A wee note about a proper holiday in the bush

Well, so much to say. After travelling with the Weakley family and a somewhat random assortment of their other adopted children for the week, I learned quite a bit more about Kiwi mores. First, apparently I have been breaking a key Kiwi fashion rule by wearing sneakers with blue jeans. This fashion faux-pas is called “sneads”— a combination of sneakers and jeans. Also, I learned that I stand out as an American by my spiral notebooks, straight teeth, and white socks. Kiwis use a certain brand of stapled notebook (spirals are a luxury), don’t have dental insurance (the reason for crooked teeth), and wear dark socks.

Last Sunday, I left Christchurch with Hannah, the oldest Weakley sibling, and headed south toward Dunedin. On the way, we stopped in Timaru to pick up Hannah’s “friend,” Johnny. I felt slightly awkward around them, but I wasn’t sure quite why. Then, mid-way through the week, I realized they were a couple, and that I had been an oblivious third wheel. Anyhow, we then passed through Oamaru, where one of New Zealand’s most famous writers, Janet Frame, lived. Finally, we reached Dunedin, where we met up with Hannah’s brother Dan at his flat. (A quick note about “flats”: flats are run-down houses without heating and in various conditions of disrepair occupied by groups of students.)

On Monday, all of us departed for Queenstown, passing the town of Waihola along the way. Waihola welcomes visitors with a sign at its city limits that reads:

Waihola:

No Doctor

No Hospital

One Cemetery

I suppose that is New Zealand humour. We spent Monday getting “all sorted” (organized) with gear and food and other tramp preparations. Murray (Mr. Weakley) checked the weather for the track and warned us that there might be a bit of snow on the second day, which would also be the hardest day. Tuesday came quickly, and we departed early for the Routeburn Track.

Once there, I put on my pack, heavy with clothes, food, and everything else one might need for three days of primitiveness. We took a group picture and headed up the track. Brigid, Hannah, and Johnny decided to walk in because the weather was good. After fifteen or so minutes of tramping, my pack got heavy. After another half hour I couldn’t keep up with the group’s quick pace. And then the track got steeper. My pack got heavier still. I suppose my lack of tramping strength became obvious, because Brigid soon hinted that it might be good, actually necessary, for me to keep up with the group. When I couldn’t do that, Murray told me a bit more bluntly that I’d have to move quickly, especially when it would get cold, or else I would get hypothermia. If I slowed down, he said, the whole group would slow down, and then it followed that we’d all get hypothermia. So, I realized that I ought to head back out with Brigid and crew instead of pushing on—a disappointing but probably sound decision.

(Later, Murray described the Routeburn to one of Dan’s flatmates as a “lovely walk” that was “quite nice.” It didn’t seem to bother him to much that it rained the entire second day and that they walked through snow on the third. I guess I just don’t have tramping blood in me . . .)

I spent the following day in Wanaka by myself, as Brigid needed to visit a sick friend there and Hannah and Johnny wanted some time together. On Thursday, we regrouped and drove the five hours to the other end of the Routeburn. After picking up the trampers, we drove to Milford Sound, another hour or so, through a huge tunnel. Milford Sound ranks among the most popular places to visit on the South Island, but it takes a bit of effort to get there. I must admit I couldn’t exactly find the excitement in driving for two extra hours to see a foggy fiord, but, alas, we got to our next motel in Te Anau soon enough.

On Friday, we drove as a big group to Invercargill, the southernmost city on the island, to see the water tower there. Yes, the water tower. Laura, Dan’s girlfriend and a native of Invercargill, jokingly recommended that we spend our extra day there. So to Invercargill we went. After several hours in the car, we arrived, took a picture with the glorious water tower (actually listed as an attraction in my Eyewitness Travel book; it’s worth checking out the album to see it), and walked around the city centre for a few minutes. And then, we left. After another couple of hours of rainy scenery, we arrived back in Te Anau. I have seen quite a lot of scenery and sheep this week, but I was getting weary of “oohing” and “ahhing” by this point.

In Te Anau, all nine of us ate dinner and some enjoyed German beer. (Christoff, a German student who lived with the Weakleys several years ago, was there, and the German beer was in honour of him). That night, like others, Brigid and Murray enjoyed “a nice cup of tea” with their German beers. Tea and beer—a perfect New Zealand combination!

A few quick notes:

1. 9-11 is “12-9” here: it was the 12^th of September here when the attacks happened, and New Zealanders write the date in day/month/year order.
2. There are arrows on the roads pointing in the direction cars are supposed to drive. Murray told me this was the case because often tourists forget which side of the road on which to drive and cause head-on collisions.
3. Children call their parents by their first names instead of “Mum” and “Dad.”

Tonight we returned to Christchurch, and tomorrow I leave again for more travels.

Because Kiwis like to abbreviate just about everything, tomorrow I’m off to Welly and Ozzie!