
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Epilogue (Tuesday Evening)

Monday, January 18, 2010
Monday Morning


Buda struck on ahead, but Ljuba and I took our time picking our way over the rocks strewn across the floor of the tunnel. The average height of the cave ranged from around 8 to 30 feet, and the walls were mostly limestone which had been worn smooth by millennia (?) of rushing water. The stream wasn’t that cold, and beyond the entrance it seldom grew deeper than our knees. We had a wonderful time forging through the pitch dark, our small LED headlamps offering narrow beams of illumination. Occasional side tunnels branched off from the main course, but it was always easy to find our way back to the rushing waters of the main cavern.

We’d allotted 90 minutes or so to complete our expedition, but it ended up only taking 60. We met Nada at the other end of the cave and climbed back up to the parking lot to enjoy the sunshine and a simple meal of strawberries and bread with homemade hummus.

A short drive back down the mountain brought us to Castle Hill. A quarter-mile off the road the grass starts to rise upward until grotesque limestone formations poke out of the earth like broken bones. They were monumental and somber in the cool light of evening. I tried to climb a smooth rock face, but turned back after a few meters. There was nothing to hold on to, nothing to grip or step up on, and it was frankly terrifying to feel so out of my element.

We spent an hour or two wandering the narrow paths amidst the stone giants, exploring fantastic weather-wrought formations. I didn’t want to leave.


They’re dusky gray, measuring only 1.4 meters, with a rounded dorsal fin. We climbed in the water, and our guide told us to make a lot of noise to attract their interest. I was a bit self-conscious at first, but the thought of missing out on the attention of tiny adorable dolphins soon helped me get over it. I began squealing into my snorkel as high as I could manage, trying my best to sound like something a dolphin might consider worth investigating.

We were back in Christchurch around 1. Not surprisingly, Nada had prepared a delicious lunch for us, which we ate while looking at family photo albums. After lunch, we drove 10 minutes to Christchurch International to drop off our bags. Once they were on their way we went back and spent another hour snacking and photo-perusing. At about 3:55 we left the house, and were at the gate in time for boarding at 4:20. The convenience and good nature of Kiwi airport security really makes me rue US air travel.

I'm now writing from the USA, a fact about which I wish I were happier. We’re sitting at our gate in LAX, waiting on the last leg of our journey. US customs and security was an unpleasant dose of reality after the colorful and polite Kiwi airports from which we departed. I’m by no means new to this system, but I guess I lost my immunity to the drab callousness of the American homeland security machine. It doesn’t help that I’m tired and cranky from a sweltering 12-hour flight across the Pacific. They took my carrots.
But hey! It’s not all bad. I’m looking forward to a little consistency and downtime once we’re back by the bay.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Sunday Afternoon




The five of us sat around the dinner table enjoying cake and wine until around 11, when Greg left weighed down by leftovers. Ljuba and I got spruced up and hit the town, staying out all night until around 6. Kiwi girls are shameless drunks.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Friday Evening
She was beautiful! About the size of a chicken, with a rotund body and long red legs. Her plumage was blue-green and looked a bit natty, given her austere age of 20 years or so. She seemed very careful and deliberate in her movements, selecting each pellet of food carefully with her large red beak. Soon, though, a mallard duck dropped by. Nosing the takahe aside, this interloper began guzzling up the food pellets at an amazing rate. Poor Alpine’s measured efforts couldn’t keep up with this prodigious display of gluttony: the food was soon consumed and the duck moved on to a second course at a different bowl.

We saw an unnamed river which stood in for Anduin, but our attempt to find the Dead Marshes was unsuccessful. The searching itself was enjoyable, though, and it provides a good excuse to see countryside we might not have otherwise.

We loitered for a while before I managed to tear myself away, then headed into town to pick up some surprisingly tasty breakfast pastries from the grocery store. A quick stop at the gas station and post office and we were on the road. We headed south, hoping to scout out some locations used in the filming of Lord of the Rings.

Next we headed North to Queensland, where we had lunch in a small park. A few dozen kilometers out of town we stopped in the hopes of seeing the river gorge where the Pillars of the King were filmed, and it turned out there was a bungee jumping operation perched atop the cliffs. We stood and watched a few jumpers, then took off toward the east coast.
We’re staying tonight in a tiny town called Palmerston, where we had excellent vegetarian pizza at a place called De Rail Cafe.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Thursday Evening
The path led us upward and over numerous small streams, eventually branching off after 45 minutes of brisk hiking. We were both pretty sweaty at this juncture and conscious of the time, so we headed back down to the car.
Continuing up the valley, we craned our heads and exclaimed at every primeval vista. Eventually we arrived at the boat landing and Milford Sound itself, where we parked the car and checked in with our cruise company. The boat boarded at 4 and we headed out toward sea.
The vessel’s capacity was something like 80 or 90, but there couldn’t have been more than 15 of us on board. Ljuba and I set up shop on the lower deck and ate a quick lunch. Our cruise was guided by a smart young woman named Danielle who delivered a humorous and educational narration of the natural splendor through which we were passing. Milford Sound is actually a fjord, we were told, the difference being glacial origins rather than the erosive work of a river or stream. Apparently one of the glaciers moving down toward sea had progressed at a rate of 7 meters per day, a speed discernible by the naked eye. I thought this was pretty cool.
We tooted down the south wall of the fjord past innumerable waterfalls. Danielle told us that only 10% of the thick tree cover we were seeing was actually rooted in rock crevices, and that the remaining population was actually latched onto one another and dependent on those so-called anchor trees to keep the whole lot from sliding to the bottom. It seems an anchor tree gives way on occasion, resulting in tree avalanches and bald scars on the rock face.
After an hour or so we emerged from the mouth of the fjord into the Tasman sea. The weather had held; we couldn’t have asked for calmer waters or bluer skies. By Danielle’s account it was the nicest day in the two months she’d been on the job.
After returning up the north face and seeing fur seals and Stirling Falls, which plummets a stunning 150 meters from the rocks above, we pulled back into the small bay where the cruise ships have their berth. Ljuba and I walked back to the car elated by the experience.
As we emerged from an 80-meter tunnel through solid rock, I was delighted to see a large green bird perched atop a parked campervan. Keas are the world’s only alpine parrot, and notorious for their mischievous disposition. These fellows seemed on their best behavior, however, as they simply hopped about picking at pebbles before flying away.
We stopped at The Chasm to see river-carved formations in the rock and again to have a quick dinner of closing-time discounted food from the ship. By the time we got back to Te Anau it was late, and now we’re headed to bed.
[note: I had a hard time picking photos to include in this post. You can see many more on my Flickr feed]
Wednesday Night
I’m lying in bed typing this while Ljuba is watching some high-class British early-twentieth century drama. We’re staying at the Alpenhorn Motel in Te Anau, a decent place run by an older guy named Tony who feels awkward about our homosexuality but is doing his best to hide it.
We left Queenstown this morning and drove south. Along the way Ljuba pulled over and I took his spot, my first time driving on the left. It took a bit of concentration, mostly to make sure I was keeping in the center of my lane. Avoiding incident, we arrived in Te Anau safe and sound.
After lunch at a German-owned pizzeria we walked to a nature centre where I hoped to spend some quality time with rare endemic birds. Specifically I hoped to see takahe, chicken-sized and flightless, of which there are only a few thousand left.

After hiking back to the car, we drove into town and checked into our motel. The wifi we paid for was spotty, as seems standard around here, so we decided to head into town for dinner and an Internet cafe. We ate at the Ming Restaurant, which was both delicious and reasonably priced, and our table neighbors generously shared their Gewurztraminer. We had less success with finding wifi, however, as most places were closing around 8 and the only other option was a coin-op desktop PC. Finally we discovered a network which let us buy an hour of time with a credit card for five bucks. I sat outside and Internetted while Ljuba headed home to relax.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Tuesday Evening, Part II
We’re staying at the Black Sheep Lodge, a decent backpackers-type place near the city centre. After checking in and doing some research, we drove up into the hills a bit for a hike along the Queenstown hill walking track.
This town is ludicrously picturesque, surrounded by a series of snow-capped alpine peaks huddled around a sedate blue lake. Sailboats slide over the smooth surface of the water as puffy New Zealand clouds scud across the broad sky.
The trail led us upward through foxglove, mountain ash, maple, and ferns. Higher up we reached a pine forest, and farther still we emerged to bald highlands. Here we learned that the Douglas Firs which thickly coat the foothills around Queenstown were planted by settlers in the 1800s. Their hold on the land was strengthened by school Arbor Day plantings in the 50’s, and now they’ve taken over the landscape. An exotic fungi developed in symbiosis with the pines and changed the composition of the soil, preventing endemic plants from taking root. Local restoration seems to be going strong, however: there were a number of felled Doug Firs along the hilltops, and efforts were being made to slowly peel back the expanding pine forest. Ljuba and I remarked at how quickly our appreciation of the scenic forests soured upon learning the history behind their prolific spread.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)