Drunken wide smiles NYE

Six months, 483,000 units of alcohol, 300 gallons of coffee, 76 Starbucks muffins, 23 litres of ice cream, seven flights, four Australian states, three different countries, two camper vans, one Ford Focus and we are done.  I’ve thought for days about how I should finish what has become somewhat of a novel and to be honest I’m starting this without a clue what to really say.  We have laughed, we have cried, we have had times where we have simply wanted to give up and come home, we’ve also had time where we have wanted things to continue for longer.  Truth be told I did some sums as far back as Perth and worked out that at our rate of spending we’d be home by October.  So when October came round and we made it to Sydney, we looked at our bank account and £50 told us that fate amongst other things would decide whether or not we would do the whole six months and our prayers were answered after only three days when Martel was offered a job.  I call it fate, Martel calls it being very good at lots of jobs and easily employable.  Looking back in the beginning we did struggle, not with the money that was passing through our hands quicker than gambler on pay day.  At times either one of us had a day when we just wanted to give up and go home, you can be tired, the weather can be shit and your fed up with living an almost tramp like existence with people who choose to live like pigs when you’d prefer not too but you have no choice, you can’t afford a hotel and eating out would mean breaking your $20 a day budget.  In the grand scale of things that’s nothing to what some people endure but at times like that it feels like you’re the only person in the world who has a problem and the answer to yours would be to change your ticket and go home early.  We both considered going home a failure so to be honest it was the last thing we’d do and I’m bloody glad. 

So many sun sets

We have done so many cool things, and met so many cool people it’s simply impossible to pick one memory that stands out.  Your brain can only really think back a week or two so sitting here now it feels like we’re going home after only a few weeks away, then we look back at the pictures and recall all the stuff we’ve done and realise just how lucky we were.  This kind of trip is like a fairytale, you spend and earn funny money that doesn’t get eaten up by all the bills,  you socialise with people who you have only know a few hours and you do things everyday that if you’re lucky you do once a week back home.  What started out as alien suddenly becomes normal, so going back home to what was normal makes us a little nervous; will my brain still work when I walk back into work Monday morning, will I still know how to drive a manual gearbox, what does wine taste like out of a bottle and not a cardboard box, will we ever eat something again that comes from a free food shelf, and will my mum still recognise me now I have a beard and dreadlocks?!  We have mixed emotions about going home but what we’ve done is an achievement and something not everyone is lucky enough to do in their life and in that respect we go home with a big smile on our face and an empty bank account.  We hope you’ve enjoyed reading this but for now its thanks and good night. x

Top Deck NYE

The days proceeding new years we only really talked and thought about two things; New Years Eve and New Years Day.  New Years eve was one of the main reasons we came to Australia, after seeing the fireworks on TV we had always talked about seeing them for ourselves and this year was to be our chance.  New Years day we had been talked into going to a dance festival called ‘field day’ by our adopted family.  It seemed like a good idea at the time of booking but in hindsight possibly a little hasty as the day started at 11am. 

New Year’s lived up to everything we had dreamed of.  The Boat was decorated with enough helium balloons for us all to do our own rendition of ‘night fever’ by the Bee Gees and there was enough food and drink on board to cater for all of the boats on the water that evening.  It was faultless in every way, the bottom on my glass never went dry, and by the end of the evening I was turning down platefuls of oysters, sushi and smoked salmon – I know even I had to pinch myself. 

Our Spot for the fireworks

We watched the fireworks in a way which we will never forget and it lived up to every bit of the way we’d dreamed it.  I stood on the top deck, glass of champagne in hand, the opera house to my left lit up like a Christmas tree and the harbour bridge just in front of me.  The thought of fighting my way through the thousands and thousands of people all squeezed in, wrestling to get their own little piece of priceless real estate only confirmed to us that our money was well spent. The only way in which we could have bettered that was to have our friends and family with us. 

Late in the evening and enjoying a dance off

New Years day despite our initial reservation was good fun.  Ok – the thought of alcohol at 11am wasn’t to appealing, especially when my mouth was dryer than a camels sphincter but luckily for us our adopted family didn’t want to meet until 1.30.  We eventually arrived just after 2 as the Bondi crew where running a little late due to unforeseen circumstances….less said the better.  They finally turned up not after one of the group,  a Mexican lad who will remain nameless was arrested, fingered and taken to the local cop shop after a sniffer dog didn’t like the scent his tightly nipped arsehole was exuding.  The dog was right, it was an illegal substance but what it was remains a mystery as word of antihistamine was circulated due to its lack of pungency.  The said Mexican later appeared, tail between his legs telling stories of having his details taken along with his picture, in hindsight his choice of clothing for the day was a little ironic – an orange t-shirt with Guantanamo bay jail written on the front and back!!   It was quite clear that some revellers had got hold of the good stuff as certain groups of lads appeared to be entering into some sort of gurning competition.  Alcohol is more than enough for me, in fact you could argue I shouldn’t be allowed that and the organisers of ‘Field Day’ did their upmost to prevent me from having it charging $10 for a tiny can of lager.  Where there is a will there is a way and a short walk from the festival was a bottle shop selling beer and wine at a sensible price. 
Myself and three others bought in abundance to ensure our dancing legs were fuelled right until the end. 

Few drinks out of a brown paper bag on the streets - lovely

It did however mean we had to sit outside the gates and drink every last drop complete with brown paper bag just like a tramp…how did my life come to this?!  The night finished on a massive high (no pun intended) with 2many Dj’s topping the bill.  Some of the most random mixes of music I have ever experienced, Vivaldi, Dizzy Rascal, Nirvana, they were all in there and all met with a the same frantic bounce by the thousands surrounding the main stage.

What’s next?  Not a lot, two more days and then home but these last few days have to be stored in the now bursting at the seams memory bank of ‘Pretty damn awesome’.

Christmas day morning having a champagne breakfast

We haven’t been online to update for a while and in the last eight days we have had less sleep and more alcohol than the last month!  We always knew that our festive period was going to be different but just how different was a mystery.  After a bumpy three hours with Emirates we arrived back in Sydney safely.  The weather was incredibly windy and as for feeling festive, well it was about as Christmassy as Basra.  Luckily for us our home for the next few nights was the residence of a colleague of Martels from her brief stint of work at John Holland.  We had a Christmas tree, a tv, the use of a reliable free internet connection, a comfy bed and more importantly a bath!  Within an hour the taps where on and I was lowering myself into a bath which was teetering on the edge of boiling.  Something I later regretted as I was as dizzy as a tramp on Crystal Meth.  Christmas morning was peculiar, we both woke with the similar excited feeling but that feeling lasted the whole four minutes it took us to open our three cards.  After gobbling down breakfast we headed for the train station and onto the tube for the short trip to Bondi Beach where we would spend our Christmas Day.  We were meeting our adopted family who had the usual open house going on with more prawns than a fishmongers and more alcohol than George Best’s drinks cabinet.  Donning our $5.00 santa hats it was obvious how the day was to progress when we were handed a glass of champagne before 11am.  As a vast majority of the house and surrounding houses are occupied by Chileans Xmas Eve was celebrated in true local tradition with Christmas Eve being the main focus of the party.  The aroma of cheap wine and stale beer coupled with the dark eyes and pungent breath suggested it was quite a night. Most people in the house were drunk at the mere sniff of alcohol and by late lunch the suggestion of a festive dip in the sea was met with the sort of excitement you wouldn’t expect given the weather wasn’t exactly true Australian summer. 

The cactus and I, all before lunch

Never the less we all marched down to the beach, I carried the esky of beer, a wobbly affair but I made it,  Martel carried the food and a tipsy smile and our friend Adam carried a 6ft inflatable cactus given as a secret santa gift – of course!  As we all braced the cold bondi sea I did think to myself that alcohol and powerful sea rips don’t really mix well but the Bondi rescue lifeguards re assured us with a shout of “be careful in the sea, especially if you’re pissed” and then proceeded to laugh at us as we all splashed about like children .  It wasn’t until after my third Hasselhoff type sprint and dive that I realised just how many people were pissed in the sea, it was the soaking wet santa hats that gave the drunks away, the same santa hat that now covered my eyes in a blindfold style after a wave completely submersed me.  Martel was sensible enough to stay only waste deep, but not sensible enough to remove her santa hat.  There must have been around 50 drunk santa’s surrounding us and several more up the beach, if a shark had bothered to take a bite at any of us the amount of alcohol in the blood would of probably offended there palette. 

Cheek to Cheek

We headed back to the flat after about an hour and the party continued until the early hours, it all became a little too much for some as they passed out on the couch and this paved way to the usual comedy pictures.  Whilst it wasn’t a Christmas day in the traditional form we enjoyed the experience of being in Australia and being on the beach, have to say though, think I prefer the turkey to the Barbie thankfully we did a proper English dinner with the adopted family the day after Boxing day….oh gravy!!

Christmas dinner with the adopted familia

Game of Glacier hide and seek?

The Glacier walk was bloody marvellous, so bizarre to be standing on a great big lump of snow and ice in alpine surroundings, something you don’t get to see every day of your life.  The Bungy, it was serious fill your pants material and bloody expensive but we’re both glad we did it and the DVD is hilarious.  But the one thing that will stay with me for some time is the simply amazing views.  I was sat in the back of the camper one evening; we were watching the latest Transformers Movie on my laptop. 

It is real, taken on my camera

As I glanced to my left I just caught sight of Mount Cook through the front window at dusk, it was real Discovery Channel stuff.  We hoped off the bed, climbed onto the roof and we watched the sun go down on a snowy peaked mountain, you just can’t put a price on those sorts of views.  We leave NZ with a smile on our faces but we both said today, its more goodbye’s now instead of more hello’s and the end is very close.  Packing today was like a dress rehearsal for what will be a final flight in just over a week – I hope we shed some gear as all our bags are at bursting point!

What’s next? We are back to Sydney where we are house sitting for someone who Martel worked with as she is on her Christmas Hols, It pays to be nice to people, I got a pat on the back and bottle of wine from the people I worked with!  The house sitting does mean a bath, free wireless, a bed, a sofa, a kitchen without hundreds of the great unwashed and bizarrely a Christmas tree and Christmas piff on TV!  We couldn’t feel any further from festive right now if we tried!   Aside from that it will be a hectic eight days as we party like its 1999 and dance like no one is watching, probably on Bondi beach most days until the sun goes down.  So whilst your opening your presents on Christmas day, spare a thought for us as we don’t have any!  But we don’t want your pity as we will be on Bondi beach sporting board shorts, Bikini’s and santa hats with a cold Tooheys in hand. 

I thought I was indestructable for those few hours

Merry Christmas one and all and I hope Santa brings you what you wished for, I asked for an action man, an Xbox and a new Mountain bike after re discovering my youth on half day Mountain Biking round the hills of Hamner Spring’s – the note was still under my pillow this morning, Damit.

My favourite view from Lake Pukaki

Since the white water rafting things have slowed down a bit, they had too as you can’t maintain these type of activities unless you have a money tree to pick from.  So for our last day in Queenstown we had a wander round the town and sampled some of the sumptuous watering holes on offer.  The sun was shining, the beer was cold and all of the things that irk you about travelling were forgotten.  I’ll never complain about travelling but it does come with its down sides.  In between doing the plethora of activities on offer you can sink into a state of homesickness.  Whilst you up a mountain, or climbing a glacier taking in the fantastic views you forget your a million miles from home and all your creature comforts but when your cramped in the back of your van, its relentlessly pissing down with rain and on the 9^th attempt you finally get an internet connection, you look at your spiralling bank account and think, never under estimate a salary, a stable income and a little normality in your life, something I never thought I’d say. To add to this you quite often look and feel like a tramp and whilst some people enjoy that, we both despise it.  I haven’t had a bath for five months and soaking for at least an hour is high on my list of things to do when I’m home.  You miss certain foods, Aussie and in particular NZ grub is good but I miss a good sausage – no pun intended.  Gravy, ohhh what I’d do for a good gravy roast dinner, they are like rocking horse shit over here.  If you enquire about a Yorkshire pudding people look at you like you have crapped in their shoe, “yes love, it’s a batter like the one you make a pancake with but savoury and served with roasted meat” table for two 6^th of January at your mum’s dining table, yes please.

View of Mount Cook

I’m sure there is a hundred people out there that would swap with us to do what we are doing and your right, I’m not complaining but in all honesty, I have had a fantastic time living out something I have dreamed about doing for the last 10 years but I’m just about ready to come home.  New Zealand is a fantastic beautiful country as is Australia.  Sydney is one of the very few cities in the world where I could easily live, in a strange way when we fly back there on Christmas Eve for the last week of our travels part of me will feel like I am going home to a place I know but I need a wardrobe, an iron, a bed that is mine and I don’t have to put together every day, my family, my friends, using my own kitchen without a German cooking his beetroot or cabbage, a game of footy…I could go on.   

Each resort you stop at offers a similar type of activities, certain places do unique trips but most places offer the same type of thing and we have pretty much done them all. This does mean that we are running out of new things to do, which aint a bad thing as we are almost out of money, thankfully Marls is great at planning and budget management and without her we’d of probably been home in November after I blew all our budget on a bender in Sydney. 

The mighty Mount Cook which has claimed 200 lives

With this in mind you look to do the things that don’t cost a cent and fortunately in a place like NZ Some of the best things are free, visiting Mount Cook and Mt Cook village was one of them.  Two hours in Hovis from Queenstown and straight away the scenery becomes much more dramatic.  The mountains are capped in pearly white snow and everything is a damn site bigger.  Mt Cook stands at just under 3755 metres and is the biggest mountain in Australasia, it is huge.  The first people to climb the beast where three local guys spurred into action after failed attempts by Europeans.  They reached the summit on Christmas day 1884 and since then over 200 people have died trying to climb it, the last being an experienced guide in 2008.  We had no intentions of being 201 and 202 so were quite happy to view it from the bottom.  It’s an amazing site and puts all the other mountains you have seen in perspective. We had  our caffine injection in the Sir Edmund Hillary exhibition centre, Ed used the mountain as a training camp and warm up for his Everest climb, and then it was back to our campsite just down the road.  The views where amazing from our campsite and watching the sun set on Mt Cook was awesome.  Stuff paying to go on a boat in a hope to see some big fish splashing around, this was far better and free! 

Two weeks to go and as I’m writing this from the back of my van in a place called Kaikoura, the cold wet weather has just began to set in after three days of sunshine.  Another day here tomorrow then back to Christchurch where we will stay until we leave NZ.  Christmas will be spent with our surrogate friends in Bondi Christmas day being a champagne brunch then BBQ on the beach.  Boxing day will probably be much of the same, beach, booze then bed.  We have booked a six hour boat trip under the Harbour Bridge partying in the New Year and watching the stunning firework display.  All the Wine, Champers, Beers, spirits and food chucked into the price, can’t wait.  New Year’s Day will no doubt start with the mother of all hangovers but we won’t have time to be ill as we are off to a Glastonbury type festival (without the mud) in the Botanical Gardens overlooking the Opera house and Harbour bridge which will no doubt offer more booze.   We are both really looking forward to what will be a very different festive period so who am I kidding, this is great, quit moaning you big girl!!

If only it was like this

After having a crazy few days of doing what is typical NZ activites ie Glacier climbs, Bungy jumps we thought we’d continue the white knuckle theme with some White Water rafting. My hydrophobia meant that I was actually more afraid of this than jumping off a bridge but you should do something that scares you everyday and rather than opt for the more sedate Kawarau river I insisted on tackling the Shotover river.  The rivers rapids are given a level of difficulty rating 1 being something as dangerous as a bath and 5 being close to something you’d see Bear Grylls tackle with a bamboo boat and piece of fishing wire. Shotover river had rapids rated at 4/5 and in my own little mind I fancy myself as a bit of Bear Grylls so figured go for the stupidly difficult and dangerous one.  I did question if my act of bravado was a wise one when the lady booking our tour upon hearing my decision stopped and said, “you are a good swimmer right?” Even Martel wasn’t keen and looked at me and said, “you sure?” but as always I opted for my tried and trusted method of, say yes to something and then worry about it afterwards.

The day started with an 8am pick up and I was cranky until I imbibed large quantities of coffee, not good on an empty stomach as I was now shaking like Dean Martin on a dry day and talking shit to complete strangers on the bus ride to the river. If the bus ride was an indication of how dangerous the day was about to be I was happy to take the offer of my money back as our driver; a young lad who wouldn’t look out of place in Busted or Linkin Park, took us up a mountain and round tracks that had gigantic signs clearly saying, “buses are forbidden from taking this road”.  Calling it a road was like saying Ian Huntley was great with kids as it was more of a dusty gravel track just wide enough for the bus to pass through with 150ft drops to certain death on both sides.  I won’t lie, at times I closed my eyes and hoped for a painless demise.  As if all this wasn’t dangerous enough we were pulling 5 20ft inflatable boats, absurd, you’d never be allowed to do this in the uptight UK.

On arriving at our starting point yet again you were in awe of the sheer beauty that surrounded you, like most rivers that flow through the various valleys this fast flowing river was fuelled by glacier water making it crystal clear and bright blue due to the mineral content.  If our existence on this planet was going to be snuffed out, what a place to go.  We were kitted out in our 5mil thick wet suites which when on looked more like a gimp suite, a crash hat, splash jacket and life jacket all adding to notion that this was one dangerously stupid river.  My wet suit was so tight round my unmentionables that the wedgy I had going was in danger of slicing me in half like a cheese cutter on the deli counter at Tesco.  It also meant that if whilst attempting to wrestle the boat through a rapid I was overcome with nerves and sharted myself the resulting jet would be similar to that experienced when you put your finger over the hole of a running tap.

We were given a safety briefing on what to do and what not to do which you immediately forgot upon entering the boat and off you went.  Our guide was a Brazilian chap who when attempting to converse in English reminded me of Sacha Baran-Cohen’s latest character Bruno.  He would often use the wrong words in the wrong place giving a totally different meaning to what he was trying to tell you, not good when your relying on him in an emergency.  Our boats crew consisted of Mario the adrenalin junky Brazlian who insisted on screaming and shouting “yeah, woooo” with every splash of water, an Australian father and daughter who’s co-ordination made the chuckle brothers look like ballroom dancers, two female American graduates who looked more frightened than me, Martel and Bear Grylls – oh that’s me!

After all the worry, all the promise of near death experiences, the obligatory signing of a disclaimer relinquishing the company of all liability in the result of an accident, it was all quite tame.  The good weather had dried out the river and a shallow river equates to a relatively smooth ride.  I say relatively as we did accidently hit one rapid backwards and at one point there should a been a cry of “bundle!!” as we all inadvertently piled into the middle of the boat.  As for accidents they only manifested themselves, as expected with our two American graduates.  The first happening during ‘the bundle’ as a head butt into the back of Martels crash hat, something Martel never felt, left one of the poorAmercian lass’s counting her front teeth.  The second happened when our guide shouted “hold something, go down on it” (what he meant was ‘hold on, get down’, shouted in order to prevent you from falling out whilst tackling a grade 4 rapid) something the second American took a little too literally as she smashed her nose on a vacant wooden paddle in front of her.  This blooded her nose but she had such a protruding proboscis you barely noticed the difference.  My heart rate did race a couple of times but that could have been down to my wet suite almost drawing blood, I’m not sure.  I felt a little cheated as we reached the end having only incurred a few minor flesh wounds and a new butt crack, in future check the weather forecast and if you want to experience real danger, go when it’s rained for 2 days and the levy’s are at bursting point, for now I’m happy to still be alive despite my early reservations and continuing my adventure across NZ.

Mirror lakes - where everything looks like it does in a mirror

Yesterday saw us drive a further 2 ½ hour from our campsite in Te-Anau to a place called Milford Sound. It is one of the biggest tourist attractions in NZ with about half a million visitors a year – a lot of them come to walk (or Tramp as they call it over here) the famous milford track which takes four days to complete! As the guide books warn trampers to pack serious amounts of wet weather gear and wear appropriate foot wear- we thought we would give the walk a miss and we booked ourselves onto a relaxing Milford Sound Cruise!

The cruise provided some breath taking scenery but I can’t help thinking that we spoilt it a bit for ourselves by travelling through the Marlborough Sound on the ferry from the North Island to the South Island.  The views were identical showing us rocky cliffs rising from the dark still waters, the forests clinging to dear life on the sheer slopes – the only difference, was yesterday we saw some pretty impressive waterfalls, one of which called the Stirling Falls which our skipper insisted on driving the boat into,  and as we had found a lovely little spot outside we got wet!! ! Let me tell you, it was bloody cold!!! 

Just like at home after a big xmas dinner

The other difference of yesterday’s boat trip (and my highlight) were the long haired seal pups which were basking in the sun on one of the rocks!  The skipper cut the engines and we drifted close enough to the rock to be able to see their faces – they really were not worried by us and if anything seemed a little put out that we were interrupting their sunbathing!

All in all a good day – not our best but you can’t come all the way to New Zealand without seeing the Milford Sound.

The waterfall our boat went under !

I was actually busy writing a blog when Martel made this unscheduled stop and I never even saw the signs which made her stop so when I looked up and saw where we were I was quite surprised.  I had picked up some of the leaflets from the various Information centres but really not given them any thought as to their whereabouts. 

The girl who thought about it and thought about it

We walked through into the viewing area and positioned ourselves at about the same level as the jumpers and watched as a girl cogitated her jump simply delaying the 43metre drop.  I watched in amusement as she stalled and then stalled and then sat down saying “I need more time”  I was laying bets that she would bottle it and as she shuffled back out of site I was convinced I had backed a sure looser.  To my amazement she jumped up and walked straight off the edge and fell into her 5 second free fall before bouncing back up “good girl” I said, “but let’s be honest it’s not that hard, doesn’t look to high at all” oh how I would come to rue that comment as Martel turned to me and said “you do it then, it’s easy for you to say from here”….. That was all the incentive I needed, I turned and walked back to the camper to put on my trainers all the way thinking “is this a good idea?” then thinking “it’s a lot of money, do I really wanna spend this?” but I’d made my mind up and there was no going back now.  Martel wasn’t interested in the slightest in doing a jump and this suited me down to the ground as she could be my camera person and benefactor of my extensive wealth should my mass of muscles snap the bungy cord or should I plunge into the sea and not bounce back up wedging my head between two unseen rocks, who was I kidding!!  To my absolute amazement I was met by a sheepish nervous looking Martel saying “I can’t have you do something like this on your own, I’m doing it as well!!” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, not only did she want to jump but she wanted to jump attached to me! I am a walking liability and possibly the unluckiest person alive but I wasn’t even going to attempt to talk her out of it as the thought of us both plunging to our demise was quite romantic – I’m sure our family wouldn’t see it like that.  So that was that, we signed up paid our money and we were about to jump 145 feet tied only by our ankles, together! 

Don't look down!!

We slowly walked to the bridge and suddenly you were aware of just how high you were about to fall.  From the side view the bridge doesn’t look to high but when you’re standing looking down, let me assure you, it looks bloody high.  In these sorts of situations I’m my own worst enemy as I analyse everything, the wind, the surroundings, the state of the ropes, all the time looking for something out of the ordinary that may cause a chain of events that end in catastrophe.  The guy tying our bungee cord kept asking the time and seemed in a rush, “nearly time to leave off he said”.  That was the last thing I needed to hear as when I’m in a rush to get home the only thing that’s really on my mind is finishing and getting home.  To say I was concerned he had made a rush job of the knots he had tied round our ankles was an understatement but it was too late now.  We were tied and stood up and facing the sheer drop below us.  Your told ‘don’t look down’ but the first thing you do is look down, I did it and so did Martel.  Ducks animal life 2 miles away heard her exclaim “fuck” as the realisation of what I her competitive nature had coaxed her into struck her.  I shuffled forward to the edge of the platform trying not to fall, what was I thinking, I was about to jump I thought.  A quick smile to the camera, a quick wave to the watching crowd and… wait a minute…. “Let go of the bridge Tiny Dancer” the bungy crew asked, there is only one Tiny Dancer up here I thought, “let go of the bridge Tiny Dancer” he said again.  I’m not sure even Martel knew she was still clasped to the bridge so a quick look back and a “Marls, let go, come on” and 3-2-1 Bungy!!!!

What were we thinking?!

What went through my mind in the next few seconds is a bit if a blurr but I do quite clearly remember thinking “if I don’t go on 1 I’ll never go and I’m not letting my girlfriend drag me off the platform and then brag about how she had to pull me over the edge” I also remember thinking “re wire your brain like a plug as everything in your body and mind will be telling you not to jump so I just ignore it” It worked, we jumped on 3 no hanging about and let me tell you throwing yourself off a perfectly good bridge is an awful as the few seconds you free fall you quite honestly feel like you’re going to die but the adrenalin rush after is awesome.  The whole time you’re falling your praying that you bounce back up, thankfully we did.  We have dvd proof, profanities and all so look forward to showing you all when we get back home!

Dressed for a glacier climb

When we woke on the morning of our Fox Glacier walk you knew it was going to be a wet day as it was grey, chilly and the rain was showing no signs of relenting.  It had rained so much during the night and previous day the grass was water logged and large lakes had started to form round our campervan.  The damp had got into our camper and mould had started to form on some of the curtains.   I was starting to wonder if we would catch Ebola sleeping in a camper van that smelt like a football boots that had been left wet in the bottom of your bag for a week or two. 

Never the less in true British style we soldiered on despite the fact neither of us really had clothing that was appropriate for going out in the rain let alone a walk on a lump of Ice in a valley of mountains.  Martel had some combat trousers which were light and suitable for all the walking, she also had a semi water proof coat and several layers to keep away the cold.  I on the other hand only had jeans in the trouser department so figured to minimise the amount of surface material that could get wet I should go for a pair of shorts; water proof ability 0, thermal properties 1.  I only really had t-shirts and one fleece which when wet would probably weigh the same as me so I decided to wear my rash vest which I figured keeps me warm when I surf so it’s good for a glacier walk, winner; water proof ability 8 thermal properties 7.  As we arrived at the Glacier walk HQ it was immediately clear I was underdressed for the occasion.  Whereas I looked ready for the beach most people looked like they were about to undertake some sort of trek to the polar cap.  Walking boots, neatly pressed chino like trousers with endless zips to secret pockets and removable bits that transform full length to shorts that if I’m honest I actually quite fancied a pair of and proper rain Macs that don’t make you look like you spend your weekends in train stations reeking of pantries whilst your nocturnal activities see you turn into a deviant who has a penchant for alter boys and bestiality.  I was the person who turned up to a fancy dress party in my normal clothes whilst everyone else had made an effort; damn it and I bloody love a fancy dress party.   Luckily for me the company we used provided appropriate clothing for idiots like me who come dressed like me and I was kitted out with Private Benjamin boots complete with number and size on the back; I always find this a little annoying as the dudes with size 12 feet strut around deliberately wearing trousers that are too short to draw one’s attention to the fact they have size 12 ft, as if to say “Don’t know if you noticed back there but, yes that’s right ladies, size 12 feet and a huge great penis, oh yeah, gidigy gigidy” 

As I left for the glacier I caught sight of myself in the window, there I was waterproof trousers, slightly too short in the leg, rain Mac on with hood up and smelling of pantries, I worried myself as my stare locked on a friendly looking Alsatian who looked like he loved the taste of toe jam …. I digress.  Safety in numbers as whilst I definitely looked like a weirdo so did everyone else as 95% of the group had also borrowed the pervert costume. 

Hard work for someone so little

The walk up to the glacier was around half an hour and across mountainous land that wouldn’t look out of place on the set of lord of the rings.  Running beside us was a raging torrent powered by the melting glacier personified by the heavy rain.  It flowed past with frightening power carrying with it fallen rock and what can only be described as icebergs. It was a nonchalant display of power as no man could lift what this river was carrying with such ease.  With every step nature reminds you its boss as the guide looked constantly on edge just in case a rock fell from the towering mountains that surrounded us.  We traversed up cliffs, passed over knee dip fast flowing rivers and eventually reached the glacier.  There was a noticeable drop in temperature and the rain was now falling with torrential pace making the glacier complete death trap.  Fear not as our boots were now fully blinged up with an accessory called a crampon.  This amused me at first as I thought I was about to attach something to my boots which has a more common use for menstruating ladies and incontinent gay men but as funny as it would have been to attach a tampon to my boot they would give me no grip on ice, likewise a crampons would make a nasty mess if used in a similar fashion of that which a tampon is used for.  

Made it!!

There we stood soaked through, shivering with the rain pounding down as hard as I had ever experienced but you couldn’t help but smile as you took in the spectacle that surrounded us.   It was so so strange yet at the same time breath taking to be on top of something so volatile, so powerful, I can only imagine it’s how Martel feels when she lies next to me in bed.  The whole time we walked on the glacier you kept stumbling across deep holes with crystal clear glacier water flowing through them, I even drank a load to see if it made me sick but it tasted like the purist water imaginable.  An Asian girl asked if it tasted nice and I replied “it’s lovely have some” she replied “no thanks, I’m not like you English who drink tea from tea pots that look like they could grow teeth” touché young lady I thought!  

It rained but the smile lived on

A couple of times you heard what sounded like thunder as the rain forced the glacier to crack and something would fall from above, like on an aeroplane during turbulence I looked at the guide and if he didn’t loosed fazed neither was I.  After around 30 minutes on the glacier we headed back and not a moment too soon as the rain had caused the rivers we passed to swell now making them almost impassable.  A couple of times it really didn’t look safe and this was optimised when one of the other group fell whilst passing the river and dislocated his shoulder.  For once neither myself nor Martel where injured and we got back to the bus safely.  For all those that say there is no such thing as bad weather just inappropriate clothing I say bollocks as we both had appropriate clothing on but we were still soaked through to the pants which is ironic as it was one of the very few days I wore some!  By far the best day I have had in NZ thus, good times! 

More pics….. 

This gives you an ideal of the size of it as Marls is quite far away

View from the bottom

   
  

Soaked but smiling

Scary!

Things are getting really good.  It seems the further south you go the more dramatic the scenery gets.  We have been heading south for the last week and whilst doing so scaling the west coast of NZ at the same time.  Unfortunately after leaving Kaiteriteri Mother Nature has been exceptionally unkind and it’s bombed it down for 90% of the time. According to local folk it’s not a holiday on the west coast unless it rains, if I’d of known that I might have packed something more than my Freddie Mercury vest and shorts. 
On the road down to our next major stop Franz Joseph we passed some of the most beautiful but frightening scenery I have ever seen.  Being a coast line it has some awe inspiring beaches, but for all the wrong reasons.  I’m not talking white sand and blue sea, forget that, standing on the beaches of the west coast of NZ you really get the impression your on the edge of the world and its bloody frightening.  It’s hard to explain, even for someone who spouts as much bullshit as me but, even the pictures don’t really do it justice.  It was cold, grey and misty, the waves were as powerful as the mighty surfer’s paradise and poking out of the water like dormant land mines were sharp nasty looking black rocks waiting to smash anyone who dared to venture into the sea.  For someone like me who is petrified of deep water a scene like this is about as scary as it gets.  I had Goosebumps looking at the sea and after taking the pictures I scarpered off the sand like a cat with the wind up its tail.   Despite being somewhat perturbed by the sea you can’t help but admire the sheer power it exudes, there was a reason not a sole could be seen for miles  on these beaches and let me assure you it was nothing to do with the weather it was just frightening.

Every journey you take on this route needs at least an hour added on to it as you make so many unscheduled stops all be it to either take pictures or just stand and gawp mouth wide open at the awesome views.  I’m a total sceptic and to impress me something has to be pretty damn special.  When people harp on about how wonderful NZ is I always take it with a pinch of salt  as its very easy to follow the hype of what’s been said before, so before coming here I had preconceptions that this place was gonna be amazing which meant to impress me it had to be mind blowingly amazing.  I’ll be honest, the North Island was ok, it was good but not amazing, I have had equally if not better times sat in various eastern European pubs with my mates.  The South Island started slowly but the further down the island you go the better it gets.  My eyes thanks to Specsaver contact lenses have seen some of the most amazing things I think I will ever see in my life and that’s coming from a person who has seen Melinda Messenger in her prime bent over exposing her pants signing t-shirt’s on the Sun Newspapers page 3 tour bus; she’d done well for herself but she was nothing more than, nice.

Timed this pic just right

One of the many stop off on route was the pancake rocks and blow holes.  In my mind this sounded amazing as if you say it with a slight speech impediment it sounds like a perverse sex act and something to eat, and that sound bloody marvellous!  Yet again we were blessed with typical English December weather, drizzle and blowing winds but this was perfect weather to fully experience this particular stop.  The pancake rocks where self explanatory, a formation of rocks that are layered on top of each other making them appear to menials like a pile pancakes.  Nothing to impressive but the raging tide which was hurtling round the rocks had created small holes.  The force of the water propelled the water up the holes creating a chimney like effect, a real crowd pleaser.  After taking a few snaps the sight of something resembling pancakes just made me hungry and it was back to the camper and on to our final destination for the day.

Greymouth was our spot for the night, nothing particularly interesting to report about this place, it rained a lot and made the campervan incredibly cold.  The next morning was another early start as we had more driving to undertake to the next notable stop, the Glacier Region.  Now if you like me you actually believe glacier’s in particular Fox Glacier to be a mint, whilst not entirely wrong, the purpose of our visit here had nothing to with the amuse-bouch which present themselves in traditional mint or fruit flavour. 

Not at all what I was expecting

These particular Glaciers are giant lumps of snow and ice forming in the mountains and forcing themselves down through the valleys.  The result is something quite spectacular if not a little out of place in an alpine region.  Whilst glaciers can be found all over NZ Franz Joseph and Fox are the only two glaciers that you can walk, hike or tramp on.  Today’s adventure was only about observing the Franz Joseph as we had booked a hike on the Fox Glacier and whilst standing at the bottom and admiring this freak of a spectacle was quite something the highlight of my day had to be finding Ambrosia Rice Pudding in the local supermarket and consuming all of it in under 2 minutes in the back of my camper, thank you Ambrosia!