It turned out to be a very smart move because in the afternoon we went white-water rafting, and to get to the starting point in the river you take the same road. Although we weren't driving it was a harrowing experience nonetheless. We were the last raft trip of the day and the driver had already been down the river 4 times, starting at 4AM. There was a mix-up about who needed to be picked up at the various hotels so we were running late and he was not pleased. Normally they take 2 vehicles, a bus and a van which tows the raft trailer, but because the bus could hold all of us they decided to tow the trailer with the bus.
We discovered the reason for disallowing rental cars; the road to Skipper's is a gravel 1 1/2 lane track carved into the mountainside, and there are no guard rails at all. A few times we encountered other vehicles; one was a returning bungy truck which we met on a hairpin turn and the driver had to lock up his brakes to avoid hitting us. I was delighted that we were returning on the river! Some people took the option to be helicoptered to the starting point, and should I ever get the chance to do it again, that is what I intend to do.
Each raft holds 8 passengers and the guide, and there were 4 rafts in our group. Our raft guide turned out to be the bus driver, a muscular Maori who identified himself only as Chief and who apparently is even more impervious to the cold than the average Kiwi. The water was definitely cold and we all were wearing full wetsuits but he wore just the wetsuit pants. At the start of the trip he explained the various paddle maneuvers: forward, backpaddle, left and right turns (for a left turn the paddlers on the right paddle forward and those on the left backpaddle). The most interesting maneuver is performed just before hitting the canyon wall; the paddlers away from the wall jump to the side of the raft toward the wall. The reason is that the water tries to push the raft up the wall and the maneuver prevents the raft from flipping.
The river trip took about 1 1/2 hours and the 1st half hour was uneventful, with only minor rapids, and we spent much of the time admiring the scenery, practicing maneuvers, and having water fights with the other rafts. It was here that we started to appreciate the skill of our guide. At one point we came to a right-hand bend in the river and the guide told us to figure out how to negotiate it. We figured a right turn was in order and we promptly crashed into the canyon wall (at least we jumped toward the wall so we didn't flip!). Later on our appreciation would develop into something approaching awe.
Surprisingly, you don't sit in the raft but on the sides of the raft. The first significant rapid was called Sharkfin, named because there is a large fin-shaped rock jutting from the middle of the river, with Jaws just beyond it. It was a pretty good drop and gave us our first taste of real rapids; better rapids were to come.
Rafts come in 2 varieties, self-bailing and manual bailing, and we of course had the manual bailing type. We took on some water at Sharkfin and Jaws but we quickly bailed it out. The next significant rapid was called Toilet, and it turned out to be an appropriate name; you don't ride it as much as you get flushed through it. The top of the rafts have ropes attached, and you hold on to these when the going gets rough, and we definitely had to hold on through this section. By the time we came to smooth water our raft was completely swamped, filled to the brim with water, and we spent about 15 minutes bailing.
The final and most dramatic rapid was the Tunnel. During the gold rush days miners carved a 250 ft long tunnel through a bend in the river. About 30 feet beyond the end of the tunnel the river suddenly drops about 10 feet in what is essentially a waterfall. The tunnel is dark, low, and narrow, and the guide told us that in order to turn only the backpaddling side was to paddle. About halfway down the tunnel the guide called for a left turn. I was on the right so I took no action, but most of the people on the left forgot that they were to backpaddle; instead they paddled forward which made things worse, and all of us on the right got smacked by the rough tunnel wall (fortunately we all had helmets so there was no harm done). The guide finally yelled out 'Backpaddle!' and we straightened out in time for the plunge. Many rafts tip over at this spot, and many passengers go airborne, but we all hung on and our guide got us through it in good shape. The front of the raft first drops down and then abruptly shoots skyward, and if we hadn't been hanging on we would have gone flying. There is a cameraman who takes several photos of each raft as they are plummeting, and the photos are available for viewing that evening. When we looked at the photos all the passengers were holding on for dear life but the guide never did, he just kept on steering with the paddle. Definitely one of the most exhilarating experiences one can ever have, and I'd do it again anytime without hesitation.
Ironically, while I was not at all apprehensive about the rafting and was definitely uneasy during the horse trek, Kathy had the opposite experience; she was worried about ending up in the river but wasn't the least bit nervous on her horse even when we were inches from a cliff.
We decided the most appropriate way to end the day was to dine in an establishment called Death by Chocolate; we survived, but we were near critical for awhile.
Queenstown is the best!
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Sunday, Nov 7: Queenstown to Te Anau
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The largest national park in New Zealand is Fiordland National Park. We allocated two days to explore its Milford and Doubtful Sounds so we drove to, and stayed in, Te Anau where both trips begin.
Te Anau was also where we stayed in another budget hotel, Explorer Motor Lodge, and like Blue Peaks, it was better than most of the standards. One unusual recreational device on the premises was a trampoline. I used to enjoy bouncing on trampolines in high school so I couldn't resist and climbed aboard; I also found out I'm not quite in the same shape I was in back then but I enjoyed it anyway.
This was our first 'tour bus' experience; it's possible to drive to Milford but since we'd been doing a lot of driving we decided to let someone else do it for a change, and for Doubtful you have no choice but to take a tour bus.
I'd always wondered whether travelling abroad as part of a tour group was a better way to go than travelling independently; maybe it is if you don't speak their language and they don't (or won't) speak yours, or you are unable to drive or backpack, but for me, driving yourself is by far the way to go. Yes, it's nice to be able to relax and watch the scenery, and the drivers give interesting commentaries during the trip and stop at interesting places, but it's crowded wherever you go since you stop where all the other buses stop, and I already mentioned my dislike of crowds. You also risk sharing the bus with passengers you'd prefer to avoid, and you can't sleep if you are tired because you get thrown from side to side at every turn in the road.
The road from Te Anau to Milford goes through the Homer Tunnel. This is basically a somewhat larger version of the tunnel we rafted through; rough, narrow, unlighted, and wet. Even though it was November (which in the northern hemisphere is the equivalent of May), avalanches were still a threat. Tour busses normally stop at Homer but not during avalanche season; the driver risks a stiff fine if caught. Kiwis are pretty cavalier about most things but avalanches are taken very seriously, and for good reason. The driver showed us an area which experienced a major avalanche which occurred a year or so ago which closed the road to Milford. Scientists estimate the wind blast reached 600 kph (over 300 mph), which hurled huge boulders out of a nearby stream and onto the road. Fortunately no one was on the road at the time. In fact, as we were heading back to Te Anau we witnessed an avalanche above Homer Tunnel. It was a small one high up on the mountain, but it adequately illustrated the danger.
At Milford we got on the Milford Haven, a vessel which cruised through Milford Sound to the Tasman Sea and back. All the 'fiordland' sounds are true fiords - valleys carved out of rock by glaciers. The sides are steep, with no soil whatever, yet are covered by forest. The reason this is possible is that this is one of the wettest places on earth, with something like 30 feet of rain per year. I was expecting to experience nothing but rain but to my surprise the weather was perfect, with mostly blue sky.
Periodically we would see evidence of a different type of avalanche, a tree avalanche. The tree roots are all intertwined, so if a tree comes loose it rips off all the trees below it. On the way to Milford there was not only evidence of the aforementioned snow avalanche but of a massive tree avalanche which occurred a few months before, and the devastation was amazing. The road remained closed for a week while the mess was cleared.
The major feature in Milford Sound is Mitre Peak, so named because it resembles a bishop's miter. It rises about a mile from the water surface, and the sound itself is about 1000 feet deep. However, there are animals to see as well; during our trip back we were briefly accompanied by 4 dolphins, and we saw several fur seals sunning themselves on rocks.
On the coach ride back the driver stopped at a place where we had stopped on the way out to study Mount Cook lilies (world's largest buttercup) because a passenger reported losing a pair of glasses. The passenger in question took a plane back to Queenstown but the driver promised to take a quick look. I assisted in the search but it was futile; the vegetation was very lush and the odds of finding them were extremely slight. (It's also possible the passenger just misplaced them and only thought he lost them there. The coach driver told us a story of how he was accused by some Japanese of taking a video camera case which they said they left on the bus; it turned out they had taken the case with them and left it on the boat.)
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The Doubtful Sound trip is actually 3 trips: a boat ride over lake Manapouri, a tour of a massive hydroelectric power station, and a boat ride through Doubtful itself.
Our luck with the weather finally ran out; the day started out cold, windy, and rainy; however, it cleared in the afternoon and gave us some added bonuses - waterfalls and rainbows. Unfortunately, our luck with passengers also ran out, and unlike the weather it didn't improve.
Orientals comprise a significant part of the tourist population; this is due partly to New Zealand's proximity to the Orient, and to the favorable exchange rates with many oriental countries. New Zealand welcomes tourists of all nationalities and many signs are written in several languages including Japanese, Chinese, and Korean. Nearly all Orientals we met were polite and respectful of others, but we encountered a group on this trip which were neither. (They were definitely not Japanese and I don't think they were Chinese or Korean either; one member of the group was wearing a jacket with Thailand written on it so they may have been Thai, but I spent a year in Thailand and they didn't sound or act Thai so I have no idea where they were from. |
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