Sheridan’s Blog

I realised today that old men think they can dress up like Santa and approach anyone and try to strike up a conversation. Stop it, old man Santas - I’m onto you.

Today we arose at a monastic hour to get prepared for dolphin action. The dolphins live in the picturesque waters surrounding the Banks Peninsula, about an hour’s drive from Christchurch. The dolphins there are Hector’s Dolphins, and are apparently one of the rarest of all ocean-going dolphins, although they seldom go further than 5 miles offshore and are frequently found less than 800m from shore, particularly in Summer. These dolphins are an endangered species numbering only 6000-7000, and are only found in the waters off New Zealand. They’re pretty small by dolphin standards - female up to 1.4m (48kg) and males slightly smaller. They have a distinctive dorsal fin which is rounded (as opposed to the regular pointy-type) and black. We got suited up and onto the small boat, just 8 of us and our guides. We haven’t taken a lot of guided-style tours, but these guys were just fantastic. They had obviously done the tour many, many, many times before, and they were all calm and honest and knowledgeable. There was just the right amount of information and silence, and everything they did was right on the money. It was definitely not one of those tours where no one knows what’s going on or what to do and then wishes that they didn’t come. They were so cool that I almost wanted to swim with them after the dolphins.
The engine on the boat had only just kicked over when we saw the first dolphin, practically a stone’s throw from the dock. When we got another few minutes out, almost to the open seas the boat stopped and the guides pointed out the pod of dolphins. Firstly they were in pairs, and then slowly more came to check out the boat. We sat there watching and waiting for the dolphins to show some curiousity toward us, otherwise the guides weren’t going to let us in the water. After a few minutes of this, they allowed us to gently slip into the water. The guide gave me a couple of small rocks to bang together underwater as this apparently attracts the dolphins. It worked. And it was quite icy in the water, even with a serious wetsuit on. At first the dolphins swam around us a few metres away, but half an hour later they were darting between us and weaving around the group. They came in so close that you could reach out and touch them, if permitted. We all frolicked around in the waters for a good while, with more and more dolphins coming in to see what was going on. It was a bit choppy in the bay, which is allegedly ace conditions for the dolphins as they enjoy a bit of a surf on the waves. About ten minutes after my legs went numb, we got back on the boat and had a hot chocolate and headed for the shore. All in all it was a fantastic experience, made even better by the sensational guides and small group. Plus the weather was particularly spectacular as well, meaning we didn’t freeze to death when we got out of the water. I’d definitely go again, and I’d recommend the Black Cat company to anyone going to Akaroa (Banks Peninsula, just south of Christchurch).

Invercargill - home of the bogans and the $6 cooked breakfast. Invercargill will forever be known as the place with the almost perfect breakfast. I’ll give it the award for the best potato hash. Yesterday we drove here via Milford Sound, which supposedly is a fjord and not a sound (glacial versus river carving or something). The cruise was very nice.
It’s a 6-7 hour drive from Invercargill to Churchill, and we made a brief lunch stop in Dunedin, which seems a lovely place. It’s a university town, and we would have liked to stay there for a bit but time is against us. Perhaps next time, after we’ve stayed in Franz Josef until we’ve walked on the bloody glacier.
The weather has turned dramatically since leaving the glacier area. We had very pleasant weather in Queenstown, but even more so since we left there. I don’t think it has rained even once, and today as we drove, it ranged from 24-30C. I could see people swimming in the ocean as we drove by. Our faces got sunburned. I longed for sunscreen, which of course we did not bring. Apparently the good weather is to continue tomorrow, which is good since we have a swimming with the dolphins arrangement going on.
Another bonus here is the light. At 9pm it’s still quite light out - the result of which is that many attractions are open late. We arrived in Churchill around 6.30pm to find many hotels fully booked due to Cup Week, Show week and Rugby week, yet we quickly found accommodation (skills), had dinner, and rode the gondola all prior to 9pm. And it was still light when we got home. Now I feel kind of sad having to go to bed while it’s still light so we can get up at 6am for dolphins. Dolphins are so selfish.

Sadly we had to leave Queenstown. I really liked Queenstown and the mass of activities available there. And they have a kick-ass pavlova with lemon curd and raspberry coulis, which is nice after the whitebait fritter. In fact, I’m willing to bet it’s even nice after another pavlova with lemon curd.
Tomorrow we head down to Milford Sound, reportedly one of the most beautiful places in the world. Not difficult to believe.
Then we move on to Invercargill, home of the bogans, as we are led to believe. Invercargill is due South, almost on the coast, and there’s not a lot there. There are plenty of guys driving around in utes and various other imported cars with extra modifications attached. We were only here for the night.
Tomorrow we move North towards Christchurch.

Today we got up early (I see a pattern of early-rising emerging), had breakfast and then went on our horse-riding trip. The lucky horse to escort me around was called Franco, and he was a clydesdale. After getting over the initial shock of not having any of my feet on the ground, I quickly became a little bored. The horses all plodded along, one in front of the other, etc. There was an opportunity for a bit of a brief trot, but given that the other two riders were brand new to horses, we didn’t attempt it. I probably would have fallen off anyway. I suppose it would be wise to have lessons to learn how to ride a horse. After all, these places are not designed to teach you, they just employ a method of allowing you to see the countryside without walking. Essentially, it’s sight-seeing without any effort.
In the afternoon we were collected by the ‘wine bus’ and escorted to the Gibbston Valley winery. These people are fairly up themselves but in a generally tolerable way. And their wine was probably one of the best we tasted on the day. Then again, it may just have been that they were first and I was too far from sober to know the difference between wine or cheese by the end of it. The predominant variety grown in this region is the pinot noir, the climate here being characteristic of long warm days and cool nights, with an annual rainfall of only 300mm. Apparently when frost threatens, the more pedantic wineries (or the ones with the most $$) get helicopters on the stand-by (at a cost of $5000, and that’s just for the standing-by part), and have them fly over to circulate the air. According to the wine gurus, the pinot has a very thin skin and thus results in a lighter wine, as opposed to your heavy Shiraz and Cab Savs. At Gibbston Valley they also have a cheesery, from which we sampled many cheeses, some of which tasted similar to feet. I also had a very pleasant pinot gris (or grigio, depending on just how snobby you are). This is currently my favourite, particularly so because I like to say the word ‘gris’.
We then rolled onto another 4 or so wineries, our driver filling us in on local history and other anecdotes. Near the end, we made a stop at the AJ Hackett Bungy site, and saw some morons jumping off a bridge. One after the other, they all lined up like lemmings and jumped. The operators must have been rubbing their hands together with glee - they managed about one jumper per minute. At $165 a pop, someone’s making some nice pocket money. I suppose it might help cover the insurance. A few more wines and I may have been enticed to jump off myself, but then I’d only be doing it so I can say I’ve done it, not because I actually want to. If anyone seriously believes I’m a cooler person because I’ve jumped off a bridge, then I don’t want to know you anymore. I’m scared of heights.
I like wine tours. I’m not much into alcohol in excess because I find drinking quite boring. But it brings some meaning to drinking when you can babble absurd notions about the beverage tasting of lime with a hint of basil, and an aftertaste of Old Spice.

This place has it all. In Winter there’s skiing, in Summer- swimming and water sports, and the bungy/rafting/parachuting/etc in between. How the hell do you decide what to do? Do I want to get into a boat which travels at over 70km/h over a fast-flowing shallow and winding creek? Or do I perhaps want to run off the edge of a perfectly stable cliff with a parasail and a grown man strapped to my back? Might I like to strap a large piece of elastic around my ankles and leap head-first from a platform over a rocky precipice? There’s so many stupid things to do, and Tim seems hell-bent on encouraging me to try some of these death-enhancing activities. There is no such chance. We did do some other things, like walking around (safely, on flat ground), and eating meals from decent-looking establishments. I was also enticed onto the gondola ride (the McGondola from now on, although there is no fast-food connection). The McGondola rips all the way up a huge hill, which you can traverse by foot if you’re a blithering moron or training for some kind of iron man competition. It is steep in a way you won’t understand until you see it for yourself. We took pictures, but they do no justice to the steepness. It is a lovely ride, and as you progress up the hill and the views are spectacular. At the top there’s a luge (an old person one by the look of it, although you wouldn’t get me on it) a cafe, shop, etc. There’s also a ski type chair lift going further up the hill to the beginning of the luge course as well. People were parasailing off the cliff right nearby and landing in the field next door to our accommodation. I didn’t see that coming when I walked outside this morning. It was a nice surprise. And nice to know there is an alternative way home from the top of the hill if we like.
We have booked some activities for tomorrow, including horse riding and a wine tour. The wine is after the horses, which is probably best. I haven’t been on a horse for a good few years, so I am hoping it a placid beast that walks smoothly and doesn’t break into a canter without provocation. I may need the wine after the horse otherwise.
The prices here are not as high as I thought they would be. I guess it’s not quite peak tourist season yet. There is heaps of budget accommodation (if you like to stay in a hostel), and I suppose you could cook/prepare your own breakfast, lunch or even dinner if you were enthusiastic about the idea. Otherwise, you’re looking at between 120-150NZD for a night of sleeping on a nice bed in a nice place and around 20-30NZD for a decent feed. At present, fuel is around 1.62NZD. It’s when you want to partake in activities that the cost really comes into play. I guess comparing this with Southeast Asia is not the wisest of comparisons. We’re hardly eating stir-fried vegetables and rice for every meal, and we travel in our own vehicle. But it would definitely be possible to do it a lot cheaper, if you were willing to rough it a bit. Although not widely advertised (not to us, anyway), there are heaps of buses and even some trains running all over both the north and south islands so its not even difficult to get around. This kind of information is always harder to obtain back home. Oddly enough, internet access is a little scant here. We have access in our room, but your public type internet cafe is not a rarity, but definitely not every second or third store, like it is in Thailand. I guess since most hotels offer their own internet access it’s not required elsewhere.

After getting up shortly after going to bed, we drove the alleged four hours from Greymouth to Franz Josef Glacier. Today had a self-imposed French theme, which is apt, Franz Josef being such a Parisienne-sounding name. He was perhaps born in France to a German father and Austrian mother. Could have happened.
As we arrived in Franz, there was a lot of low cloud but when we checked into the guide area, everything seemed fine. It was, however, not fine when we went back a few hours later. It was actually cancelled due to the conditions. Apparently helicopters don’t go as well (or land safely) when they can’t see where they’re going. Clearly we’re not working with military radar here. So there’s not much you can do about it. The other major outfit offering similar tours had cancelled theirs also. There was a smaller private company flying, but not to the major glaciers, and if two of the biggest tourist providers have chosen not to fly, then I’m not really comfortable doing so.
In lieu of any helicopter landing on le glacier, I decided I would like to go on it and that no weather would stand between me and le glacier. So we drove into the hinterlands and came upon the track leading up to le glacier. It may have been slightly raining at this point. I put a beanie on. And off we went. It’s a 10-minute stroll from the carpark to the viewing point, which is another 800m-1km from le glacier. Of large rocks and rivers. We climbed over the fence, ignoring the ‘Don’t go in here’ signs, along with almost everyone else (probably the other vengeful souls who had their heli-hikes cancelled). We eventually reached the terminal face of le glacier. Occasionally large chunks of ice would cleave off and smash all about. It was pretty impressive. We went up and touched le glacier, took photos, etc. Some of the walking tours had clearly been out before us, and the guides had cut steps into le glacier. Unless they come configured like this nowadays, but I somehow doubt it. I went up a few steps and decided, without crampons, that my shoes were ill-equipped for such tasks. There is a rope to hang onto as you go up (and down), but it was exceedingly slippery, even in my boots which are designed to tackle the great outdoors. A fellow lunatic decided to have a go, and he was wearing runners. I got my camera ready for the inevitable winning funniest home video shot. So even thought we didn’t get dropped off higher on le glacier by a helicopter, we did get on it. And it was an instant saving of around $700. But that’s not really the point, is it?
Having no luck at FJ, we were a bit stuck for what to do next. Do we wait until the following day to try again with the risk of being cancelled again? Or do we just press on? It’s a bit of a dilemma - we didn’t want to waste a second day, or a third if no one was flying. So we chose to go on to Queenstown. We did stop off at the next glacier, Fox, but no one was flying there, and when I spoke to a few helicopter pilots (hello boys), they didn’t sound hopeful. Although they still managed to make it sound probable enough for me to be enticed to book a flight, we didn’t.
From Fox we just kept driving down the Western coast and then headed inland. The scenery is something to write home about. Around every corner is another snow-capped peak, then a very blue stream. We also passed Lake Likemycoconuts. It’s a wonder cars don’t crash into the creeks more as distraction is almost guaranteed. We arrived at Queenstown late in the evening. Due to the sheer volume of brochures available, I think there might be a lot to do here.

Today we fled the North island for the South. There’s a few ways to do this: plane, boat OR plane departure and skydive arrival. We went for the boat. A large boat, it was filled to capacity at around 1650 persons, comprising a mix of international tourists, school kids and locals. The journey from Wellington to Picton covers 92km or 52 nautical miles for the old salts, although the shortest distance between the two islands is only 19km. The boat was an absolute monstrosity, with 10 decks, a cinema, various restaurants, a bar, playground, etc, etc. We had breakfast on board, and then sat back for the sailing, which takes 3 hours (not sure why, something to do with speed and distance, I gather). The scenery is spectacular coming into Marlborough Sounds, flanked on both sides by gently rising cliffs and the odd salmon farm. And, mercifully, shielded from the wind.
We then took off in our 4WD (up-grade from rental car company, oh the joys…) towards Greymouth. It’s not as flighty as the Ford, but it does the job. The drive for the most part was quite stunning, similar to Scotland in scenery and weather and wildlife. Not as many campervans down here so we were able to keep fairly good time on the road. That and I wasn’t driving. I was the official photographer for this leg of the journey, and pictures will be available at lubrical in a bit. It should be clear which ones they are.
Our ice climbing/helicopter extravaganza is tomorrow morning on the glacier, a few hours drive further south. Should be interesting.
Greymouth is a small coastal town, mainly a stop-over for people heading to/from the glaciers. Tomorrow we’ll head off early, with the hopes of walking on ice later in the day.

It’s a little boring here. I think I prefer Auckland to Wellington. Or it might just be that we’re in a bit of a rush, so by the time you get to really enjoy a place, you’re long gone. A few driving rules differ slightly here - they’re still on the right turn before left, which was abolished in Victoria a good couple of decades ago. I guess they are trying to eliminate a big long queue of right-turning cars, but all it seems to do is cause confusion. Plus having all the left-turning cars stationery while the through traffic speeds past is a little scary. Clearly it works for the New Zealand population. They are also a little dare-devily here. They’ll have no hesitation in pulling out into 100km/h traffic at what I might call a very late moment in time. Not that anyone’s doing 100, its very much the land of 90kph.

Today after hunting around for a bit for breakfast, which was ordinary but probably the best place we could find, we decided to go into the botanical gardens. The weather was less than cooperative, threatening rain and storms, which luckily for us, never eventuated. The gardens are quite beautiful, and built on a very steep incline. They have this smash-bang rose garden, which was stunning. I imagine it would be even more so come December when it’s in full bloom. They also have a very nice cafe at the rose garden, which serves up some ace coffee.
From the gardens we moved on foot towards the governmental buildings where we took a tour of parliament house and the ‘Beehive’, which, from what I gather was designed for MP’s but now is mainly corporate apart from some function space still used for entertaining dignitaries, etc. It does look a little like a beehive, and its design was allegedly quite controversial around the time it was built (between 1969-1980). The rest of the tour led us through parliament house, which was exactly like I imagined (not that I have previously sat around imagining about New Zealand’s parliamentary buildings or anything), but it was nothing unexpected. The tour guide was a very well-informed lady (or a good actress) but I spent most of the time listening to her cool accent and trying to mimic her (in my head). New Zealander’s say ‘representatives’ weirdly.
After the tour, lunch time had passed without any lunch, so we dragged ourselves up the collection of steep hills to the cafe at the rose garden, where i had the apple and rhubarb crumble. Since my first breakfast was unsatisfactory, I thought I’d try again. The afternoon was finished off on the cable car, which goes downhill for about 400 metres, and then back up. It is also on an incredibly steep incline.
I’d have to say I liked the food and atmosphere better in Auckland. Plus, the shower in our apartment had a really high step to get in, and I kept hitting my foot on it and also nearly breaking my ankle when getting out (which is awfully embarrassing when naked). So, Auckland 1, Wellington 0, mainly based on the shower and food.
In other news, I have forgotten what day/date it is and have been wearing the same jeans for nearly a week.

Today we sat in the car for a very, very, very long time. After deciding we’d experienced the best Rotorua had to offer in breakfasts the day prior, we decided to eat at Taupo, about an hour south. It’s so pleasant on the roads early in the morning, particularly if you’re driving a rental car that you could drive your own car into the boot of. I hate automatics - where are you supposed to put your spare hand and foot? I don’t know what it is about new cars - I always feel as if I’m skating on the road rather than driving on it. I think it just takes a while to get used to.
They’re big on roadworks here, in fact, I’d go as far to say they adore roadworks. They even have a sign that endorses: ‘Road Works Today mean our Roads Work Tomorrow’.
Anyhow, the road from Taupo to the next town is a long one. Luckily it features some excellent alpine scenery, and a giant carrot. Pictures to follow (of carrot, and scenery).