As mentioned, Jeannette and I embarked on our adventure first stopping in Queenstown, the quintessential summer stop for tourists, adrenaline and partying! Due to my lost wallet issue, I was on a strict budget that prevented me from capitalizing on one of my "Top 30 before I turn 30" goals: SKYDIVING! But alas, I have a few more months to make it happen here. After encountering some rowdy Irish folk in Queenstown, we headed off to Wanaka, a local lake resort town where allegedly some of the All Blacks (NZ rugby world champions) have recently purchased homes. It kind of has a SantaFe-esque vacation feel, but is still low key. We relaxed with ice cream, beach picnics and soaking in the sun next to the gorgeous lake with a mountain view and glacial water temperatures. We even took in a little paddle boating and Indian food. I think it was in Wanaka that I finally started to feel in full "holiday backpacker mode." We also worked on setting the pace and planning the remainder of our adventures. Fortunately, Jeannette had already taken care of the big planning items such as planes, trains and automobiles, but we then had to map out a route over more short whites of course. With some reservations made and with a very lucky ride to make our bus, we decided to head directly to Mt. Cook, the highest point in New Zealand. We were enthusiastic about this more isolated, serene setting. We checked into the visitor center for info. on renting gear and trail maps upon arrival.
We discovered we had that afternoon to complete the Mueller Trail we had picked out due to temperamental forecast for the next day. So we (foolishly) gathered ourselves and started out on a 5 hour hike that afternoon. About one hour in we realized that though short, the 1800 meter ascent was more than we bargained for. Jeannette and I are not novice hikers, but agreed that this was the most challenging thing that either of us had attempted since accomplishing Machu Picchu and Torres del Paine in South America. I cursed myself yet again for not having an ankle brace, but there was no turning back! Especially since our only booked accommodations for the evening were at the top of that point- at the Mueller Hut. So we trekked on, slowly, beyond rock scrambles and gale force winds to our destination. By the grace of God we managed to arrive about twenty minutes before sun down. Our sweaty, sun burnt, trembling legs now found themselves on snow in our path. Needless to say, our bodies ached as we climbed into our sleeping bag and were serenaded to sleep by 120kph wind noise in the hut we shared with 12 or so other trampers. We rose after the others and found ourselves to be the only humans on the trail the next morning as we descended- cursing every stair and unstable boulder. Survival!! We, of course, rewarded ourselves with pricey cafe food, coffee and chocolate at the end. We just missed the snow in Mt. Cook and Queenstown, unseasonable for this time of year. So I was fast asleep that night in my cozy YHA hostel by 7pm. The next day, still sore and humbled by the trek, we boarded another InterCity bus to Christchurch.
I wasn't sure what to expect from Christchurch, which was devastated by massive quakes in the last year. What used to be the largest city on the South Island is still in a state of healing and recovery. I could go on and on about the comparison of what seems to be highly productive NZ government rebuilding efforts vs. the efforts of say the US gov. disaster response circa 2005, but I will keep it light. J and I stayed at the Jailhouse Hostel, which is - you guessed it- an old historic jailhouse converted into a hostel. Clever buggers! We spent the first night people watching the locals at a pub over fish n' chips and a well earned beer or two. The following day I managed to track down my wallet finally. No thanks to the NZ courier post, it took over a week for me to recover it, but again keeping it light and not hateful. Anyway, we spent Saturday exploring the city, including the completely blocked off and abandoned CBD AKA the Red Zone. The buildings that are still standing are broken, tilting and abandoned. However, a lift of morale and spending for the city has been created in the ever creative container mall. They have reopened shops and cafes from the area and built them in old train cargo containers. It is literally the world's first pop- up mall. Brilliant for the Re: Start Christchurch. I could go on an entire post about Christchurch rebuilding efforts, but you can also google it or click here http://www.flickr.com/photos/jjprojects/6336633624/ for images. My photos are posted on Facebook. Additionally, there was a Buskers Festival going on that weekend so Jeannette and I sat amidst the comedy on a nice summer's eve. The return of this world fest seemed to be a huge morale boost for the city as well. And wouldn't you know that the stars aligned for Jeannette and I as we found ourselves sitting right behind a group of local Christchurch girls about our age and some Chilenos- JACKPOT! Before we knew it we had finished our wine and were heading to The Brewery (local bar) with our new friends. We cracked some woodies (opened some Woodstock brand bourbon and coke in a can)-and carried on into the evening.
The next morning came too soon. We had a lovely 7am ride to the train station to cross the Southern Alps going from the east coast to the west coast that day. A very scenic ride indeed, that I slept through most of :). We finally arrived in Nelson that evening, tired, but eager to plan our escape into Abel Tasman National Park.
More on that, the Sevens Rugby Tournament and WWOOF'ing!
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