CarolineAbbott.co.uk: Carrie's blog

On Thursday, March 8, I took a full-day trip to Fox Glacier. There were a dozen people in the group, led by an 18-year-old Brit called Sam. To reach the glacier, we had to walk through the rainforest and hop across streams. At first glance, the glacier didn’t look particularly impressive, but then I saw a group of tiny figures on it and realised its scale. When we reached the glacier, we attached crampons to our boots and collected a ski pole to help us walk. We spent four hours on the ice, and saw features including caves. The route that Sam took us was quite difficult in places, especially when going downhill. Sam used his pickaxe to create steps when necessary, but he couldn’t do that all the way. I lost my footing on one occasion. It was a hard and fairly painful landing. Sam said that thanks to the good conditions, we had got higher up the glacier than he’d ever been since starting work as a guide in September. I felt a sense of achievement when I looked back at the terrain we had negotiated. It was a very satisfying day.

On Wednesday, March 7, I was behind the steering wheel for the best part of eight hours, as we went from Golden Bay to Franz Josef with only a short break in Greymouth. There were a lot of winding roads up and down mountains and it was crazy to see how high or low we were when just a few minutes beforehand we had been the opposite. I can think of a few people who would disagree, but Silvia said I have a good singing voice and should be in a band. It was lucky she thought so, because there was a lot of singing during that road trip. However, the mood was ruined when the police stopped me for speeding through a quiet little town called Ross. I think Silvia learned some new English words at that point, but I’m not going to say any more about it.

There was an unbelievable sunset in Franz Josef that night, but I failed to notice in time to get myself into a position to take a photo across the mountains.

Exhausted after my drive, I agreed to go out with Silvia for just an hour or so. But when we got to the pub, we were given free shots, and then Silvia apparently decided she was going to pay me beer instead of petrol money. Before I could refuse, and just before Happy Hour ended, she bought a large number of pints. We started playing pool, and were joined by Rory, who worked at our hostel, and a few of his friends, including Becky from Torquay, which is the closest I’ve come yet to finding someone from the same town as me on the other side of the world. Rory had brought a large flask with him and he kept pouring shots for everyone including the guy from the pub.

And that is the last thing I remember. Apparently, at about 2.30am, Jason, an American from the hostel next to ours, walked me back. (He told me this when I bumped into him the next day.) Somehow, I got into the hostel, found the right room – which was challenging enough when sober as all the corridors looked the same – got into my PJs and got into my top bunk. I failed to set my alarm and nearly missed my glacier walk the next morning, but fortunately I was woken by other people in the dorm. Just as I was wondering whether Silvia had gone for breakfast, she came through the door… in last night’s clothes.

It took around three and a half hours to drive from Kaikoura to Nelson, a place with the ugliest church tower I’ve ever seen. Silvia and I treated ourselves to a delicious steak dinner in town.

On Tuesday, March 6, we drove to Kaiteriteri, which had a glorious beach with golden sand and clear water. However, with the sun hidden by clouds, it didn’t look much like the postcards, and the sandflies started eating us alive despite the insect repellent in which we had drenched ourselves.

We took the water taxi, or speedboat, to Bark Bay, which is halfway up the east coast of Abel Tasman National Park and inaccessible by car. On the way, we stopped to look at some seal pups which were two to three months old. The 6.4km walk from Bark Bay to Torrent Bay, through the bush, was supposed to take around two and a quarter hours, but Silvia set a fast pace and it took just an hour and a half, even though we stopped to take photos several times. We had to wait an hour and a quarter for the water taxi to pick us up, so we passed the time by playing on a swing, wading out to a rocky island and splashing around.

None of the backpacker accommodation in Kaiteriteri had any vacancies, so we decided to drive over the mountains to Golden Bay. When we reached the YHA hostel in Takaka, we were told there was only one bed left. However, just out of town was the River Inn. It was built in around 1880 – and you could tell. But it had plenty of space, and that was all that mattered by that point.

For future reference, the part of Golden Bay that we saw was more grey than gold.

The next day, the ferries were operating as usual, but the whale watching boats weren’t taking the risk. I expected to have another quiet day but then I got a new roommate, Silvia, 23, from Switzerland. I took her to see the seals and there were around a dozen this time, including a fairly camera-shy pup. Then we went into town for a bit of window shopping and a drink. Silvia’s English is excellent considering she only started learning two months ago, but whenever she doesn’t know a word, like whale or pigeon, we have to mime it which is hilarious. We were joined at the hostel by Jeannine, also from Switzerland, and we spent the evening eating, drinking and chatting. Silvia decided to come with me on my journey, even though she had already paid for an extra night in Kaikoura and a bus pass.

It was a case of third time lucky for the whale watching, and eventually I got out on the boat, with around 50 other people. At first, we didn’t see anything, except a couple of albatrosses, and the sense of anticipation was immense. Then suddenly we went speeding across the waves and it was an exhilarating ride as I stood on the deck and clung onto the rails. It was so fast my eyes were watering. We approached, and got very close to, a sperm whale, the fourth largest whale in the world. It was about 18 metres long – the same length as the boat. It remained at the surface for several minutes, blowing occasionally, and then it dived down, its tail coming out of the water at the last moment. Then we went in another direction and saw a second sperm whale, and a fur seal. Finally, we came across hundreds of dusky dolphins, and they swam right up to the boat. They were very playful, and were often jumping out of the water. It was incredible and made my dolphin experience in the Bay of Islands seem pathetic in comparison.

I have updated the Kaikoura photo album, as well as the Waitomo Caves album.

On Friday, March 2, after two weeks and 1,742km (1,082 miles), it was time to leave the north island.

Getting Sunny Greg and myself onto the ferry was more straightforward than I had feared, and as I accidentally left my coat in the car and it was too cold and windy to spend long on the observation deck, I slept for most of the crossing, which took about four hours.

I checked into the hostel at Kaikoura, which had an even better view than the one at National Park, as not only could I see snow-capped mountains, but it was right by the sea. Nick, who works at the hostel, said the mountains aren’t usually covered in snow this early in the year. I did the Peninsula Walkway and saw half a dozen cute fur seals lazing about on the shore, as well as a hedgehog.

But then it started to rain. A LOT.

Today, I was supposed to go whale watching, but all trips got cancelled because of the weather. The ferries were cancelled too, and I have spent the day thinking it would have been better to be stuck in Wellington than stuck here. There’s not much to do in Kaikoura, though it’s been so unpleasant I haven’t wanted to step outside. The mountains are totally lost in the cloud. I have been catching up on this blog, writing emails, watching the raging sea from the window, watching TV, reading and keeping Maria from Germany company. Fingers crossed for tomorrow…

On a positive note, I have just about recovered from my major sunburn now!

On Tuesday, February 28, the top of Mount Ruapehu was covered in cloud, which made my decision about doing the Tongariro Crossing a no-brainer. There would have been no point as I wouldn’t have been able to see anything, and I didn’t want another night at National Park. I drove down what I hoped would be the scenic Whanganui River Road. It turned out to be the next road along, but the countryside was still distractingly pretty.

I reached Wellington, and after a few issues regarding navigation and the one-way systems, I checked into my fifth hostel in as many nights. Perhaps it was because I’d just come from National Park, but the hostel, not to mention the city itself, seemed huge and very easy to get lost in. Of course, after a couple of days, I got to know my way around. Fabulous as the New Zealand countryside was, it was nice to be back in a city, and to have lie-ins rather than having to get up and check out.

I immediately liked Wellington. It had an attractive sandy bay, a distinctive parliament building, lots of public art and things to look at, and so many bars and restaurants it would take years to visit them all. I really liked the atmosphere of the place. If I moved to New Zealand, this is where I would set up home.

I took the cable car up to the Botanic Gardens with Toner and Claire, both 25, who I met in the hostel. We played in the playground, and later, at the bay, I taught them the Abbott tradition that is the game Cowardy Custard. We also visited the Te Papa museum, where we learned a lot about New Zealand’s culture, history, wildlife and art.

I drove the three of us, as well as Daniela from Switzerland and Hilde from Holland, to the top of Mount Victoria for an amazing view of the whole city by night. We visited a few bars including Bangalore Polo Club, where we were joined by random kiwis Matt and Rick, the Welsh Dragon Bar where we played pool, and two of the Lonely Planet recommendations in Cuba Street: Matterhorn, where there was live jazz and it was difficult to talk, and Mighty Mighty where, bizarrely, virtually everyone else was dressed as a cat because it was the cat-loving event manager’s leaving do.

The hostel had two decent-sized kitchens and I finally got into the habit of cooking for myself rather than relying on fast food. I thought I might as well buy some supplies while I can put things in the car boot rather than carry them. I thought about advertising the space in the car, to help with the cost, but decided against it as I quite like having the privacy there that I’ve not been getting in the hostels.

I got a good view of the snow-capped Mount Ruapehu, and the volcano next to it, Mount Ngauruhoe, during my flight over Taupo. I got to see them from the other side as I drove to National Park, a tiny village in Tongariro National Park. What I hadn’t been expecting was that I would have a superb view of them from the window of my hostel room. It also turned out that I was sharing a dorm, and a bathroom, with just one other girl, which made a pleasant change. It was a quiet night and I took the opportunity to do some laundry etc.

I went to Taupo because I heard it was the skydiving capital of New Zealand. I thought I would get a great view of the snow-capped mountains and Lake Taupo, which is apparently the size of Singapore and the country’s largest lake.

I didn’t like the hostel though, which seemed to have a poorly designed layout. The shower was cold. There were lots more bugs, including moths the size of small birds. I tried not to spend much time there, and went for a walk around the town and along the river. This was the first place where I noticed a high number of campervans and backpacker buses.

On Monday, February 27, or Day 14 of my trip, I went skydiving for the sixth time in my life. The three companies that offered the activity were alike in price, so I chose Skydive Taupo as it was the one that said I would be picked up by limo and the plane would be bright pink.

I was taken to the airport and ushered into the ‘cinema’ where a film showing what I could expect from the next half-hour was screened. It certainly got me excited. I put on my jumpsuit and was introduced to my instructor Ronnie. We were the last pair, out of eight, into the plane, which meant that we were the first out, but we had the best view as we climbed to 12,000ft. When we jumped out, I grinned as the clouds and lake span around at unnatural angles. We had about 40 seconds of freefall, and at first it was hard to breathe and my cheeks felt very cold. Then the parachute opened and we glided gently towards the ground. Ronnie let me take control until we got so low that we could see the detail of the vehicles and people below us. Our landing wasn’t the smoothest I’ve had; it was a case of getting back to reality with a bump.

I got an extra long ride in the limo on the way back to the hostel because I hadn’t been able to pay by card at the airport and I was taken to a cash machine. The first one refused to pay out any money, which made me start to worry, but I had no problems at the second.

After my caving experience, I drove for two hours 20 minutes to Rotorua, which is apparently New Zealand’s most famous tourist destination. It is known for its hot springs, explosive geysers, bubbling mud pools and smell of rotten eggs caused by clouds of sulphurous gas.

When I went into town for dinner with Nina, 45, from Sweden, I was struck by how artificial the town felt, as all the roads were perpendicular. There were a lot of businesses, but few people around, which felt quite eerie. However, there must have been plenty of bugs because I got absolutely covered in itchy bites. I still had burnt and peeling skin from my cruise in the Bay of Islands, so I looked awful. Everyone kept asking what had happened to me. Nina gave me her insect repellent, which stung like mad on my sore skin, but it didn’t work and I got even more bites overnight.

The next day I went to Te Puia to see the area’s most impressive geothermal spots including Pohutu geyser which spurts hot water up to 30m in the air. I preferred seeing all these features in Iceland a few years ago, but at the centre, I also learned a lot about Maori culture, and saw a performance which included the famous haka. I also saw a live kiwi, but photos weren’t allowed. They’re such odd creatures!

A short distance from Rotorua, I turned down the easily-missable road to Kerosene Creek, on someone’s recommendation. After a couple of kilometres, I reached the car park. A couple of people emerged from the woods wearing very little, and it looked rather dubious. I walked along the river until I reached a waterfall where a group of people were bathing. I dipped a toe in the water and discovered that it was pleasantly warm. Now there’s something my guidebook missed.

On Friday, February 24, I spent four hours driving to Waitomo, but I arrived slightly too late for the last caves tour of the day. As I’d joined the YHA in Whitianga, it made sense to stay at the YHA hostel, which was just across the road from the Legendary Black Water Rafting Company. There wasn’t much else nearby. I had to drive 15km to the nearest supermarket so I could buy some dinner (as I’d progressed from McDonalds/fish and chips to microwave meals). The hostel’s outdoor swimming pool looked less inviting than the sea and its trampoline looked like a death trap, but there were plenty of people around for a chat.

The next day, I did the three-hour Black Labyrinth tour of Ruakuri Cave. There were about a dozen people in my group, including a couple from Devon, and we all put on wetsuits and piled into a minibus with our guides Jess and AK. We were taken to a small river where we each selected an appropriately-sized tube and practised jumping backwards off a ledge with it, as there were a couple of waterfalls in the cave.

Then we went to the cave, and AK sang the Indiana Jones theme tune as we switched on our headlamps and descended into the darkness. Of course, the ground was uneven and the water ranged from ankle deep to neck deep. When it was deep enough, we sat in our tubes and let the river carry us. It felt like a theme park attraction, only better because it was natural.

The highlight was when we switched our lights off and rode our tubes slowly through a cave where the roof was covered with glow-worms, lit up like a starry sky. It was magical. AK started to sing My Heart Will Go On from Titanic, but Jess told her: “Don’t sing that! It’s about a bunch of people dying in cold water!”

We warmed up afterwards with soup and a bagel, and I was left reflecting on what an incredible three hours it had been. I’d nearly given Waitomo a miss as it’s so far out of the way, but I think this will go down as one of the best days of my whole trip.

*I was kindly given a CD of photos from the day, but I haven’t been able to add these to the website yet because I’m using a netbook and it doesn’t have a CD drive.