Chance encounters off the beaten track

Having picked up our very exciting Toyota Hilux in Christchurch we had no time to waste: I'd booked us onto the Routeburn Track tramp 2 days later, which starts close-ish to Queenstown, about 6 hours drive, and we needed to arrange transport to and from the track end points before then. 

With Anne, in Geraldine

We took off down Route 1, taking us south-west.  Route 1 just happens to pass through a small town called Geraldine, where an old friend of Duncan's family emigrated to a couple of decades ago.  As we passed through, we figured we should drop in, in true Kiwi style.  One google later, and we had Anne's work address, and 20 minutes later, were sitting in her office swapping stories.  She generously invited us to stay at her home and bach (kiwi for cottage) further down on the east coast - which we'll try to fit in to our plans.

Glorious Mount Cook

But first on to Queenstown.  The road took us straight across country, past endless fields of purple, pink and yellow wild lupins and the famous Lakes Tekapo and Pukaki.  Sadly we probably won't have time to go to Mount Cook, but the views north from the bottom of Lake Pukaki are legendary. 

Thank goodness we still had fantastic weather to get some great photos.  Winding through the mountains, Duncan happy behind the wheel, we loved the drive - SO much more comfortable than the motorhome! We passed through Twizel, Omarama and Cromwell - now in wine country - and reached Frankton, just next to Queenstown, around 9.30pm.  Arriving at our hotel, we were greeted with the lady on reception complaining that she had to wait up for us... not the first time we've noticed that some New Zealanders haven't mastered the art of customer service  yet.  Oh well.  The room was lovely and we had a real bed, private bathroom and working WiFi (sounds small but this was HUGE after 3 weeks in the van).

Sunset over Eyre Mtns, Queenstown

The next day we went into Queenstown to sort our logistics for the Routeburn Track hike.  What we hadn't realised, or experienced in NZ before now, was just how busy it would be.  Queenstown is the outdoor activity hub for South Island - loads of companies offering bungee jumps, sky dives, jet boat rides, white water rafting, para-gliding, heli rides and more.  It's situated right on Lake Wakatipu, surrounded by mountains and is quite stunning.  It's also filled with bars, restaurants, mountain gear shops and tourists.  Everywhere.  So much so that it feels like a ski resort in the sunshine. We headed straight for the I-site, where we found out that we'd missed a trick.  The start and end points of the Routeburn Track are about 1 and 3.5 hours from Queenstown respectively, IOW, 4.5 hours apart.  

So you can either purchase expensive shuttle tickets to get from Q'town to the start and then back from the finish, or pay an even more expensive vehicle relocation service to drive your car from the start to the finish for you to pick up once you complete the hike.  The latter was our preference, as we needed to go straight to Te Anau, about an hour from the track end, once we'd finished.  BUT...both car relocation services were fully booked and try as we might, we couldn't rearrange any of the track hut bookings.  So, our only option would be to take a shuttle 3.5 hours back to Q'town, and get in the car and drive it 3 hours straight back to The Anau.  Bummer.  By the time we had it all sorted, we were pretty exhausted and took the rest of the day to relax. We had an early start the next day...

Friday morning had us, with 3 days worth of food and clothing, packed and ready to go by 7am.  We were joined in our mini-van by a mother and daughter couple from the North Island, on the trip to Glenorchy, a small town at the top of Lake Wakatipu, where the Routeburn Shelter marks the start of the trek.  Boots on the ground around 10am, we set off, up through the red beech forests.  Sun poking through the leaves and branches, the track led us up the crystal-clear Route Burn (river) gently climbing the Routeburn Gorge.  Crossing lots of swing bridges, the track gradually got steeper and steeper - not easy with our heavy packs - and the red beech was replaced by

mountain beech.  We stopped off to take a look at the Routeburn Flats - a track shelter on a beautiful flood plain, surrounded by the stunning Humboldt Mountains.  Another hour up the still steep track, and we finally reached our stop for the night: Routeburn Falls Hut.  A new hut, sleeping 50 people in bunks, it's situated just below the spectacular Routeburn Falls, with views across the valleys towards Mount Xenicus and Erebus.

We chose our bunks, had a rest with a cuppa and chatted to the other hikers arriving.  The mother/daughter pair had arrived; mum had emigrated to NZ 26 years previously with her husband and owned a huge goat farm in Matamata. Duncan got chatting to a father-son couple (Paul and Louis) and within minutes we established that we had all been in the same restaurant on the same night in Wellington, when we met with Paul and Bindy.  Turns out Paul and Paul were great mates - what a small world!  We were to have a lot of fun with all these guys over the next few days...

After exploring the Falls, everyone in the hut busied themselves cooking dinner.  Freeze-dried was the menu of the day for most.  Only the experienced brought fresh vegetables, which of course everyone else eyed up with envy.  With a couple of hours before lights-out, the DOC ranger came and gave us a talk on local flora, fauna and a DOC ranger's day to day life, before the trekkers gradually headed off to the bunk room, ear-plugs at the ready.

We woke to a cloudy day.  Yesterday's great views of the mountain peaks were gone and the sky looked drizzly.  We set off after breakfast, an 11.3km hike above the tree line, taking us over Harris Saddle and down to the Lake MacKenzie Hut.  We had moments of sun breaking through, or getting fleeting glimpses of the peaks around us, but nonetheless, the scenery was magnificent.  Over the Harris Saddle, crossing from the Mount Aspiring National Park into the Fiordland National Park we were high above the Hollyford Valley; hectares of ancient beech forest beneath us and the Hollyford river winding its way to Lake Alabaster and 

Martin's Bay beyond.  As we descended off the high mountain, we suddenly found ourselves in the silver beech forests we'd been admiring from above.  It was like walking into Narnia, or a some other fairy story.  All sorts of mosses, dripping off the rocks and trees, gave the forest a quiet, soft feel, enveloping us in cool tranquility.  A few birds hopped and fluttered in the branches, each with very distinctive calls.  Water rushing over fallen trees and rocks, this landscape is anciently old, but constantly changing; falling, shifting, rotting, growing.  If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I'd think it was fake.

The long downward trail took its toll on knees and ankles, but Lake MacKenzie was in sight, a kilometer long, with the DOC hut nestled at the far end.  It seemed deceptively close, and we finally got there around 3pm, 5 hours of hiking later.  Another cuppa, a half hour walk to the end of the lake, we managed to squeeze our way through Split Rock in our flipflops.  Not the most appropriate footwear, but we were too glad to have taken off our hiking boots. Bigger than the hut, this rock has a huge gash down the middle, pitch black inside, but who can resist the chance of climbing straight through the middle of a rock?

Lake MacKenzie and the DOC hut

Another freeze-dried gourmet meal (we both agree that we need a menu rethink for the Kepler Track) and we spent the evening playing a new, never-ending, made-up card game with Paul, Louis, Kate and her Ma.  Interrupted only by the DOC ranger, who fascinated us with an insight into the decline of the bird populations in New Zealand, due to the explosion of possums, rats and stoats on the

islands, and the current programmes to try to reduce or eradicate these pests in order to save the birds from extinction.  Before humans came to New Zealand, there were no land based mammals, so birds were not predicated on.  James Cook remarked on the 'deafening noise' of the birds in the forests.  Now you only occasionally hear them due to them being such easy prey for the pests, who themselves are not predicated on.  It's shocking to hear how the introduction of 'foreign' animals can go so badly wrong for the indigenous species.   Thank goodness the DOC are trying to rectify the balance.

The last day's hiking took us back through the forest, listening out for the cry of the kea and spotting occasional South Island tomtits, fantails and riffleman.  The trail took us right up to the base of the 174m high Earland Falls, showering us with spray.  We detoured up to the top of Key Summit to an alpine wetland and magnificent views of the Darren Mountains and Hollyford Valley.  An hour later we were at The Divide - the end of our hike - and were joined by Kate, mum (we never did get her name!), Paul and Louis.  A long coach journey back to Q'town and we said our goodbyes.  We've had such fun with them, that I can't believe we won't see them again one day.

Paul, Kate, Mum, Louis and us

Rather than jump straight back down the road we'd just bussed up on, Duncan and I joined the over-long queue for a Q'town institution:  the legendary Fergburger.  There is a constant queue for this place, any time of day.  So an 40 minutes later we had our grub, drove to a good picnic spot on the lake and wolfed them down. We've got a 2 hour drive back to Te Anau, and it's already 8.30pm.  Off we go. Goodbye Queenstown, you're fun, but we prefer being off the beaten track.

Dinner on the dash