Paradise Found

This just in...it feels like vacation again.  After a short hop over the Tasman Sea and a big hug for our pilot, we closed the door on Oz, tiptoed across the hall, and swung open the next door to find New Zealand beckoning.

For the first time since Singapore, a friendly face greeted us at the airport.  Rosie, a friend from Turkey and native Kiwi, housed us, fed us, chauffered us, and rekindled our excitement for being on the road.  From the "busker" shows (a fancy New Zealand word for "street performers") to an all-day outdoor music fest, to the bustling pub scene, we were treated to the best of Christchurch summer.

Our first order of business after settling in was rebuilding our paltry cache of remaining gear for the upcoming excursions.  We received phenomenal assistance in this quest from our beloved friends at gear manufacturer, Kelty.  Our connection there (code name: Bizz) donated two brand new backpacks, a Pawnee 3300 and a Coyote 4500, which were shipped to intercept us in Christchurch.  Thanks again Kelty and Bizz - we can´t say it enough!  With our newest companions on our backs, Rosie graciously spirited us to all of the city´s most promising second-hand stores, where we bedecked ourselves in all of the best fashions of the 80´s and 90´s.  Ben even scored his first denim since college, inheriting a pair of castoff jeans from Rosie´s flatmate, Warren.

Rejuvenated and resupplied, our wanderlust flared up and we embarked on a three week, counter-clockwise tour of New Zealand´s South Island.  Heading north from Christchurch, we skirted the stunning Pacific coast, stopping occassionally to skip gleefully down a deserted beach or watch a seal lumber awkwardly across the rocks.  We stayed in an enjoyable string of mom and pop hostels under the BBH affiliation, which we found to be traveller-run and cozy.

Our chariot, eventually named Lyle, became a welcome sight to New Zealand´s plentiful hitchhikers, as we repaid the kilometers that we had borrowed while thumbing in Europe.  The hitchhikers gave back too; one of them spilled milk all over the backseat, leaving a smell that insured we could not forget her for the rest of our roadtrip.  At the suggestion of a roadside info booth (we really were that desperate for solutions), we applied a top coat of vinegar to the backseat in hope of removing the stench.  This left us with an odiferous conglomeration best described as what you would smell if you were dying Easter eggs, ran out of eggs, and decided to proceed with roadkill instead.  Neadless to say, the windows stayed down for the rest of the trip.

Upon reaching Golden Bay, at the northern tip of the South Island, we treated ourselves to a sunrise horseback ride on stunning Cape Farewell.  This expedition echoed a ride Carolyn did with her parents 15 years earlier and we marvelled at the fact that the cicadas who serenaded us along the way were likely the offspring of those she had heard so many years before.  For his part, Ben clung tightly to his trusty steed, Ivanhoe, and slowly picked up enough confidence to revel in a thundering beach gallop past the towering stone sea stacks.

We also enjoyed a quiet hike in Abel Tasman National Park, which paid off on a deserted strip of sand lapped by the waves.  We were definitely on vacation again!

Soon our path turned south to follow the island´s rugged west coast, where the mountains march into the sea.  The highlights here were the enormous Franz Joseph and Fox glaciers, beneficiaries of the bountiful precipitation dumped as moist ocean air that slams into the peaks of the Southern Alps.  We then turned inland, weaving through the towering mountains and sprawling lakes that line the passage to the charming town of Wanaka.  Here the country`s siren song reached a crescendo and we started flirting with the idea of living in New Zealand someday.  As of this writing, the Kiwi immigration folks do not agree with that sentiment, but we are sure they will relent when they see how nice we are.

Next stop: Queenstown - adventure sports capital of the planet!