After a birthday night bus to Sydney, a quiet day involving a walk and a pick-up of an Indian Visa, and a mad scramble involving an annoying alarm clock, I caught a flight to Auckland, New Zealand.
My first night was interesting to say the least. I met a Kiwi guy called Dave, a guy who seemed to be trying very hard to be funny, but continuously failed. For the first half hour, he only successfully made me laugh once; when he told me he was a comedian. Two or three hours passed, however, and I gradually began to find his stories and anecdotes more amusing. In an attempt to move on from the past, he officially has changed his full name to 'Dave' ... just 'Dave'. He also told me of his new project; to open up a couple of clubs. This would cost twenty-three million Kiwi Dollars, and he would make the money over a five year project which involved walking through the streets and asking people for twenty-three million dollars. It took me the entire evening to eventually realise that he was totally serious. However, the hostel we were staying in was dire, and after he informed me how he has been chucked out of numerous hostels in the past, I made a morning decision to leave him and his quest alone and find a better place to stay.
I soon checked into the Auckland YHA, an excellently equipped hostel. Auckland itself, however, was less impressive. The only interesting thing I found was the museum. The volcano simulator in particular was entertaining; You sit in a fake living room with a big window displaying a simulated look-out over the lake. The TV then turns on informing people via newsflash about an imminent volcano eruption from within the lake. As the report continues with increasing distress, the outside lake begins to steam, ripple and erupt. The room shakes, and the distance ash begins to roar towards the room. It was actually quite scary!
After a few days finding my feet and planning a route, I made the journey to Waitomo Caves. I did a really good trip through the caves involving some abseiling and rock climbing through the incredible caverns. I also met Mike in my hostel, a Dundee guy who knows the band 'The View'.
I soon joined Mike in my next location; smelly Rotorua. Rotorua is famous for it's thermal activity (hence the stench), and local Maori culture experiences. I joined Mike on an evening trip to the latter. I was quite surprised by how polished the evening was; It was more of a performance than a genuine cultural experience. It was well done though, if a little too produced. The bus ride home, however, was a little too much. The over-enthusiastic driver was pushing us to sing national anthems and have a general 'sing-song'. Me and Mike did our best to act like grumpy old men and hide our faces. Towards the end of the journey, the bus driver found it amusing to loop continuously around the roundabout whilst arousing a round of 'She'll Be Coming Round The Mountain When She Comes'. Once it finished, an overenthusiastic American lady felt like we needed more, and so the verses and rotations continued. Suddenly one girl arose out of her seat and clambered down the aisle screaming 'Stop The Bus!'. Unfortunately for her, she was unable to out-shout the boisterous choir. Only when she staggered to the very front and vomited on the floor did the driver pull up. The resulting awkward silence was priceless - and if nothing else she succeeded in ending the tunes for me and Mike.
After a morning visit to a local thermal attraction, I moved on to my next Kiwi location; Taupo. Taupo is famous for extreme sports, but with Sky Diving and White Water rafting already in my belt, I took a back seat. However, I took the opportunity to meet up with my friend Chris from home who was travelling in the opposite direction. After over six months of hellos and goodbyes, it was good to spend a day catching up with a familiar face.
My final day in Taupo involved an early start to experience The Tongariro Crossing, often described as 'the best day trek in New Zealand'. I expected the climb to the summit of the mountain to be the toughest trek of my journey so far, and also a little scary in places. I was wrong. While it was slightly tiring, it was the danger of the journey that totally stunned me. Parts of the ascent involved dangerous and steep mountain faces, where total faith in your crampons (spiked mountain shoes) was fundamental. As we crept slowly along the drops, I was looking forward to making it to the summit.
Back in Taupo two days earlier, Chris had warned me about the vertigo inducing drops, but he also informed me about how you don't need to worry about the descent; You can just slide down the other side of the mountain. However, my heart sank when we were informed on the summit of Mt Tongariro that sliding down the far side of the mountain was not a safe option with the current icy conditions, and so we turned around and began to face the drops again ... downwards.
Luckily we were able to travel much quicker on the descent, and contrary to what the guide informed us, I found it much easier and less daunting. After the difficult parts were over, we finally reached the softer snow, enabling us to let gravity and shallow slopes glide us down on our backsides. However, most of the group undertook the first slope with their crampons still in place, and I would soon regret following suit. Shortly before my first slide had come to halt, I lowered my left foot too quickly, lodging it into the ground and twisting my ankle. I was lucky though, despite the injury I was still able to walk and slide the remainder of the route. A fellow trekker who made the same mistake was less fortunate, limping painfully for the remaining hours of the descent at a snail's pace.
It is now a couple of days later, and despite a nasty limp I think my ankle is slowly improving. I am now in Napier meeting some friends who I met in Auckland. Although I'm trying not to walk too much, I'm probably gonna go to a rugby match later; a New Zealand must. Tomorrow I will probably move on to Wellington, and following that, the south island.
I spent Wednesday walking around Queenstown, and on Thursday I braved the cold and rain and walked up The One Mile Track. Unfortunately my guide book failed to inform me that there was lots more uphill walking once the track was finished - and as my legs began to tire and the first snowfall of my travels began to fall, I started to regret having no idea where the top was. Luckily it was not too far away.
By now it was quite late, and the top of the hill was fairly low on activity - but I was still able to go luging (a kind of basic downhill go-kart), witness a very calm looking man indulge in a canyon-swing bungy jump, and enjoy the steep cable-car ride back down to the bottom of the hill. The evening was spent in a few bars with Spud from my dorm.
The rain continued to blight my time in Queenstown, but nevertheless I booked a trip to Milford Sound for Saturday. The scenery on the drive there was very impressive, and the cruise on the water was even better.
