Day 15: The views get even better?!?
Getting up this morning was painful, painful, painful. Somehow the thought of everyone else having to drag themselves out of bed and onto the bus by 5am or whatever time it was softened the blow. But the bus ride out to Te Anau to visit the Milford Sound was a several hour commitment. My initial fatigue quickly wore off on the bus, but nearly everyone on the bus passed out instantly.
The views until now had been spectacular, and I didn't think they could get any better. And then our bus ride began, and I realized I was wrong. This day would present the most awesome vistas yet.
It
began with the drive to Milford Sound, one of the world's famed scenic
routes. The drive, including stops for photos, took us just over 3 hours
along Highway 94. After a pit stop along Lake Te Anau for some food, we
began passing over rolling farm fields and between tree-covered mountain
ranges, all bathed in the brightest sunshine yet. This was Fiordland
National Park, 3 million acres of God's country.
Our
first photo stop was Mirror Lakes. These presented, yes, the trademark
photo of mountains reflected upside down in the glassy surface of the
placid lakes, a composition which graces nearly every nature book and
thousands of postcards worldwide. This didn't stop me from snapping a
few of my own.
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Next, we began climbing slowly into steep gorges, walls of rock rising straight into the sky on either side of us. It was here that we stopped just outside of a tunnel. Johnny punched a few buttons on his remote, and suddenly the music to Star Wars came blaring out of the bus speakers. Now we were ready for our drive through Homer Tunnel, the longest dirt tunnel in the world. Dirt below us, dirt above us, nothing but darkness ahead. Interestingly, the tunnel is one-way only. The music made the moment for us. If you drive it, make sure to have that CD ready to fire up.
Out
of the tunnel, it was only a short drive further to the head of Milford
Sound. We hopped aboard a large cruise ship packed to the railing with
tourists and headed off into the Sound. It wasn't long before we saw our
first waterfall on the right, and then one on the left, and then one after
the other around every other turn. These were thin rivulets of water that
seemed to snake down the side of the rocky cliffs, down from the sky itself.
It certainly helped that they were framed by the sun of another gorgous
weather day. Everyone sprinted up to the top deck right away, armed with
cameras of all makes and models, the sound of lenses snapping, camcorders
whirring, tourists scurrying from one side of the deck to the other as
if the Sound was going extinct. It was only the realization that the vistas
extended on for miles (and perhaps shutter fatigue) that slowed the tourist
horde.
One
of the unique species one encounters while traveling abroad is the middle-aged
Japanese tour group. They travel in packs of twenty to thirty, and most
are armed with a variety of Japanese brand camcorders and still cameras
which they will use early and often, and with little provocation. Though
normally quite shy when separated from the pack, in the presence of the
pack and while traveling away from their home country, they can be surprisingly
aggressive. On our boat were several of these packs, including some from
Korea and China.
Rachel
and Kerryn encountered this behavior firsthand. An older Japanese man
asked to have a picture with the two of them. He was probably about three
times their age, and his leering smile hinted at more than sociable interests.
Rachel and Kerryn acquiesced, though they could manage only a halfhearted
grimace when he stood between the two of them and wrapped them each around
the waist with greedy arms.
The
boat turned around after an hour or two and brought us back the way we
came. After nearly two hours of jostling with the tourist hordes above
deck, I sought respite down below. Gradually, others filtered down to
join me. To pass time, Corinna and I played model for each other and shot
some goofy pics. Well, mine looked goofy which is why I burned them.
We had two options for the return trip. Hop back on board the bus and return the way we came, or take to the air to cut down the return route and see things from the top down. Jens, Stefan, Corinna, and I opted for wings. The bus dropped us off, we met Captain Carlton Campbell of Queenstown Air, and in just a little more time than it would take to pack our group into a cab, we were picking up speed down the runway and arcing up towards the sky on a ramp of air.
Our
run of luck continued. The beautiful weather held, and Captain Campbell
(sounds like a superhero) told us he'd never had a flight this calm before.
It was likely hyperbole, but indeed, our plane never once pitched or dipped
or bucked in the wind. The sunlight provided perfect lighting for us to
examine the magnificent landscapes. Something about flying a tiny prop
plane into valleys between soaring peaks and over sapphire blue lakes
causes me to feel like an intrepid explorer. Probably from watching too
many movies.
After we landed, all giddy from our adventure, a shuttle took us back to our hotel. The others hadn't arrived yet so we had some free time in the afternoon, before our evening meal. We could have contented ourselves with chilling in our rooms to jot notes in our journals, or strolling around town in the weather, but my adrenaline addiction had gotten hold of me. I had a hankering for speed, and I knew what I wanted. Finding it would be the tricky part.
The hotel had one of those shelves stuffed with brochures from various local tourist operators, but the activity I was after was nowhere to be found, surprisingly. The phone book came through for me, though, and a quick call over confirmed that the listing was up-to-date.
I grabbed Corinna from her room.
"C'mon," I said. "We're going out."
"Where are we going?" she asked, somewhat settled in bed with her journal.
"Somewhere fun. Make sure you wear something you don't mind getting drenched in."
She made a question mark with her face, but I knew she'd be game. A cab drove us north out of downtown Queenstown, and when we arrived at Frankton Marina and she saw the tandem jet ski docked in the lake, her eyes lit up.
Of course, we made a competition out of it. The couple running the jet ski operation pointed out the invisible borders on the lake within which we had to stay. This jet ski was capable of reaching about 50mph. I handed her the keys first because I was curious about her driving, but mostly it was to gauge how far she'd push the jet ski to allow myself room to match or exceed her when I took the wheel, so to speak. So silly, our little games, and yet so fun.
She pushed the jet ski pretty hard, and occasionally I had to hang on for dear life when we started bouncing off of some small waves. But all in all, she was a considerate driver and kept me dry.
Me, on the other hand? Full throttle, hard turns, all the way. I'm somewhat of a speed freak, and on the water one feels indestructible. The jet ski could really move, and Corinna's crazy screaming only encouraged me. My favorite move was to turn the jet ski in as tight a radius as possible and go full throttle. The jet ski would carve a spiral into the water until it was half submerged beneath water, and then a simple straightening of the handlebars would launch us out of the water.
The half hour went by too quickly, and then it was back into town.
The rest of the day until nightfall went quickly. I did some laundry, shopped around town a bit (New Zealand All Blacks gear is hot with its black and silver Raiders-esque color scheme), and we all gathered for one of our group dinners. Our communal meals were a lot of fun. Ange and Susan prepped the food, and we all chipped in with dishes. A few of us heard from folks who had done the Lord of the Rings tour the previous day that it wasn't up to snuff. Those of us scheduled for that same tour the next day (Laura, Jens, Corinna, Stefan, and I) were concerned and contemplated canceling. But Ange or Johnny or perhaps both of them got on the phone with the tour operators and passed along some constructive criticism, and we decided at dinner it would be bad form to cancel at the last minute. Ange promised us an experienced guide the next morning.
That night we all went out for drinks together, hopping a few bars. Ultimately, most of us ended up back at the World dance club for a long night of dancing. I don't remember the dancing much, but what I do remember is finding a swing set on the walk home and having Corinna kick my ass in an impromptu contest of who-can-swing-higher. Quite embarrassing. I think it was because of her longer legs.
Next: Retracing the steps of Frodo, and the ping pong championship at Lake Ohau
Be sure to stop at the Mirror Lakes on the way to Milford Sound. The mountains and skies reflected in the water offer beautiful if somewhat cliched mirror image compositions.
The Milford Track is one of the world's premier hikes. Because the number of hikers on the trail is limited, you'll want to make reservations ahead of time. The cushy option is the Milford Track Guided Walk. Guides lead you on the trail, and you spend each night with real lodging and warm meals. November and April are considered the low season, and December through March their high season: rates vary accordingly.
One option to avoid the long drive from Queenstown to Milford Sound is to fly there and hop a cruise upon arrival. Queenstown Air offers fly/cruise combos.
What I did, and what I recommend as a great combination, is to take a coach bus to Milford Sound, hop a boat cruise there, and then fly back to Queenstown. You get the best of all worlds--gorgeous views of Fiordland National Park on the bus ride out, exploration of Milford Sound by boat, and a whole different view from the sky on the return trip. The flight with Queenstown Air cost me NZ$299, which is a bit pricey, but considering the views and the shortened return trip, quite worthwhile.
Some cruise operators in the Milford Sound:
- Fiordland Travel: perhaps the largest and most well-known. Offers a huge number of different packages for exploring the Sound.
- Milford Sound Red Boat Cruises
I had a hankering for jet skiing during one sunny afternoon and found a place that offered it in Frankton Marina, across from a Shell gas station. It was a short cab ride from downtown Queenstown. The phone # when I was there was 442 3454, and it cost NZ$75 for a half hour tandem ride on their incredibly fast jet ski.