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.