New Zealand

South Island

A short flight through the Aussie night with a connecting hop and we arrive in Christchurch, New Zealand. We've made it to our furthest point from Blighty, but feels a bit like home here, the money has Queenie's mug shot on it, the place names have all been ripped off from England, it even rains like Devon!

We quickly take to the hills or in this case the Southern Alps. As we lake hop through the mountains we begin to realise this country is as beautiful as Lord of the Rings makes it out to be.

Lake Tekapo (or as Stu calls it 'Tiki poo') ringed by mountains, we climb Mount John to get a better view and Stu sets about destroying the scenic wilderness by building rock piles everywhere! All the excitement after lazy Oz proves too much for Stu.

Here we see New Zealand's most famous natives posing for the camera; not the Maori, the bugs! these ones weren't carnivorous so we were able to get this close up shot (risking life and limb). However, the Sandflies down south could suck a small child dry in minutes.

Still in exploration mode, our intrepid duo spot Mount Cook in the distance. After checking with the locals that we would die if we climbed to the top, we settle for a walk to the base of the Tasman glacier running down the side. The ice proves to be a bit gritty but then it is summer here.

Here we see us slumming it campervan stylie with pan seared monk fish and capsicum in reduced wine jus. Also recommended are the venison sausage, portabello and red onion burgers.

Despite the gourmet cuisine we are starting to hallucinate about the luxuries in life... electric kettles, inside loos and central heating.

Another day, another mountain to climb. Ben Lomand above Queenstown. Straight up to 1800m, clouds covered the summit until we arrived, then with precision timing they cleared to give perfect views down to the lake and town. Bugger was it cold up top.

Another sedate country pursuit, hurtling up and down river canyons in a big red jet boat, all very silly!

Now with a reputation to maintain Stu pops to the river and ten minutes later returns with tea. <http:time error#7 href: downloading "story of the one that got away" &nbsp</font></p>>

As if it's not cold enough, we head further south to Milford Sound, home of (reputedly) the best walk in the world and some pretty impressive rocks. A boat cruise down the fiord and we fail miserably to get our heads round the scale of the mountains. (The small white dot at the base of the cliff in the 3rd pic is a huge boat.)

Underwater things get even weirder, no breathing apparatus this time; just walked downstairs...

Having lost all sense of what day of the week it is, we suddenly realise its almost time to hop to the north island but we are 1000km away from our ferry. We jump in trusty campervan and via windy mountain passes too numerous and too steep to mention we head north.

Half way up the west coast we stumble across the Franz Josef glacier. Imagine if you can being the size of a flea and climbing the side of a chest freezer in desperate need of de-icing and you've still got no idea how big this thing is!

Equipped with crampons and ice axes we set forth and spend the next eight hours scaling vertical walls, squeezing through crevasses, banging our heads in ice caves and generally wishing global warming would get its act together.

will our dynamic duo escape from the the clutches of the ice... you guessed it!

Westport, Nelson, Picton, Wellington, Wanganui, Whakapapa (pronounced fa-ka-pa-pa, even the locals snigger when they say it :) The towns roll by and we seem to have made it to North Kiwi Land. Still not everything over here is strange, somethings remain the same to remind us of home...

...Rush hour traffic jams...

...the view from the office window...

...office politics...

...corporate lunch in poncy resturants...

...coming home to watch repeats on TV.

A couple of days in the capital Wellington and between bouts of retail therapy we do battle with the concrete along the water front. Handicapped with rolling things on our feet and nothing to protect us but flimsy padding, the concrete wipes our asses!

Now for today's science lesson: Volcanoes are caused by the earth eating too much traveler food, Watties (that's what Kiwi's call Heinz) baked beans, all that gas has nowhere to go, so pressure builds up until it erupts with spectacular results.

The Tongariro crossing passes between two active volcanoes. It's 8 hours over some very colourful and at times, very steaming ground. As we admire the view, you can't help but think how last time it really blew its top, it wiped out most of the north island and the effects could be see in Rome.

Everything seems to have a bubbling mud theme to it now; the middle of the North island is dominated by a bit of 'fin' crust, which is good for campers with the world's only underfloor heated tent sites. Here we see Stu encouraging a small kid (off camera) to put his hand in the hot steam.

It's got to be warm for Stu to get his kit off. The stream was coming out of the ground at 45°c - too hot to get right in.

With all this free time on our hands Stu decides to brush up on his swinging. Jules perfects her wrist action with a little casting but the hanging onto overhanging green cliffs still needs a lot of work...

The coast on the way up to Auckland is some of the best. Beautiful secluded beaches and a sunrise over the campsite. It's time to head for the city and our next stop, the Cook Islands. We just have time to see some sights, the view from the top of the sky tower is great and after some persuading we opt for the quick way down ;)

...After all this adventure its time for a holiday. Rarotonga here we come!