Costs:

On my first day in Wellington I decided to heed the advice of several other travellers and visit the Te Papa museum. I'm not a museum fanatic and usually avoid visiting them but this museum was so highly regarded by other travellers that I decided to give it a go. For a free entrance you get 6 floors of exhibitions to roam around. To give you an idea of the size of the place I spent a whole day walking around and only managed to visit the first four floors.

The first floor is about New Zealand's flora and fauna. Most of the exhibitions concentrate on endemic or endangered animals emphasising the uniqueness and adaptation of birds living in a mammal free environment. There's also a section about the geology of the country, information on plate movements and other geological activities. The second floor hosts and exhibition of Fire, Water and Earth as well as Oceania and the forth floor is all about Maori culture.

The presentations in the exhibitions are very high tech. The traditional museum displays are usually supplemented by interactive games on touch screen monitors, sounds and video presentations. There are even specially designed exhibition rooms for the younger ones. The name of the museum "Te Papa" means "our" in Maori and it's something many people in Wellington are understandably proud of. I highly recommend a visit to this museum even if you're not the museum going type, after all there's nothing to lose by visiting.

The next activity of the day was a night tour to the Karori Wildlife Sanctuary in search of the kiwi bird. The tour started at 5pm and I was the only one on the tour so I had a personalised tour with Manito, the guide for the night. After a short drive from the city centre to the Sanctuary we went for a walk looking for some commonly sighted animals like the tuatara (the reptile I didn't see in Invercargill). I wasn’t lucky with the ancient reptile this time either, however we spotted some Tui (the bird not the beer), fan tails (the bird not the card game), the black teal (the bird not the colour) and the kaka (the bird not the Milan player). By the time we arrived at the Kaka feeding place it was already getting dark so it wasn't easy to discern the bright colours on the bird's feathers. The kaka is a nectar feeding bird and is one of the three birds that are artificially fed by the Sanctuary's helpers.

As soon as it turned dark we started our kiwi search by listening attentively for the male call. It didn't take long to hear the bird and after a while we even managed to see one foraging. I had an ass view of the kiwi which looks very similar to a hedgehog from behind. Unfortunately I didn't have time to snap a picture, even though I wouldn't have attempted the shot anyways to avoid startling the bird. This was the highlight of the trip and of the day. On our return we heard another kiwi call close by but we didn't manage to locate him.

While we where heading back to Wellington Manito explained how the Karori Sanctuary isn't controlled by the department of conservation (DOC) which means that there aren't government funds to help. On the positive side however this cuts on the bureaucracy of having to spend months to get approvals and to take decisions, so things can progress faster.

The sanctuary has been open for 7 years and the plan is laid out on 500 years. Two new species are introduced yearly and when a new species is being introduced a formal welcome ceremony is held by the Maori Chief. This illustrates the extent of the say the Maori still have in today's New Zealand.

On the way back to Base Backpackers I stopped at a Malaysian Restaurant and ordered two main plates Mee Goreng and Stir Fried Seafood. This was the end of my first day in Wellington.

The following day I started by checking out the 'famous' café scene so I had breakfast in a café instead of the hostel as usual. I lazed about in bed and arrived at café Arabica, (opposite the Intercontinental Hotel) at 11am. Despite the late time it was full of businessman (and women) and I was sitting in the middle of the café bombarded by 20 simultaneous conversations. It felt rather surreal.

After finishing my cappuccino and muffin I walked towards the cable car to visit the botanical gardens. This walk was particularly memorable because I remember myself walking towards the cable car reading the newspaper headlines on the boards proclaiming that Steve Irwin was killed by a sting ray. This added to the surrealism of the day.

The view from the top of the cable car was more or less what you'd expect and what you're seeing in the picture. When I arrived to the botanical gardens I decided to go and visit the rose garden. This was probably the worst decision of the holiday because after an hour walking I found the rose garden but it took me about 5 minutes to realise that I had found it. The reason being that there wasn't a single rose in sight because it being winter and everything. At least there was the orchid enclosure which is becoming a symbolic aspect of my holidays, because I always end up in an orchid place, willingly or not.

From the botanical garden I walked towards the centre and since I had some time to spare I went for the 2pm tour in the Parliament. This was the only activity where there where more New Zealanders than tourists visiting. The tour only consisted of a description of the building.

This ended my day in Wellington and at 7pm I got the night bus to Rotorua.

View the complete Wellington Gallery here

Coming next: Rotorua

Costs:

Yesterday was my last day on the Stray bus. Overall the experience was a positive one and now I felt comfortable being on my own once again. I decided to stay an extra night in Dunedin and take a regular bus to Christchurch rather than travelling a day earlier with the Stray bus. The reason for this was to see the yellow eyed penguins. While New Zealand isn't lacking from scenic beauty the country isn't exactly teeming with animals, so Dunedin along with Kaikoura where the two wildlife destinations on my itinerary.

With no bus to catch in the morning I lazed in the bed and woke up at 9, then after breakfast I set out to explore the city of Dunedin.

[Actual diary text: Dalghodu hadtha easy u qomt xi 9. L-ghagba l-ohra kienet diga qamet qabli u kont diga smajt kull qallut minuskolu u kull bassa twila tal-harja taghha. Nsomma, hadt tazza café mil-kamra biex nuza l-privillegi tal-kamra tal-lukanda u mbaghad tlaqt ghal ghonq it-triq nesplora Dunedin]

The city centre is made of two roads in concentric circles, a good way to find the city centre because you'll inevitably cross these roads when walking towards the centre. A picture of the train/bus station would be a good clue for a trivial pursuit question on the Scottish origins of the word Dunedin. Maybe it had something to do with roads going around in circles but this place stimulated my shopping impulse because I went on a shopping spree. I ended up getting yet another cargo pants, a self inflatable mat and a thermal undervest. The first shop I went into was a cycling shop and I after drooling in the CamelBak section I went to the more approachable thermal underwear section. I convinced myself a black sleek undervest would be more fashionable than the light blue vests I usually wear. I got the medium sized one in the black box and left happy with the bargain – they where ½ the price of the ones I could get in Dublin. When I removed from the box I realised that not only the vest wasn't light blue but it had all the bright colours of the rainbow!

I liked Dunedin as a city. I might say that I think it ended up being my favourite city in the South Island. The small compact centre makes it easy to roam about, the shopping is good and there's a young vibe about the place. There are many students living here because of the University there is which is the only University in the New Zealand where you can study dentistry. As the University Bookshop can easily prove from the loads of shelves full of Medicine books the University's strong point is the medicine section.

After the shopping spree I went back to the hotel and found the Elm's Tour Guide waiting for me at the hotel reception. I rushed upstairs, threw the purchases on the bed, took a piss and hopped on the tour bus. This tour company had a certain professional feel. As I boarded the van, the guide gave me a sheet with the species that we were likely to see on the trip and binoculars. The young guide had a masters degree and he researched the sea lion migration in the area.

After collecting everybody from their respective hotels (while I was reading the Australian M.A.D. magazine) we went to look for the albatross. Even before we walked to the cliff both guides knew that we weren't going to find any albatross. Instead of the albatross I had to content myself with the little shags on their nest. We barely spent two minutes in the wind until everybody walked towards the reception centre. The reception centre had an exhibition on albatross migration however most people preferred to sit in the café section sipping coffee and eating muffins.

The next stop was the fur seal colony. The fur seals like all other seals are always fun to watch, playful and photogenic. I had already watched the seals from a closer distance so I was eager to get on with this part of the tour and spend more time observing the penguins. As we were return back to the van up the hills we had a really hard time walking up because of the very strong wind. The wind was so strong that it made the news, because some places got damaged by the wind in the Otago peninsula. Once again I had to hold my glasses from flying off.

After the seal colony it was time for the long anticipated attraction of the tour – the penguins. We visited the penguins last because dusk is the best time to see these animals. We had to drive for about 45 minutes from the seal place to the penguin. On the way we saw some variable oystercatchers, white faces herons, stilts, shags and paradise ducks.

Before we arrived to the penguins we had to cross the white sandy beach near and pass near a sea lion colony. Their threatening looks didn't scare us, but they were more interested in playing with each other than taking note of our group. At last we came up to the penguin hide and in front of my eyes were the yellow eyed penguins.

There where two courting penguins, a feeble penguin coming up from sea who was being blown away by the wind and there was the movie star penguin. This penguin was staring at the camera in his hide and striking different poses for our pleasure. The guide turned on the TV to oblige.

This was a very poor description of the whole tour and I doubt how much the photos can do give the deserved credit to this activity. All I can say is that if you're even remotely interested in wildlife you should go on the Elms tour. The guides are well informed and knowledgeable and the penguins are just fantastic.

[Actual Diary text Nr. 2] Ahna u sejrin lura d-dar gol-van qadt nisma l-Opeth biex ma nismax il-qroqqa ingliza kerha pesta tiftahar bl-ex boyfriend daniz li kellha.]

When I arrived home I had a short nap and at midnight I went in search for Dunedin nightlife. This was Saturday but for some reason or other I only found 1 bar that had a decent clientele. There were loads of people outside in the streets but whenever I tried to follow a crowd I always ended up in an eatery. I tried to go in a nightclub but after going up an endless flight of stairs I only found 5 underage Chinese girls, probably the only people able to endure the stairs stamina test. The men's toilet was a complete waste of space. At last I ended up in Champions Sports Grill Bar and watched New Zealand lose their only game this year against South Africa 21-20.

View the complete Dunedin Gallery here

Coming next: Wellington

Costs:

Since Klaus, Mark and I spent an extra two days in Te Anau we had to join a new Stray group to go to Invercargill. This group was travelling in a van with Catherine as their driver. The new companions were; an Irish / British couple, a British middle aged man and a German i-don’t-know-what-to-call-her in her mid-thirties. The couple were nice and friendly, the British man was too quiet to form an opinion about, and the German was funny in a stupid way. The German, Heidi, reminded me of one of my acquaintances in Dublin who happens to have a fixation with the Germans. The mannerisms and character of Heidi so closely resembled my friend's that I could predict her actions.

The only two landmarks I remember in Invercargill are the Tuatara Backpackers sign and the statue of whoever acting as a roundabout in the main street. Despite having a humungous reminder of the Tuatara I managed to forget to go and see this ancient reptile housed in the Invercargill museum.

On the first of September we travelled from Invercargill to Dunedin. In the morning I woke up early to say goodbye to Mark and Klaus who were leaving our group to catch the ferry to Steward Island. These were the two best buddies I made on the trip and the only people I spent more than a few hours with.

After a quick breakfast and a morning stroll around the city we left to Dunedin. The day was quite bland and uneventful. We stopped to explore a small cave, saw a petrified forest and tried our luck at a yellow eyed penguin hide, but there were no penguins. I spent the trip alternating between looking out of the window and reading Diary by Chuck Palahniuk, the new book I got from the Invercargill's bookshop whose anorexic attendant didn't know what a copybook was.

We arrived in Dunedin at about 6pm, just in time for the Speight's brewery tour. The tour was ok, although nothing special. You see the usual brewery stuff so if you've been on a beer tour before this isn't very different. The best part of these tours is always the beer sampling at the end. Unfortunately we were only left with an effective quarter of an hour from the planned half hour to sample 7 different brews. Of course, I tried to make the best out of it and reclaim the entry cost in beer but even drinking very fast 15 minutes is a short time. At least I tasted all 7 and went half way through the second round.

The hostel we were going to stay at didn't have any rooms available so instead they offered us a twin room in their hotel. I ended up with Heidi in the twin room, and after I returned from the brewery tour I find a bottle of wine and some fancy wrapped nachos on the sideboard table. She got these for us to divide, so after a long shower I hopped in bed and we spent the rest of the night watching Oceans 12, drinking wine and eating nachos. My initial impression of her changed just enough to drink half the bottle of wine before falling asleep.

View the complete Invercargill to Dunedin Gallery here

Coming next: Dunedin Penguin City

Costs:

Even though unplanned the sheep farm visit made the extra 2 day bus trip from Te Anau to Dunedin worth doing. There are 40,000,000 sheep living in New Zealand which amounts to 10 sheep for every person. From the figures it's not difficult to imagine that these cute woolly creatures that never tire eating are a resource to New Zealand.

After welcoming us to his farm, James led us towards a shed that could have doubled as a hanger for a small Cessna. Neatly aligned by the left wall where an assortment of rubber boots marked from 3 to 12 waiting for us to wear. The shed was almost on par with the boots area in Franz Josef which wasn't anything like a sheep farm. This was the first clue that farming is done professionally here not in the rudimentary style I remember from my childhood days back home. As I was wearing the boots I was thinking how cool it would have been to help James on the farm. Not that I have a farming fetish or anything but I think that getting first hand experience in an industry, which to a certain extent is representative of part of New Zealand, is an excellent way to immerse yourself in the culture.

James called his son to drive the tractor to the shed. The 7 of us climbed in the tractor's back carriage for a tour around the sheep paddocks. This time of the year was lambing season so we went to look for any sheep giving birth.

[As soon as Sheamus (Who is Sheamus?) saw the first herd of sheep he started trembling with excitement and jumped out of the carriage. He rolled in the damp soil covering his back in mud and sprinted towards the nearest sheep sticking out Linda in her face. The bastard went to look for Linda's mother. My face flushed red in fury. It was no use calling him come back to the tractor, he wouldn't listen. When we returned back from the tour he was still nowhere to be seen and to give him a lesson I left to Invercargill without him.]

We arrived at the first paddock and as promised there was the first mamma sheep giving birth. Apparently there was a complication with the birth because the lamb was coming out the incorrect way. James hurried towards the sheep leaving the tractor's machine roaring noisily. After studying the situation closely he started returning the baby lamb back inside the mother. Sticking your hands deep inside a sheep isn't exactly my idea of holiday fun. My inclination to help on the farm vanished, and my work desk felt so reassuring. I was filming the whole show while most of my Stray mates turned their faces away from the gross operation in progress.

When James reassured himself that everything was back to normal we continued visiting the paddocks. With every herd we passed James kept his eyes open to ensure those giving birth had no complications. Fortunately he didn't have to play the midwife another time. Each time we passed a newborn sheep he sprayed with a green spray to identify the day when it was born. Most of these lambs are sold for their meat to be exported. The farmer decides which lambs to keep and which lambs to kill based on characteristics like wool quality, meat quality, sex etc. The lambs can be killed from when they're 8 weeks old, and the lambs that are born early are worth more because there's a bonus for early exports to the British market.

The impression that the farming here is professional was reinforced when James told us that he knew how many lambs each sheep was going to give birth to. He knows this by scanning each pregnant sheep to know how many lambs there were. These farms here contain thousands of sheep so administering the farm isn't a trivial task. It was interesting to learn how the farmer knows which sheep are pregnant and require scanning. During the mating season a ram is let loose in a paddock for a week. A special purpose harness with an ink pad is fitted on the ram so that when he mates with the sheep the ink stains the sheep's wool making it possible for the farmer to identify which sheep were sexed. I thought this was an ingenious idea to help in administering the farm because it reduces the scanning of so many ugly sheep that the ram bother with.

After the paddocks tour it was time for sheep shearing. The task to move the sheep from the paddocks to the shearing shed was left in the hands of the sheep dog. The dog jumped in the paddock and chased the sheep out guiding them inside the shed. The sheep were so obedient it would have made my school teachers envious. There are two different types of dogs that are used by the farmer, one guides the dogs towards the shed and the other guides the sheep inside the shed.

Before we started peeling the wool off the sheep we were given some over-clothes to avoid stinking our clothes with sheep smell. Sheep wool stinks. It's oily and the smell of the wool sticks to your hands immediately so imagine what would happen to the clothes. This time the clothes weren't comparable with the ones the glacier guides gave us but the 1970 turquoise track suit trousers still saved me the trouble of having to wash my clothes again.

I was the second person of the group to shear the sheep. James's son did most of the work handling the sheep and making sure that I didn't get kicked. All I had to do was to keep this stiff vibrating shaver steady and move it along the sheep's body. Most of the skill involved is more in holding and handling the sheep, although shaving comes in different degrees of satisfaction. I was surprised to learn that there are sheep shearing competitions where professional shearers compete to determine the fastest and most efficient sheep shaver. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that this competition was invented in New Zealand considering the aptitude these people have at inventing strange sports.

Sheep shearing competitions may be strange but when I saw the yearly 'sheep industry' calendar with nude shearers and wool handlers (men and women) I was astounded. I'm not sure whether it was because of the nude people covered in wool or because I learned that are professional wool handlers. The wool handler's job is to collect the wool, sort it according to the grade, and then pack it. I can't imagine how a wool handler smells like.

After this cultural activity James invited us to his house for a cup of tea and some cookies. A rural farmer in the South Island of New Zealand was another perfect candidate for the "where am I from game" but I ended up giving the answer quickly for fear that I'd spend the night there and might be required to help a sheep giving birth. In my opinion the 100% New Zealand award should be given to the sheep farming activity. No other activity felt as authentic as this one.

I spent the rest of the evening shopping with Klaus and Mark in Invercargill. This is the southernmost village in the South Island and the gateway to Steward Island. I would have liked to visit Steward Island but I didn't have enough time to go there. I was further discouraged to visit when I learned that some people got stranded there because the ferry between Steward Island and Invercargill didn't operate due to bad weather conditions.

In the evening the three of us went to the cinema to watch Silent Hill. I appreciated how the movie recreated the feel of the game but that was the only positive thing about the film. If you've never played the game you might be better off not watching it. If you do watch it anyway and don't like it then it's all your fault – you have been warned. Rating 1.5 / 5

View the complete Sheep Shearing Gallery here

Coming next: Invercargill to Dunedin

Costs:

The Doubtful Sound tour we booked the day before for was organised by Fiordland Explorer Charters and it was $75 cheaper than Real Journey's same tour (this might be a winter only offer). This morning we were picked up from the hostel, a common occurrence around here, and started the day with a 20 minutes bus drive to Lake Manapouri. Apart from Klaus, Mark and I, there were another 12 passengers with us on the bus, most of which were travelling in couples. The first stage of the journey to the sound was crossing Lake Manapouri in a small boat squashed like illegal immigrants crossing to the dot. At least it wasn't a rubber dingy and I was the darkest one on board.

After crossing the lake we had another drive by bus and on our way we stopped at the underground Manapouri hydroelectric power station. This power station generates electricity by the flow of the water from Lakes Te Anau and Manapouri. The water from the lakes falls 178 metres through the station and then flows out through the mountains to Deep Cove. The guide explained that 500 tonnes of water pass through the station at any given time, enough to fill the machine hall (in the picture) every 60 seconds. The reason the power station was built here was because of the volume of water it has access to, and its proximity to sea level.

After the interesting brief detour to the power station we arrived at Doubtful Sound. Unlike Milford Sound where the wharf was full of people this one only hosted our boat. With only 15 people on board the chatter was limited to small groups and the driver/guide was friendly and unobtrusive. It didn't take long to start appreciating the beauty of the sound. The sheer wilderness of the place. The huge mountain faces and the sparsely snow capped mountains in the distance. Doubtful Sound is 10 times bigger than Milford although it is not as popular probably because it isn't as accessible.

During the trip we alternated between staying outside enjoying the scenery in the cold wind and staying inside enjoying the complementary tea and coffee looking out of the tiny windows. Actually, the decision wasn't difficult to take. We were inside when we were speeding or it was raining, and outside the rest of the time.

The Sounds are known to contain an abundance of wildlife. In fact in other journals I read that dolphins and fur seals were a common sighting, but what I really wanted to see was the Fiordland Crested Penguin. I knew the possibility of even getting a remote glance of this elusive, almost extinct penguin was a wild dream so I wasn't expecting anything. So you can imagine my reaction when I heard the word penguin over the mumbling in the cabin. I threw open the door and abruptly made it on the deck with a complete disregard towards the rest of the people. There they where, the mighty penguins. The Fiordland Crested Penguins. I couldn't believe my eyes (or rather binoculars) and fumbled for the camera. I tried locating the tiny spot and zooming on it balancing on the rocking boat. My first attempts where blurry and the rest weren't great but at least I've got proof and a memorial reminder of what the Fiordland Crested Penguin looks like. This penguin is similar to the yellow eyed penguin that lives in the Dunedin area, but it has a crest apart from the yellow band on the eyes.

As regards the rest of the wildlife we spotted some fur seals, but they were far enough not to bother taking a photo. I didn't really mind because I already had a close encounter with the fur seals in Kaikoura. The dolphins were more stubborn and I think they must have had a particular dislike for my beard because they didn't even appear this time around. I missed them in Kaikoura and in 3 trips to the sounds. This must be something personal considering they are commonly seen here. I contented myself with the penguin sighting though which was the most memorable event of the whole trip

On this trip I learned about tree avalanches. The trees on the mountains aren't rooted on firm ground because the soil is thin and most of the roots are entangled in moss. This makes them prone to fall over because if a tree on top falls it drags the rest of the trees that are attached to it through the carpet of moss which entwines the roots of the trees together, forming a tree avalanche. The effect of these avalanches is visible on the mountain faces with patches of bare mountains rock in between the dense forest of trees.

The visibility in Doubtful sound was much better than the previous trip to Milford. The day started out with a clear sky which later started turning gray, but it was still good enough to snap pictures. The wind was cold and the rush of the water kept me reaching out for the jacket each time I went out on the deck. But all in all I couldn't complain.

Both Doubtful Sound and Milford Sound are incorrectly named, because they are in fact Fiords not sounds. The difference is that a Fiord is carved out of glacier activity and a Sound is carved out of the gentler effect of water thus making the shape of the mountain valley a more rounded U rather than the V shape of the typical Fiord. The word sound however is a good mnemonic to remind you of the real sound of the fiord. At a certain point the driver turned off the engine and told us to appreciate the sound of the Fiord. The sound of the silence, the lapping water against the boat and the gush of water from the waterfalls form a symphony that enriches the experience of this place. I wondered how amazing it would have been to paddle these waters in a kayak without the noise of the engines, feeling at one with nature, squashed to insignificance by the massiveness of the mountains. This was the first time I regretted myself for coming in winter, where the kayaking opportunities are very few.

We arrived back in Te Anau at 6 and all the tourist offices (there were more than one in Te Anau) were closed, so we couldn't book the kayaking tour for Milford Sound the following day. Instead we planned to do the Key Summit trail, a day walk that starts from the Chasm in the Milford Road. On Wednesday, when we were going to start the trail we decided to go on the Milford Sound cruise once again since the weather was much better than the previous Monday.

As if the day wasn't packed enough with the Doubtful sound cruise, at 6.30 Klaus and I went to the Glow worm caves. To get to the caves we went on a short boat trip. Here while chatting with Klaus I learned about the Thermal Wonderland of Rotorua, one of the best advices of the holiday.

After a brief video introduction at the reception centre we moved to see the caves and the glow worms. These caves are still very young. The guide showed us a stalagmite that was smaller than my little finger. I couldn't restrain my giggle and for once I felt proud about the caves there are in 'the dot'.

When we arrived at the end of the cave walk we were divided in two groups to start the actual glow worm tour. We boarded a small wooden raft and made it towards the back of the cave. The trip was in pitch darkness and in complete silence to allow us to see the glow worms better.

At the end of the cave we came to the most densely populated area of glow worms and in the dark the ceiling of the cave turned into a starlit sky. When I started to focus on patches of glow worms the fluorescent dots started blurring and the image turned quite hazy. Some Pink Floyd music would have ideal to complete this psychedelic experience.

Tonight after almost two weeks on holiday I decided to cook something properly. From the supermarket stop I got a container of fresh New Zealand muscles, and cooked the muscles in a Thai sauce with coconut milk and some jasmine rice. I thought the tamarind taste in the sauce was a bit too concentrated but Klaus thought it was perfect.

View the complete Doubtful Sound Gallery here

Coming next: Invercargill

Costs:

Fiordland always featured the most spectacular photos in the magazines I read before travelling to New Zealand, so my expectations were high. Upon boarding the cruise on the sound I realised that I had discounted a nasty adversary that never features in the pictures, the bad weather and poor visibility.

Finally there was a breath of fresh air on the bus from Queenstown to Te Anau. The two folks who were with me on the bus in the previous trips stopped in Queenstown and a group of 19 replaced them. Most of the people were British and already knew each other, so they were hanging out together. I was indifferent to them, and instead made friends with Klaus and Mark, an Austrian and a lone British. Klaus was travelling around New Zealand for two months during his summer holiday break from University, and Mark was here for a year on a working holiday. The three of us were going to spend an extra two days in Te Anau, so we spent most of the time together.

The trip from Queenstown took about 2 ½ hours and at 9.30 I was having a venison pie in a café in village of Te Anau. The plan for the day was to go on a Milford Sound cruise via the Milford Road and back to Te Anau for the night in the Lake View Holiday Park Hostel

The beauty of the trip starts as soon as you leave Te Anau on the road to the Sound, the famous Milford Road. This dead end, 120km double lane road, attracts over 250,000 visitors a year and with good reason. The lonely winded road cuts through the heart of Fiordland from the undulating farmland in Te Anau, into ever wilder mountainscapes finishing at the wharf of Milford Sound. Like no other place has the work of avalanches, earthquakes and rainwater carved out such a marvellous sculpture of mountains covered with mossy forests, waterfall trickles and glassy reflecting lakes.

Along the road there are various stops where you can park to appreciate the beauty of the place. We stopped along all the main points starting from the mirror lakes whose crystal clear water reflect the snow capped mountains like a mirror, to the chasm walk. In this 20 minute (return) walk you can see cascades of water flowing through the narrow chasm along the path of a river.

The first cruise on Milford Sound was a complete waste of time and money, the visibility was appalling, the rain was lashing, and the winds were blowing. The lonely planet recommends not to be put off by a downfall because if there's no rain then the waterfalls dry out. This is only correct while you can figure out where the waterfalls are, because with the heavy rain and low clouds some mountains weren't even visible. After taking some preliminary 'prove photos' I ended up drinking the complimentary coffee and chatting with the two Irish newcomers on the bus. They gave me some suggestions on what to do in Wellington, which proved helpful later on. I prefer to rely more on advice given by travellers I meet rather than from the guidebook, for some reason it feels more trustworthy.

The cruise on Milford sound takes about 1 ½ hours. By now the weather got worse and sleeping on the way up though Milford Road didn't classify as a deadly sin. We made our way back to the hostel, and as far as big hostels go the Lake View Holiday Park topped them all. The hostel looks like soldier's barracks in the way it's laid out, occupying a vast amount of land. There were so many cabins and divisions that in the three days I spent there I always got lost on my way to my room. Here we had single rooms for hostel prices but with so many rooms available it would have been a crime not to.

I spent the evening chatting, watching some TV and drinking coffee in the kitchen. Drinking coffee in the kitchen became a cult by now. I'd go there with my good friend Sheamus and we'd watch people cook, eavesdrop on conversation to collect some gossip fodder and watch some TV.

After the kitchen rush hour was over I 'prepared' another of my gourmet meals. This time it was pitta bread with anchovies. The anchovy bones kept tickling my throat so I got fed up of them pretty soon. I turned to dessert which consisted of a can of pineapple rings. These meals apart from having zero preparation time and need no utensils also don’t require any refrigeration which is handy when you're always on the go. [Refrigerators were available in every hostel but he couldn’t be bothered.] When preparing this meal I remembered one of my granny's war time snacks - white grapes with bread. I was eating all this while watching Jamie Oliver on TV, and I could see that envious look on his face.

View the complete Milford Sound Gallery here

Coming next: Doubtful Sound / Te Anau

Costs:

Skydiving was never on my to do list. Back home whenever my friends started talking about such sports I used to put on my invisibility cloak and fade away from the discussion. I couldn't imagine why anybody what want to leap off a plane? Today I'm in New Zealand waiting for the NZ Skydive van to drive me to the drop zone for my first skydive.

The jump point of the skydive wasn't in Queenstown but in another place called Glenorchy, which was a 45 minute drive away from the hostel. This was a tricky drive because during the idle time in the van the inevitable "what if the parachute doesn't open" question kept crossing my mind. This minor thought was dwarfed by the curiosity I had to try this adrenalin pumping sensation, and once I decided I was going to do it I wasn't going to take back. On the same van there was a couple in their sixties. I never expected that they were going to skydive but after overhearing them speak I realized that the lady was going to jump.

The first indication that we arrived in Glenorchy was the small propeller plane standing in the middle of the field that was serving as a runway. After the introductions I was expecting a long boring safety procedures rant, after the fuss they made on the whale watching tour it was the least I could imagine. Luckily there was none of this. We only had to sign a disclaimer notice just in case we were splattered to the ground.

Until we were waiting for the crew to prepare the gear, Jack, my instructor played a DVD. There were five options in the menu and at a glance I noticed that one of the options was nude jumping. My first thought was "wouldn't my precious jewels freeze up there?". [Wouldn't it be infinitely worse if you were to do a tandem jump in the nude.] Jack only played the first video with normal people and sexy models. However, out of curiosity I managed to find a nude skydiving video on the net. Apparently it can be done. See nude skydiving video here

When the video finished we went to get dressed to prepare for the jump. The basic gear an unsightly yellow overall, but worse than that I had to wear a leather cap like the ones the early pilots used to wear. [Condom headed Mike!.] The harness to attach me to Jack and the pair of goggles completed the set. The only instructions I was given were to proceed slowly to the edge of the plane, sit down, keep my hands crossed on my chest, and bend feet backwards. The instructor had to push out of the plane and at his signal I could open my hands and keep the body in an arc shape position so the torso is protruding forward, and the legs are like kicking him in buttocks.

>As soon as the plane took off I didn't have time to think about what I was about to do. The scenery was too magnificent. They call this place Paradise and as much as brochures tend to exaggerate they're damn right on this one. The sceneries for Isengard, Amon Hen and Lothlorien from the Lord of the Rings were all shot in Glenorchy. I'll give Lem the merit for suggesting this place even though here intentions might not have been the purest since she was seeing one of the crew.

With 8 people on the plane it was at its full capacity. Apart from my instructor and the old lady's instructor there were the two cameramen, a pretty Finnish (I know it's a paradox) seasoned jumper, and Lem's partner. In order to take photos and video a separate person had to jump with us. This was much better than having a video camera attached to my instructor.

Considering that I was about to jump off a plane I was quite relaxed on the flight. After all it's all easy sitting in a plane gaining altitude. The scenery and the ongoing interactions between people distract your attention from the jump, so it was easy to avoid thinking what might go wrong. The confidence of the rest of the people suggested that there was nothing to worry about. Every once in a while I'd take a look at the altimeter to ensure that we're not about to jump as yet. At about 9,000ft Jack tied himself to me and I start feeling like having a Siamese twin. In a few minutes we reached the established altitude of 12,000ft, the door opened and people started jumping into the void.

All my confidence ebbed. We were the last group to jump out so I had those few extra seconds watching the others vanish in the empty sky. As soon as it was my turn I crawled towards the exit and sat down. The cameraman got out of the plane and held on to the wing so that we will jump off together. All of a sudden I found myself in mid-air. We were off.

As soon as Jack gave me the sign to open my hands I let go and started having all the fun in the world. It was the freest thing I've ever did. It's just indescribable. I'm not even going to try and explain what it feels like, because I can't put it into words. All I can say is that it's definitely one of the best things I've ever did in my life. It was worth every cent and I believe that everyone must try it at least once in his life. Don't use age as an excuse, the granny that jumped with me had over 60 and if you're past that age then you can surpass her record.

The freefall took about 30 seconds and that's were all the fun is. As soon as the parachute opens you're jolted upwards and you turn from a horizontal position to a vertical posture. Even though the parachute descent is nice it's nowhere near the buzz of the freefall. I tried to suck in the scenery around, but after experiencing that sensation it's difficult to focus on anything.

While still on the parachute Jack told me how to land. It hadn't occurred to me that I didn't know how I was going to land, but this is typical of me. I always start things without planning how to end them. To land, all you need to do is keep your feet up so that you'll lend on your backside.

When I decided to try skydiving I thought that I'd try it once and that would be enough. Now that I tried it I definitely want to do it again. It's too sensational. I think my greatest fear, and probably the only one, was that I'd never the plunge and jump. I always believed that I'm too clumsy to trust myself with my life. When I learnt that the first few jumps must be done in tandem, i.e. with an instructor responsible for everything, I thought, I can do this. Now that I've skydived I still don't know why anyone would want to jump off a plane. Maybe to experience something different? Maybe to see what all the fuss is about? Maybe to prove something to one? Take your pick, but do it, you'll feel something you never felt anywhere else!

Live as if there's no yesterday because it's the past we regret

View the complete Skydiving Gallery here

Coming next: Milford Sound

Costs:

After sleeping most of Saturday night, this morning I felt like I could handle people once again. Today was one of the most anticipated days of the holiday. Today was the adrenalin day.

I had a hasty breakfast and walked about 100m up the road to a place called the station. This is a rendezvous point for many tour operating companies and it was the pickup point for the Shootover Jet. The pictures of the red speedboat with screaming people are so common in tourist offices and hostels they're like coca-cola ads in Christmas. I had to try the Shootover jet ride out of curiosity from the sheer volume of ads. Call it effective marketing!

When we arrived at the river the crew handed us some waterproofs and advised us to wear any hats or beanies. As usual mine was still packed in the pack at the hostel and for the first time I regretted it. We went on the speedboat and prepared for the fun. The river water was shallow, but it didn't seem to matter much because we soon started whizzing around the canyon.

The speedboat sped across the river turning along the winding waterway trying to keep as close as possible to the canyon walls. I was at the edge of and was convinced that there wasn't any risk of smashing in any canyon. The only scary thing was the cold penetrating my skull. Sometimes, when we arrived at certain open spaces the driver started making a circular motion with his index finger and gave the boat a 3600 spin. It was like doing a handbrake turn with the car. Before I boarded the boat I was concerned that I might loose my glasses in theses spins but the fear was completely unfounded. We spent about 20 minutes on the jetboat and the ride was good fun. For $99NZD it was worth doing at least for the sake of the scenery if not for the adrenalin rush.

[As skydiving was the best activity of the holiday it has a dedicated post]

After skydiving I returned to Queenstown still high from the skydive buzz. Without even stopping at the hostel I went up the Skyline Gondola for a bird's eye view of Queenstown and after snapping some pictures I took the chairlift up to the top of the luge (sledge) track for a luge ride. At first the luge seemed quite a babyish thing to do, but after the first ride I changed my idea and ended up using all of my 6 rides.

On my way down to the village in the gondola I met a 17 year old Australian who was on holiday by himself. After he shared the pains of being alone and underage he told me his name was Tray. I thought, damn that's a stupid name to give to a child, his parents must be waiters to call him that. I passed some milder comment on his name trying to hide my disgust, and then he told me that his name is TrOy not Tray. While still not the best of names it makes much more sense. This is all you need to know about Australian accents.

Having spent the whole day without any food I went to try the famous Gourmet Burger place, Fergburger. This is an epic piece of culinary here in Queenstown and something many people talk about. It is one of the best burgers I've ever tasted. I had a classic with Swiss Cheese which was one of the smallest on the menu. Even though it was one of the smallest it was still big enough to satisfy a hungry Mike. The only pity of not having another day in Queenstown was that I couldn't have another Fergburger.

Back to the hostel I had a shower and a short nap and hit the bars at about 9.00pm. Here I met another Australian who was here for his brother's wedding. After our mutual dissatisfaction with the ratio in the hostel's pub, Altitude, we proceeded to leave the pub in search for a better one. When we were going out this man smashed into the glass door because he didn't see it. The bouncer couldn't hide his disgust and I couldn't stop laughing. This was the best thing that happened that night.

View the complete Queenstown Gallery here

Coming next: Skydiving in Queenstown

I case you were wondering about the italic words enclosed in square brackets in the New Zealand travelogue, these words were contributed by my travel companion Sheamus O'Hara (or Seamus O'Reilly to the Irish). Sheamus was the only one who came with me to New Zealand when nobody else would. I adopted the 12 year old from Inis Bigil last July and since then he has been living with me. Although I care for him and tolerate his disrespect I sometimes cannot help not using him as my personal slave.

In this picture Sheamus is sitting in the hostel's kitchen drinking a cuppa after he finished writing a card to his Latvian missus (the one he met at the Latvian Embassy in Dublin). On his left hand side there's Linda the sheep he saved from the fury of the yellow rubber duckling. The two were entangled in a death match on the stern of the cruise boat at Milford Sound until Sheamus swiped away the duckling and saved Linda. As a sign of her gratitude, Linda vowed to accompany Sheamus for the rest of the trip hoping to find a way to repay her dues.

Costs:

I rubbed my eyes and squinted at the opposite bed hoping to see the Belgian girl packing. She hadn't changed her plans. I drew the curtains and saw the sun rising with not a cloud in sight. Damn sun, why didn't she appear yesterday instead! I tried to straighten the wrinkles from the tracksuit pants that doubled as a pajama for the night, loaded the 75litre backpack on one strap, and dragged myself to the orange bus. It was 8.00am.

The Belgian girl was replaced by a Kiwi who was making some research for his website. Unfortunately the English one was still with us. I kept two seats away from either moron, enough to make it blatantly obvious that I was in a sour mood. I tilted my head on the cold glass, and slept. In about 45 minutes the music stopped and Mixxo parked the bus somewhere in Fox Glacier Village where we were stopped for breakfast. I left the rest of the troupe to fatten themselves on pies and tea and went for a walk in a side street lined with flowered front gardens. On the right side of the street there were some fields covered with a low fog that reminded me of Stephen King's eerie descriptions.

We continued towards Queenstown passing through Haast and Wanaka. When planning the trip I was undecided whether to stop in Queenstown or in Wanaka. I asked Mixxo his opinion and he said "yeah yeah, the two are very similar you know." As the bus was going to Queenstown I decided to choose the easy option and go to the more popular village. I read my book for most of the trip, only lifting my head when Mixxo shared some of his tourguide wisdom. The only thing I remember him saying was "this area was featured 3 times in that famous porno movie called The Lord of the Rings."

We arrived in Queenstown at 3.00pm, and the three of us checked in the Discovery Lodge hostel. The hostel was disgusting. First of all it was huge, everything was well kept, cleaners were wearing uniforms, and rooms were perfectly symmetrical, full of impersonality. This was a hotel with bunk beds. No character, no homely feeling and not a spec of dust. The only missing thing was a detachable shower so you could rinse your ass comfortably.

After having a cup of coffee in the disproportionately small kitchen I went downstairs in the hostel's own travel arrangement desk to book the activities for the next day. Tired with the boyfriend game I thought I'd cheer myself up and start a new game. There's nothing better than inventing a silly game to amuse myself on a day like this, so I invented the 'where do you think I am from game?' The first candidate for the game was Lem, the gorgeous chick at the booking desk. [You crafty bastard, you played this game because you knew it was going to take her forever to guess.]

The game played much better than expected because she paid attention not to mention any country that she thought I'd find insulting. (I hadn't yet paid for the bookings). I read her thoughts and knew that she was dying to mention some Arabic places, but she avoided mentioning them by asking me my religion. When I told her "I'm not a Muslim if that's what you want to know", she just went, "oh no, now you've left me clueless." She then asked me to speak in my mother tongue, so I took this opportunity to verbally molest her in the dottian language. Now she was even more confused yet she still didn't want to give up, so she attempted another fuzzy reply which I found hilarious. She said, "are you from one of those tiny places that keep getting bombarded all the time?" I couldn't stop laughing. At last she gave up and I told here that I live in the dot. She couldn't recognise the name so I wrote it down for her to look it up on the internet. As soon as she read the paper she said "oohhhhh I know that, when I was a kid my friend went there and all she got me was an ugly pen." I understood that she wasn't amused and anti-climaxed by the result of the game.

After booking my activities I went for a walk near Queenstown Lake. There were two Crested Grebes and some gulls which kept me company while I was drinking whiskey and smoking the last Brazilian cigar I received in April. With a little less hair and shrinking to the size of a midget I might have been a replica of my father in his better days.

Feeling repelled by humanity I decided to go to bed early and avoid any contact with squalid humans. This tends to happens after I've had an overdose of socialisation. It's probably one of the ways which help me restore my internal balance.

View the complete Franz Josef to Queenstown Gallery here

Coming next: Queenstown

Costs:

There are times like when you’re on the bus from Barrytown to Franz Josef when you don’t mind the rain, but there are times when the rain is a royal pain in the ass. This was one of them. Still positively jetlagged I woke up at 7, had my coffee and biscuits breakfast, and cursed the rain. The glacier walk was going to be wet.

An hour later the English one and I where at the Franz Josef Glacier Guides office, waiting for the assistants to hand us our gear for the highly anticipated walk. Here they appreciate that not everyone goes around carrying waterproof vests and mountain gear, so they supply all the necessary equipment to go on the glacier. This includes a Gore-Tex rain jacket, crampons to be able to walk on ice, socks, waterproof overtrousers, gloves and a hat.

After wearing the waterproof gear at the office, we left for a short bus ride to the beginning of the glacier which is about 2.9km away from the actual glacier. The walk towards the ice takes about ¾ hour and even though the walk is pleasant the anticipation to get to the glacier had all my attention. Once we arrived at the glacier we went up a ladder and started walking slowly on the ice, until Cliff our guide thought us how to fit on the crampons. This is much easier than it looks; you just step inside the metal spikes, clip the edges to your boots, and tie them with straps.

At this stage we were divided into 3 groups depending on the conceived level of confidence, so each person decides his own level of comfort. Always a big fan of the golden mean I went for the middle group but ended up in the first group because of lack of volunteers. The group number determines who goes first, second and third. The idea is that the latter groups have smoother terrain because it has already been battered by the previous groups. While it wasn’t difficult to be in the first group it isn’t the best option to take photos because we were always pacing faster than the rest.

To walk on the glacier you don’t need any special skills just walking normally will do. Although ice is usually very slippery to walk on, the crampons make it dead easy. The only thing you have to do is walk normally and keep your feet apart. If you don’t the protruding edges of the crampons lock together and tie your feet leading to an inevitable fall. You might ask yourself why am I saying all this. Probably some of you already guessed; during one of the short lunch breaks I got distracted and pressed my feet together falling heavily on my knees. Obviously everybody started laughing including Sheamus, who was brushing his teeth in one of the streams nearby. I served as a perfect demonstration of what happens when a naughty boy disobeys his guide.

The rain kept on pouring for most of the time and we were testing our gear thoroughly even if I’m sure this is not the first time it went through this. The west coast of New Zealand is the wettest part of the country, in fact once they had 18.4 meters of rain in a year. My only worry was that the daypack wasn’t waterproof and it had all the camera equipment in it. I had to improvise a waterproof bag with my spare poncho by wrapping everything inside the hood. My wallet was in the bottom of the bag where all the water gathered so for yet another time it got soaked. Unlike the Malaysian and Ecuadorian currencies the NZ dollars have a plastic coating so it was only a matter of wiping off the water to dry them. For a brief moment in the afternoon the rain stopped and the sun shone for about 5 minutes. Those 5 minutes where the most beautiful minutes of the day. The difference the sun makes to the whole place is incredible. If you have time to spare I’d recommend waiting an extra day or two for the weather to clear up.

The ice on the glacier is unique - I’ve never seen anything similar in my life. It is a like being in a sculptured freezer everywhere around you is ice with all the different formations and shapes. Sometimes when you’re walking up all you can see is the ice because there’s so much of it that the rest of the place isn’t visible. The glacier is very different from being on a snowy mountain because you can see that everything underneath is made of solid ice and is not merely covered with snow. On the upper part of the glacier we passed through some very narrow crevices which are great fun to pass through and gorgeous to look at. The ice has got a distinctive blue tinge here (Why does glacier ice look blue?). As I was passing through these tight, wet, slippery passages I had a strong feeling of deja-vu dating back to 26 years ago.

An interesting thing about the glacier walk is that the guides create a new path in each different tour. The first guide carves out the first steps then the other guides than continue his work to make it easier for the people in their groups. Since it was raining the whole way, Cliff decided to speed the route and follow a pre-carved path. This didn’t prevent him from hitting the ice with his new axe (he was too happy with). This is a physically demanding job and it’s no wonder all the guides are lean and well built. Sometimes we found some ice structures that needed to be removed. You could see the perverse pleasure on Cliff’s face as he charged and bashed at the substantial structures of ice. He reminded me so much of a good friend of mine who’s heaving with appetite for destruction. Ska!

Another curious thing is that the guides tend to wear shorts. I can’t imagine myself walking on a glacier wearing shorts especially when I remember when I fell knee deep in a pool of freezing water because I mistook it for solid ground. The gear really proved itself here because I didn’t get wet at all.

The trip finished at around 3 but usually the full day tour takes another hour. We walked faster and avoided frequent stops to arrive earlier. There was a collective sigh of relief when we boarded the bus, and the hot chocolate they gave us at the guide’s centre was a godsend.

Back at the Rainforest Retreat, I had a hot shower and a short nap. In the evening then I had a pizza and some beers at the hostel restaurant while chatting with the Belgian girl.

View the complete Franz Josef Gallery here

Coming next: Franz Josef to Queenstown

Costs:

The problem with places larger than 'the dot' is that you can spend a whole day traveling on a bus. I was glad that this time I made it on a proper Stray bus, but things were developing slowly since there were only 2 other people besides me. [I can't decide whether it's because it's winter or because I wasn't showering enough.]

The two Stray mates where Karmen from Belgium and Penis from England. I must admit I didn't warm to them very well initially. Actually I didn't warm to the English guy at all and the reason I made such good friends with the Belgian was because of him. I had to pull Sheamus back as he was going for his crotch when he said "but when I'm in England and I start working I'll make $30,000." Presumptuous asshole! [Why did you mention this? Don't you know I get agitated when I hear this. As if he's the only one that makes that money, I can make 5 times that but I prefer not to.]

I was about to start getting vulgar as I usually turn when I'm fed up but then we stopped in the possum place. I had a possum pie and calmed down. The possum like all the other introduced wild land mammals are a threat to the indigenous wildlife in New Zealand so they're considered pests. You can freely kill them and use them in any way you want. In fact this place had seat covers, other decorations made out of possum fur and the possum pie that tasted somewhere between chicken and pork. The rest of the trip was uneventful.

We arrived in Franz Josef at around 2pm but it was pissing rain and there wasn't anything interesting to do except go to the internet café. The internet café had the most original tech-décor I've seen. The café was built in the inside of an old bus.

In this village we were staying at the rainforest retreat, a hostel the size of a university campus. I spent most of the evening in the kitchen and I had a very complicated meal. The main course was pitta bread with tinned smoked mussels and anchovies. I vowed that I wasn't going to waste precious time preparing food on holiday so the food preparation had to involve the minimal amount of cooking, preferably involving no cooking at all, and the minimal use of kitchenware. This dish was the perfect in this regard because it required zero utensils and zero cooking time. I wished that my grandmother was still alive so that I could ask her what they ate during the war. In fact it might be a good idea to start collecting such recipes I think they'll serve me well for another trip. (Note to self: Research war recipes)

I spent the rest of the evening having coffee and watching people cook in the kitchen. Here I met a Japanese guy named Ken; I can use his real name he's not going to be able to make sense of this text anyways. More interestingly I met a Czech rosy cheeked girl named Gatta. I noticed her first because she was cooking a really sophisticated dish [Liar], a sort of baked vegetable pie. We chatted for a while after dinner and even made fun of some people at our table. Wicked sense of humour she had. I like approachable people and she was most welcoming, down to earth and good fun. And just about to leave Franz Josef.

Costs:

Today was my first experience on the Stray bus. I wondered for a long time how this was going to turn out and my first worry was whether they'll remember to pick me up at the hostel. I'm naturally diffident of such pleasantries but with all the importance they give to tourists here I started getting used to it. Barely five minutes after the thought crossed my mind I was seated in the front seat of the car with my first Stray driver, Doodoo.

I never expected my first Stray Bus ride to be a personal chauffeur service to Barrytown. There was nobody else going taking my same route on the day so instead of sending me by public transport Doodoo, offered to drive me there. We made the usually petty talk but at times I had to filter out the "mate", "yeah", "awesome" and "gorgeous" out before arriving at the actual content of the sentence. [All this talk about making friends then you're in the car with somebody and after you go through the weather, your country, your work and how beautiful New Zealand is, you run out of things to say. The silence becomes uncomfortable and you start moving your lips to give the impression you're singing. Who are you kidding, even a two year old can tell that you don't know the song. Stop forcing yourself to it. Given enough time you'll blend in like banana with oranges. Just give it time, but persevere.]

Doodoo has been doing this job for 4½ years which by the bus driver turnover standard makes him a veteran. He's one of those people who enjoys driving and the reason for his kindness today was that he wanted to go for a drive. When the conversation got a bit deeper I asked him what he likes best about his job and his reply impressed me. "Cool mate, I like mi job cause the people I work with are usually on holiday, and people on holiday are usually happy, ya know, it's awesome to work in a happy environment." He likes to drive too.

After we stopped for a snack in Arthur's pass, and more importantly saw the kea, we continued towards Barrytown. The scenery kept getting better with chunks of snow on trees glowing in the sunshine. It made Christmas cards look incredibly phony. I'm going to start promoting winter tourism in New Zealand. It's so undervalued yet the snow in winter makes it infinitely more scenic, you only have to be lucky that the roads aren't closed. I couldn't ask for more, I had the dot's sunshine on snow. When we arrived on the west coast the place turned flat, very green and wet.

Let's face it; unless you're traveling with Stray you're not going to Barrytown. Barrytown is a tiny village on the west cost of the south island. It's so remote that not even New Zealanders know about it, but and this is a big BUT, if you're going with a Stray Bus try to include Barrytown in the itinerary. There wasn't a single person who went to Barrytown and didn't enjoy it. I've never seen such a consensus amongst travelers about a place, it's amazing and worrying. You start thinking that there's something wrong with the other places when the first thing they mention about New Zealand is Barrytown.

There's nothing in Baretown. It's so desolate that even the cemetery is empty. It all boils down to one inn, a long sandy beach and the Croesus track. All the fun is concentrated in 3 places. There's bone carving, knife making and the pub, which also doubles as the hostel. Unfortunately we didn't arrive in time to try one of the daytime activities but they must be great. Logically I can't understand what's so special about making a knife or carving a bone but everybody mentions it. It must be one of those unexplainable things like why laundry rooms are so hilarious when you are on holiday. The knifemaker also brews his own alcohol called moonshine which is plain horrible to taste but very effective. It's like putting surgical spirit on a wound, painful but effective. I probably used the surgical spirit analogy because it tastes somewhat similar.

With no option to visit the main attractions I went up the Croesus track for about 2 ½ hours which lead me nowhere. The track continued but since I didn't have a clue where I was going I backtracked. The forest is very wet here and you can see moss growing everywhere. It rains so much in the area that rain is measured in meters. The forest also had lots of ferns although I didn't find a silver fern which is the national symbol of the country. When you turn a silver fern leaf the underside of the leaf is silver, thus the name.

After the track I went down to the beach until I was devoured by sand flies. I ended in the pub which is the last big attraction in Barrytown. I don't need to bother mentioning the name of the pub because there is only one but since I remembered it anyway it was called the All Nations. The pub is an amazingly lively place, and people seem to grow out of nowhere to come here. There are lots of pictures that testify the wild nights that have taken place here. The cook Rusty deserves an honourable mention. He lives in a house without electricity and is also the handyman and the cook. The only thing that should convince you that the food is safe is the fact that I'm still alive. At least the Barry Burger I ate was safe.

The night I was in Barrytown there was a concert going on and I went to see what's up. The concert was in a big abandoned wooden warehouse, very uncharacteristic as a gig location but very cool at the same time. There were 3 bands touring all of whom I met before at the pub. The main act was by an instrumental rock band called 'Jakob'. The most original were 'Operational Thunderstorm', a 2 band piece with drums and guitars but no vocals. The third band was 'City city city' an Australian band from Melbourne and these got the crowd really going. There were about 50 people but from where they turned up only God knows.

View the complete Barrytown Gallery here

Costs

Transport
Atomic Shuttle bus from Christchurch, left at 7.30am and arrived at around 10am in time for the 10.30 whale watching tour. It is possible to make the trip to Kaikoura in a day from Christchurch without spending a night in Kaikoura.

Kaikoura was one of those places on the "if I have any chance left" list, but once I was talking to a friend living in Christchurch and she told me that Kaikoura is only a few hours away and easily accessible by bus. I then decided to try and go for a daytrip from Christchurch.

The reason I wanted to come to Kaikoura was to go Whale Watching and after I made up my mind about visiting the place I bookmarked my startup page to show me the daily whale sightings in Kaikoura. I never expected that Kaikoura is such a scenic place, and as much as I enjoyed watching the whales, the first thing that comes to mind when I remember about this place is the backdrop of snowcapped mountains coming out of the sea.

  

Even before getting out of the bus I realised that this is a busy touristy place as the whole main street which forms the village is lined up with all sorts of hostels, motels and hotels. In fact I could see more accommodations than people in the streets. Later I confirmed my perception with the local grocery attendant and she told me that in summer it's very busy and it isn't uncommon for people to queue till the end of the shop.

The uncrowded streets and the snowcapped mountains are one of the advantages of visiting Kaikoura in winter. The main threat of winter is the wind and rough seas which prevent whale boats from going out at sea. In fact the bus driver urged everybody to take the whale trip as soon as possible because the sea was very calm but was liable to turn rough later in the day. It turned out that he was right. The following day I met a French girl who didn't manage to get on a boat because of the inclement weather.

The whale watching trip finished at about 1.30pm and to regain my stability on solid ground I went for a stroll in Kaikoura and had some lunch at the bakery after Continental Seafoods Ltd. I had a coffee and a cheese pastry and went to eat it on the benches outside. In this country the coffee is either very strong or the sugar sachets aren't big enough. I left the pastry wrapped in the paper bag outside on the table and went to ask for some more sugar. When I returned the pastry had vanished and I see a gull picking at something on the floor. The cheeky bastard stole it. [Do you think he ate the rest of the pastry? … but off course! And he was laughing so hard that he ended giving the gull half of the pastry anyways.]

My original plan was to spend a day in Kaikoura and return with the afternoon bus but I fell in love with the place and decided to spend an extra day. At this time of the year it's was very easy to find accommodation without reservations and tonight I decided to stay at the Lazy Shag Backpackers. This decision was made purely because I liked the name of the place but it turned out to be a good decision because the place was comfortable and we were only 2 people in a 6 person dorm room.

The next morning after a pie and black coffee breakfast I went for a cliff top walk. This is an easily accessible walking trail that was suggested by the tourist office. Like most locals I've met, the people at the tourist offices are very friendly and do their utmost to make you feel welcome. All the places visited throughout the holiday had 1 or more information centres that are well equipped to help you select and book any activity available. This makes it practical to organize activities on the go without much prior planning which suited this holiday fine.

To start the cliff walk I first had to get to the seal colony which meant walking the whole bay until I couldn't get any further. At the seal colony there were 4 lazy seals dozing on a patch of grass. They were so photogenic I was envious. Once I reached the seal colony there was a sign pointing to a path for the cliff walk. The walk was then marked by wooden sticks with red arrows and there were steps to help going over the fences that delineate the field boundaries and separate the sheep or cows.

The worth of the walk was evident when I arrived at the top of the hill and the whole mountain range was visible from side to side. A truly amazing view! If you've got a good camera learn how to setup panoramic image shooting because it will come in handy here. Although the weather was fine and sunny it was so windy that my glasses were blown away when I was on the highest hill. This was the first of many other accidents the poor glasses suffered, with the worst being when it was squashed under my backpack with Sheamus standing on it. On my way back the signs ceased to exist but I managed to find the rest of the train after getting my precious jewels shocked against the electrified cow fences.

Kaikoura is renowned for its seafood particularly the crayfish (lobster) for which the village is named (kai – food, koura – crayfish). I tried looking for Crayfish street vendors as recommended by the Korean I met in Christchurch but didn't manage to find them. I ended up having lunch at the Craypot but as much as I like lobster I didn't feel rich enough to spend 60$ for a dish. I had seafood chowder instead. Apart from the origins of the name for the sperm whale I also learned that I don't like chowder. Today I received a mail from an Austrian friend I met in New Zealand and he told me that he went fishing for crayfish and managed to catch one and eat it, so I'd recommend doing this if you're interested in eating a crayfish.

Imagine how many pictures Lonely Planet have to shift through to choose the front cover of a new guidebook edition. Well, from all those pictures they chose one of Kaikoura for the latest edition. I take that as enough proof to say that Kaikoura is one of the most scenic places in New Zealand.

View the complete Kaikoura Gallery here

Costs:

Transport
There's a bus running from the Airport to the city centre which costs $7 NZD.

Christchurch is the biggest city in the South Island and compared to the bigger cities in the North Island it has a much more laid back attitude. I visited the place in potentially the quietest time of the year, on a Sunday in the middle of winter and all the people around the city where divided between Cathedral square and the Botanic gardens.

On my first visit to Cathedral Square in the centre of Christchurch, I saw an old tram carrying tourists around the city. I like the old tram so I hopped on for a short 12 stop trip around the city's main attractions. The most famous building is the gothic Cathedral in surprise, surprise, Cathedral Square which also hosts the millennium chalice. Forgive me if I'm being repetitive but this place is indeed influenced by British architecture. That said I enjoyed taking pictures of the building whenever a Chinese (or Japanese) wasn't in front of the camera.

  

After the tour and more than 24 hours on planes I went to unwind in the botanical gardens. Before I fell asleep on the bench I was sitting on, I made it to one of the few open Asian restaurants and had a Korean BBQ spicy octopus.

Full of octopus I dragged myself to the Foley Towers Hostel which is probably one of the quieter hostels in Christchurch within walking distance of the centre. I was welcomed inside by a German whose name I would have swore my right ball was Katia. In fact I was right, she was a Katia. There's no way anybody could have named her otherwise. Apart from that she was also a good sport and managed a 23 sentence score in the boyfriend naming game. [You're not mentioning that she had an assortment of infectious looking acnes on her face.] Here I spent an extra $2 dollars for a shared room instead of a bunk-bed dorm, but had to ask for a duvet because it wasn't provided. It seems that having a sleeping bag with you is the norm when backpacking in NZ.

View the complete Christchurch Gallery here