Great Expectations

11-18th February - Yasawa Islands, Fiji

A lap around NZ was amazing but was still pretty tiring. Well actually it wasn't, but it could have been in theory and I always welcome a lie down. What we needed therefore, was a week sized slice of white sands, blue skies and palm trees.

What we got was Fiji. In the rainy season. Our boat pitched and rolled its way across the stormy seas to the volcanic Yasawa islands but we got to our resort without getting too wet.

Otto and Fanny’s was traditional Fijian old school. There were only 2 other people there when we arrived and the grass roofed bure seemed deserted. This might have been perfect, if the sky hadn’t been picking up the ocean and dropping it onto our heads. Fortunately, the food was a delicious and sociable affair and helped us forget about the mosquitoes. And when the skies did clear, the isolated beach felt like it was a million miles from anywhere.

The second half of the week was spent on Manta Ray island, which although only a few islands down the chain, could not have been further away. The new resort had fantastic accommodation, more hammocks that you could shake a coconut at and pretty good food. There was also a fantastic weekly cava ceremony (local drink that looks like muddy water), exceptional snorkling and even trips to see Manta Rays (in season).But when it came down to it, it was a resort and it could have been Spain for all the people there and the vibe created.

The land at the end of the earth

10th February - Christchurch, South Island


We've reached the end of our 2000 mile race around the two islands and are currenly residing in jail in Christchurch. Quite cosy really, though I can't help thinking that you must get ex-cons coming to have a look at their former residence.

This morning was spent in a strange little farm in the hills outside Christchurch. The guide described it as quirky and mentioned its uplifting quotations chalked all over the walls. This all sounded a bit weak to me, but I have long since learnt not to pay too much attention to my preconceptions.

And rightly so. It was the cool, countryside retreat that everyone wants, with a massive shaded verrander, long comfy seats covered in animal skins and a host of books to read. These were accompanied by fine lattes and fresh blackcurrents the size of baby fists. The gardens surrounding it were plentiful and full of cats. I did the only thing I thought appropriate and spent the following couple of hours reading a book of uplifting quotations for, as our fat friend once said, 'It is a good thing for an uneducated man to read a book of quotations'.

But I don't think he meant this one.

Unfortunately we could not stay for ever and so prepared to leave. At this point, I found a book on contemporary tree houses, some of which were clearly the way forward. I shall endeavour to own a tree at some point and then get to work.

I'm gonna eat you little fishie...

3rd February - Doubtful Sound, South Island

'Come to New Zealand and see Milford Sound'. That is, I understand, what someone said to all of those nasty, flaky, coach tours that you see tearing up the countryside on a tight schedule. Therefore, it only seemed natural to make our way down to Doubtful, Milford's more remote and less travelled buddy. Even then, there is a danger of getting on a 70 person, Yangtze cruise style vessel. No thanks.

So we took an overnight cruise on a 6 person boat captained by Chris, who was a dude. And it was probably our best 24 hrs in the country.

The sound itself (named by Cook who considered it doubtful that, were they to sail in, there would be enough wind to bring them back out) is a true pleasure. The mountains on either side rise up over 1km almost straight from the water. It is also full of wildlife including dolphins, penguins and seals.

But the most impressive thing about the cruise was the pace. As you may have gathered, we are ideally suited to taking on life at the pace of an old person and this is exactly what we got. After dropping anchor in a secluded bay, Chris prepared for us a buffet lunch which consisted of breads, salads and a mountain of freshly caught crayfish. Munch on that.

After some more sitting down and being shown more amazing aspects of the sound, we stopped for a little 'fushing'. I have had a go at this game before as a scout, but to little avail. However, it appeared that this water was more fush than water and all of us had bites after 10s of seconds of our hooks reaching the bottom. No tiddlers either as the pictures show!

The fishing took a more serious turn when Tom, our German shipmate, caught an angry looking little shark. The man sweated about 7 litres just reeling him in. Once on the ship, Chris warned us that he would 'have your foot off'; information that had us climbing the walls to get away from the prehistoric brute.

Later, as we enjoyed a meal of blue cod and mind-blowingly tender venison, Chris recounted stories of catching enormous sharks and shooting deer. All in that funny accent that Kiwis have.

There's little left to say. It was both relaxing and fantastic fun all amid some stunning scenery. If you come to the South Island, this is one other thing that you must do. You can find more information at Deep Cove Charters.

Fly by wire

4th February - Queenstown, South Island

The idea is simple; get a plane, hang it from a massive length of wire in a narrow valley and use it as a petrol powered pendulum. Simple. This seemed like an opportunity too good to miss; picturing a real-time simulation of flying a WW2 German dive bomber, though without the bombs and the strafing, I headed for the hills.

Although the plane looks quite cool and goes pretty fast, it is clearly modelled on the air boat from the opening titles of Gentle Ben. You lie on top and they hoist it up one side of the valley by its tail. By the time it reaches the top, you are hanging upside down with a swollen head as all of your blood travels south. Then it's over to you; you release the plane using one handle, open the throttle with the other and you are off!

I should stress that it is even more fun than it sounds. As you get the feel of the beast, you swing higher and higher and gain more and more weightless hang time when you make each turn at the top. It is, as someone said, a roller coaster that you drive yourself.



Even so, it is perhaps not for everyone; one girl used too much energy screaming and not enough holding onto the throttle. As a consequence she spent a lot of time swinging down backwards and didn't get the killer speed that you need to get high. If you don't like driving or computer games, then maybe stick to Thorpe Park.


Have a look at the official website here

Waterworld

Queenstown: 3rd February

Although slightly lacking in charm, Queenstown is the adventure capital of New Zealand and therefore somewhere that is on most people's itinerary. Every possible activity is on offer and if you need some dutch courage, or want to celebrate being alive after a bungy jump or three, then there are also plenty of bars willing to take your cash. If you're an adrenaline junkie, with a thirst for beer, then this is the place for you.

We had a weekend to amuse ourselves in the town and on our first day were booked in for the 'Queenstown Combo' which included a half hour ride on a jet boat and an afternoon of white water rafting.

Feeling slightly apprehensive once again, we climbed onto the jet boat on the narrow Shotover river surrounded by canyon walls.After a brief introductory talk, basically telling us to hold on tight, particularly when the driver signalled that he was about to do a 360 degree turn, we sped off for the nearest canyon wall. The boat was fast, apparently the monster guzzles two gallons of petrol a minute.

Strangely enough, I found it fun to be driven straight at canyon walls, barely missing them and spun round in this jet.

After some time of this, the driver obviously decided we were enjoying ourselves too much, and wanted to inject some fear into us. He told us to keep in our seats at all times and not put our heads up. Apparently a Japanese couple were in New Zealand for their honeymoon and also took the jet boat ride. Unfortunately, the groom was too keen a photographer and decided to sit right up to get a shot just as the boat careered alongside a jutting canyon wall. According to the fable, his head landed on her lap. This slightly freaked me out but Ed reassured me that it was nonsense. However, from then on, whenever we came right up close to the canyons, I told Ed to duck. Safety first and all that.

Next up was white water rafting on the Kawarau river. This involved a few grade 3 rapids before the final infamous dog leg rapid of grade 4. It was pretty smooth at first but the first rapid took us by surprise. All being first timers, and mostly feeble girls, we just weren't prepared for the force, and just froze; it seems unnatural at first to paddle your way into a rapid but really is the only way to get out. Being at the front of the raft, I was also the lucky one to get hit in the face front on by these waves.

No one fell in however, and by the time we reached the biggest rapid we were all powering our way in and came out intact. The weekend we were there the Shotover river was closed for rafting, but now that we've tried the slightly tamer river, I'd definitely like to give some of the more adventurous rapids a go. Just as long as I'm not at the front again of course.

3, 2, 1... jump!

Fox Glacier: 2nd February

Having spent the previous day nearby in Franz Josef where we were treated with blue skies, I had a good feeling about the planned jump. It was going to happen. On opening our tent door the morning of the jump, and greeted with fine skies again, it just had to happen. Driving to Fox Glacier, where our jump was booked, neither of us were particularly nervous. I was far more nervous, and probably more excited, in Taupo but after waiting for so long, we were both just anxious that it would finally happen. Ed didn't even treat me to a whole load more of 'what-ifs' this time round. Apparently, you should be most concerned about the plane crashing, not the actual jump. Information I just don't need.



So, turning up in shorts and flip-flops and being promptly laughed at, we changed into warmer clothing and our jump suits. Here we met Rod and Mal, our tandem partners who we'd be strapped onto and typical Kiwi adventure sports guys. They might have looked like clowns but I didn't care, just as long as they knew how to operate the parachute and land. So off we headed into the skies in our shaky, small plane. Luckily, I was distracted somewhat by a camera being shoved into my face, and more impressively the views of Mount Cook and surrounding area. When Rod pointed out that we were only half way up, at 6,000 feet, I did wonder if it was really necessary to go any higher, it looked like a long way down already. But upwards we flew. I volunteered to go first and promptly found myself hanging outside the door being told to put my thumbs up for the camera and then off we went. To be honest, I don't really remember the jump as I had no choice at that moment. The next thing I knew however, was the force of the air hitting my face as we fell to the ground at great speeds.

The actual fall strangely doesn't feel unnatural; being at such a great height, you can't see the earth and you don't experience a sensation of plummeting to the ground. 45 seconds later, the parachute was open and the free fall over. Shortly after this, we looked up to see Ed and Mal hurtling down and then suddenly their chute also being opened which was a pretty impressive sight. A few moments later however, on looking down I saw his parachute way below us between my feet and his landing. I blame the pies. He did manage to take some videos on the way down though which is more to be said than me.

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The rest of the fall was serene as we drifted down enjoying the tranquil views over the glacier. Rod then asked if I liked roller coasters, which I do. He handed me a yellow cord and told me to pull on it hard which made us suddenly turn so that we were parallel with the sky line. Pretty scary but fun. He said it was to practise steering, but I'm sure it's just something they do to the tourists to make sure that they aren't feeling too relaxed. Shortly after, the ground heading nearer, I was told to lift my legs and we had landed. Awesome.

Return to Ice Mountain

29th January - Franz Josef glacier, South Island

You may recall that our journey to Ice Mountain in China was called off due to bad weather. Well this time it was to be different. 'New Zealand' is dutch for bad weather and so rain, sleet or tsunami, the Kiwis are never put off. Except cloud maybe.

Anyway this glacier was named after the flowing, snow capped beard of FJ, the Emperor of Austria back in the 1800s. It is a good natured brute, in that it has made its way down to ground level rather than sitting on the top of a mountain a la European glaciers. This means you can almost get a taxi onto the ice.

We took a half day tour, based on our lack of time and some advice from a girl in Australia of how 'you should only do a full day on the ice if you're super fit'. Some advice should be shoved back down the mouth from where it inadvertently spurted. If you go there, you need to do a full day to make decent inroads into the ice. That said, our trip was still fantastic, and our eccentric guide AJ (an ex pro rock climber) took us to some fine, deep crevasses as you can see in the pictures.

Our trip was slightly held up by some idiot going jogging on the ice in his shorts and Nikes and getting stuck. He was lucky, the usual outcome of such tomfoolery is icy death. As we came back down, we were granted a view of how fragile the glacier can be, as some truck sized pieces of ice fell into the stream at its foot.

Hopewell

Kenepuru Sound, South Island: 28th - 30th January

"A gorgeous backpackers lodge in a dreamy beachfront setting where even a couple of nights isn't enough to fully appreciate the relaxing setting and wonderfully welcoming hosts." (Rough Guide). With such an inviting review, we decided to head into the remotest region of the Marlborough Sounds and check this place out. Turned out to be the best decision we've made in a long time.

True to form, we were warmly welcomed with tea and home made brownies, a sure fire way to get into my good books. We were then shown around; people enjoying the sea views, hot tub, hammocks, golf course covered in sheep and collecting oysters from the beach. Generally a very chilled out place to be; Ed and I settled in well.

Having spent our first day enjoying the laid back vibe, we hired out a double kayak the next morning. The sun was shining, the water calm and everything was good. We even spotted the massive dark shadow of a skate. Unfortuantely, after a short peaceful paddle, we were promptly reminded that we were in fact in New Zealand, and not heaven. The dark, grey clouds had found us and enveloped the skies once more. We managed to find ourselves on the other side of the sound, battling against the wind, with our homely retreat looking a long way off. So we quickly checked out the local ship wreck and made a start back across the sound.

Shivering away and fighting against the waves, I declared that I just didn't find kayaking fun anymore. There was no time for tantrums though, we both wanted to get back and had no choice but to paddle on. We finally reached the shore cold and tired some four hours later, but very grateful to be back home. Hot shower, and a dip in the spa, and tranquility was resumed. After so much exertion, it only seemed right to regain the balance and once again succumb to the laziness of Hopewell.

Weather permitting

23rd January - Lake Taupo, North Island


Having finally put exams behind me some 2 years ago, I was rather displeased to experience that unpleasant sensation again, over here in NZ. The reason was of course our desire to take a big fall out of a small plane.

We drove into Taupo ('Skydiving capital of the world') as the sun was going down on a clear summer evening. We had our 'fush and chups', booked our jump for the next morning and went to bed to have bad dreams of slashed canopies.

However NZ, like Scotland in so many ways, has shite weather. When I awoke, looking forward to the day's activities as one looks forward to a mouthful of smashed teeth, dirty grey clouds stretched on in all directions and the jump was duly postponed. 4 times. So we prepared to wait.

And wait we did.

We were lucky in a small way; the previous evening we had shunned staying in someone's tool shed for an expensive room with a bed the size of a tennis court. And being restless but overidingly lazy people, we watched rubbish TV, read and dozed for the rest of the day.

The weather never did clear. After a day and a half of waiting, we left the 'Skydiving capital of the world' cursing our bad luck and vowing to take the next sunny opportunity to jump, wherever it may be.

We drove south to see Mount Doom instead, but that was also hidden by the bad weather. Damn you clouds!

Extreme sports!

22nd - 23rd January 2006: Rotorua, North Island

Rotorua is a popular tourist destination due to it's geothermal activities and lake. Our reason for heading straight there however was to try out the infamous Kiwi-originated past time of zorbing. This basically involves rolling down a hill in a pvc sphere. It's that simple and stupid; only the kiwis could have thought up something like it. The original zorb has you strapped up inside the sphere but unfortunately, due to unfavourable weather conditions, something we'd become used to hearing, this option was unavailable. We could however try out hydro zorbing. In this case you are in the sphere strapless and more than one person can go down in the same sphere at the same time. And as the name suggests, they also throw in a load of water for good measure just to ensure that you can't treat it like a giant hamster wheel and try to run your way down the hill. As soon as you start moving you fall flat on your backside.

It will probably come as no great surprise to you all, but I'm a bit of a scaredy cat and was pretty apprehensive at the thought of being thrown around this sphere, especially now with the added prospect of my face meeting Ed's elbow. However, as soon as we started rolling down, sliding about the place, I was sent into a fit of giggles. Zorbing is just plain silly. Luckily neither of us experienced a misplaced elbow or foot in the mouth either which helped. So, the next time you're in the area then definitely give it a go; they also do it in Dorset so there's no excuse...


As mentioned, Rotorua is famous for it's geothermal activity. The country is located on the so called 'ring of fire' where the earth is in a constant state of upheaval. This is most evident in Rotorua, being on New Zealand's volcanic plateau where geothermal activity is pronounced. So, on our second day, we decided to take it easy and join the rest of the tourists by visiting Hell's Gate, apparently the most active geothermal field in the region. Firstly we had a walk round the area where we saw steaming fumaroles, erupting mud volcanoes (pictured) and cooking pools. The place was hot. And smelly.

We then 'treated' ourselves to a mud bath. According to the brochure, the mud promotes the regeneration of skin cells, detoxifies and purifies and assists in the prevention and elimination of acne. Not sure if any of that is true and I don't think either of us noticed a difference in our skin but I found it surprisingly enjoyable wallowing in the warm murky water. Unfortunately, we were then forced under cold showers (to close our pores, or so they said, kiwis just seem to enjoy pain) before indulging in a hot sulphur bath. So, all in all, a pleasant day. Just a shame that we smelt of eggs for a good few days afterwards. Not recommended as part of a pre-first date beauty regime, that's for sure.