Dunedin, New Zealand

It’s a ritual I bet travelers other than us observe: buying the grand kids a little something on the last day of the trip. Except in our case it gets to be like the Cold War arms race: continual escalation of gifts to make sure each grand kid gets his or her equal share. We reach a state of Mutually Assured Gifting.

“If we buy that for Reagan we’ll have to find something for Esme to make it equal.”

“But if we buy that for Esme we’ll have to get something else for Griffin.”

“But now Carter needs something more.”

And so on.

Maybe we should stick with one of those “Grandma and Grandpa went to Florida and all I got was this stinkin’ tee shirt” tee shirts for each kid and call it quits. But what fun is that?

We spent most of the morning touring the Octagon (central square) and surrounding central city district of Dunedin. And what a nice town it is. I’d have to say that Dunedin is the nicest looking town we’ve seen in New Zealand. It has retained a lot of its 19th and 20th century English/Scottish architecture in the form of churches, the railroad station and government buildings. Plus, the newer buildings seem to fit in nicely with the old. Dunedin is built on the side of a hill or two which adds to the charm. Overall, it’s a great feel, pleasing to the eye.

We had lunch at a funky cafe downtown and then got in the car for our last sightseeing drive. Our objective: the Otago Peninsula, a land mass attached to the city proper. Driving time from downtown to the far end is about 45 minutes. Larnach Castle was the main attraction; the Royal Albatross Center and the Blue Penguins were “if we have time” stops.

I don’t know why, but when I looked at the Otago Peninsula on the map back home in New Hampshire I envisioned a flat, low-lying peninsula, like Long Island, maybe. Couldn’t have been more wrong. The scenic route follows the north coast of the peninsula, and I mean it follows it really close. Sheer walls on the inside and narrow shoulders on the water side and swerving curves every fifty meters or so made for interesting driving, especially when meeting a gigantic tour bus.

By the way, the Princess Line cruise boat was in port today and so the streets were crammed with old folks with blue ID tags. It made us feel superior to be “independent travelers” rather than members of the sheep herd.

We’re not the only ones to spoil them rotten. William James Mudie Larnach built what he called “The Camp” but which the popular press dubbed “The larch Castle” for his wife Eliza. She came from a rich family; he apparently married above his station in life. It is indeed a formidable looking structure high on a bluff overlooking the bay and Dunedin.

Larch was an Australian by birth but was an entrepreneur and banker in New Zealand during its British period during the reign of Queen Victoria. He speculated on land, was active in mining and farming and who knows what else. Frequently his investments were highly leveraged with debt. He made a lot of money with his land holdings but lost money in banking. He was also quite active in politics.

Long story short, he was on the brink of bankruptcy, his honor was called into question because of his business dealings and he, mistakenly, voted on a banking bill involving his own bank. For whatever reason, he locked himself in a committee room at Parliament and shot himself with his revolver. A tragic story, to be sure, but the castle and his story is illustrative of what economic and political life was like in New Zealand in the 19th century.

We finished at the Castle around 4 PM and so had time to do Albatrosses and Penguins before hanging up our tourist spurs. Off we went on the twisty-winding shore road a few kilometers before I looked down at the gas (sorry, petrol) Gauge: darn near empty. A quick google search showed no petrol stations on the Peninsula so we did a 180, headed for town, got gas and set out once more.

This time we figured we’d be smart and take the inland route, the one suggested by the GPS, rather than the twisty-winding coastal road. Unfortunately, the inland road was even more twisty-winding and was also narrower and went up to dizzying heights before plunging back to sea level. Probably the scariest road we’ve encountered in New Zealand.

By the time we reached the Albatross center it was 6 PM, the prospects for Albatross viewing were looking sketchy and penguins wouldn’t appear until 8:30. So back we went this time via the shore route, which seemed pretty tame in comparison.

Our final dinner was a lamb shank for each, wine for Judy and a lager for me. As I posted on Facebook, we ate our final dinner at an Irish pub in a Scottish-themed city in New Zealand watching the All Blacks play Australia on TV. It’s a cosmopolitan world in which we live.

Judy’s packing our bags as I type. Tomorrow at 2:40 our flight leaves Dunedin for Auckland, connecting to flights to San Francisco and Boston. That’s an 8:40 PM departure, Saturday, Eastern time. We arrive in Boston at 9:51 PM Sunday, a cool 25 hours of traveling. Piece of cake.

Thanks to everyone for following along and especially for all the nice comments as we’ve traveled. It really helps on a long trip like this to hear from folks back home. Now, figure out where you’d like to go and sign us up to come along – we’re always up for an adventure!

I’ll send out a message when we’re home to let you know we got there OK but no more pontificating, I promise!

Dunedin, New Zealand

This oughta be brief because it’s 9:30 and we’re just finishing our lamb kabobs in our room here in Dunedin. It’s been a long day: we left Te Anau later than planned (9:00 AM) because we didn’t get to bed until Midnight last night. We drove about 250 miles today to get from Te Anau to Dunedin. Google says you can do it in about 3.5 hours (175 miles). The route we plotted calls for 5 hours (240 miles) on Google. We managed to do it in a little over 11 hours. Now you see the problem.

The first problem was snow. Not on the highways, on the mountain tops. While we’ve been doing our thing in Doubtful Sound and Milford Sound suffering from the rain, sleet and low hanging clouds that obscured any hope of seeing mountain peaks, those mountain peaks received a liberal dusting of snow. When we hit the Southern Scenic Route it was one stop after another to admire (and photograph) the views. And when we weren’t admiring the snow-capped mountains we had spectacular views of our old friend, the Tasman Sea as it crashed onto the shore. Pain in the neck; thought we’d never escape those dratted mountains.

Our original thought was to go through Invercargill, the southern most city in New Zealand. Instead we went to Bluff, an industrial town south of Invercargill. It’s home of the aluminum facility that spurred the construction of the Doubtful Sound hydro electric project we saw just two days ago. Bluff is also a manufacturing center and also has what looks to be a major seaport facility. We saw several frozen meat facilities through which frozen lamb and grain-fed beef are exported. It’s definitely not a tourist destination; it is a city that keeps its nose to the grindstone from what we could see. The main tourist attraction was a lookout point to see the coast line and crashing waves.

Oh by the way, why did we pick Bluff? Because it’s the terminus of New Zealand’s State Highway 1. Bluffonians would probably prefer to think it as the start of SH 1. But that’s our reason, pure and simple. We once went to the end of US Highway 12 for the same no-good reason.

The Southern Scenic route continues up the east coast to Dunedin. As such, it bypasses the much faster SH-1 (the quake-closed highway that, last we heard, is still impassable further north in Kaikoura). The route we took follows the coast and that meant we made several stops as we went north.

Slope Point claims to be the point furthest south in all of the South Island. Stewart Island lies south of the South Island so has claim to being the furthest south in all of New Zealand. The neat thing about Slope Point is that you reach it by walking through an honest-to-goodness, watch-where-you-step sheep pasture. It wasn’t in active use although a few stray sheep were grazing there as we passed through. But it was fun to feel what it is like to be a sheep, looking for the next tuft of grass to consume and never giving a thought to Rack of Lamb being such a popular menu item.

Speaking of sheep, we came across a mama ewe and her two lambs sauntering down the center of the 100 km/hr road. Escapees, I’m sure and we wished we could find someone to report the problem to but there were no nearby farm houses we could see.

Next we stopped at Curio Bay to see the petrified tree logs, what the Lonely Planet calls fossilized Jurassic-age trees that are visible embedded in the rocks at low tide. The tide was low enough and sure enough there they were. The sign said that they date back 160 million years ago, a time before bird and flowering plant life had evolved. In fact, what is now New Zealand was at that time part of Godwana, a super continent that included present day Australia, India, Antarctica and New Zealand. The separation occurred only 85 million years ago.

Dates like these always blow my mind. The Earth is a bit more than 4 billion years old. If you considered the time from the beginning of the Earth until today, 160 million years is like 15 days ago.The last ice age left New Zealand maybe 20,000 years ago. That’s like 4.5 minutes ago.

Curio Bay also happens to be home to the rare Yellow Eyed Penguin, not to be confused with the Crested Penguin we saw at Doubtful Sound. This is nesting season so Mom and her chicks are on the nest under the bushes along the rocky shore. Dad’s job is to fish and bring home his catch. He’s usually seen just before sunset. Sure enough, Judy spotted him waddling down the beach. You wonder how a bird like that can survive. He reminded me of an old man tottering along, each step a near disaster, requiring great forethought before he commits to making a move (just like I feel when I go for a walk). But snap, snap, we’ve got the pix and the video clip.

From there on it was nonstop to Dunedin. The GPS called for arrival at 8:24 PM; the office at our hotel closes at 9. We called, alerted the host to our situation (no problem, he said) and kept on trucking. We arrived four minutes early (I didn’t let any passing zones go to waste), checked in and hustled down the street to the Pasha Turkish restaurant. They were just closing but the nice cook whipped us the lamb kabobs and here we sit.

The interesting thing about today’s travels is that we saw country side and cities that are not part of the normal tourist trek. The farms weren’t situated on the slopes of breathtaking hills and mountains; most were fairly flat but prosperous looking. Bluff was as blue color and down-to-earth as you could imagine, but still neat and livable, just not a place you’ll find rated five star must-sees in Lonely Planet or Trip Advisor.

Tomorrow we’ll do downtown Dunedin for a few last minute souvenirs and gifts and then out on the nearby peninsula to see the castle, some more penguins and a Royal Albatross or two.

Te Anau, New Zealand

Judy: “After our cruise on Doubtful Sound I’m done.”

Jon: “Me too. I’m ready to go home. ”

It’s understandable, really. We’ve been traveling for 24 days.

We’ve seen a lot, done a lot, eaten a lot. What more is there? Doubtful Sound made a great capstone for a great trip.

Then today happened.

We’re on our way on Highway 94 to “do” Milford Sound because that’s what our itinerary tells us to do and people would look at us funny if we came so close and missed one of New Zealand’s top tourist attractions.

We left our hotel in light rain and cool (12 c) temperature – what turned out to be the high for the day. We decided to skip all scenic turnouts hoping for better weather on the way home. All but one that is.

As I mentioned earlier One of my personal objectives for this trip (actually the only objective save having fun, not getting sick, not wrecking the car or falling off anything) was to get the iconic photo of a Kea in flight, red under-wings and all. The best place to find Keas everybody tells me is the pull-off just before the tunnel going to Milford Sound. So that’s where we stopped. And what did we find? Rain mixed with sleet, strong winds and not one &$@?! Kea! The day is not looking good.

The tunnel is something else: 1200 meters long chiseled out of hard rock, single lane and darker than the inside of your hat. There’s a traffic light during the day along with a sign telling you how long you have to wait. At night? Good luck fella. That bright light might be a coach full of Chinese tourists coming your way.

The tunnel was dug beginning in 1935 as a depression-era make work project, starting with hand labor. It was finally completed in 1955 or so after a delay for WWII. It has created a tremendous tourist attraction in a special place in the world. And as with all New Zealand parks, hiking trails and tourist attractions, it’s well done – neat, tidy, interesting while protecting
the natural environment.

Milford Sound turned out to be a gift shop, cafe and cruise boat dock. The gifts were sparse and expensive, we weren’t hungry and we’d already said No to cruises, helicopter rides and jet boats. What to do?

Fortunately someone had constructed a nice walking path along the shore. “20 minutes return” (i.e., round trip) as usual turned into an hour for us. It was low tide so we walked down on the rocks and then again down to the mouth of the river that feeds into the sound. We listened for birds. The sun was out and we admired the magnificent scenery of lake, snow capped mountains and enough cruise boats to launch an invasion.

We drove back over the mountain with several attractions in mind on the other side of the tunnel including, of course, a return visit to Kea-land at the far end. But at the pull off before the tunnel there they were: Five, no six standing in the rain (it started right after we left the sound). Seeing the birds is easy. They are well trained to look for human handouts and failing that, to go after the tourist’s cars. We heard a story of a lady who left her car door open. A Kea jumped in, took her passport off the center console and flew back out. Keas also love rubber and will peck away at car tires and jump on the roof to get at the door gaskets. They know no shame.The trick is to get one to take off and fly thereby exposing their colorful under-wings. Once they are airborne the trick become photographic: exposure and focus tracking.

It took a while but I was finally successful, although our friend Juergen in Hokitika retains the professional championship for Kea photos.And yes, there were two lonely Keas at the far side of the tunnel. Judy got a big kick out of all the people shooting the poor birdies. We’re
talking 60 at a time jumping off a tour bus in their shirtsleeves (it was raining, sleeting and snowing, temp 5 c at this point) and crowding around a soaking wet Kea. A bunch of old guys like me with lenses even longer than mine tried for a few minutes. The guy with the longest, meanest-looking telephoto quickly gave up and pulled out his iPhone.

Monkey Creek was supposed to have a rare blue duck. “Haven’t seen one in quite some time,” a tour bus driver reported. A lone Kia and a nice couple from Holland made it worthwhile though.

After that it was “one more stop” after another. We went up a side road to a funky little motel off the main road. The attraction was a museum with artifacts of the area, many having to do with the tunnel construction era.

We also stopped at the Cascade Creek wayside stop where we took the Gunn Lake Nature Trail. Forty-five minutes return (we did it in 1:15). It was a forest of giant Red Beech trees and a covering of lush, green moss. Magical fairy land, Judy aptly called it.

Next, Mirror Lake. The wind was blowing too hard for a mountain reflection but there were some cute little ducks swimming in the lake.

Somewhere along the line we crossed the 45th parallel, marking the spot that is as close to the South Pole as our summer place at Onawa is from the North Pole.

Then, it was heads locked straight ahead, no more stops. Dinner and an early bed time.Right. One more stop with a great panorama of a broad valley, sheep grazing, snow-capped mountains in the distance. And the film is cheap.

Then we made it home. Dinner at the Fat Duck (fitting for us, the way our clothes aren’t fitting anymore). We did appetizers Kiwi style: fish chowder, green-lipped mussels and spare ribs, beer and a diet coke.

And yes, it is coming to an end. Tomorrow will be our last road trip (a biggie: 6 driving hours to Dunedin by way of Invercargill), our last hotel check-in, our last Wifi to decode and our last city to visit. But today recharged our batteries and made us ready for two more days of New Zealand.

Te Anau, New Zealand

We’re back in Te Anau after a restful night and great breakfast this morning. Breakfast was interrupted by another Crested Penguin sighting, in the rain naturally. It rained until we left the ship and reached the east side of the pass.

The steady rain had one salubrious result: waterfalls or more correctly cascades. Water pouring off the mountain sides everywhere we looked. Coupled with the low hanging clouds they created a fine mood. The captain maneuvered so that Carol the naturalist leaned over the bow of our ship to collect a pot full of water from a cascade so we could all have a taste. Tasted just like water even though it had a brownish tint.

The boat ride across Lake Manapouri back to town was uneventful and dry. Not many chose to sit outside in the breeze even though the sun was breaking through the clouds. We’d all had enough fresh air, I guess.

Judy and I drove back to Te Anau, checked back into our hotel and had a crackers and cheese lunch in the room. The day was too nice to waste so we went to the National Park center to view a short movie and then, at a ranger’s suggestion, drove a few kms to a car park for the Kepler Track. It’s a 60 km loop trail but, as you might guess, we walked for only an hour and returned. Kepler has become one of the most popular treks in Fjordland and its easy to see why. It’s very well maintained – a gravel path in most places – with great views and traverses a beech tree forest.

Judy and I, somewhat to our surprise, have been spending quite a bit of our hiking time looking for birds. My interest, of course, is taking pictures with that really big lens I bought recently. It’s tougher than it looks: small objects high in the trees, usually in dark woods with back lighting to make exposures tough to manage. Add to that the shaky hands of an old guy holding a heavy camera rig and you have less than 100% success rate.

I’m typing this on my iPhone, sitting in the car while Judy is in the supermarket laying on a grub steak for breakfast and lunch tomorrow. We’re hitting the road at 7 AM for Milford Sound. We’re going to sightsee on the way and decide when we get there whether to do another water activity. We’ve had six boat trips on this trip, seen all the sights and wildlife advertised for Milford so we may just wander around . . . Taking pictures of birds, of course.

Fish and chips for dinner and now we’re back in our room.

Manapouri, New Zealand

OK, we voluntarily left our ship, The Navigator, in kayaks in a protected bay of Doubtful Sound in perfectly flat water. But Doubtful Sound DOES open up on the Tasman Sea, which we’re told has the most violent waters of anywhere on the planet. And it WAS raining.

Judy points out that we’ve hiked, bicycled and now kayaked here in New Zealand – all in the rain. But we’ve had our fair share of beautiful weather, especially in the beginning of our trip.

We started the day in lazy mode, not getting to breakfast until almost 10. We then found our way to Montepouri, the takeoff point for our Doubtful Sound trip. We first had a one hour ferry boat ride down the length of Lake Montepouri and then a twenty minute bus ride across a mountain pass to reach Doubtful Sound and our ship.

The mountain pass road to totally isolated. No other road connects to it. It can be reached only by water. It was built in the 1960s as a means for delivering hydroelectric turbine equipment for a generating plant fed from Lakes Montepouri and Te Anau. The plant is located underground and fed via a viaduct that runs from the lake to the Sound. In this way the engineers could maintain the lake levels at their normal levels. A conventional hydro project would require lake levels to be raised by 100 meters. The tree huggers said no to that idea; the plant went underground.

Once underway our naturalist Carol pointed out penguins, both swimming in the sea and on an island. Also a colony of seals. Later we had a great performance by a pod of dolphins; there must have been a dozen. They made magnificent leaps completely out of the water. I’ll have to ask Carol if there is some reason for this behavior other than the sheer fun of it.

Next the kayaking experience. We were out for about 45 minutes, paddling along the banks the of our cove. It was raining with low clouds and mist that made for a surreal but beautiful environment. Afterward there was a chance to dive in and swim. I’m kicking myself, but not too hard, for not taking the plunge. The water was Onawa in July temperature by the feel of it on my hand.

Then, at 7:30 a dinner buffet, followed by a desert buffet, was served. Both were great and made me wish I had paddled around the ship three more times.

Now we’re in bed – sorry, in our berth. We’ll be awoken by the ship’s engines at 6:30 with breakfast at 7:00 and more cruising to get us back by noon. A great adventure!

I’ll post this as soon as we return to the land of Internet.