living the dream

Tuesday 29 November 2011

UP NORTH AND ON THE ROAD AGAIN

I’m going to come right out and admit it. I’m a fair weather camper. So it was pretty hard for the West Coast – one of NZ’s most consistently miserable regions – to win me over. In the end I have to concede there is some real beauty there and a “sweet-as” laid back charm. However, growing up means that maybe it is time to recognise what you like and what you want to avoid…and I think until the West Coast can guarantee me some consecutive warm sunny days I’ll be exploring this region via the less expensive and infinitely more comfortable google image search.

In fact, while we are in confession mode, I’ve also got to come right out and say I just love Queenstown. I really didn’t want to like it. Being just the sort of town we were trying to avoid – you know, getting off the tourist track and all that – the fact is that Queenstown is popular because it is really, really cool. It’s got (and in this order) the best burgers I’ve ever had (I’ve had a few and even have a couple of burger-related Championship Titles to my name so I know what I’m talking about), favourable weather, a ridiculous number of amazing activities on offer, and some breathtaking scenery. Maybe living out of a van for too long makes you appreciate the more material things in life and take for granted the simple pleasures??

Enough philosophising. Back to recounting the adventures.

After being there to witness NZ’s collective sigh of relief to hold off the French in a gripping RWC Final, and getting involved in a few post-match celebrations, we decided to head up to Northland, or in kiwi speak “up North”. It seems that there is a bit of conflict as to exactly where the “Real North” starts, as this questionable reason for glory is boasted by multiple (otherwise unimpressive) towns heading up State Highway 1.

Now if there is such a thing as a great place to get your van bogged in some very soft sand, let me recommend Rangipura Beach. It might not seem like a good candidate (very remote, no sign of people around and an extremely long way from the nearest AA vehicle) but as far as helpful locals go…and in our case a flagged-down car full of local maori boys with huge muscles, a makeshift tow rope, and a big dose of kiwi ingenuity…this place has got you covered. Thirty minutes of heaving and wheel spinning later our local heroes had us back on the road, with the only battle scars a couple of very-large-shoulder-shaped dents in the back of the van. Dents that later on DP wondered (to his mistake out loud rather than quietly to himself) whether they were caused by him pushing or by the team of front row forwards who saved us… those of you who know us well will know how much fun I had with that one…

Back to being a mainstream tourist, and we cannot recommend highly enough the jet ski tour of the Bay of Islands. Having decided to go there, and only AFTERWARDS reading the lonely planet entry for this place we were convinced to go out on the water since “otherwise, this place is quite overrated”. Of the smorgasboard of options available, jet skiing took DPs eye. I was hesitant, keen to avoid a repeat of the incidents that seem to come about whenever I am left at the helm of a small motorized vehicle (4-wheel motorbiking flip on Bethels Beach, being pinned under a snowmobile in a ditch in Niseko, accidental beaching of a jet-ski itself at Whangapoua of all places, and multiple 2-wheel motorbike issues in Vietnam and Thailand…). In the end we decided the trip would be more fun for everyone if DP did the driving with me on the back, and when only metres out of the 5-knot zone our guide took off at 100kmph we both breathed a sigh of relief at this sensible decision.

Ripping around the Bay of Islands on a jet ski has got to be the coolest way to see that part of the world and we were completely buzzed afterward. We also made it all the way up to the very tip of NZ where two seas crash wildly into each other, watched dolphins from inside our van as we camped on the beach, and generally enjoyed this rugged bit of paradise.

Since our forays up North and around our hiking adventures, we’ve also managed a few thousand pretty unforgettable kilometres as we’ve explored like crazy over the last few weeks. Some memorable moments include:

Navigating a sheep-imposed traffic jam on a major state highway…and a cute-as-a-button farmer trying to control them, complete with very ripped, very revealing ruggers (ladies, see below)
Marvelling at the stunning Franz Joseph and Fox Glacial region, wild seas and whitebait fritters on the West Coast
Being exposed to the ruggedness of the very bottom of the South Island, complete with 120km/ hour winds, which it turns out is less than comfortable when sleeping inside a van
Enjoying the incredible Central Otago colours and remoteness as we cycled our way down the old rail trail
Jumping into 11 degree water at Akaroa, but it being totally worth it to get up close and amongst the darling little (1.2m long fully grown!) Hectors dolphins
Realising that if banking doesn’t work out for DP, he’d make a fine career out of long haul truck driving, with us covering off 10,000 km in the last few months!

Love,

Mr and Mrs P

Some stunning Southland scenery

The Moeraki boulders

The sheep were less bothered by the wind than us

Rugged Otago views between Wanaka and Queenstown

By the looks of these trees, the winds we experienced aren't uncommon

See, I told you Queenstown was beautiful

A central Otago pub along the old rail trail

Nice lawn (from an expert) at one of our favourite Central Otago wineries

Not a single West Coast service station open after 4pm...nearly rolled into Franz Joseph!

Nice scenery at Franz Joseph glacier

One of the world's best (and wettest) road trips - West Coast of NZ

Check out those legs...I mean sheep!!

Piha was much cooler than I remember it

Cape Reinga - right at the top of NZ

We saw dolphins from this position! Not a bad view for $20!

Don't worry, it wasn't turned on while I posed for this!

WET WITH A CHANCE OF RAIN IN FIORDLAND

It’s on every self-respecting Wannabe Adventurer bucket list. The ‘World’s Finest Walk’ – the wonderful Milford Track. What they fail to tell you in the marketing material is that this is a region that gets a soggy 9-ish metres of rain a year. They save that little gem up for the pep talk when you are already a day of hiking in and too committed and too proud to turn around. This is also the time they mention the required use of the ‘Emergency Track’, although the relevance of this can’t be fully grasped at this point, and won’t be until one finds themselves a day later clambering into the valley down what is more reasonably described as a waterfall with signposts. Other potentially relevant omissions include the fact that winds on the Pass can get up to 120kmph and at these times hikers (including those with heavy, unstable packs) are required to crawl along the track clutching at the tussocks to avoid being swept off the cliff dropping sharply off into the valley below. This is only disclosed at the shelter reached well PAST the cliff and crossing in question…

For us we had what is probably ‘average’ weather, a bit of sun, a day of intense rain, and thankfully only ‘mild’ winds on the crossing. Unfortunately we didn’t get views from the Pass, but we did get the most fantastic descent into the valley, navigating our way around (and lets be honest, through) spontaneous waterfalls gushing out from the steep rock walls, listening to the echoing of fresh avalanches, and wandering into and out of mysteriously low clouds clinging to this very rugged ravine of native forest.

I won’t say any more about the beautiful scenery. There are photos below, or for better ones, google it.

Plus, I am all too keen to get to one of the more unexpected (although every bit as memorable) highlights of the trip…the Department of Conservation Hut Rangers.

Each night the Hut Ranger would give a talk to cover off fire safety and any particular track conditions to be aware of. However, the best Rangers are determined to grab this opportunity to be the centre of attention and throw in a highly entertaining One-Man-Show, free of charge. We should have seen it coming. It takes a special kind of person to sign themselves up for extended periods of solitude in the sorts of remote locations we are talking about.

We had jokes so awkward they would have been well at home in an episode of The Office (English version, of course), a full volume female kiwi impersonation, a “surprise” mid-sentence interruption of a dead stoat, and finally – my personal favourite and the clear winner in the end – the musical performance on a home made flute, during which I was unable to control myself and in the end had to surrender to the blatant rudeness of a laughing fit that was almost as loud as the performance itself. To the credit of my fellow campers, everyone else was able to maintain composure with nothing more than a slight bite of the lip or a tell-tale smirk. And to his credit, with impeccable professionalism, the Artist didn’t allow my out of control gasping to disturb his performance zone and continued in complete seriousness through the act.

Note to self for next time we decide to test our fledgling marriage through an endeavour into the wilderness:

Take cards…there isn’t much to do when you are "getting away from it all". In fact, maybe whoever came up with that phrase should have been more specific and come right out and said "getting away from all that comfort, entertainment, and comfortable nights sleep we've been getting lately"
Take real food if you are fit enough to carry it. We were however able to convert our Routeburn Track "food envy" to Milford Track "food smugness" a week later at the expense of fellow, even-more-novice-than-us campers by cracking out fresh steak and vegetables while those around us poured hot water onto their light weight but entirely unappetising portions of dehydrated meats
Speaking of smugness, well done DP for actually checking the weather forecast...and knowing how to avoid early-marital conflict through a last minute upgrade from tent to huts on the Routeburn. This little bit of insight and pro-activeness had us positively gloating as we walked straight past the tent folk and into the huts each night, congratulating ourselves on a great decision, and wondering smugly how those dirty campers were getting on with drying their stuff inside an already wet two-man tent
Never take a dehydrated hot breakfast and never take more than one pack of a dehydrated meal you haven’t pre-tested
Don't tell your mum about helicopter crossings or avalanche zones until ALL planned hikes are completed, or otherwise be prepared for the "Go" button being pushed on a large scale overland search

Lots of love,

Mr and Mrs P

Trying to pack for a hike in the back of a van in the pouring rain...a REAL sense of humour tester

Soggy but loving it and still loving each other...

NOT happy about being asked for a photo while trying to avoid getting hyperthermia...loving DP a little LESS at this moment...

Yes this is the path...

OK...giving in to being saturated!

Hut life

We are currently in disagreement over which one of us is the photographer of this magical shot!

What a sight to finish a trek on! Well worth it

Sunday 23 October 2011

RUGBY AND THRILLS

Well it is amazing how unproductive two A-type personalities can become. Ahhhhhhhh, the stress. So that we can stop feeling guilty about blog frequency, lets readjust our expectations from weekly to…say…. never. This way if we feel motivated (happening less and less these days…) then it is all upside for our neglected readers.

That said, I am very excited about writing this particular edition. There is THAT rugby game that needs to be re-lived for the benefit of our Aussie friends and family. It is, after all, being re-lived by every kiwi in the country, in excruciating detail. There is also some ridiculously good footage of DP being dropped off a bridge. Note to the Hodders: he is starting to become suspicious. “Do you realise your family has now bought me a sky dive, a face-first abseil into a waterfall, and now a 160km-per-hour- flying-fox-head-first into a canyon ….and they KNOW I’m scared of heights…what are they trying to tell me???”

As far as personal achievements go, DP read a book. This is in direct response to a challenge from me to at least attempt to read 3 novels over the course of a 5 month break. And my challenge, far from being unreasonable, is in direct response to him claiming we could create more space on our bookshelf by “getting rid of the useless ones, you know, like the novels”.

“Does The Four Hour Work Week count?”

“No Dave, they can’t be self-help books.”

“Oh…how about The Most Dangerous Man in the World, the Story of Julian Assange?”

“No, that isn’t a novel, it is a biography”

“This sucks. Can I read SAS Sniper Adventures in Afganistan?”

“Well I suppose that counts, but I was really thinking some nice fiction books…”

Depending on who you are, this may seem like quite a small or quite a large and challenging request. For instance, I read 3 novels in less than a week when Wellington was wild and windy and no one wanted to go anywhere. DP sits firmly in the second camp, but having now enjoyed his first novel in probably 10 years (Jasper Jones in case you were wondering) maintains that he is getting quite into “this whole reading fad”.

Some things we have discovered:

Travelling out the back of a van is decidedly less fun in the rain
Friends and family make for extremely gracious hosts in such circumstances (HUGE call out to Susie and CC for their hospitality in Wellington and Sarah and Steve in Auckland….potential new-marriage-savers in the wild weather!)
We much prefer Australian Shiraz to the Hawkes Bay variety, but this isn’t a good enough reason to stop buying when on a wine tour. Neither, it turns out, is a complete and utter lack of space in your van…
Women are better at fly fishing than men, and look better in the waders too
It is MUCH more fun to let your husband believe you caught a trout and he didn’t, even if technically speaking your guide did the hooking of the trout and you simply reeled it in
A Hawkes Bay “Tawny” (Port: kind of like the Champagne/Sparkling Wine confusion) is a great way to drown the sorrows of the less-able fishermen
Being a tall, male, obvious Wallaby supporter calls for a LOT of attention on the long walk home through Auckland CBD (post the Aus v NZ game). Thank goodness NZ won or the attention may have been a little less fun. Go the ABs!!!! (NOTE from DP: this last statement cheering the ABs is from Zoe)
The only thing you can predict about the French is their unpredictability. We watched them get mauled by Tonga, dominate England, and then be given a lifeline by a self-destructive Wales, and finally, test the ABs more than any other team in the tournament. Hooraaay ABs for finally putting these guys away in a World Cup crunch match!
There are only so many ways you can cut the space in the back of the van. At the end of the day, the more stuff you have the less space there is for sleeping. Particularly relevant for those of us that are 6 foot 5 and still want to buy more wine and food supplies…

OK, photo time. First up, the masochists who want to see the flying fox/bridge swing footage...thanks to Sarah and Steve to an incredible, memorable wedding present!

Yeeehaaaaaa - the coolest flying fox ever!!

Brave face before....

....and go!!

He swore he enjoyed the whole experience...

...a little relief!

And just for a bit of balanced reporting...

...I got scared, too

We have marvelled at the kiwi enthusiasm for rugby - both at the games and out and about...even the smallest towns have embraced this tournament with gusto!

(Like Te Kuiti for example, which renamed and rebranded themselves "Meadsville", after Sir Colin Meads)