Motueka to Lake Tekapo, and Aoraki/Mount Cook

I have a yearning to see Mount Cook/ Aoraki a bit closer this time so I make a long day's drive down most of the length of the island and stop off at Lake Tekapo for the night.

On the way to Mount Cook in the morning I stop at the visitor centre at the beautiful glacial green Lake Pukaki.

Mount Cook from Lake Pukaki

Driving up the road to Mount Cook is very reminsicent of Scotland, albeit on a slightly bigger scale. The drive is made all the more exciting by my bank. Yet again, despite informing them where and when I'd be for the next 3 months they have put a stop on my card to prevent fraud. This made the purchase of petrol impossible, and because of the time difference I won't be able to speak to them for about 10 hours. Phone credit on my mobile has also run out and I can't use my card to top it up. I only have 115 dollars in cash. It's also now Saturday so I can't get Mandy to put some cash in my Aussie bank account, and I can't speak to her anyway because my mobile has run out.

I am now very much in the middle of nowhere with maybe enough money to get me back to somewhere. The sensible decision would have been to just try and get back to Christchurch and wait till I can speak to them, but then I won't have enough time to get back to Mount Cook, and, much as I like Christchurch I don't want to spend my last 3 days there if I can.

So, maybe rather stupidly, I head further into the wilderness. But I've got the 'Iceman' to sleep in and food and water, so it's worth the risk.

The risk is worth it to see the glacial lake at the bottom of the Tasman valley. Again, it's hardly pretty but still quite humbling, as the vastness of the gouge in the land testifies to.









From here on it's back to Christchurch which I manage on the last fumes of the petrol tank. vThe bank are chastised and I settle in for a relaxing couple of days in a full size bed before heading back to Australia on Monday afternoon.

New Zealand is ace!

Kaikoura to Motueka

Although I want to spend more time in the Southern Alps I want to see the north end of the south island before I go back to Oz so I drive up to Nelson. It's a nice little city but just too busy for me and I drive on to Motueka further north.

Franz Josef Glacier

Since we have been mainly driving for the past couple of days it's time to take in some of the local scenery.

The Franz Josef Glacier is one of the fastest moving in the world and we opt to take a guided hike up it. The company kits us out with crampons, boots, socks and gore-tex jackets, so even though it's quite cold and wet, we should be pretty cosy.

After a flat hike to the river bed we get a first glimpse of the rubble strewn end of the glacier. It looks a bit like walking into Helm's Deep. It's not exactly pretty but still quite awe inspiring at the same time.

We then put on our crampons and start hiking up the glacier itself.
We make regular stops and our excellent Maori guide gives some info about the scale, age and history of the glacier. I almost score some points with mentioning that it was named after the uncle of Archduke Franz Ferdinand whose death was responsible for World War I, but my smart arse comments fall mostly on deaf ears as the rest of our party only know the band.

Mandy is triumphant however as she remembers the Maori legend of how the glacier came into being.

From here we hike up through ice tunnels whilst the guides hack out steps with their ice picks. And we pause again to get a view of the surroundings and take some lunch.

The interpid Howie/Todd exploration of 2008 continues.

Our guides find a little ice tunnel and decide to see if they can squeeze through it. Our maori guide makes it and then asks if anyone wants to try it. Emboldened by adrenalin or maybe brain freeze I step up. After all it's only about six feet long and he was quite a bit bigger than me, so I reckon I'll get my beer gut throught it no problems.

Witness the intrepid exploits.

A few more crevaces and descents later, we return to Franz Josef village for some well-earned nosh and booze. Thoroughly knackered.

Hanmer Springs to Franz Josef

From Hanmer Springs we make our way to the Franz Josef Glacier via the not-so-pretty town of Greymouth, and the prettier town of Hokitika, famous for its wild food festival which we've missed by about 3 months, but here's a poster which gives you an idea of what it's about.
The roads here are punctuated with lots of one lane bridges which could cause hassle if there was anyone else driving here. However to solve any problems with boredom some of them you have to share with trains! Which is quite an unnerving experience.

The scenery changes again to lush rainforested peaks and placid lakes, King Kong country.

This is the Iceman in Franz Josef village, and Mandy for scale.

Sydney to Christchurch

An 8.30am flight to Christchurch saw us leaving Mona Vale at about 5.oo in the morning. This wasn't such a bad thing as it meant getting a snooze on the 3 hour flight.

Flying over New Zealand I was tantalised by glimpses of the Southern Alps poking up through the clouds. We landed and headed for the Camper Van rental station via an expensive, but necessary, shuttle bus driven by one of the wrinkliest blokes I've ever seen.

Now, Mandy had warned me that New Zealand is renowned for its eccentrics, which, considering its location, size and lack of population, is no great surprise, but I was still surprised when the bus driver's wife accosted me whilst unloading our gear. 'Excuse me, hello, erm, were you at the prophecies?', she said. This is a question which I would find hard to fend at the best of times, but even more so on arrival in a new country. 'Sorry?', I replied. 'I'm sure I saw you at the prophecies.', she asserted.

So at this point I'm thinking, is the 'prophecies' some kind of hippy, techno gathering; a club of some sort; or is she a genuine god-bothering loony who has mistaken me for a witness of Moses return from the burning bush. So, being as diplomatic as ever, I say 'Sorry, I just got off the plane. I have no idea what you are talking about.', and thankfully she leaves it at that.

Welcome to New Zealand, this is gonna be fun.

Anyhoo, we pick up our lowered, darkened windowed, gold badged camper van, called the 'Iceman' and head into Christchurch for the night.