catlins Archives - Burning the Map

December 18, 2018December 16, 2018

Zack & Hannah’s Visit Pt. 3

Day 6 – 1 in 100 in Milford

We forgot to buy coffee at the grocery store. This was a grievous error.

We were out of bed by 6am, on the bus out to Milford Sound by 6:30am and Zack and Hannah were caffeineless. Danger.

The drive out was actually pretty hilarious because they took like 4 separate naps.

Ethan, our driver, was giving us a commentary on the ride and they missed the majority of that.

We were extremely lucky with the weather we were getting though. We made a pit stop at Mirror Lakes because the conditions were perfect. Such still water, the reflection was pristine.

We also passed by Lake Gunn, which looked even better. Unfortunately, we didn’t stop. I regret not asking him to pull over. It would’ve been an epic picture as the water was reflecting the snow-capped mountains in perfect symmetry. The golden light of the morning also gave an amazing contrast to the blue of the sky and the white of the snow. Man, what a scene.

Next, we pulled off to the side of the road where there was a Kea waiting for us. A kea is an alpine parrot species that’s become a somewhat pesky critter since tourists have been feeding them. They’re pretty cute the way they hop around though.

This one was familiar with Ethan apparently. It greeted everyone kindly, apart from Zack. It didn’t like the cut of his jib I guess and ended up biting his toe. Lolz.

This did not have a lasting effect on Zack as he went back to sleep when we boarded the van again.

After another 20-30 minutes drive we got to Deep Water Basin, where our kayak trip was launching.

Two consecutive days on the water was going to be epic. And the weather was even better than the previous day somehow. That’s really saying something because they get like 200 some days of rain in Milford Sound.

We met our guide, Mossimo, and got outfitted with gear.

The good news: GoPros would be in action.
The bad news: the sandflies were absolutely everywhere and eating us to bits.

Once we were on the water it was alright but it was straight brutal beforehand.

Everybody else was coupled up, so I got paired with the only other single person – a girl from Slovakia named Makayla. Our boat fucking killed it too. I was steering in the back and we were in perfect synch. A decent amount of our day was spent waiting for some of the stragglers to catch up.

The water was abnormally calm for the first part of the day and the scenery was epic. It really was a redemption song from my first experience.

About an hour into the paddling, Hannah seemed like she was hitting a wall. Hunger and a lack of coffee was getting the better of her. I looked over at one point and she was draped over the kayak. Seemed dead.

It was a little bit of a stop and start situation again because there was one couple that was always lagging behind. We also had to cross a few boat channels which meant rounding up the group. Honestly, in terms of distance we didn’t make it all that far into the sound. If given the opportunity, I think Makayla and I could’ve seen a decent amount more.

As the afternoon went on, the wind picked up and the water got more choppy.

The rocky beach where we had lunch was an awesome spot though. Hannah was happy once she satisfied the food and caffeine-shaped hole in her stomach.

For as beautiful as the scenery was, the sandflies were nearly intolerable during lunch. I think they’re particularly fond of Western blood because Zack and I were getting demolished. They really should’ve supplied some spray.

Our spot was quickly disappearing as the tide was coming in so we finished eating and got back out there. It wasn’t too far to paddle back to base.

Before we went to shore Mossimo told us the Maori legend of how Milford Sound was created. Kind of a fun tale if you care to read it.

I really enjoyed our time on the water. I’m a big fan of kayaking and rafting in general. With this scenery too, it was hard to be mad.

We shed our gear and then Ethan picked us up to drive us back to Te Anau. We made a few other brief stops on the return.

The Road to Te Anau
Lake Gunn in the Afternoon
The Chasm

It was a long day of being out but a sweet experience. With the extra stops and guiding, we felt like we got more than we paid for which was cool. Ethan did pretty well on tips too, so we joked that the beers were on him.

When we got back, we checked into our new room together (with a bed for me!) and showered up.

We ventured out into the burgeoning metropolis of Te Anau for a meal. Of course, we ran into Ethan at the restaurant. There was a wait for a table so he invited us to join him and a Swedish guy who was on his tour the day before us.

Amazing happenstance. Getting to know both of them was hilarious.

Ethan was like 24 but had been a sponsored BMXer, the skipper of a Marlin charter boat and a gold miner in Canada. He was also a ladies man with some comical stories. For example, he told us how he had a crush on this girl but ended up hooking up with her Mom when he was younger. Those days are apparently behind him now. He said he was ready to settle down and find a long-term relationship.

“Yeah. I’m the kind of guy you can bring home to Mom…Please bring me home to your Mom.”
-Nate Impersonating Ethan

Peter was a behavioral scientist for animals, working at various zoos and sometimes traveling the world as a keynote speaker.

We went to the “hip” bar for a final round. Ethan responsibly left first since he had another tour in the morning and then we parted ways with Peter. Another great evening.

Day 7 – The Imbalanced Ratio of Driving vs Stopping

We weren’t in a hurry in the morning, but we knew we had a long time on the road.

Our plan was to do what I had done a week prior and drive south through the Catlins to see some of the sights on our way to Dunedin. Only this time without the flooding.

It was roughly 5hrs of driving, not including stops. We had the key ones picked out.

After breakfast, we pushed off on our first leg of the trip — a somewhat plain drive through Invercargill (stop to pee) and onto Curio Bay.

Three hours later, we had arrived. Unfortunately, we couldn’t see any of the wildlife around but it was a solid vista. It was only a brief stop before we were onto the next.

Then after another 45 minutes and some car sickness, we made it to our second stop — Purakaunui Falls. It was a short walk to one of the more unique ones I’ve seen.

It was about another hour or so to Nugget Point. We had a solid chat about the healthcare system in America before we arrived.

It was a 40 minute return walk to the lighthouse that had some unique cone-shaped rocks just off the coast.

Got back in the car. Roughly another hour long drive to Dunedin.
Pit stopped near Balclutha to refuel and pee.
Some more car naps.
I was fading.
Bland scenery? Unusual for New Zealand. At least we didn’t have to ford any floods.
It felt a lot later than it was.

At long last, we entered the Dunedin city limits.

We stayed outside of the city center at an AirBnB that was situated on a hill overlooking everything. It had a pretty awesome view.

The host was out when we arrived so we let ourselves in and got comfortable.

There was a debate on whether we should just make food and relax there or venture into the city.

The energy level was low.

I tried to encourage going to see some sites since they might never be back. That won out in the end and we had a pretty awesome dinner, featuring tasty pasta dishes and a full liter of wine. A full liter.

We met our host briefly when we returned. It was basically to set up our breakfast time for the morning.

Day 8 – The Swan Song

The Airbnb reviews really talked up Georgina (the host).

She provided some muesli and toast for us. She was definitely the chatty grandmother type. I think we left like a good 30-45 minutes later than we would have since she got on a roll.

It was good. Apart from the drunk shitheads in Queenstown and playboy Ethan, Zack and Hannah hadn’t had much of a chance to connect with a local.

She made some recommendations of places to stop on our drive up to Christchurch. It was another long day in the car. We had to get back at a certain point to drop off the rental as well.

We did pull off to see the Moeraki Rocks, do a quick drive by of the Oamaru steampunk museum and grab lunch but I don’t remember too much else.

Car naps? Oh, mos definitely.

We made it to our final destination a little before 4pm. We hustled to unload our things so we could knock out the airport excursion and get into Christchurch to explore.

Again, the 12 year old girls took a while to process our return (we’ve come full circle) but it got done and we caught the bus downtown.

I showed them the main highlights I’d seen – New Regent St, Cathedral Square, the Bridge of Remembrance and a few of the shopping streets.

We went to an “upmarket food court,” as a shop owner described it, for dinner. It was a large building with a ton of tasty looking restaurants all side by side.

I went HAAM on my last meal in New Zealand. A huge plate of seafood fried rice, some sushi and a big boy beer.

We decided it’d be a nice trip finale to go have a drink at one of the cool spots we’d seen on New Regent St.

We chose The Last Word, which looked like a vibey whisky bar. After a drink there, we were like why the hell not and went to The Institution across the street. They were both divey bars with a good selection and fun decor.

We had a comfy time on some couches finishing that beverage. Then the question of what we were doing next came up. Well damn. I’m usually not one to derail a night out but I had to leave a 4am to head to the airport. It was already 10:30pm and I still had to repack my things. The intelligent part of my brain said we should probably go back. I was up for whatever, so let the other two decide.

Hannah felt like staying out so we went back to The Last Word to have the last word.

I just thought of that.

I’m glad we did. Zack and I got in a giggle fit about how introverts could meet other introverts and get in a relationship without saying anything to one another.

It was an excellent way to finish off our time together, and my trip as a whole.

We Uber’d back to our…hotel room? It was a unique, boutique type accommodation with a bit of a weird vibe if I’m being honest.

The three of us destroyed our room rearranging all of our belongings. We said our fond farewells.

I got less than 2 hours of sleep. Thankfully, I woke up to my alarm and met my taxi.

After 3 months of living in New Zealand, I hopped on a 6am flight to Australia.

I was leaving what had become familiar territory to start a new chapter of this travel adventure. Mixed feelings that I’m only just now processing.

The incredible thing, is that I somehow only ended up with this single 10¢ coin.

I’d say my experience was worth a whole lot more, but an overall rating of 10 wouldn’t be too far off.

December 7, 2018December 7, 2018

Fording

Pop some popcorn. I’m going to take you on a word adventure.

My journey up to Dunedin was brutal, you guys. I think I ran the gamut for vehicular challenges encountered.

My goal was to have a nice drive along the south coast with a few pit stops in key areas. The weather was shitty, but I was hoping it would turn good when I got to the eastern part of the South Island.

It didn’t.

[This has definitely become a blog complaining about the weather.]

I cruised through Invercargill and headed for a recommended spot – Waipapa Point. There was a lighthouse and shit.

As I arrived, it was, of course, raining but the wind was insane. It was blowing the car sideways at times. I got out and did a quick walk up to the lookout. Unfortunately, the view didn’t outweigh the unpleasantness of the elements. I decided to keep driving and just get the flavor of some spots from the car.

Waipapa Point Westher

I was almost all the way through the “Southern Scenic Route” before i had to turn around because of a road in flood. There was so much rain that rivers were spilling over onto main roads. I tried to troubleshoot the way around with another set of travelers. No luck. I spent a half hour on the phone with various NZ services trying to get information about additional flooding and alternate routes. I didn’t have any more cellular data and there was spotty reception anyway. It was a part of the country with a bunch of small gravel roads, so GPS wasn’t much help either.

Flood at Papatowai

I wasn’t given any useful info from the transit authority or council. I looked at a map and sorted out some possible options. The first few were a bust — I encountered several more impassable roads and a fallen tree obstructing another way. I tried to pull the branches apart for a bit and make a path. It looked like a car had somehow gone partially over it recently. In attempting to drive on the “shoulder” to pass it, my car got stuck in the mud. Thankfully I was able to reverse and get out. Close call.

I had to back track an hour and a half to find what I thought would be a reliable main road. I mean, look how close I was to being through it. Because of the extra winding, weaving and retracing, my fuel tank was on empty. I had a partially flat tire to boot and only a donut in the boot (trunk).

After adding 3+ hours of driving onto my day, I thought I was in the clear and bound for a late arrival at my destination, but an arrival nonetheless.

I came upon another flood just outside of Balclutha. It seemed small enough to drive through if I went on the wrong side of the road.

Success.

It was dark by now, and the relief I felt when I got on the main highway was quickly evaporating. The stress was creeping back in. There were no other roads I could use to circumvent any more blockages.

Then I came upon a road crew stopping traffic. To the right, I noticed somebody’s house under several feet of water. That fucking sucks. There were people trying to help move the water but…where was it going to go?

That’s when I noticed what was in front of me. Major water flowing across the road. This was the last main township before Dunedin. I was so close. Please.

One of the crew motioned me up to him. I thought I’d reached the end of the line.

He said my car would probably make it through alright, I just had to go slow. They were only letting through one person at a time so the water didn’t wake and splash up onto peoples engines.

It must’ve been just over ankle deep and my car was not tall. I didn’t see much of a current though, so that was a silver lining.

Two cars came through from the other way and it was my turn to ease through it. High anxiety.

With the depth of the water and darkness, I couldn’t make out the lines on the road. I was instructed to hug the high side but I couldn’t tell what was what or where it ended. Holy shit.

I turned a slow corner, spewing water from both sides and saw the other part the road block. Phew.

I came up the unintended boat ramp and wiped the flop sweat off my forehead. I waved politely and ventured on.

I’d barely gotten back up to speed when I saw yet another flood ahead. This one seemed deeper and with more of a current. There was no road crew ushering people through or to give advice here.

I’d made it this far and figured they wouldn’t be letting people through at the other checkpoint if it was dangerous. I slowed down and drove into it.

Once again, no road markings. No lights or markers in the distance giving me an idea of what line to take or direction to maintain. Occasional water splashing up onto the hood. The fan belt screeching from getting wet — and being a bit loose and shitty, but that was a separate problem.

I was moments away from fully freaking out. It was starting to rain again and the windshield was fogging and the wipers were being temperamental. I noticed, again, that my fuel gauge was bordering on ‘E’. What other issues could there possibly be? Was some sort of ancient river monster going to swim up and swallow me whole? In that moment, I might’ve welcomed that.

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention it was my birthday. Sweet. The beer was somewhere in the distance. I was determined to get there.

Finally, I saw some reflectors up ahead. I stayed on track and made it through ford number three? Seven? Twelve? Lost count. But thanks, Oregon Trail, for all of the practice as a youth. Couldn’t have done it without you.

The low fuel light came on again, so I pulled over in the next “locality” to fill up.

It was a small town, so all the shops were closed. They have single pay stations, as opposed to the pay-at-the-pump options like we have back home. Even though I did this procedure earlier in the day, it was refusing my card. I selected credit but it was requiring a pin. I selected checking but still declined. “Techmology – is it good or is it whack?”

I had no choice but to keep going. I fired up my GPS to check how far away I was. 32 miles. That seemed pretty sketchy to ride on empty.

A few miles later, I came through another small town. There was somebody filling up at this station too. Good deal. Maybe this payment system would be different.

As I pulled in, the other person was getting back in their car. I ran through the whole process and my card got declined again. Fuck. I had to stop the person from driving off to ask if they could use their card in exchange for cash.

The guy was like, “I’ll have to transfer money over. The most I could do is $20.”
“Whatever you’re comfortable with. Will $10 get me to Dunedin?”
“It should get you there.”
“K.”

Holy S. $10 equated to a little over 4 liters, which is barely a gallon of gas.

It proved to be enough. The light came on again as I entered into the sleepy city center of Dunedin. It was 10:30pm. About 12 hours of problem solving had gotten me here.

My hostels reception desk was at the bar of the downstairs pool hall. I ordered a shot of whiskey while checking in. Two birds.

I hurriedly dropped my bags in my room and b-lined for the nearest bar. I realized I forgot my passport and usually they don’t accept a foreign drivers license as an ID. I almost turned around to give up but said fuck it and waltzed up to the place. No door man, thankfully.

I snagged a stool and a pint. Victory sip.

Then some incredibly gregarious, old Danish man started chatting me up when he saw I was left handed. After telling me why we were sinister, he asked to see my tattoos, asked if I was a numberphile and gave me all of his contacts so he could give me Danish lessons via email (without being prompted).

It worked out in the end because he had a cool, also tatted coworker who bought a round of scotch for my birthday. Gorm followed that up with a round of 22 year old Balvenie aged in Portwood – $28 per taste.

Deece.

We closed the place down and then I got invited back to have hot chocolate + cookies and watch Al Jazeera…at 2am.

I’ve always got time for the news.

Not really. But I did that night.

And that is the story of my 32nd birthday. Highs and lows. Life and death. Sinister and scotch. Hot chocolate and the news. I’ll take it.