(Pics still to come)
I finished my time in Nepal smiling a five dollar smile at the airport baggage man as I gave him more than twice my baggage allowance then flew my brain to another space, another place and another state of disarray. Coming home provided a greater sense of culture shock than I might have expected. Touching down with a feeling of biter sweet nostalgia; happy to be home and sad, in a way, to be writing the last lines in the story of Custard’s 1st World Tour.
Awesome to be catching up with family and friends. A lot of who were conveniently gathered at the world kayaking champs which was my first stop after getting off the plane. Unfortunately a tragedy marred end of the event when one of the competitors drowned while swimming in the river.
Next I went looking for a new home on wheels. Bought the second one I found, made a few modifications and started heading south. I followed an old path down the top island, stopping in at my sisters for Xmas before sailing across Cook Straight on a ship full of cows. Drove to Able Tasman National Park where Splitty (an old friend) has a sea kayak company. After paying my dues as a boat cleaner I went for a paddle to see some seals which was awesome. Got a bit nervous when the big daddy came to check out who was playing with the kids. The paddle back gave me tendonitis, which shagged plans for a quick return to white water. So I found myself at a bit of a loss with the rivers rising and the best I could do was be a shuttle bunny for others or sit in the pub drowning my sorrows.
The New Year started relatively uneventfully and I was comfortably unconscious less than two hours after it had begun. With my wrist still sore I decided to explore the Southern Westland by foot and in doing so, met a surgeon and GP husband and wife who, between them, gave me a full consultation and prescription for a months supply of anti-inflammatory on the back of a supermarket receipt. The pharmacist just laughed and asked his assistant if they had any broccoli and courgettes …. Got to love the West Coast.
All cured and I helicoptered into the hills and caught the last of the paddleable water draining from the Wanganui and the Perth rivers. Both awesome runs, especially the Perth with great company as well, three Canadians I’d met that day, who contributed to a magic day of boating and a day full of memories. A third white water tragedy in NZ this summer, a drowning on the high reaches of the Hokitika, thwarted plans to paddle the section below this the next day. I left the Coast feeling somber and sad, although I hadn’t known any of these people personally, they were kayakers and potential friends and it was a loss I felt heavily as did the whole kayaking community in New Zealand this summer.
A stop over in Franz Josef and the café chief and waitress who I’d earlier picked up as hitchhikers kindly had Karl (guy I was travelling with) and I wandering around on the Glacier for a day on a guided tour. We walked about 6km up the glacier which was only the tip of the iceberg, so to speak, but still plenty of ice caves and great big over-vertical ice pressure waves to get lost in, deep holes and crevasses and other amazing ice-scapes. Words couldn’t do it justice. It adds much to alpine adventure stories I’ve read in the past to actually walk around in this sort of environment.
Some rock climbing in Wanaka provided a further break from paddling and a chance to make a few new friends. Turned out they were old friends of an old friend (as it often does in NZ) and so it was that in payment for their hospitality they readily took the piss out of me and scared me up a few climbs that I might have otherwise thought twice about. A great few days before moving on to Queenstown from where low river flows caused me to head for the hills on foot again. Three days on the Kepler track in the famed Fiordland near Te Anau provided as much beauty and variety of scenery as I’d seen in two weeks of trekking in Nepal. Different scenery for sure but just as stunning and without crowds.
Through the Homer tunnel to Milford Sound. The tunnel is amazing if not a bit scary to drive through. Water gushes in from the unlined rock walls that stand as an impenetrable menacing darkness which seams to swallow the beams from your headlights and threaten to claw open the side of vehicles that stray too close. Hoped on a boat packed with tourists and checked out the sounds from the water. A bit touristy but I totally enjoyed it, an absolutely incredible place. The Sound has shear rocky peaks thrusting near vertically up to 1.6 km from the waterline and dropping to similar depths below. Hardy vegetation does an impressive job of clinging to the barren rock faces. All the rain we got turned to instant flood run-off and cascaded over bluffs in 150m waterfalls that looked tiny set against the massive backdrop. Made me appreciate NZ that much more.
Was still raining on the way out and the Hollyford River was rising. Looked a bit low still but it was frustrating not to be there with some other boaters on a river I'd always heard about but never had the opportunity to paddle. Was with a couple of tourists I’d met at Franz Josef who were not boaters and who had no appreciation of why I had more interest in watching the river than the road as I drove. Lost the tourists back in Queenstown the next day but not before we were rudely woken up early that morning by a man wanting our nice camping spot beside the lake for filming a Canadian beer commercial. Actually I decided it wasn’t that rude after I’d cunningly finished eating a full cooked breakfast and fresh coffee courtesy of the film crew.
Next, as Dunedin pulled in some cold wet southerly weather, Sid and Jen treated me to some fantastic hospitality at their place nearby in Port Chalmers. Sid and my kayaks got some good workouts in the surf where we also got to play with some Hectors dolphins (the worlds smallest and rarest) and got barked at by a big fishy-breath seal. While we were there I borrowed a sand-board and had a crack down the side of a big sand dune. What a rush, especially since I’ve never even tried snowboarding before.
With a bit more rain we got all psyched up and ran Dunedin’s in-city ditch that is a bit like a small version of the concrete drainage channel that Arnie rides a Harley through in Terminator II. A unique paddling experience.
Then a couple of days solitude down through the Catlins where I shared vast expanses of pristine beaches with just a few Sea Lions. They seemed quite relaxed and didn’t mind me sitting a few meters away to take pictures. Despite the fact they must weigh 200 to 300 kg and have only flippers they can outrun a person over the first 10 meters so I’m glad these ones were feeling friendly. I played with more Hectors dolphins and saw some Yellow Eyed Penguins (also very rare). What are we doing wrong to have so many endangered species? The sunset over Stewart Island was incredible. As the sun dropped low it lit up the blanket of cloud from underneath with an intense fiery orange, which gave the appearance of a huge inverted vat of molten iron. The colour slowly intensified to a deep crimson red before the sun finally made its exit.
A week in Christchurch with some friends doing a bit of paddling, climbing and trying my hand at surfing a malibu concluded my South Island jaunt and now I’m preparing to make for Switzerland where I have a job that I just need a permit for and a girlfriend called Claudia waiting for me. Thanks again to all those who travelled with me, housed me, feed me and entertained me on my passage through my homeland.
Love and Custard
Dave