We touched down in Christchurch feeling pretty excited about the next six weeks. From the very conception of this trip, NZ had been a destination we had high hopes for.
The weather in the largest city on the South Island was a small slice of home with a cold, wet drizzle accompanying us to our hostel. With the centrally placed cathedral and boats floating along the Avon river it had a distinct sense of familiarity compared to Asia and Oz.
We spent a day soaking up some of the sights before picking up the campervan that would trustily speed us around on our road trip for the next five weeks. We'd gone with a good solid budget option (old habits die hard) and rented our van from Escape.
It's fair to say their vans are distinctive with each one being painted by a kiwi artist. We were a little aprehensive after seeing some vans on the road with scenes such as a slightly dirtier version of the traditional teddy bears picnic painted on the side. Luckily ours was a little more toned down and so we haven't spent too much time offending old women and children.
First heading was inland towards Mt Cook, the highest peak in Australasia. On route we passed a couple of stunning lakes - Lake Tekapo with it's vibrantly turqoise waters, and Lake Pukaki with a kind of milky blue hue caused by "rock flour". Buggered if I know what that is.
We stopped at the latter for the night, and our pitch was less of a powered campsite and more of a gravelled lay by with spectacular views of the lake and Mt Cook in the distance. This was our first taste of Freedom Camping, the kiwi's liberal approach to just pulling up on the side of the road for the night. I get the feeling I'd fit right in here.
Unfortuntely, the mountain lay shrouded in clouds for most of the night, although it did make a brief cameo through the overcast skies when I stepped out for a tinkle at dusk. Timing is everything.
Next stop was Dunedin, a bit of a studenty spot (dirty freeloaders) plus the steepest street in the world. Being from Bristol with it's abundence of heart attack inducing lanes, we checked out this pretender to the crown. It's fair to say that I wouldn't like to tackle a jog with this bugger in but I'm still not sure it would stand up to the mighty Constitution "good luck in cardiac recovery" Hill.
We'd nearly reached the bottom of the South Island and took the Southern Scenic Route through the Catlins towards the sounds and mountains of Fjordland. There were numerous beaches, reputedly home to sea lions, seals, dolphins and penguins. All we managed to spot was a fossilised tree.
Dissapointing nature spotting aside we headed round towards Milford and it's famous Sound. But not before stopping off in Clifden (stupid kiwis can't even spell) to catch a nosey at its suspension bridge. All sounding a bit familiar?
Again not a spot on the real thing in glorious Brizzle, although they did have some nearby caves that you could go exploring on your own. After squeezing through a couple of tight spots our one dodgy torch started to concern us though so we bravely turned around and bottled it.
Next up was a bit of a gimme for this trip, the glacial carved fjord feeding inland from the Tasman Sea, generally referred to as the Milford Sound for short. It's big and impressive with ludicrously steep snow capped mountains shooting out of water that's over 1000m deep in parts. Or so we're told. It rained and remained resolutely overcast throughout our entire cruise so we missed out on some of the more spectacular views. Still a hugely atmospheric place though, and we even saw our first seal!
Lot's of scenery in the bag by now, so it was time to move on and try and get the adrenaline pumping. Not that Queenstown is short on scenery with The Remarkables and Lake Wakatipu backing it up nicely. I was here though to get a bungy jump out of my system, and what better way than the 134m high Nevis bungy. Biggest in NZ and the third biggest in the world.
Erica went horse riding for the day (wimp) whilst I was carried out by cable car to the suspended capsule that would hopefully hold me and the monster Fergburger I'd eaten last night as I plummeted towards the ground. The blood starts pumping faster as soon as you see the drop, and by the time you've watched three or four people go off the edge you're completely strung out on adrenaline. The jump itself was awesome and that moment when you drop off the edge and can't even feel the rope attached to your legs is fantastic.
Crazy stuff out the way we got ourselves kitted up in Queenstown and headed out on the three day hike that is the Routeburn Track. It's a gentle 34 km over three days and there's no McDonalds along the way so we were loaded up with tasty freeze dried snacks and rabbit food. In summary, Day 1 and 3 were scorching hot and the scenery was incredible. It's an apline trek so you're high up on some ridge or other a lot of the time with panoramic views of the Southern Alps all around. Day 2 was a wash out.
We gratefully accepted our reward of a juicy steak followed by a morning fry up in Queenstown before heading further north up the west coast towards the Franz Josef Glacier.
We opted for a full day hike on the big hunk of ice which involved us following our trusty guide kevin (how can you trust someone called kevin) and his axe (especially when they have an axe). To be fair though, he did a pretty good job of carving steps out of the ice for us to scale the chilly beast. There was plenty of squeezing through tight crevasses barely wide enough for peter crouch and a couple of leaps of faith over faults in the ice of indeterminate depth. Best of all, I got given my own ice axe. All good fun.
A quick dive across the interior of the island via Arthurs Pass and we found ourselves on the east coast in Kaikoura for a bit of whale spotting. We left from the Whaleway Station (chuckle chuckle) and headed out on a catamaran in search of the blubbery chaps. By all accounts we had one of the best trips they'd taken out in ages. Final count was three sperm whales, two blue whales and a bucket full of dusky, and the particularly rare hectors, dolphins. Not bad.
Having not hiked up a mountain or glacier for a few days we were getting itchy feet so decided on a little mountain biking expedition along the Kaikoura Coastal Track. This is a 43km walk that can be done on a bike if you wish in a day less. Sounded like a nice laid back way to see some scenery but our lack of research into the terrain meant that we hadn't spotted the 500m climb that we'd have to do each day. When they say mountain, they mean mountain. I'd have to say I really enjoyed pushing erica's bike up the hill after I'd got mine to the top. Honest.
With our legs now shattered into lactic acid saturated pieces, we decided to finish the South Island circuit with something far more appealing. A little wine tasting in the renowned Marlborough region. Being driven around and getting pissed wasn't a bad way to wind down before finally jumping on the ferry at Picton to make our way to the gateway of the North Island, Wellington.
We may have even got carried away and shipped 12 bottles of their finest sauv blanc back to the UK. Whether they'll escape the clutches of Erica's mum, or more likely Hagg and Sam, is another matter entirely...
