Sperm Ahoy!

We crossed the Cook strait from the North to the South island without incident and headed down the coast to Kaikoura. It's a great drive through vineyards and rolling hills and then some beautiful coastal scenery with lots of seals lolling on the rocks to observe. Kaikoura is a very small town that is famous for its marine wildlife, the top draw being the Sperm Whale. Amongst the other sea inhabitants that frequent this part of the world are Humpback, Southern Right and Fin Whales. Killer Whales, lots of different Dolphins, all sorts of sharks and loads of birds, the Albatross being the most interesting. That's a picture of a Sperm Whale we came across on the side of a building, its about life size!
The morning after arriving we were booked in for a Whale watching expedition. The weather reports weren't that good (what a surprise) and so we hired some anti-sea sickness bands which you strap on pressure points on both wrists and wouldn't you know it, they worked. We'll definitely have to invest in some of these before doing the return crossing back to the North island, which every person who I've spoken to about it says its a nightmare and maybe we were lucky that it was relatively calm, so I've only got a month to be nervous for then, great! As it turned out, the sea had calmed down loads by the time we set sail and there was only a small half meter swell. We went with Whale Watch Kaikoura as they're the only company around and pretty good they were to, quite a few people on the boat, but mainly there was enough room to have a gander at the whales.
Sperm whales are the world's biggest predator and can grow up to 20 meters in length. Kaikoura is one of the best places to see them as it has a huge undersea trench situated just off the coast and this is where the whales feed. They are deep sea divers and will dive down to depths of 1000 - 2000 meters for up to 2 hours at a time. In Kaikoura they normally dive to 1000 meters for 45 minutes. They go deep to get their favorite food, the Giant Squid. Like a lot of whale watching trips, its basically like watching a floating log that blows off a bit of air every now and then, but at least with Sperm whales, because they dive down to get their food, you get to see their tail as they dive, which is actually very cool. If only you could dive with them...
Why are they called Sperm whales? Well it's a bit mingin, but when whalers first caught a Sperm whale they cut its head open and out poured a sticky, white goo, in fact about two and a half tons of the stuff and being the brainy whalers they were, immediately deduced it must be sperm....from its head? A few years later the real truth became apparent, its actually a type of oily wax, but why does the whale have it? No idea, answers on a postcard please. Anyway the name stuck and it kind of looks like a giant sperm anyway with its weirdly shaped head. On the way back to shore we stopped to watch some Dusky Dolphins frolicking about, leaping high out of the sea and spinning about.
Back on land before we left the next day, we drove along the coast to see the huge colony of Sea lions. They stank, but really nice to watch them chasing each other about and lazing about on the rocks, looking like furry rocks really. You're not supposed to get within 20 meters of them as they can be a bit viscious, but being the kind of crazy take all risks person you know I am, I ventured down onto the beach to get some better snaps. You have to be really careful and inspect each rock carefully in case it really is a seal. I was able to stand on a high rock where I knew they couldn't clamber up (suckers) and photograph away! Hungry from our seal excursion we came across a little place called Nins Bin selling fresh Crayfish, mmmmmm, so tucked into one with just a squeeze of lemon and a pinch of salt. If you haven't had Crayfish before I highly recommend it, not prawny like you might think, more of a meaty taste, not fishy at all. We also bought some Green Lipped Mussels which are apparently world famous and cost a bomb back home, here they're cheap and gorgeous.

More Whale information here.




Film of the Week: Once Were Warriors







Listening to: The Beatles - Love

Lake Taupo - Wellington

After all the exertion, I was desperate to check into the Grand Chateau in Whakapapa (pronounced Phakapapa!) for a hot bath and a big posh bed. I can confirm that this famously fantastic NZ hotel is haunted and last time I stayed there, Bruce and I were tormented all night by ghouls shaking the bed! Either that or it was an earthquake, but nothing quite on the scale of the last big style erruption of Mt. Ruapehu (Mt. Doom) in 1996. It does seem however that we've spent nearly all our pocket money, so we hauled ourselves into the van and set off for Lake Taupo, the biggest lake in the country. At 606 sq km, it was formed 25,000 years ago by one of the greatest volcanic explosions ever known round these parts. It is estimated that the explosion would have produced 800 cubic km of ash and totally destroyed everything in the vacinity. As a result of this tectonic plate movement, the lake is perched 357m above sea level and on a clear day (apparently they do have them) it looks very pretty.

Our aching limbs and frozen toes brought us magically to a caravan park located next to Taupo's natural Hot Springs. We jumped straight into the 40 degree C pool and chilled out Japanese style (except this time partially dressed). You have to remove all silver jewellery because the suphur and minerals turn it black and you can't put your head under the water as you can get amoebic meningitis... a small fact I forgot to mention to Andy and before I knew it he was underwater. With his propensity for ear infections, what was he thinking?! An element of confusion, slow response times and talking nonsense has been a feature of late, but come to think of it no more so than throughout the last 6 years.

Which reminds me, we had our 6 year Anniversary on the 1st November! Except we didn't get much chance to celebrate as we were flying to NZ that day. Perhaps worth a mention is the fact that Andy forgot, so we rescheduled for a date when he would have plenty of time to buy a card. Apparently he hasn't had a chance. Must be all those amoeba occupying his brain. He was given the benefit of the doubt, only to fall at the second hurdle. Still no card or prezzie. When he could bear it no more, I am now in posession of 2 new CDs and a lovely card that I've never been given before. (He finds it hilarious that he gave me the same Valentine's card 2 years running).
Thank-you for the CDs and the lovely card and Kiwi fruit wrapping paper!

Being in a volcanic region is very cool because it smells of rotten eggs and there are areas of the landscape which look out-of-this-world. Such a location is the Craters of the Moon, some 5 km north of Taupo. The forrested area is dotted with steam vents or fumaroles and the occasional bubbling mud pool. It's a bit dangerous to wander off the boardwalk as the ground's all a bit crumbly and boiling - terrible way to go I'd imagine. Still, one kind Dutch bloke risked life and limb to get this great photo of us looking nervously at the camera.

The Huka Falls are another attraction of the region. It's more like a massive rapid of turquoise water and you can take one of those jet boats around them if you dare. A more relaxing watersport, we assumed, would be to hit the lake in a 2-man kayak. There are some really cool Maori Rock Carvings on Lake Taupo which can only be reached by boat. Andy was quite certain that kayaking was going to be his new favourite thing and was about to book us on a 3-day kayaking extravaganza along the Abel Tasman coastal track. Having had one day of disasterous kayaking experience (well, it was an inflatable Funyak) I knew it was a total killer on the arms, so we decided to see how the day went first. At least there wouldn't be any swell on a lake so it would make for a chilled-out adventure.

Or would it? Being a pretty big lake subject to a fair bit of wind, by the time this has whipped up over the surface of the water for a few km, things can get a bit hairy. In reality, this means that a swell of 2 or 3 metres is feasable. At least the weather fairies were looking on us that morning - the lake was mirror-calm and the sun was shining. Fantastic, out luck was on the turn. Donning a gorgeous creation known as a 'kayak skirt' (great for those wanting to disguise a fat lower half) and a life vest, we were all ready to roll. 10 minutes into the exercise, Andy had decided his arms weren't up to the challenge. 15 minutes later, the blue sky totally disappeared and the rain clouds rolled in from nowhere. Soon, we were battling with big waves - paddling very hard but making no headway.

We'd been taught how to stabalise the kayak as much as possible, but we entered a phase when capsizing became a very distinct possibility. Trying our best to hit the waves head-on (Mr. Burns was steering) we battled for a bit until the guide decided it was too dangerous to head out to the carvings. This was much to the disappointment of Mrs Kayak who was weird enough to be in a kayaking club, which had enabled her to do 'lots of kayaking, actually' with her funny brother. She had a Kiwi accent right, but turns out she was from Windsor, and had only been living here 18 months. Very annoying. Worse still, she kept calling her brother 'dude.' So we pansied about for a bit away from the waves before stopping for tea, trying to out do kayak queen.

A passing fling with a bizarre confectionary known as 'lolly cake' (cake with marshmallows in it) and Milo ( a really crap version of hot chocolate) had honorary Kiwi barely able to contain herself, gushing about how this was the best thing about living in New Zealand. What, better than a Cadbury's cocoa and a slice of M&S carrot & orange? Don't make me laugh, you Duke of Edinburgh prom queen. So it was a great shame that we didn't make it to the carvings, but we managed to mask our disappointment better than some. The guide was very sweet and made up for it by telling us about the Maori legend surrounding the lake. The mountains (above left) resemble an ancient beatiful Maori princess who was due to marry some old bloke but she decided to have one last fling before her wedding with a handsome warrior. Anyway, she went and got a baby in there and her Dad went mental, saying she would bring disripute on his tribe and on also on Taupo. So he laid her down by the lake and covered her in stones until she tured into the mountain you see today as a constant reminder to everyone not have an affair before your wedding.

With that in mind, we headed down to Napier - the world's most Art Deco City. The sun decided to shine in time for our photoshoot and the architecture although quite ugly actually looks very cool and you sort of feel like you're on a film set. The town on Hastings in just down the road and is decked out in similar attire. You see, there was a mega, highly-destructive Hawke's bay earthquake in 1931 which resulted in both towns having to be totally rebuilt and regenerated. Given the penchant for pastel and all things cubist at this time, Art Deco was the style of choice. Much of it is fantastically preserved and much of the original glass panelling remains intact.

With our tour of the North Island almost complete (plan is to return to Rotorua, the major geothermal region, for an eggy Christmas), we had one last stop to make - the capital city of NZ, Wellington. Affectionately known to Kiwis as the "Wundy Sooty," I was eager to see what kind of a place my mate Carine would hail from. She said it would be windy - it was. Also that there would be good coffee and a pleasant cafe scene with a great museum. All of these things were indeed correct, so I'm now satisfied that she is a bona fide Wellingtonian and not just some extra from Shortland Street who lost her way and started taking X-rays in Brighton's very own hospital sit-com, Edward Street. The only difference is that staff get better treatment on the telly.

Te Papa or "our place," is the museum of which the country is so proud. And rightly so, it is an enormous place housing a diverse collection of artifacts from whale skeletons, to Maori cloaks and the history of wool. Well, if you skip that section it's very good, especially some of the modern art on the top floor. Not that I don't now know the difference between a Merino and a Drysdale. Here's me trying my hand at shearing a fake sheep - with a barcode scanner. It's a very interactive kind of place where you can stand in a house and experience a simulated earthquake - about or 5 or 6 on the Richter scale, but it was still quite worrying. There is a beautifully carved replica of a Marae or meeting house and a massive photo of the Beatles with a load of greenstone (jade) hanging around their necks some time when they were probably in Wigan town centre. Most fabulous thing of our 7 hour day was discovering a fantastic artist called Charles Goldie. I was very naughty and took a photo of my favourite painting of the week, exhibiting phenomenal detail and a haunting ability to translate emotion into a two dimensional form. He portrays the same model in much of his work for her thought-provoking and enigmatic expression.

Continuing with the cultural theme, we greatly enjoyed watching Borat at the cinema and made the most of Wellingtons ever-changing climate by having a glass of wine in one of the street-side bars. Very nice, some kind of Sav Blanc and it did much to ease the strain of visiting the salon and Christmas shopping. This is going to be contraversial, but I don't think men can cut hair. I've had 3 disasterous haircuts in my life and each time its been a boy weilding the scissors. "Daryl'' just kept slicing into it until there was nothing but wisps left. It's like they have a vendetta against thick hair and want "Hollyoaks Flat" for all. I feel physically sick

when they do that bit at the end, just when you're thinking they're finished and it looks quite nice, and take the scissors extremely randomly and hack into your dry hair. So here I am, with the same haircut I had when I was 5 years old. Literally. The only difference between me now and on my 5th birthday is the hat made of wallpaper with "I am 5" written across the top (except maybe the brown kilt and tights). Not one highlight remains on my Velma affair which strips one of every bit of femininity. At least the wind of Wellington obscures the bowl cut, thus eliminating some of the outward-bounds teacher look. Cheers.


Currently listening to: Sam's Town by the Killers






Currently Reading: Inside Little Britain.

The Tongariro Crossing

When Sam holidayed (without me) in New Zealand about 4 years ago she returned with stories and pictures about the beauty of this small country (pre-blog days). One particular photo stayed imprinted on my Swiss cheese like memory, three blue lakes set within a volcanic landscape. Could we return there so I could see for myself one of the wonders of NZ? A resounding Yes from Samantha, I'll show you the famous Emerald Lakes of Tongariro and show them to me she did.....just about.
The Tongariro Crossing is a well known walk within NZ and is supposed to be the best one day walk you can do here. The scenery is fairly spectacular taking in two inactive volcano's, Mt Tongariro and Mt Ngauruhoe, numerous lakes, waterfalls and many other types of landscape. The walk is an hour or two's drive from Lake Taupo, the biggest lake in NZ smack bang in the middle of the North island.
The day before the walk we checked in with the local Information center to find out the weather reports and to book up some transport to ferry us back to our van after the walk had finished. The weather read: 'fine with some cloudy spells', excellent, at last some decent weather and so we went ahead and booked the shuttle service. We then drove to a little village called Whakapapa (you pronounce the Wha as Fu - I'm not kidding) where we camped for the night in a weird, kinda scary campervan site that could have easily been used as a set for a horror film.
The next day saw us up bright and breezy and on our way to the rendez-vous with the shuttle. The idea is that you park your van at the end of the walk and they drive you to the start, some 17 kilometers away. Only one slight problem, we couldn't find the rendez-vous! No where in sight was the stupid road we were supposed to turn off to meet up with our ride. After a lot of driving up and down and cursing the transport company, we found ourselves fifteen minutes late and realising that they would have left without us, we decided to drive to the start of the walk, walk to the Emerald Lakes which was about half the walk anyway and then come back the same route. $40 dollars (15 knicker) down wasn't the best start to the day (we'd paid for the transport already), but the sun was peering at us from behind the clouds occasionally and we were in the mood for walking.
Arriving at a small carpark in an area called Mangatepopo, we grabbed our packs and set off along the well trodden route with a lot of other walkers. The first part of the walk is all fairly flat and takes you through scrubland down to the end of a valley where you start to ascend. On one side of you are steep scrub covered hills and on the other the imposing figure of Mt Ngauruhoe, reaching up to 2,291 meters high. It also happens to be the mountain that Peter Jackson used to represent Mt Doom in the Lord of the Rings films, cool eh :) The weather was fairly cloudy during this part of the walk and at one point the clouds actually parted and I managed to get a picture of the mountain with a nice blue sky. Our optimism of a sunny day was short lived however as the clouds closed once again and jumpers and jackets that had been taken off were hastily put back on again. In fact this seems to be a recurring theme in NZ, one minute you're basking in the sunshine, the next your scrabbling for your jumper as the cold winds begin to bite. The next part of the walk is all uphill and is pretty hard going, there's no real path, so its clambering up and around and inbetween the rocks and tough grass that litter the mountain side. As we were climbing up the weather started to close in little by little, the mist and clouds descending upon us. The volcanic rocks around us looked exactly like the terrain that Frodo and Sam cross when they're in Mordor and on further investigation this turned out to actually be the place where they filmed it. It's a pretty bleak place as you're trudging up the steep slope, the clouds had by now returned in force and completely obscured Mt Doom to our right. It took us about an hour to get to the top, which I thought was fairly good going considering the weather, the terrain and Hambles little legs. At the top the mist was now everywhere, you could see 10-20 meters around you, but we strode on across the flat sand banks, onwards towards the ever closer Emerald Lakes. After ten minutes we came to the next and last ascent before we reached our goal. This one lasted maybe half an hour and was just as steep as the last one, but this time the weather had really closed in on us, it started raining a fine mist, so that our trousers were wet very quickly, the wind really started getting stronger, not quite enough to blow you over, but pretty strong. We walked heads down, the wind raging around us, our legs aching from the exertion of the climb. Our jackets protected our top halves from the ravages of the weather, Gore-tex, blessed be thy name. We hunkered down behind a big rock away from the worst of the wind and ate some of the sandwiches we'd made earlier and got chatting to a chap called Elliott from Singapore. Its great to meet someone nice to talk to when you're facing testing conditions, it gives you a lift and spurs you on. We finally reached the top of the climb and straight away began the descent to the lakes. The wind was still whipping around us as we slipped and slid down the scree. Half walking, half sliding, we went down sideways to make sure we didn't fall over. I became aware of a smell, a rotten eggs type smell, which caused me to turn around and glare at Sam, but she was further up the slope, so couldn't have been guilty. Where could that heinous smell be coming from? Then in the distance, ooh, at least 20 meters away I could make out the vaguest hint of blue, was it the fabled Emerald Lakes of Samantha's legends. Yes! We'd arrived at the lakes! As we got within a few meters I could see the lakes clearly (ish) through the cloud. Two lakes, one smaller, both a radiant emerald blue colour, a thin strip of sulphurous yellow around their edges. The egg smell was all around us and was coming from steaming vents of gas on the other side of the lake, the volcano still bubbling away far below us. We sat down behind another rock next to the lake and took out our newly acquired thermoses ( thermoi?) and were excited to discover that they had actually worked and kept our water hot and proceeded to have our warming Pea and Ham soup. After eating the remainder of our sandwiches, polishing off a spot of Green tea, we started to make the long trek back to our van. The return ascent of the scree covered slope was a bit of a mare, but the thought of it being our last climb of the day drove us on. We met walkers here and there, appearing out of the mist, asking if there was far to go to the lakes. The rest of the journey back was uneventful and gradually the weather slackened off a bit and allowed us to get a bit of a view of the 'red crater', one of the highlights of the walk normally.
Total walk time including stoppages was seven hours, not to bad considering the weather, steep sections and our generally poor fitness. I got to "see" the lakes in the end and it was an enjoyable experience, but I would like to return one day and do the walk in good weather, the views are normally amazing, here's what it should look like!

Next up: Some sun?




Listening to: Plaid - Rest Proof Clockwork





Film of the Week: Borat

Kia Ora!

Weird. 2 hours 40 minutes to get to New Zealand? Last time it took me about 2 days to get here and about 5 days to recover. We are now 13 hours into the future and as far away from home as we can geographically get, thanks to a rather terrifying flight full of turbulence and a travelling companion doing his childbirth breathing. Auckland is known as the City of Sails and true, there are a few boats knocking around but it kind of pales into insignificance after Syders. In keeping with our passion for climbing up high things, we ventured to the top of the Sky Tower - something I was too lazy and/ or busy drinking to do last time I was here with Bruce, Lovdeep, Mandeep, Sarah & Paul 4 years ago. The Sky Tower looms over the city and is pretty scary because there are glass panels in the floor overlooking the street below!! We both had a go at walking across them, but it sort of makes you feel a bit ill. If you're a nutter you can do a bungy jump from the top. It's funny being back and seeing the same places, like the casino in Sky City where Lovdeep spilt his beer during a game of Blackjack all over the gambling table. There was a lot of fuss involving contacting the on-call cleaner with a mobile hair-dryer, thus holding up everybody's hard gambling for half an hour and thus ruining my Bond-girl moment.

Consisting of two main islands - North and South, NZ is a place of great geographical diversity, given its comparitively small area. The total land mass, including some of the smaller islands adds upto 270,534 sq km (the UK has 244,800 sq km) but is home to a measly 4,158,720 lucky people as opposed to 60,441,457! No more queing in Woolworths (Woolies is a supermarket in NZ & Oz, rather than a crap elderly-shoppers- only retail outley selling overpriced CDs and Pick 'n' Mix). There are mountains, frisky volcanic activity and a more pronounced Maori presence. By contrast, the south island has glaciers, more rain and more mountains. It's a country of unpredictable weather and to keep it green, one minute you're putting on the Factor 30, the next you're reaching for your fleece. So you can be on a beach in the morning and walking up a snowy mountain by the afternoon - NZ has it all. Except indigenous land animals that is. The only indigenous things here were birds, all others have been introduced from other places. Isn't that weird? Good news is that there are no poisonous snakes or spiders, very few great white sharks, scorpions or anything else nasty. There are a few big trees and the Kiwis seem to like their ferns. Little bit of background for you there.

Tomorrow we pick up our new camper van (this time from a company called Ezy - we learnt our lession). Same type of van, only it's furnished with a TV & DVD player, so things sounds promising. In the meantime, we're staying in a brand new backpacker place of indeterminite name somewhere downtown. There's not a lot to do in Auckland, if I'm totally honest, so we headed out to the cinema to watch Flags of our Fathers. The trailer looked awful, but I was talked into it. Anyway, it turned out to be a TRULY awful film, centred around a theme of a flag. There was a bit of debate about who put the first flag up, then there was confusion with a second flag and then there was a lot of war. Hideous.

Well, the new van is brilliant. It's all brand new and has lovely aubergine moleskin furnishings! They won't last five minutes with our crusty feet pawing at them, but it feels posh and that's important after 10 months of not-posh. Vix said to me the other day "Is every day of travelling brilliant?" I shall attempt to address this question by giving you a brief synopsis of our first week in Kiwi-land.

Our first stop was the Bay of Islands. I've seen photos of the place and it looked pretty special, except when we got there, it was very grey and rainy. It's quite an important place historically, as this is where the Treaty of Waitangi was signed in 1838. This was basically an agreement between the Maori chiefs and the Queen of England about land ownership and rights. Trouble is, there was some discrepency at the time about what it really meant and the debate still lingers today. The Maori chiefs conceded their sovereignty to the Queen in exchange for her protection and the granting of the same citizenship rights and privileges to Maori people as English citizens. Basically, this meant that Maori could only sell their land to the Crown and then it would be sold on to other (mainly European) settlers for a fair price. Difficulties have emerged since this time regarding interpretations and translations of the Treaty. We decided not to hang around waiting for the seasons to catch up with themselves (it's supposed to be approaching summer) and drove down to a little-known place called Whangerei.

Whangerei brought us to Tutakaka which is the gateway to the famous Poor Knights dive sites. Dive booked, we headed out for a short walk as recommended by the campsite owner. This short jaunt turned into a 3 hour expedition involving getting lost by missing a fork in the road. There was nothing to see and we just ambled aimlessly around farmland. Though glad to eventually return to our van, we were a bit alarmed to find that the bloke camping next to us kept shooting at unseen things scampering around in the field. He then stuck them on the BBQ for supper (still unidentifiable). Doing our best to ignore Tony Martin, who really was doing too much chuntering to himself than is condsidered healthy in psychiatric terms, we had an early night.

The following morning we were greeted by rainclouds and drizzle. "I'm not diving in this!" The thought of it - water temperature 17 degrees and a 7mm wetsuit? Not me at all. The dive company had actually cancelled the trip anyway, so this was another day wasted. Eager to get on, we legged it South in the general direction of Raglan, a chilled out surfey kinda place (still contemplating that surfing lession). Weather terrible along the way, wipers going at full pelt, so thought that perhaps the beach was not the most favourable desination. Andy was quite keen to head to the Kiwi House in Otorohanga, which is billed by the Lonely Planet to be quite special. Though out-of-date by 4 years, we were too tight to buy a new edition and anyway, I've carried the thing around for 10 months (why, oh why?). Time was not on our side, so we were covering some quick miles to get to Otorohanga. Just before we reached the town however, we saw a car lying on its roof at the side of the road. Some young hoodie had just ploughed into one of the pylons, bringing it to the ground. Not fancying driving over live power lines, we had to take a massive detour in order to reach our planned destination.

There are a few of these Kiwi houses dotted about the country, caring for rescued Kiwis (birds that is, not locals or fruits). If you're ever in Otorohanga and feel the urge, go spend an hour in a public toilet instead - you will have a far more rewarding experience. We had half an hour before the Kiwi House closed - the hoover was already out in the foyer. We shelled out $30 in entrance fees as I was "desperate to do something today." Turns out there was one Brown Kiwi snuffling about in a 'moonlit scene,' which didn't allow flash photography. I know this is upsetting in an already rivetting blog entry, but our hands were tied. I wish they had of been and then I wouldn't have had access to my purse at 5:00pm that rainy Friday in Otorohanga. The rest of the (open air) park was full of ducks enjoying the rain and their dismal pens. The only glimmer of hope was contained in a bird like an owl called (not kidding), a Morepork. It is thus called because it's call sounds like it's saying "more pork," which someone close to me can identify with needing. Poor thing looked too depressed to speak, so I can neither confirm nor deny the reasons behind this bird's ridiculous name. Oh what a joy.

Undeterred, we read more and planned more and shelled out more money for bizarre experiences. If the weather was going to be stubborn, we would have to go underground to avoid it. Waitomo is famous for its glowworm caves. Wai means water and tomo means hole - very appropriate for a place dotted with dangerous shafts which drop unexpectedly through the lush green countryside into underground caverns and streams. They are mostly fenced off to prevent people and cows falling down them. Skeletons of the now-extinct Moa birds (a relation of the cassowary) have been found in some caves, along with the bones of many creatures who ended their days rather unenviably. Long- known by local Maori, the caves were shown to a European explorer in 1887, where tours have been running ever since. Tourism being what it is in NZ however, means that things have progressed from the gentle boat-ride through the caves. You can now abseil 100m into a canyon and squeeze yourself through tiny holes all in the name of fun. We've both read Aaron Ralston's "Between a Rock and a Hard Place" and were in no mood for getting into a situation necessitating self-amputation of limbs. Especially as I had my Swiss army knife confiscated at Auckland airport (they let me keep the bike chain, though how unfortunate all my weapons were stashed in the same festering compartment as my worn knickers - mortified, especially when she put gloves on for the procedure).

Aiming for an in-between level of excitement, we headed out in a truck with a couple of sour Germans and an affable Canadian who lacked any swimming ability. Dressed in wetsuits, gumboots and miners helmets whilst carrying rubber rings, we looked quite gorgeous against the surreal English countryside backdrop. Our guide, from Cave World, was a bit odd and insisted on taking many (mostly rubbish) photos to capture our Teletubbies moments. Before long, we happened upon our cave and descended through the ground. Immediately dark, we instantly saw our first small cluster of glowworms. We were told to listen very carefully to the noise of the water dripping from the stalagtites onto the stream below. It was at this point when the guide (the incongruously named Rodney) popped a balloon and nearly scared us to death. As soon as he did this though, the glowworms glowed even brighter which looked very pretty, but there was a lot of "Mein Gott!!" from one corner of the cave.

Glowworms are actually gnat larvae with luminescent organs (lucky things). They weave sticky threads which hang down from the cave ceilings and attract other insects with their lights. NZ and OZ (a remnant from when the two countries were joined together) are the only two places in the world where you can see them. Rodney said we were likely to feel eels wriggle past our legs in the water, encounter cave wetas and massive spiders. For most of the trip our headlights were to be switched off, so maybe this was a good thing. It was then time to start tubing! Sitting in our rubber rings, and reeling from the water temperature, we formed a line by securing the feet of the person behind us under our arms. We then let the river take us downstream in the most surreal ride ever. Straight away we were treated to a galaxy of glowworms above us. Another balloon explosion later and they were all shining like a million faraway stars. I did worry about the non-swimmer as the water was out of our depth, so I held onto his feet very tightly.

We became aware of a waterfall ahead of us which became more scary the louder it sounded. By the time we reached it, being first in line, I was told to jump off the waterfall, bottom first, ring in position. It was very weird and quite scary falling several metres into the darkness, not knowing how deep it was or where my ring would end up. A massive splash at the bottom meant I'd made it, and I sat with the eels until everyone else had done likewise. The second waterfall had a slide underneath it, but you had to lie back with your head in the rapids. Very weird and quite unlike those at Wet 'n' Wild.

Not being too good with small spaces (just to add to his list of made-up phobias), young Andy did very well. There were a couple of moments where you had to squeeze through a small space but nothing too bad. The final drift downstream towards the cave opening in our bizarre little train, someones wellies under my armpits, was made more atmospheric by Rodney's rendition of the NZ/Maori national anthem. We said goodbye to our glowworm friends and headed back to sea level for hot soup and showers. So no, every day of travelling is not always brilliant, but you know there is something wicked just round the corner. I think the NZ extreme activities have begun!





Currently listening to: Russel Brand Podcast.









Currently drinking : Oyster Bay Merlot

Sydney & The Blue Mountains

On our way down to Melbourne we dropped in to visit the Blue Mountains. I know we've done the Melboune blog, but these mountains sit an hour or so out from Sydney, so seemed more appropriate to go on the Sydney blog, so there you go. The town of Katoomba is the gateway to the mountains and has the feel of a place removed from time, stuck as it is in the 1920's. That's not a particularly bad thing its just a bit weird. It's an easy walk to the edge of town where you're greeted by basically the kind of awe inspiring sight that's probably a bit similar to the Grand Canyon, only a lot greener....and bluer, sufficed to say that it's all very gorgeous. The question then: Why are they called the Blue Mountains? Well, its because of all the Eucalyptus trees whose grey blue colouring gives them a blueish tint, its not all jokes on this blog, oh no. One of the key attractions here are the Three Sisters, a formation of peaks, yup, three of them that just look damn fine and especially nice at sunset when they look a particularly groovy golden colour.
It's an incredibly beautiful place spoilt only by the hoards of flys that attacked us whenever we ventured into the open and as we were in a National Park we were in the open a lot. Hopefully the fly epidemic is a short, seasonal one, cause otherwise it wouldn't be worth going, its that bad. Unfortunately and fortunately we had only an afternoon in the mountains as the long drive to Melbourne was about to begin.
Fast forward a few days and another mammoth and nightmarish drive later, we were in Sydney. Wow! Sydney's a city we've all seen countless times on the Tv, especially the famous harbor with its distinctive bridge and futuristic Opera House, but to actually arrive here and walk through the gorgeous Botanical Gardens and then stare across the harbor was a moment that will live long in my memory. I ran out of superlatives shortly after arriving in Tokyo to use in the blog and have been re-using the same ones for the last 10 months, but Sydney harbor has had me looking in my newly acquired thesaurus and so without much further a do, I name you, Sydney harbor.....Out-of-this-World! Implausibly phantasmagorical! Pulchritudinous! Simply Breath-taking! Yes, I did like it :) It's a hard scene to leave, but eventually we dragged ourselves away and as the clouds were appearing over the sun, we took the brave decision to head inside the Sydney Aquarium. I won't bang on about it to much, as we've been to plenty of aquariums on this trip, but it's a good one, with two really big tanks filled with some very nice sharks, including our old friend the Grey Nurse Shark (Just in case you missed it, here's my shark video again).
After quenching our thirst for the undersea kingdom, we met up with our old work mate Vix, who is as fantastic a person as ever and let us stay in her gorgeous flat for the weekend, whilst she moved out to her mates place, how nice is that? The only photo of all three of us isn't the greatest, we did really have a good time :)
Almost a year ago, our work chums bought us a leaving present and that was two tickets to walk over the Sydney harbor Bridge. We've carried those tickets with us for the last 10 months and not managed to lose them, which meant we actually had to do it. Gazing up at the bridge I was starting to wonder how my fear of heights (Acrophobia) was going to cope with yet another stupidly high structure, Sam on the other hand was chuntering on about how she couldn't be bothered, she was too hot, etc ( Chuntering, from the verb To Chunter, meaning : To go on, to talk incessantly about nothing, banging on, etc). We filed into the Bridge Climb office and presented our golden Willy Wonka style tickets. The Bridge Climb company has got there business down to a fine art and you're processed through the whole experience with impressive slickness, every staff member is friendly and it seems every tiny detail has been thought of. The only real shame is that you can't take a camera in case you drop it down onto the traffic, but it's a minor point as you get a free pic anyway. The whole thing takes three and a half hours and of that, two hours is spent on the climb itself. First you have to kit up in blue and grey jumpsuits, apparently so you blend in with the bridge and are less distracting to drivers, then you get breathalysed and have to pass through a metal detector, no drunks on this trip. Next up were accessories. Unsurprisingly this was when Sam started warming to the whole thing and ended up having every available accessory. The hat, the hankie, the hairband and the elastic tether for her shades. We then got our harnesses on which have a safety line that attaches to a steel wire that runs the whole length of the walk around the bridge. Then there's a practice section of the bridge laid out, where you climb a ladder and stroll across a walkway to practice moving around with your safety line. Just before you go onto the bridge, you're all kitted out with headsets so you can hear your guide, in our case a bloke called Michael who was brilliantly funny and made the whole walk even better.
Walking out onto the street in our spangly jumpsuits to walk down to the bridge we felt like complete muppets, before entering a building, climbing some stairs and then clipping onto the safety wire and starting the walk. The first section of the walk is the worst and if you're not keen on heights, frankly a nightmare :) You walk along a gantry to get to the arch of the bridge. This runs for about 150 meters or so, with the ground below you gradually descending to meet the river. You start at about 20 meters and end at about 70 meters high, the problem is that the walkway is basically a steel mesh and so you can see everything below you. I was shaking like a sh*ting dog! To make matters worse, you all stop every now and then to have a look around at the terrifying view of the roads beneath you whilst being told that this is the section most people find the scariest, great. If that wasn't bad enough, one section of the gantry seemed to be a temporary section, whilst some work was going on and appeared to be held up by some wires, this just happened to be at the highest point, it still makes me shiver :) Eventually we reached the huge stone columns that you can see in the photographs and began to climb a series of ladders to reach the bottom of the arch. This meant that you climbed level with and then above the road with cars and trains thundering past your head, quite cool. Once we reached the arch itself I breathed a sigh of relief. Walking up the arch is the easy bit, there are handrails on either side of you, its really, really wide and completely solid, no seeing whats below you're feet. You can equate it to climbing a mountain and like most mountains, the views are spectacular! You can't quite believe you're up there staring down at the Opera House and arguably the most beautiful harbor on the planet. Once again its an experience that will stay with us forever and so a massive thanks to everyone on CCU that chipped in for it and especially to Lucy whose idea it was and to James for sorting it out! The return journey along the gantry proved to be just as scary, so thanks for that to!

What more could you want from a day? Well for Sam, courtesy of a free ticket from Vix, things were about to get even better. As a surprise, she was told just a few minutes before she went that she was going to see Kylie on her comeback debut! As Vix only had the one ticket I headed into town and bravely sat in McDonalds stuffing my face before heading into the arcades to shoot the crap out of some bad ass computer dudes. I met the girls afterwards who were smelling of cheap fizzy wine and looking a bit teary from the emotion of it all and had clearly had a brilliant time of it. The photos looked great actually and the lightshow featuring lots of lazers, had me wishing I'd been able to go myself.
We spent our final day in Sydney down and around Bondi beach. The beach was rammed with folk as it was a weekend and we were really there to have a walk around the clifftops nearby where there was a sculpture festival on. There was some great stuff on display, looking even better against the backdrop of the cliffs and the sea. We sat down at another bit of the harbor later enjoying some beers, before getting on a ferry for a last look at the bridge and Opera house. We spent our last night in Sydney at a Czech bar, followed by a Thai take-away. How very Australian!

Sydney Slideshow





Currently Reading: New Zealand - Lonely Planet








Listening to: The Beatles - A Hard Days Night