Haere mai ki Aotearoa

I wanted to put the title in Maori, but my search to find a translation has proved to be inept and pointless. If anyone can advise the correct way to do it, then I'll change it.

Nice work Mr Adams. Thanks very much

Well, we're off to a much better start than last time. NZ has some of the strictest quarantine laws on earth, if not the strictest. They make the Aussies look slack. I had to declare my Tim-Tams, parmesan and walking boots. All of which were inspected. Last time I was sent off to clean my Rugby boots. Twice. I wasn't happy (it was Aussie mud they spotted under the microscope). Today my boots passed without me rolling my sleeves up.

About 5 mins out of the airport, I saw a large grassy expanse with well over a dozen Rugby pitches. The sporting priorities are different here.

Christchurch is the largest population centre in the South Island, but from what I can see the chain stores and multinationals are comfortably outnumbered by more traditional and local businesses. Nice to see globalisation getting a kick in the balls.

Now NZ and I didn't really get on last time. Is it any wonder that at 18, having travelled half way round the world, I wasn't enamoured by such English scenes?



I remember thinking I'd landed in the 50s. I think NZ and I have changed a bit since then and I reckon we're going to get along much better this time. If not, I'm off to Tonga and Samoa.

And I haven't seen a hobbit yet; well not knowingly. However, the posters are up for Dame Kiri's latest, possibly never-ending, tour. So I'm definitely in New Zealand.

There's really not a lot to do in Christchurch-the Crusaders aren't at home till next weekend. That's OK, the weather's been lovely ('best of the summer', according to the girl singing in the park) and I'm fairly much worn out.

Last night I went to the cathedral to see the choir perform the Crucifixion. It was in English, sung by the cathedral's second choir (as the Bishop emphasised unnecessarily), by a composer I'd never heard of, whose name I've now forgotten. I went because I was strolling past and it was on and free. It's not often I get the chance to go to something in a cathedral and because of planning and time restrictions, I haven't done many things that I just walked past. Notwithstanding the three parts that the congregation/audience were asked to join in, it was really rather good.

I'm sure you all know that Easter's coming and are looking forward to a long weekend and chocolate eggs. It's less good news for me, as it means lots of people are travelling. So I had a late one last night, working out exactly which buses I need and where I'm going to stay. I then spent an hour this morning booking up the next week and a bit. I found this a touch disappointing, as I had hoped to be less rigid in NZ, but I had little choice. Free and easy, once the cream eggs are taken off sale. Yeah right.

On the plus side, it looks like I should be able to do my PADI in Dunedin as long as the dive shop stays open for Easter-couldn't get through to them. On the minus side, I may be reduced to eating grass. I had it in my mind that NZ would be quite a bit cheaper than Oz, and to an extent I think it is. However, the exchange rate is substantially less favourable than I had expected and although I'm not going bungy jumping, rafting or skydiving, PADI at $400, overnight Doubtful Sound trip at $300 and the rest are going to spank some funds.

Still a walk around the city and a visit to the Canterbury Museum cost me no more than an ice cream this afternoon. I can only describe the museum as a bit provincial-had some nice stuff, but was a bit tired and worn. So perhaps I should describe it as Bagpuss. The best bit was on the Antarctic; several major expeditions including Scott and Shackleton set off from here. NZ's also one of the 12 original signatories of the Antarctic Treaty. There's an Antarctic centre I plan to visit on my return-my route goes south before I head North towards the North Island.

All great cities are on the water. Discuss.

I believe Madrid is the only European capital not on water, so maybe it's a slightly unfair proposition. I can' think of an exception tho. Christchurch is not a great city, but the river is in keeping with it. Firstly, it's called the Avon, reinforcing that link to England. A link that it further emphasises by street names being English-Manchester, Hereford, or colonial-Madras, Colombo. It seems the early immigrant rulers in NZ had none of the ego of their Aussie counterparts. Secondly it looks so English as to be the ideal location to film Jane Austen's "Miss Marple investigates the murder of Jeeves and Wooster". And finally the Avon is small, but beautiful; much of the time it's out of sight, even when you're nearly stood on top of it.

Lake Tekapo
An early bus this morning to take me to Lake Tekapo, where I'd decided to spend on day on my way to NZ's highest peak-Mount Cook. This was based on it sounding rather lovely in the Lonely Planet. They were right.

As the bus made its way into the 'township' (population 315), the views were breathtaking-as we moved around the lake, its backdrop changed from nearby hills to forest to distant snow capped mountains. This inspired me to get a wriggle on and get out there. Half an hour after getting to the bus stop, I've called the hostel, they've picked me up, I've checked in, filled the water bottles, changed my shoes, picked a route and am on my way. Plus I managed to take this photo from the veranda outside my room.



$25 a night!

And just across the road



It seems I'll be doing no more hiking or walking, instead I shall be doing some serious tramping. Sadly, this doesn't mean I shall become a latter day Keith Miller Casanova, as tramping is the Kiwi word for wandering round the countryside. I rather like it.

I walked on a high lakeside path for about 20 mins, before cutting back up the very special local mountain. I went up 300m, which I thought wasn't bad in an hour that was largely pretty easy. At over 1,000m this is Mount John.



Love it. As I saw more horses, 4, than people in the whole day's walking (about 5 hours), this one needed the help of my mini-tripod and a stile. This is likely to become one of my favourite John standing by something called John photos. If Lake Tekapo were in Europe, there'd be people and holiday homes everywhere. The lake did have speedboats and water skiers, but never more than 2 and usually none.

I followed this up with an enjoyable shambles on a less interesting walk, which I livened up with several wrong turns. I must be more careful when I get among the snow and glaciers. Still, it seems Kiwis are like Aussies on the estimated timings you get for walks, sorry tramps. It tends to take between half and two thirds of the advised time.

As I was walking back to the hostel I passed the village Church, which was sweetly proportioned in the most fantastic location.



Sadly, my photo's a bit pony, should have got higher and further away. The whole place is just perfect for lazy picnics by the lake; now, if I can just find some tramp who'll have a picnic with me.......

I was meant to spend the evening star gazing at the Mount John observatory, but cloud cancelled the night's tour. This was quite a disappointment: I've had a number of nights under stunning southern skies and Tekapo is billed as the best NZ has to offer. I was looking forward to finding out more about what I'd been gazing on from my swag. Still, they were nice enough to drive to the pick up point and tell me in person.

Of course, one door closes and another opens. I spent 4 months in Oz without coming across one, but 3 nights in Kiwiland and I met my first Kylie. Naturally, she was from Sydney. Until I met Kylie, I'd been closing in on an important record. The longest I've been without drinking is 6 nights (when I was around Brisbane). I realise that knowing that must sound incredibly anal, but I haven't been keeping track. It popped into my head when I was walking: I know for absolute certain that when I was with Mill, David, Gwyn, Helen, Jamie, Kate, Nicole, Pete and Scatman there's no way I went 2 or 3 days without a drink. Chuck in my booze cruise down the East coast of Oz and that's nearly the whole trip! I would have equalled the record last night and was looking forward to breaking it at Mount Cook-one whole week dry! You can hardly say no if Kylie offers you a glass or two of red. It was a particularly nice Pinot Noir.

One thing that I have already sensed in NZ is that their integration of indigenous people appears miles better than Oz. That's hardly surprising, but it's interesting that I already have that impession-the Maori population is supposed to be concentrated on the North Island. When I bought my bus pass, the lady in Backpackers World Travel was certainly of South Sea Island heritage, if not Maori. I never saw an aboriginee in an equivalent situation in Australia. Like Ireland and that place between Ireland and England where they think they can play Rugby, much of the tourist info and many of the road signs are dual language-Maori and English. I'm guessing there aren't Maori names for everything, as a lot of the settlements were created by the colonisers. Anyway, I'm impressed so far; perhaps some of the Australian government could drag themselves away from kissing Bush's arse and take a look.

Sozz has texted me to say we've got Glastonbury tickets. Thanks and nice.

Aoraki (Mount Cook)
There are a number of amazing tramps and climbs here for people who are experienced and know what they're doing. Since 5-10 people die on Mount Cook every year, the Maoris think climbing it innapropriate and I'm witless, I won't be doing any of that. There's a number of more straightforward tramps for the non Edmund Hilarys amongst us and I plan to do most of them. Don't take this to mean that I'm not shagged out after this afternoon's effort. One of this afternoon's straightforward tramps, Red Tarns, involved a steep 400m ascent-it's one of those tracks with steps, so you don't need crampons. Still, that's over 1,000 steps. I tied this in with the Governor's Bush forest walk and some more up and down, before heading to the Glencoe walk for views over Mount Cook. It was a great spot



Staying an hour for the sunset was a chilly mistake, however.

All this makes tomorrow look pretty ambitious-I'm trying to combine 3 walks, one of which is for slightly more experienced idiots. It has 'technical' sections. I may have to do this on a diet of Snickers-there's no supermarket here, the hostel's out of cheese and I've no food for picnics. I should probably try and rely on my fat reserves for a full day on the tramp, but I'm trying to be vaguely sensible. Navigation was better today-only went the wrong way when heading out the hostel to the information centre.

Bigger Tramps
The weather wasn't so kind today-intermittent rain, cooler and quite windy. I was planning on a big day, so got on the road early.

First stop was the Hooker valley. After a couple of hours and swingbridges



I reached the lake at the foot of the glacier. It was cold there-the coldest I've been since leaving England. That was hardly surprising when I saw the ice floating in the lake.




On my way back down the Hooker valley, I went up to see the Alpine monument, which was very moving. There was a recent handwritten dedication and memorials to dozens of others. I read them all. 5-10 deaths a year seem a lot more when you see the plaques adorning two sides of the monument.



It's surprising anyone climbs it, especially the Zurbrigen pass, which seemed to be the main culprit.

It turned out that on these walks the timings were pretty spot on. After 5 and half hours, I was sitting at the end of the Kea Point track looking out on the Mueller glacier (surprisingly not made of yoghurt).



The remaining walk was off a turn on the way back to the village, but it involved a 400m climb. I was tired and thinking only of omelette and chips. I figured two longish walks was a decent effort for the day. As my stomach led me back, I looked up at the turn for the Sealy Tarns walk. I couldn't work out how the track went up the mountain. The only 'path' I could see was an unstable scar of glacial moraine (hope that's right). So I thought I'd go and have a look. Just a quick look, then straight back for that late lunch. Naturally the track zig zagged; being a bit slow, it was 10 minutes before I realised I was doing the walk. It was steep and hard work. As usual, it took a sudden abyss to remind me that I'm scared of heights. I carried on, but it got more exposed and the wind got up. After about an hour, I reached a point I'd never have got back down-a 15-20 foot climb that looked OK going up, but back down a slip would have led to a nasty drop. I figured it was a long way back down, feeling wobbly-shame as I was only 5 or 10 mins from the top. As this self-portrait shows, I was high enough and had done a good bit of exercise.



Even from there, it was an hour back to the village.

So the late lunch became a very late lunch. I couldn't find an omelette, but the veggie pastie that accompanied my chips was top, even if was hotter than the sun.

Oh, and check out Sir Edmund Hilary's quiff



I know. It's off CD, I can't rotate it. Had a virus and hassles. So shut it, right?

Return of the Penguins
Did I mention I've seen the odd penguin in the Southern hemisphere? Well, I'm spending tonight in Oamaru, breaking the journey to Dunedin for a penguin double. I'll be at one beach for the return of the Yellow Eyed Penguins, before moving on to the Blue penguins (also known as Fairy, furthermore known as Little-we've been there before). First, I need to get to Oamaru.

The Intercity doesn't do Mount Cook-Oamaru, so I had to book a separate, slightly pricey shuttle. I'll have to do this a few times and thought it a right pain in the butt. On this occasion it was great. When Allan picked me up, he said I was the only passenger for the first 45 mins, so I jumped up front and we spent most of the next 2 and a half hours chatting. Nice to get a local viewpoint on inter-island rivalries amongst other things. We were joined by a monosyllabic pub worker and Gwen, who was travelling nearly 2 hours to get to a supermarket.

Interesting to note that of the 4 people in the bus, I was easily the most interested in Rugby-perhaps the Kiwi obsession with the sport is as exaggerated as the oft media reported Indian obsession with cricket that Mik and I saw scant evidence of. Everyone seems to expect me to like soccer. At Oamaru, Allan gave me a quick tour of town and dropped me off at the door of the Red Kettle YHA and the Intercity doesn't do that.

Usually when someone tells me the people in a place are friendly, I take that to mean the place is a hole and they're clutching at straws. After all, people are people. So when I tell you Oamaru is friendly, I have to say it really is. I've got used to the way you say hello/hi/g'day/how's it going to absolutely everyone whose path you cross when out tramping: as yet no one's keeled over and died when I did this, so I'm pretty sure I can't have encountered a tube-commuting London type. The tube is surely the least friendly place on earth. Anyway, in Oamaru you walk down the street and plenty of locals are saying hi. I walked straight out the hostel into a 10 minute conversation with Bob. As for the drivers, they've clearly never heard of hoons-you stand on the pavement looking across the road and they're beckoning you across. One car did this on a 2 lane road, with traffic moving outside him: I started off hesitantly-after all, it was jolly nice him letting me across, but I was going to get flattened by the other lane. Not a bit of it. As I stepped in front of his stationary car, the traffic in the other lane stopped and made the 'after you' signal. Marvellous. I also the sign at Red Kettle-'Trespassers will be composted'.

I did a quick tour of town, found out the railway line stopped you having breakfast on the beach and decided to give the art gallery a go before heading to the Yellow Eyed penguin beach. It was exactly what a local art gallery should be: populated by local artists, depicting mainly local scenes, not too big and with a temporary exhibition on a local artist/collector.

I strode purposefully out of the gallery, but soon discovered that some joker had put a bloody massive hill between town, the Blue penguins and the Yellow Eyed Penguins. My shins already ache from the descents around Mount Cook. Oh well.

Initially the hide contained just a Japanese girl and a slightly puffed yours truly. She'd seen 1 in about 45 mins; after we'd been chatting for 15 mins or so, I jabbed my finger at the one coming out the water right below us. We were about 25m up, so this was a reasonable result. I got a photo, of sorts.



Over the next hour and a bit, I saw another 5. I later found out that was really lucky, as there were only 9 in the colony. Yellow Eyed are rare. I bade my farewells and headed back up and over the mountain to the Blue penguins.

While waiting for the Blue penguins, I watched a full pink moon rise out of the Pacific to the East. Quite something, even with a photo ban (to protect the penguins). The penguin parade itself was very similar to Philip Island, but much more limited in scale. A great way to spend an hour. It was just as well the hostel was small and homey-there were just 5 of us in for the night. I think Bob may lose his fight to stop the YHA closing the hostel for the winter.

I had some time before my bus this morning and gave the museum a go, but it didn't have much, so I found a bakery and took my ill gotten gains to the public gardens, which were impressive for a small town and deserted apart from the gardener, who's now disappeared..