound advice from a pair of Kiwi-gurus (having a good few weeks head start on us). We stayed in what is possibly the best hostel in the world - The Villa. Free breakfast, free apple crumble, free bike hire, and free dog if you feel like a walk. All set in the sort of atmosphere that makes you wonder ... what's the catch ? Turns out the catch was we were forced to share a dorm room with a load of attractive German ladies. Oh, the trauma ! Bring back monosyllabic testosterone greetings and smelly socks. I had to hit myself over the head with my own shoe in the end.

It was decided that due to the watertight timeframe involved, some sort of motorised vehicle would have to be procured. After ten minutes intensive research we settled on a smaller, independant rental company as they were half the price of the larger chain companies. The reason it was so cheap is that our valiant steed was a Nissan Pulsar best described as "getting on a bit" and covered from front to back in scratches and dents. Still, it covers up any damage we may have done from taking car park entrances a bit quick. The downside is that, crime of crimes, there was no CD player. Working out how to raise the aeriel proved outside the range of our mental abilities, so buying some tapes became top priority - sign of the times, I had to get them from an antique shop. The creme de la crap is as follows :

• Hot Chocolate's Greatest Hits (cigarette burns on case, bonus 'effects' from tape warping causing much amusement). "Everyone's A Winner" has the finest guitar riff ever recorded - cue a great deal of steering wheel percussion. Also impressions of Alan Partridge singing "It Started With A Kiss". You don't remember me DO YOU ?!
  
• Australian Trucker Songs - pure joy, the faster instrumentals brought the Dukes Of Hazard element of my personality to the fore.
• An Iggy Pop album, can't remember which one - not his best. Turned out to be the turkey of the bunch, strange given Bowie's obvious influence on it.
  
• A Barry Manilow one - bought for a laugh, strangely enjoyable in the lashing rain. He's much better at scatting than expected.

First major stop was the Franz Josef glacier - one of two publicly accessable glaciers in the area. Shaped like a frying pan and 12km long, it's in a cycle of advancing and retreating, carving along the valley walls on either side.











Our intrepid explorers slog it out on the glacier, looking less like Scott Of The Antarctic and more like The Moomins. Note the Kea - a sort of mountain parrot in the background, who seemed a hell of a lot steadier on his/her feet than us with the aid of boots and crampons. It rained pretty much constantly, but we managed to convince ourselves that it was more atmospheric this way. Ha ! Pity the fools who chose to do it the next day when it was perfectly clear and sunny. How we laughed at them !











The ice on the glacier had a beautiful hue to it - deep blues, blinding whites and everything in between. This is due to the Rayleigh effect i.e. tiny particles of air suspended in the ice refract light at different angles. Here's a naturally formed ice tunnel - reminiscent of the Cu-Chi tunnels in Vietnam, I had a difficult time trying to get through this bit. Not because I found it too claustrophobic (doing my best impression of Bishop in Aliens), but because it was so bloody slippery. I got half way up, then lost my grip and slid all the way back down on my stomach, the reward being a pair of aching bollocks. Ow.





Kaikoura is awash with marine life of all sizes. You don't have to go out stalking whales to get your kicks, however. An idyllic clifftop stroll soon turned to a scene of violence and horror whilst crossing the carpark. Just like closing time in most British high streets, there's always some hooligan waiting to start tossing his orb about - this is the seal that ambushed Dan as he ambled around the corner. I had no idea they actually came this far from the sea. Now look here ... just what is it you're doing, lurking around in car parks anyway ? After our wallets, no doubt ... probably hopped up on the brine from tins of tuna. We should really have called the police and had the dreadful brute locked up. Is nowhere safe ?











There are over twenty million sheep in New Zealand (outnumbering people by a factor five ... pray that they do not start to self-organize). I like to think that this one would have the voice and personality of Kenneth Williams.











Kaikoura is the place to go for encounters with marine life, both on and off land. Ogling whales, pointing at penguins and seal gawping are all reasons it's a major stopoff on the South Island. Swimming with dolphins seemed a one off opportunity, however, so the scene was set for crowbarring ourselves into wetsuits at half five in the morning. And boy were we glad for them ... the Pacific measured a bracing twelve degrees as the sun was coming up and the dolphins were finishing their nightly hijinks - it gave surfing off Cornwall in March a run for it's testicle-shrinking money. Apart from being highly intelligent, it turns out that the dusky dolphins are also sex-fiends of the sea. Some of the examples our guide gave sounded outright scandalous ... I won't go into the details as my gran is probably reading this, but to be honest I would have thought twice about getting that close to the randy flippers had I known this in advance.








It was made very clear from the start that it was us that was the entertainment for the dolphins, and not the other way around. They're wild animals in the open ocean, and if they think you're a bit of a goon they don't stick around. They've got a reputation for being one of the most intelligent creatures on earth ... ten seconds watching us lot flounder around in the ocean desperately hooting to get their attention and it's clear who should be top of the food chain. I'm no stranger to saying and doing stupid things to get a few laughs, but this is the first time I've had to hoot the hits of Herb Alpert down a snorkel at a load of sea gits. If the dolphins didn't find it funny, the people on the boat certainly did. Yeah, tell it to Beadle.







All joking aside, this was an amazing experience - both actually seeing wild sea animals in their natural environment, and getting to learn a bit about them and conservation efforts from our guide.