TASHY TRAVELS

Every Sunday, I am going to upload a post about the different countries I have visited and/or lived in since 2002.

I can assure you of some interesting stories.

NEW ZEALAND 2

We left the big cities of Christchurch and Dunedin behind us and headed west across the bottom of the South Island. This took us into the mountains of the Southern Alps and the area was also home to a large number of lakes. This will often happen around the world as lakes are formed either when the land is pushed up to make a mountain or, during the ice age, by glaciers. The major town here, the home of all those adrenaline-seeking backpackers, is Queenstown. This is where bungy jumping first became available to the public and it is still the home of this strange desire. For me, as you will see, the excitement, the amazement, the sheer incredulity of nature, came a little later.

Don’t get me wrong. I liked Queenstown, although I thought it had a bit of an identity crisis. I had expected a town filled with young backpackers, all eager to fling themselves of this and that or the other and all wandering around the town in plaster casts having done so. But, if you go into the town and look at all the new buildings, I can assure you that the average backpacker could not afford the accommodation being built. Unless Bill Gates goes backpacking (sounds like the title of road movie doesn’t it), these places will remain empty of backpackers.

I think the reason for this urban schizophrenia is that Queenstown actually has dual seasonality, a new word I’ve just invented. In other words, it is popular in summer and winter. It is a beautiful area with the lakes in the summer and then has the ski fields nearby in the winter. So it caters, or tries to cater, for both types of people. The average traveller on a budget, who can go budget, sorry bungy, jumping and the wealthier user of the piste. So that’s the choice; take the jump or take the piste. Oh, and one other thing. Apparently, it was actually built-in the wrong place on the wrong side of the lake. In the afternoon, the setting sun disappears very early in Queenstown because of the mountains to the west but continues to shine on the other side of the lake.

Okay, imagine a bungy jump. You are standing on a ledge high over a river. You have a cord tied round your ankles. You jump off the ledge and plunge down toward the river and just before you hit it, the bungy cord pings you back up again, before you drop down again, bounce up and down and then you are left hanging over the river. Slowly you are lowered into a passing dinghy and back to shore. You say a little prayer that you remembered to wear your brown trousers.

Of course, if you think about it, bungy jumping isn’t very dangerous at all. Would anyone really be allowed to let the paying public nearly kill themselves? The answer is maybe but not by bungy jumping. I am told that the most dangerous activity in Queenstown, that you pay for, is the luge run at the top of the gondola ride. They have more injuries each year than all the bungy jumps combined. It seems that the challenge of bungy jumping is a personal one; to force yourself to jump off a platform and drop down anything between 40 and 140 metres, tied to a piece of rope and knowing that it is perfectly safe. I have an incredible fear of heights. I cannot stand next to a cliff top or, actually, even a second floor window. So for me, the worst part of the bungy jump would be getting on the actual platform and so I didn’t. But lots of people do and they all say it is a great thrill. I, however, had three goes on the luge. Fear and stupidity; a rare combination.

My girlfriend, however, did bungy jump and also tried a canyon swing. She did her bungy jump at Kawarau bridge, the home of bungy jumping, so it says. According to the information we got, the Kawarau Bridge bungy opened in 1988 and became the World’s first full-time Bungy Bridge. One of the initiators, AJ Hackett, had jumped a year earlier from the Eifel Tower, where he had secretly hidden one night, set up his rubber latex cords and then, when the day, broke, made his jump. Immediately afterwards he was arrested, but not for long. This was however great publicity for the whole bungy idea, from which AJ and his partner Henry van Asch created the whole business. The originators of the concept, however, are more likely to be the indigenous people on Pentecost Island in Vanuatu. Well, go and look it up.

I can, therefore, tell you no more about bungy jumping but I can tell you a little more about Queenstown. Just outside the town is the Gondola Ride. A ride in a gondola is one of the most relaxing things I can think of. My father used to tell me never to end a sentence with a preposition, which I have just done, but I was totally relaxed about it. Never mind, you climb aboard your gondola and then slowly move around in some of the most beautiful scenery in the world. I had done it once before in 1988 during a romantic break but that was in Venice.

In Queenstown things are a little different. My father didn’t like heights and, while I may not have inherited his strict use of the English language, I have inherited his fear of being any distance above the ground. The Skyline Gondola in Queenstown goes up 450 metres. In my language, that’s a height. You can look out the window and see the town getting smaller below you. Conversely, you can face forwards and watch the rock face looking quite large most of the time.

The gondola takes you up Bob’s Peak, lucky old Bob, and on the way I had my own peak to see how far away the land had gone. We were told that the ride took about three minutes and I waited until we had been ascending for a couple of minutes and it was a long way down although I will admit quite a breathtaking view. Once at the top you can dine in the Skyline Restaurant (see later), have a snack in the cafe, browse in the gift shop or maybe you can just sit back and take in the views. Or, you can climb up a bit further and then come down on the luge. Now, as I said, this is far more dangerous than bungy jumping but you are in control and it’s a little bit of a test of skill and involves speed. I was hooked. By the way you can either climb up to the luge or go on a chair lift. I can report the climb is very pleasant, thank you.

After a few days, and much adrenaline-fuelled excitement, we left Queenstown and headed north to Wanaka; smaller, less touristy, and maybe better for that, and then west over the mountains until we reached the West Coast. Sensibly, at this point, we turned north again, our eventual destination being the little town of Franz Josef. With the Southern Alps mountain range so close, the coastline here is far different from that we had seen last week, around Christchurch and Dunedin. No longer the Pacific Ocean, we were now running alongside the Tasman Sea. To me, it was more dramatic, wilder and the farms and communities we came across were more remote. New Zealand is a pretty big country, size-wise, in which to fit its 4 million people, so remote is very much a relative word. What is more, when you consider that the South Island, roughly the same size as the north, only has about 1 million of those people, there are many places where you see no sign of human habitation at all. On the drive north we passed River Creek , a minute community with the most isolated school in New Zealand. A little later, we stopped briefly to talk to a sheep and cattle farmer and asked him, among other things, where did he do his shopping. He had the choice of a 2-hour trip north to Greymouth or a 5-hour drive over the Alps to Christchurch. Neither seemed to worry him. Think about it. Imagine living in London and shopping in Newcastle, and you can adjust this for your own country.

While in Wanaka, we visited Puzzling World, a superb attraction built up over many years by a guy called Stuart Landsborough. He and his wife, Jan, bought a piece of barren land in Wanaka in 1973 and created the world’s first wooden maze. By 1983 the concept had grown and those people who were clever and finished the maze could wait for their friends, hoping they would see them again, in the Puzzle Centre, where they could try all sorts of puzzles. A little later Stuart went to Japan to design mazes over there, but, when he came back, he decided to extend the whole complex and the theme became puzzling eccentricity. Outside the centre are a series of buildings, which certainly look strange. The Leaning tower of Wanaka leans at 53 degrees and the clock runs backwards. By the way, I have always thought that the citizens of Pisa would make far more money if they said the leaning tower, which only leans at 6 degrees, was straight and all the other buildings lean. Think of the number of tourist attractions then. But at Puzzling World there is much to see anyway.

Leaving the maze till last, a wise decision we thought in case we never came out, we went first to the illusion rooms. There are four of these and some far more puzzling and clever than others. Firstly there are 3D holograms, my favourite being the woman who smiled as I walked away. This happens quite often by the way. Then there is the hall of following faces which for me, is the cleverest thing I have seen in a long time. On the wall of the room are the faces of famous people. Each person has a number of their faces in a square block, perhaps ten across and five down I forgot to count, and if you look closely they are actually concave shapes. But, from a distance, they stand out, convex, and take on the appearance of that person. The incredible bit is that as you walk, the faces follow you. Don’t ask me, I don’t understand it and therefore it is very clever. Then you go to the Ames Room, where you walk across the floor and change from a dwarf to a giant and move on to the Tilted Room where water flows uphill and all manner of unnatural things seem to happen. Let’s just say you have to be there to experience it.

After this we went out to the maze which is not only a wooden one but has two levels. The aim is to visit each of the four towers in the four corners and then get back. We were told by Duncan, Stuart’s son-in-law who now runs it with his wife, who should be Stuart’s daughter but in this place I wouldn’t bet on it, that Stuart had watched people in the maze and then seen which was the natural way they went. Then, as you can do with a wooden maze, he moved the walls. Would you want this man as your father-in-law? There are escape doors around the maze and we used these as, although we, collectively, visited all four towers, we couldn’t find our way back to the start which is also the finish. Finally, as you can see from the photo, there is a realistic Roman toilet. Let’s say no more shall we?

Then we drove on to the town of Franz Josef. Just outside the town is a glacier. The town of Franz Josef is there because of the glacier. Most people who live there work in tourism. It is not the sort of place you would normally stop in unless you know what is there. The glacier sits, at the moment, just outside the town. In simple terms it is a moving wedge of ice that, if it wants, can push everything before it. A wedge that has formed the land, reformed the land and continues to do so. I find it incredible just to think about living here. Even more so to be able to walk on the glacier each day as the guides do. Needless to say we took a walk, actually about a 12-kilometre walk but who cares. From a distance you just seem to be heading toward the snow-covered base of a mountain across a dried up stone covered riverbed. Then you listen to your guide who tells you how we can escape if there is a sudden surge and the river should flood. Then, having survived that, when you get there, when you are on it, everything is so different.

A little bit of an attempted explanation here, for those who don’t know. A glacier is a large block of ice, and I mean large, which is moving slowly downhill. Glaciers are formed at a high level when the amount of winter snow is bigger than that which is lost during the melting period in the summer. Over several years, as water seeps into this snow, and the weight of more snow pushes out the air, the ice that is left, turns blueish in colour. Gravity then makes the ice mass flow downhill, almost as though it was a thick liquid like treacle and when it reaches the lower levels and warms, it melts and turns into a river or a lake. Many of the lakes around Queenstown are fed from glaciers and as a result are really cold.

There are about 140 glaciers in these mountains. One of the reasons that they are there is because the west winds that come across the Tasman Sea carry a lot of moisture. When they rise to climb over the mountains the air cools rapidly causing heavy rain and snowfall. However, only the Franz Josef and the nearby Fox glacier come down so low that they actually run through a rainforest. Sounds weird doesn’t it. A glacier in a rainforest. This is all to do with the shape of the land. There is a very wide, high block of land and that feeds large amounts of snow into two very narrow valleys. The snow at the top has to be balanced by a large area of melting lower down. For this to happen, the glacier has to drop down to an unusually low altitude and reaches the temperate rain forest below.

That’s OK but the glacier is constantly moving. The end of it, where the melting takes places, is called the terminal face. In the last twenty years this terminal face has moved about 1 kilometre down the mountain. A glacier is really a bit like a thick river. Indeed right under the ice, just above the rock of the mountain, there is a covering of water. As you know rivers twist and turn and so do glaciers. But, as the ice twists, it cracks into deep crevasses, which are often narrow gaps, going deep down. Where a river, which reaches a steep drop, will form a waterfall, a glacier forms an icefall. These icefalls can break off and topple down. The Franz Josef glacier has been known to move four metres a day, which is pretty quick by glacier standards.

The reason glaciers move, and they can go forwards or backwards, is because of the balance of snow at the top and melting at the bottom. If it is cold and there is more snow and less melting, the glacier will advance. This would happen in an ice age. If there is less snow and more melting, when it becomes hotter, then the glacier will retreat. However glaciers are a bit slow to react to weather changes and in the case of the Franz Josef, it takes about five years for any changes to have an effect. Think about that. You go out on a cold winter day and five years later you put on your coat. By the way the Fox glacier takes six years to react. Glacial rivers are often whitish in colour. This is because the constant rubbing of the debris carried down by the glacier leaves a white powder, called rock flour, and this finds its way into the rivers.

We had booked a walk on the glacier. I will tell you now if you need a list of things to do in your life, walk on a glacier, should be very close to the top. First we were given boots, over-trousers, socks and collected our crampons (look it up). Then we set off in the bus for the start of our adventure. Our guide was Jo, who had lived around here all her life, short though that may be, and she was able to tell us how the glacier had changed even in that short time. It must be so exciting to live in an area where there is a glacier and it is always changing. Experts can tell where glaciers have been by looking at the trees on the sides of the valley. If the trees are old, then the ice has not recently reached that level. Younger trees show where the ice may have been. As you can guess, trees cannot survive under the glacier. Waterfalls can also flow down the side of the valleys and into the river formed by the glacier. Again these rivers change more rapidly than ones formed by just water. A melting of a large part of the glacier can result in a sudden flood and a raging river.

First we had a walk across the riverbed till we reached the terminal face (beginning to you) of the glacier. Here we put on our crampons and Jo kindly asked if anyone was frightened of heights. One of the twelve was and I admitted it straight away. “Don’t worry”, she said, “so am I”. I had no idea why, as we were about to walk on a glacier, she should wish to compare fears. I thought maybe we would have to climb out up a cliff if the river suddenly flooded. At this stage I decided not to reveal I couldn’t swim. Her next comment was my advance warning of a possible problem, “When we get to the tricky bits you can walk behind me,” she said. Then she went on to say that as we walked don’t get too close to her when she is swinging her ice axe.

The glacier is actually a mass of crevasses, deep holes into which, if you fall, getting you out would be pretty difficult. We had to wear crampons on the soles of our shoes so we didn’t slip. Crampons, for the uninitiated, and those who did not look it up as instructed, are like football boot studs only stronger and far more necessary. Slip on the football field and you might look stupid, slip here and you might never look stupid again. We were guided across the glacier, sometimes climbing up steps, sometimes climbing down, crossing narrow ledges and just generally in awe of the scenery.

There were twelve who set out on our tour and twelve who came back. A good guide being a little like a good pilot. The definition of a good pilot being one who has the same number of take-offs as landings; a good guide takes out the same number of people as they bring back. I had thought we might all be roped together but we weren’t. Why would everyone want to fall if I did? Nevertheless if the front person climbing or the rear person descending, slipped down, the domino effect would mean we all joined in. It was sort of group disaster.

But what really brought it all home to me was when we kept coming across other guides, not guiding that day, but cutting new steps into the glacier face. Why? Because tomorrow, or the next day, things will change, the path we took may not be there. The glacier will have moved. The steps cut out last week won’t be there.

Sometimes, as our guide had told us again, there will be a surge and the glacier will disgorge some of its ice into the river, which will then become a fast running river. We were told that the reason so many of the road bridges over these rivers were only single lane was because they kept being destroyed in floods. Replacing a single lane is quicker and cheaper. Look, if you think bungy jumping is a thrill, try this. Walk on a piece of nature, look down deep crevasses (I tried not to), know that the path you walk may not be there tomorrow or even when you come back, and realise that it is moving under you. That’s what I call a thrill, even allowing for the heights.

Seriously the whole adventure was brilliant, I managed to cross narrow ledges with drops on one side, climb steep steps cut in the ice, and even look back and down a few times. My only problem came with Jo’s very genuine concern as we walked across these narrow bits. She would set off; I would wait a little, then follow, eager to get across as quickly as possible and just watching my feet. Then halfway across she would stop and turn to ask if I was OK. Just keep going I would say and we did. Let me just say that if you can only afford one adventure in your lifetime, go to the Guiding Company and walk on the glacier. You will never experience anything like it, and you will be superbly looked after. They haven’t lost anyone yet although I did notice a few axes lying on the glacier as we walked. They may not have lost the paying customers but I reckon a few guides may be missing.

This is a place where mother nature rules and people live under her control. Where I come from in England, most changes to my landscape, my environment, were planned and man-made. Here there is nothing of the sort. The changes are made by nature, there are no plans and man, however hard he may try, has very little control. The glacier has been moving for millions of years. But people can actually see changes in their own lifetime and not just little changes, big ones. Between 1965 and now the glacier has retreated about 1 kilometre and then advanced again back to where it was. Amazingly, for me anyway, millions of years ago the terminal face, the end of the glacier was actually in the Tasman Sea. That’s right, the terminal face, the end, of the Franz Josef glacier was about 10kms out into the Tasman Sea.

People will tell you that New Zealand only has a short history. They are right if you only think of history as of the human kind. But, the land here in New Zealand is active and constantly changing with its volcanoes, hot springs, earthquakes and glaciers. The land is like the face of an old person, wearing the traces of time and, if you know how, you can read the past from it. Maybe this is why so many people who care for our planet seem to live in New Zealand. To live on the land where at any moment the powerful forces of nature can wipe out a whole city, where mother nature can decide to destroy everything in one moment, makes you more aware of, and show more respect to, nature.

The following day, after walking on the glacier, we went out on a quad bike in a rain forest. Life cannot get much better than this. Within a few minutes you have the sea, a mountain, a glacier, a river and a rain forest. Where else in the world can you get this. Hopefully I will find out but for now I am happy here, except I am suffering from a bout of envy. People live around Franz Josef. That does not seem fair. It should only be taken in small doses. Too much of a good thing must be bad for you. Although, in that case, why are they all so happy? Perhaps I should have stayed for a bit longer. But in this job, that’s something I can’t do, although, then, I did. The guy who owned our accommodation in Franz Josef actually asked us to stay an extra night so we could try out a quad bike ride he had recently opened.

We said yes because we are such nice people and we weren’t disappointed. This time Hollie was our guide. We walked a fair way to where the ride began and then we got kitted out. They give you boots, jacket, over trousers (we discovered why later) and a helmet. You can also have gloves and a balaclava, under the helmet of course, but Mr Tough-guy didn’t need these. Having just re-read this, the gloves were for the hands not under the helmet, unless you got your hands stuck in your helmet when you were putting it on. But if you did you couldn’t drive the quad bike so you wouldn’t need the gloves.

We set off, across the dry riverbed following a route laid out by Hollie some time ago, I think. The whole trip was a fantastic experience. After the drive down the riverbed, we powered through some muddy bits (see why we had over trousers now) and then, incredibly, we went into a rain forest. We had to go a lot slower here because sliding wide on a riverbed is less serious than smashing into a tree. At various points along the way we stopped and Hollie explained something but it was in the forest that we found out most. She showed us the punga tree and another one that tastes of pepper.

She really knew her stuff and could explain many things and not just give you the crap some tour guides do. That reminds me, she also told us about the plant called Bushman’s Friend, the leaves of which you can use instead of toilet paper. Finally, we came out of the forest and back to the riverbed. On the dry, I had another chance for a bit of speed before we were back at the garage. It was a superb day and really enjoyable. At the very end, Hollie hosed me down because my driving had resulted in a small amount of mud covering my over-clothes.

While driving around this part of New Zealand, I saw a sight which explained why so many houses are made of wood. Now I know that, at least in the early days, the first European settlers and the Maori before them, had so much wood available it seemed silly to use anything else but even now wooden properties are far more numerous than any that are brick-built. But the other advantage of wooden houses, with little or no foundations, is that they are pretty easy to pick up and move. This is the ultimate mobile home.

And now for your second culinary treat, from a great height. With the promise of food, I agreed to another 450 metre Gondola ascent and, as it was dark, I couldn’t even go to the luge. But our meal in the Gondola restaurant more than made up for it. They found us a table near the window but, even in the dark, I sat on the inside seat. However, I must say the view down to the twinkling lights of Queenstown was pretty good. It is a buffet service and once you have been shown to your table, you just wander over to the food and pick what you want.

With no waiter/waitress service, it is therefore important that the food is well-presented and, if you need help, there is someone there to advise you. Skyline restaurants did not let us down here and, on top of that, the choice was vast and the actual food magic. I think all of this going up and down in a gondola is getting to me. “They didn’t let us down” and “on top of that”, are definitely uplifting phrases.

The whole experience was superb; I even managed to forget about the trip back down again, well nearly. The setting for the restaurant is obviously unique in Queenstown and in the summer, I think, they also open for lunches. I cannot imagine a better view while you enjoy the cuisine and take in the surrounding beauty. At night the beauty of the scenery may not be so visible but everything else is and many thanks to the staff for letting us experience it.

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