Sights and Sound of Milford

Thursday, October 23
South Island: Milford Sound

Thursday began before 6 a.m. for us. Groggy, we were picked up by a taxi at 6:30 and taken into town in order to catch the bus that was to take us to Milford Sound for the day. The sun was just painting the mountains pink as we boarded our Milford Select bus and hit the road.

Milford Sound (really not even aptly named, as it’s actually a fjord – or fiord as the kiwis spell it – and not a sound at all) is New Zealand’s most well-known tourist destination. It’s a gorgeous fjord on the west coast of the country that you can sail through on ferry boats or hike around, rain or shine. Mostly, it’s rain, as Milford sees upwards of 6,500 mm of rain per year. Our bus driver actually told us that the Sound sees less than 150 rain-free days per year.

Somehow, we had managed to hit one of these 150 days. By the time we were nearing the town of Te Anau to pick up some more passengers, the sky was turning a pale blue as the sun continued climbing. We stopped for a brief lunch in Te Anau, and then hit the Milford Road.

The Milford Road winds through Fiordland National Park, one of the most stunning bits of rugged New Zealand country and coast. Our bus driver regaled us with local stories and legends of the area as we traveled, and kept wondering at our good fortune with the weather. He said it had been a long time since he’d taken a group out on a such a perfect, sunny day. Somehow, our luck was holding out once again.

We stopped at the Mirror Lakes not long after Te Anau, where the mountains are (on good days) reflected perfectly in a handful of still ponds. The fog from the morning hadn’t completely lifted from the little valley when we arrived, however, so the true beauty of the Mirror Lakes was perhaps lost on us.

Our bus wound in and around increasing amounts of mountains, some made of ridiculously tough stone that had been carved out by glaciers. Most of them in this part of the country were still snow-capped, and therefore rather dazzling in the morning sunlight.

Our driver stopped a few times to point out mountain streams and waterfalls, great views, and even some kea birds – the world’s only alpine parrots – in the Hollyford Valley.

We also stopped at a little stream, where our driver encouraged us to fill up our water bottles with what he called the clearest, purest mountain-stream water. Andrea, despite her freakout at the Pinnacles when Jamie had dipped into a clear stream, filled her water bottle with the ice-cold water. Jamie and I each scooped up a handful, and I’ll agree that it was delicious. Our driver told us there was a legend that anyone who drank from that stream would live to be 102, so I’m holding him to that.

Getting to Milford Sound took nearly five hours, and I think we were all fairly thankful to stretch our legs and set eyes upon the famous Mitre Peak at the head of the sound. We were encouraged to take a short walk up into the nearby hills for a good view before our boat was set to sail.

Half an hour later, we were boarding the small, relatively uncrowded Milford Adventurer. Andrea, Jamie and I headed straight for the bow of the boat, and were warned that we stood a chance of getting wet on the way out thanks to a rather strong wind that was blowing inland. I didn’t really care, but as soon as we got underway and the spray starting flying, Andrea and Jamie retreated indoors.

I staying out front for a good portion of the ride out, chatting with a few other study abroad students from Christchurch. We marveled at the mountain waterfalls, and the lush, green rainforests that clung to the sides of the sound. One of the boat crew told us that, on rainy days, the mountains are just covered in waterfalls plunging into the Sound. I could imagine that being pretty spectacular, too, though I was secretly really glad for dry conditions.

We passed by Bowen Falls (one of the waterfalls that’s always present in Milford, no matter the weather), saw a few seals sunning themselves on a rock, and were taken virtually right underneath Stirling Falls. We got a bit damp, but I really didn’t mind too much.

Our cruise through the Sound lasted about an hour and a half, and I suppose I can understand why it’s such a popular destination. However, nothing could compare to what we were about to do next…

On our way to the Sound, our bus driver had mentioned that the other transportation option to and from Milford was by scenic flight – either by plane or helicopter. He quoted prices (which were pretty outrageous – over $500 for some of them), but then mentioned that if he got enough interest for the ride back, he could probably talk to price down considerably with Glenorchy Air.

Jamie, Andrea and I hadn’t really even considered this option, until, right as we disembarked our cruise, he told us that he could get us a flight back for under $200. I know that sounds like a lot, but the price coupled with the perfect day made it sound very appealing. Plus, it meant we didn’t have to ride five hours back the way we’d come on a tour bus. We decided to throw our bank accounts to the wind, and sign up for the “flightseeing” tour.

We were dropped off at the Milford airport, which was so miniscule that I don’t think it can really be considered an airport at all. It consisted of one short runway, and a collection of small fixed-wing planes. It was into one of these (a Cherokee SIX 300, to be exact) that we were soon clambering, along with a young mother and her two kids. Jamie got to sit up front with the pilot, with Andrea and I right behind her and the family in the back. And that was the small plane’s full capacity – 7 people, two of them being kids. I’ve never been in a plane so tiny; it was both exciting and terrifying at the same time. The terrifying factor was probably compounded by the life vests we were required to wear, too…

Once we got into the air, our flight was nothing short of breathtaking. The course our pilot took flew us right over top of the Sound to begin with, and then looped back around over the Southern Alps for most of the flight. The snow-capped peaks were dazzling in the afternoon sunlight, and you could see literally for miles – miles and miles of mountains. I fell in love with New Zealand all over.

We flew over crystal-clear mountain lakes, and even past a waterfall – Browne Falls – high up in the range. It’s actually the tenth-tallest waterfall in the world, and I still have a hard time believing we were lucky enough to see it. Actually, I have a hard time believing we actually took this perfect, gorgeous flight at all. As we sailed above the silent peaks, I found myself realizing how much my helicopter ride the day before paled in comparison.

After perhaps half an hour of coasting over the mountains, one end of long, serpentine Lake Wakatipu came into view. It was a deep, royal blue beneath the plane, and none of us could stop snapping pictures. The whole flight, Andrea and I would swap cameras every few minutes, in order to get shots on both sides of the plane.

We eventually glided over Queenstown itself, and touched down at the small airport. We took some photos outside the plane, and thanked our Glenorchy Air pilot thoroughly. To this day, I quote this flight as possibly my favorite experience in New Zealand. It was beyond amazing, and I wish I was a talented enough writer to properly capture it.

A shuttle took us back into town, and, since we were back roughly four hours earlier than we had anticipated, we decided to do a little souvenir shopping. We hit up all the little souvenir stores we could find – and, let me tell you, there are more than a few in Queenstown – and picked up some things for ourselves and others. I realized how close we were getting to the end as I bought some last gifts for friends and family, and realized just how much I’d done since July. The time had flown, and I had been lucky enough to do far more than I ever imagined.

We grabbed dinner at Winnie’s again, and then Jamie hit up an Internet café while Andrea and I went to check out the newly re-opened Lord of the Rings shop located on the main street. I picked up one or two things there and chatted with the guy working the cash register briefly, before we met Jamie again to catch the hotel shuttle. It was an early night for us once again, with a bit of New Zealand TV thrown in for good measure. Oh, how I miss NZ TV sometimes…

Thrillseeking in NZ's Adventure Capital.

Wednesday, October 22
South Island: Queenstown

We were up extra early the next morning in order to catch the shuttle into town for our early-morning jetboat ride down the Shotover River. We had to meet at The Station – the hub in Queenstown for all things adventure sports – in order to get bussed to the river (which, coincidentally, ran basically right past our hotel). It was a chilly, clear morning, and we were almost happy to receive our ridiculous raincoats and life vests before we boarded our boat.

A jetboat, in case you’re wondering, works almost like I’d expect a hover craft to work. It zips really fast down the river, skimming along the top of the water at ridiculous speeds. Our driver was fun and delivered a thrilling ride – 360-degree turns, taking curves at breakneck speed, and coming dangerously close to the Shotover Canyon walls. We were definitely glad that we had paid a little extra for the Shotover Jet – it was well worth it. And, to top it all off, the handrails on the boats were heated, which helped take a little of the bite out of the ride.

Following our exhilarating wake-up ride, we took some photos by the river, and then it was time for my helicopter ride. Jamie and Andrea walked back to the hotel, and were going to meet me back in town. I boarded another bus with three others, and we were driven up Coronet Peak. The mountain is used as one of Queenstown’s ski fields in the winter months, and also as a taking-off point for a lot of the helicopter tours that pan over the city.

Since I was by myself, I got to sit up front in the chopper, right in front of the control panel next to the pilot. Taking off was a lot different than I was expecting it to be. It’s not at all like taking off in a plane, where you can feel yourself being pushed back into your seat as it accelerates. Taking off in a helicopter feels almost like floating… you’re on the ground one second, and the next you’re hovering feet above it and banking toward the mountains. It’s a loud experience – we all had to wear earphones – but amazing all the same.

Our first stop was the Queenstown Gondola (where the girls and I had had our adventure the afternoon before) to drop one of the passengers off. Coming in to land was almost as fun as taking off; the pilot had a small little square of concrete to set the chopper down on.

After our quick stop, it was over Lake Wakatipu and into the Remarkables. We landed above where the winter ski fields are, at 1538 meters. There was still snow up there, and the city of Queenstown was nothing more than a tiny collection of dollhouses laid out at the foot of the mountains.

We stayed in the mountains for a short while, taking in the birds-eye view, and then headed back down to the Queenstown airport. We thanked our pilot, and then caught a shuttle back to The Station. Andrea and Jamie were already waiting for me there, checking out other exciting things to do. Drebo really wanted to go both parasailing and river surfing. I decided I could spare another $70 to do the parasailing with her, but she signed up for river surfing that afternoon by herself. (River surfing is basically what it sounds like… You get a boogie-board type thing, and float down a river of rapids. Not exactly my idea of a good time.)

We all headed down to the lake front in time for our parasailing. Andrea and I felt bad leaving Jamie out, but she assured us that she’d be back to do it with Adam in a few weeks. Plus, her being on the ground meant that she could be our photographer.

Andrea and I hopped the parasailing boat, which was manned by two younger kiwi guys and their excitable dog. They strapped Andrea and me into our harnesses, and before we knew it, we were going up, up, up into the clear sky above Lake Wakatipu beneath our large smiley face parachute. The sun rose higher in the sky as we were pulled along behind the boat, but it was still a chilly ride. There was one instance where we dipped so close to the water that I thought we were going in, which amused Andrea a bit. I still stand beside my fear – that water would have been freezing!

After we got back to the dock, we headed back into town to find some lunch. We decided on Winnie’s, possibly my favorite discovery in Queenstown. It’s a pizza place, essentially, but it’s set up like a ski lodge complete with retractable roof, and their pizza is thin-crusted, wood-fired, and delicious. We ordered a large “Americana” (basically a pepperoni pizza) and sat ourselves down right next to the fireplace. My fingers were numb after being above the river so long, and the heat felt amazing.

Andrea headed back to The Station after lunch in order to do her river surfing, and Jamie and I decided to make use of our free time and our last afternoon with our rental car. We ended up driving about half an hour to Arrowtown, a quaint little mining town that is famous for being just what it is.

The afternoon was sunny, and Jamie and I just walked the streets of Arrowtown, snapping photos and taking it all in. We stopped in a photography shop, and also Patagonia Chocolates to pick up a snack and a post-surfing treat for Andrea.

We drove back to Queenstown via a different road, which took us past Lake Hayes and eventually to the airport, where we had to turn in the rental car. Jamie and I hung around at the tiny airport until we could catch a bus back into town. Once we got there, we had some time to kill before Andrea was due to get back, so we took a stroll along the shore, where a lot of people had the same idea as us.

Queenstown has such a great, eclectic atmosphere, especially considering its tiny size. We saw a conglomeration of tourists – since they’re who really make Queenstown the resort town that it is – and didn’t mind fitting into that category ourselves for once. Sometimes, I have no shame in being a camera-toting tourist.

We met an exhausted Andrea back at The Station around 6, and decided we could all benefit from a relaxing night in after our various adventures. We settled on getting take-out from Fergburger (basically the most delicious burger place in the entire world), and catching the free shuttle back to our hotel to lounge around, share our stories, and watch TV.

Going to bed early in preparation for an early start the next morning was – needless to say – not a problem for us at all.

On the road again. To Queenstown.

Tuesday, October 21
South Island: Invercargill, Bluff, to Queenstown

We woke early on Tuesday to an overcast sky, and went over to the farm house for breakfast. The kitchen also smelled like wet cat, and the situation was only worsened when our hostess – a friendly plump lady with a name like Jane or June – informed us that most of the food we were eating (the sausages, the eggs, the bacon) came to us “care of the farm animals.”

Our hostess was nice, though, and chatted with us about travelling and school and all the usual topics. When she went to take care of our payment, Jamie and I convinced Andrea that she should try some Vegemite. Andrea had never heard of it before, which was good because, if she had, she would have known to avoid it. It must be an acquired taste that only those from Australia and New Zealand have. Andrea spread a good-sized glob on a piece of toast, and proceeded to gag for about five minutes after taking a hefty bite. Jamie and I, needless to say, found this very amusing.

After breakfast, we packed up our things and headed out of Invercargill. Since we’d gotten lost the night before, we hadn’t driven to the town of Bluff like we’d originally planned. So we headed south out of the city.

The drive to Bluff – “where the highway starts” – only took about 20 minutes. It’s the southern-most city in New Zealand, if you don’t count the small towns located on Stewart Island (which, most people don’t). It rained on our way into town, but, as seemed to be our luck for the past few days, the clouds parted once we reached our destination.


We hit the International Sign Post first, which is fairly self-explanatory. It’s a yellow signpost at Stirling Point, with various signs pointing in different directions, giving the distances to well-known places and cities. We were over 15,000 kilometers away from New York City, nearly 19,000 kilometers from London, a little over 5,000 kilometers away from the equator, and 4,800 kilometers from the south pole. It was cool knowing both how far south I was, and also how very far away from home I had come.

Next we booked it to the top of Bluff Hill, which overlooks the town. On a clear day, you can catch a glimpse of Stewart Island from here, but all we saw were the incoming rain clouds. So we ran back to the car; it was too cold and early to get soaking wet.

On the way out of town, we stopped at the post office to pick up some postcards, and for Jamie to mail a few chocolate bars to her family. Then it was back through Invercargill (with a stop at the giant umbrella), and on to Queenstown.

Let me take this moment to make a brief side note about Invercargill – most New Zealanders seem to have something against the town. It’s almost like the West Virginia of New Zealand. The rest of the country makes fun of Invercargill accents, and the kinds of people who live there. But Jamie, Andrea and I were pleasantly surprised to find a pretty town with friendly people. So don’t believe the bad stuff you hear about it (if you ever do)!

The crappy weather in Invercargill had us worried about the rest of our trip; the weather forecasts since we’d left Wellington had been predicting rain, rain, and more rain for our whole trip, but we’d been relatively lucky so far (with the exception of Kaikoura). So we assumed that perhaps our luck was running out.

But it wasn’t.

It seemed that the storm system was confined just to the southern tip of the country, because, the further away we got, the clearer the skies became. Soon we were zooming along under a cloudless blue sky, with the Southern Alps rising, snow-capped, in the distance.

The gorgeous drive to Queenstown took a few hours, but I don’t think any of us minded the drive though the beautiful, mountain-bound farm country. The grass was green, the sun was shining, and it was a great day for driving.

We reached the southern shore of Lake Wakatipu (and the small town of Kingston) roughly an hour before we got to Queenstown. The lake, in the shape of a long, skinny “S,” has an interesting Maori legend behind it. I’ll give you the short version. The legend goes that a giant named Matau kidnapped the daughter of one of the local chiefs and ate her (or something like that). He laid down to sleep that night, and a brave youth from the tribe set him on fire, burning him where he lay. His outline formed the shape of Lake Wakatipu, which, in Maori, means “Hollow of the Giant.” Today, Glenorchy sits at Matau’s head, Queenstown on his knee, and Kingston at his feet. The waters of the lake rise and fall up to 12 centimeters every few minutes, and this is said to be caused by Matau’s still-beating heart. Cool, huh?

The last leg of our drive took us right along the edge of the long lake, with the mountains towering above us. I realize that the Southern Alps pale in comparison to other world mountain ranges, but, to a girl from flat Ohio, they look pretty impressive.

We got into the outskirts of Queenstown (Kelvin Heights) in the early afternoon, and decided, since the weather was nice, to head straight to Deer Park Heights. Deer Park Heights is a combination farm, lookout, and “Lord of the Rings” filming location site. I was there the last time I was in New Zealand, and knew the views would be worth the $20 per car entry fee.

We paid our twenty bucks and began winding our way up the small mountain. We ran into some alpacas and deer right away, and stopped to both try to pet them and to take in the view over Queenstown. While we stood there, an older couple was driving down the mountain, and gave us their tin of animal food. We put it to good use, bribing the deer to come closer.

We spent a few hours on the mountain, stopping at all the lookouts with amazing views, and feeding all sorts of animals. I even made Andrea and Jamie hang off of “Aragorn’s Cliff,” just because it makes a good photo, even if you don’t know anything about “Lord of the Rings.” I also took them further up on the mountain, where, on a day like that one, the Remarkables are reflected in clear water.

On the way back down, in the section where we were warned to stay in our car, I hopped out to pet and feed some friendly donkeys. As the car was stopped, about five or six curious, hungry donkeys crowded around the car and began sticking their shaggy heads in the window. It was adorable!

Further down, Andrea tried to chase some “reindeer” for a photo for her Christmas card (which she failed at), and tried to get rid of the rest of our animal feed by giving it to a friendly doe. The doe proceeded to slobber all over Andrea’s hand, which was hilarious.

We then drove into “downtown” Queenstown. I love Queenstown. I really do. It’s a small little resort town that only consists of a few major streets. But it’s so cute and quaint that you don’t focus on its small size too much. We stopped at the i-Site first of all, to grab some maps and to book some things for the next day. We booked the Shotover Jet for early the next morning, with me booking it in a combo with a helicopter ride up into the Remarkables.

Then it was on to check into our hotel and take a break from the car for a little while. We stayed at the Coronet Peak Hotel, which was located outside of the city near the Shotover Jet. The hotel is primarily a ski lodge, but, since it was the off-season for skiing, we got our room for a great price. There was even a free shuttle service for us to use if we wanted to.

After checking and settling in, we headed back into town. Since we didn’t have a concrete plan while in Queenstown and wanted to take advantage of the nice weather, we decided to go up the Skyline Gondola while it was still daylight.

We bought gondola tickets and passes for two luge rides. I’ve been up the Queenstown gondola before (it has GREAT views out over the mountains, lake, and city), but the luge wasn’t there three years ago. Basically what they’ve done is paved twisting tracks coming down a large hill. You get in a little plastic luge, and navigate down said tracks. It’s good, cheap fun.

Since we hadn’t had much of a lunch and Jamie needs fed at least seven times a day, we ordered some potato wedges at the bar before luging. For only five bucks, they were a great idea – and tasty, too! It sure beat the $60 buffet dinner we could have paid for with our gondola tickets.

After taking some photos of the town below us, we headed over to the luges. Everyone has to go down the “scenic” track on their first round, which is a slower, less curvy track. Andrea took off first, and I followed. Being slightly cautious, I was apparently going too slow for Jamie, who zoomed past me. I then rounded a corner in time to see her flipping head over heels and landing under a fence.
I nearly peed myself. Especially since she’d been the one asking “who could be stupid enough to actually flip these things?” Needless to say, Andrea and I did not let her live it down. We made her take photos by the “respect signs” sign, re-enact the event, and we even bought her a “luge accomplishment” certificate in the gift shop. Oh, good times.

On our way out, we wanted to get a photo in front of the sign, with Andrea and I making a thumbs up under the “gondola” and “restaurant” bits, and Jamie giving the “luge” portion a thumbs down. We flagged down a group of older people to take the photo, and, lo and behold, found out that they, too, were Ohioans! What a small, small world. They were making a journey similar to ours through the south – except in reverse. They were headed to Invercargill and Dunedin next, so we gave them suggestions on things to see. It’s so random to meet so many Ohioans abroad. Our state sucks, apparently.

We then drove back into town, and took a walk along the Lake Wakatipu beach. Doing so brought back memories of my last time in Queenstown, and I pointed out the tree I had climbed with one of my tourmates. Jamie and Andrea naturally decided that they needed to climb it. This was a hilarious ordeal in itself.

Once they were both up in the tree, a busload of Asian tourist pulled up. “Asians!” I warned them. “You’d better get down, or they’re going to take pictures of you!” Andrea didn’t believe me. But, not three minutes later, and she’d had roughly four photos taken of her. Ah, I hate it when people live up to stereotypes!

Somehow we still had time left in our day, and so decided to hit up a few souvenir stores before dark. Queenstown has a great variety of shops, all with relatively inexpensive souvenirs. We also visited a candy shop (The Remarkables Sweet Shop), where Andrea and Jamie tried some fudge and I bought psychedelic gummy snails. And yes, that’s actually what they were called.

We finally headed back to the hotel in the evening. We watched some TV and got ready for bed, knowing that we had to wake up extra early to catch the shuttle into town in time to get picked up for our jetboat ride. But 11 p.m. rolled around, and suddenly Andrea realized that she didn’t have her drawstring bag.

She began freaking out about it, and, once it wasn’t in the car, insisted that we drive back into town to look for it. It had all of her “important documents” in it, as well as her iPod, and she was very distraught about it. Jamie told her we could drive back, reassuring her that we’d find it. But as soon as Andrea was out of the room, she turned to me and said, “We are not finding that bag.” Oh, Jamie.

So we drove back to the beach. We were all in our pajamas, and I had my glasses on, which meant I couldn’t really see very well at that point in the night. Andrea flew out of the car, armed with Jamie’s cell phone as a flashlight, and began combing the pebble beach. Jamie went to talk to a security guard she spied, and I kind of moseyed along the low wall that separated the beach from the sidewalk, trying to think of where else Andrea could have left her bag.

I was about to track her down and tell her we’d be better off coming back in the morning when something caught my eye on the sidewalk side of the wall. I could barely see it in the moonlight, but the orange Adidas symbol on Andrea’s white and green bag caught my eye somehow. I scooped it up and called out to Andrea.

She was so excited that she nearly bowled me over. I told her not to get too excited until she checked to make sure everything was in there. Though, we were in New Zealand – of course everything was still in there.

We headed back to the hotel at last, and I had to help Jamie find her way back. Usually she’s good with directions, but it was late, dark, and she hadn’t really taken a good look at a map of the city. I joked that it was a good thing I’d come after all, otherwise Jamie would have been driving to Invercargill, and Andrea would have been slitting her wrists and looking for the nearest cliff.