27-28 March
After leaving Codfish Island we made our way to Dunedin and spent a couple of days cruising the streets. Saw the Otago Museum and Botanic Gardens and walked through the University of Otago student housing neighborhoods. A feeling and smell of autumn that left a permanent grin on my face and a quiet laugh in my voice.
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| Aviary in the Botanic Gardens |
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| The Train Station |
29 March
Dunedin Farmers Market.
Drove to the Otago Peninsula to see the Royal Albatross colony. 1m tall, 3m wing span. Wings lock into place for ultimate soaring capability and lowest caloric expenditure. Most tremendous birds I've ever seen.
Dusk at Sandfly beach.
30 March
Spend the morning on walking tracks to Lover’s Leap and the Chasm.
Drove to Oamaru for early 20th century buildings and SteamPunk Headquarters.
Side trip to the Moeraki Boulders.
Found some ancient Maori cave drawings.
We decide to detour to Mt. Cook/Aoraki rather than head straight up to Christchurch.
It is truly becoming Autumn.
31 March
Aoraki/Mt Cook National Park
Red Tarn walk to stunning evening Aoraki views.
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| Cloud Piercer |
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| Mt. Sefton |
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| Aoraki (Mt. Cook) |
1 April
Long day hike to Mueller Hut via Sealy Tarns
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| Sealy Tarn |
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| Jamie and Aoraki |
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A Loo with a View!
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2 April
It ends like this, or so it would seem. Broke down road side on a tank top and shorts hot autumn afternoon. Mt. Cook and the Alps our backdrop on the horizon. Now introducing Aoraki and the Alps! Shoo-bee-doo-bop, shoo-bee-doo! An avalanche of applause for the mighty Cloud Piercer and his peaked ensemble. He steals the show, all 3700 meters of him. 
Our curious, cautious onlookers, a peanut gallery of curly headed moo cows streaked in mud sweat shit. “Mooo - you shoulda checked your fluid levels this morning.” “I could tell from here your engine is only firing on 3 outta 4 cylinders - Moooo!” “Ohh girls - Moooooooo - a new head gasket is gonna cost moooooore than you paid for the van.” “This is not a perm, Mooooo, it’s a characteristic of my breed - Mooooo.” Thanks for the advice ladies. I still think it’s a perm from a fashion conscious farmer, though.
Anyway, you can still sleep in a tin rectangle on wheels, even if it don’t go no where. So we’re towed to Tekapo and sleep in the car doctor waiting room in TinTin’s belly.
“From the sounds of it, it’ll cost you to fix it more than you paid for it, but we’ll see for sure when I test it in the morning. You can sell it for parts in Christchurch, but you’re looking at hundreds of dollars, not thousands.” Gulp. So this is how it ends. By beautiful lake Tekapo under a dark night sky littered, scattered with bright, twinkling stars. Another part of the adventure, just days before we’d be in Christchurch finding a new traveler to bestow on TinTin. Now we be towin’ not bestowin’. Anicca, anicca. We’ll see what the morning brings.
Lake Tekapo:
3 April
Looking up Car Wreckers in Christchurch… All our fears are confirmed. Ah, just roll with the punches. AA Plus membership worth its weight in gold. They pay to tow TinTin to Tekapo. They pay to tow him on a long-haul tow truck to ChCh and pay 5 nights of our accommodation. Over $1,000 total they pay out! Thank you AA!!
4 April - 11 April
Bummed around ChCh in dim and dismal weather.
Botanic Gardens. Canterbury Museum. Making new friends at the hostel.
Christchurch, since the 2011 and 2012 earthquakes, has, by word of mouth, been given the reputation of a crippled city with nothing to do and no where to go. After spending a little over a week in the biggest city on the south island I must disagree wholeheartedly. Yes, a few years back the city was hit by two very strong earth quakes that nearly destroyed most of the city centre. They're still taking old buildings down to rebuild, and it's quite eerie because the whole city centre is still shut down and looks really post-apoctalyptic like a zombie might stagger around the corner at any moment. Shops still have specials written in the windows and newspapers on the tables from 2011. 185 people died and many people's houses and major community buildings, like the old cathedral, crumbled and fell or were flooded and destroyed by soil liquefaction. So many buildings and houses are derelict and unsafe to be in and are awaiting demolition.
Having never really seen the effects in person of a natural disaster, this little insight really puts into perspective how devastating and harsh nature can be and how long it can take to recover. However, now that the dust has settled ChCh is rising from the ashes into a new era. They have an opportunity to rebuild their city with a flare of hope and modern vibrancy that will only strengthen and unite the community. Efforts to restore and remake are city wide and I commend ChCh for its resilience and commitment.
Christchurch, since the 2011 and 2012 earthquakes, has, by word of mouth, been given the reputation of a crippled city with nothing to do and no where to go. After spending a little over a week in the biggest city on the south island I must disagree wholeheartedly. Yes, a few years back the city was hit by two very strong earth quakes that nearly destroyed most of the city centre. They're still taking old buildings down to rebuild, and it's quite eerie because the whole city centre is still shut down and looks really post-apoctalyptic like a zombie might stagger around the corner at any moment. Shops still have specials written in the windows and newspapers on the tables from 2011. 185 people died and many people's houses and major community buildings, like the old cathedral, crumbled and fell or were flooded and destroyed by soil liquefaction. So many buildings and houses are derelict and unsafe to be in and are awaiting demolition. Having never really seen the effects in person of a natural disaster, this little insight really puts into perspective how devastating and harsh nature can be and how long it can take to recover. However, now that the dust has settled ChCh is rising from the ashes into a new era. They have an opportunity to rebuild their city with a flare of hope and modern vibrancy that will only strengthen and unite the community. Efforts to restore and remake are city wide and I commend ChCh for its resilience and commitment.
7 April
Our friend and fellow volunteer on Codfish Island, Katja, is a guest lecturer on Atmospheric Science in Antarctica at the University of Canterbury, Christchurch and we sit in on her class. Yay learning!
11 April
TinTin finally arrives. We sell him to ChCh local Antony and he guarantees he’ll fix him up and put him back on the road one day. A pretty happy ending and satisfactory goodbye to TinTin after all we’ve been through together. Happy trails, buddy! Viva la TinTin!
On our last night, I pull autumn leaves yellow and crumpled out of my pockets and mistake them for falling stars piercing the lamp light, flashing brightly then dying in the orange haze of this predawn morning.
12 April - 16
Cass Lagoon Track in Craigburn Forest Park.
My final New Zealand multi-day tramp.
My final New Zealand multi-day tramp.
The hours and the cloudy haze of today appear to be the same. They pass by lazily without hurry or concern of the phoenix city just mere kilometers east down the hills, a city rising from the ashes of its remains. Life in Christchurch scrolls on as usual. The sounds of earth rumbling construction, of flashing orange lights and matching traffic cones. Tearing down a city only to build it back up again. I spent a few days a gape in the post apocalyptic beauty that has become ChCh. The decay has a haunting art to it as well as the juxtaposition of regrowth, hope and rebirth that the community strives to promote and accomplishes.
But none of this is important to the scree fields of the Craigburn range that tumble helplessly and fluidly into Hamilton Creek. The babble of the creek and the mist over the tussock laid peaks are there while the choir boys sing their high pitched hymns between the bleach white A-frame of the Cardboard Cathedral. The tourist filled trolleys tug tug along through the construction laden streets as I stoke the fire in this cozy hut and rearrange the disembodied arms of beech trees I made stove sized with an axe in the drizzle of this morning. They are unrelated events happening simultaneously, the buzz of city life rebuilding and the calm of nature enduring. I have been a part of each in the last week. Roaming the earthquake shaken sidewalks with friends new and old spinning yarns and sharing laughs. Trekking through tussock shoulder high as a light, damp snow falls from an ash grey sky. I am at home in both worlds but could never have one without the other. What does that make me? A tree-hugging city slicker. A pavement chasing rock hopper. Howling under a full moon street lamp.
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| Full Moon |
And here are some random photos of Jamie and I with baby rabbits for your viewing pleasure:
