Adventure Capital of the World

The drive up to The Remarkables was pretty harrowing, with little to no shoulder and VERY long drops.

Queenstown is known as the adventure capital of the world. "Bungy" (Americans spell it Bungee) jumping was first commercialized here, and pretty much every other crazy and exciting thing you can do is available, including skydiving, heli-skiing, hang gliding, paragliding, biking down mountain tracks, among many others.

We stayed in a tiny cabin at a "Top 10 Holiday Park" with shared kitchen and bath facilities. This was an interesting experience in and of itself, including my chagrin to be microwaving my leftover beef stew in plastic bowls while the Frenchmen beside me sautéed challots in white wine. Our previous Top 10 in Wanaka also had co-ed toilets and showers- surprisingly not awkward after the astonishment of opening the door to a strange man in a towel quickly wore off.

The "Top 10" parks have something for everyone: from suites with their own kitchen, to spots to simply park your van. A popular company for rentals is Jucy, with lime green paint jobs and offensive marketing.

Due to Fran's dissected carotid artery last year, we decided as a family that her dream of bungee-jumping in Queenstown would have to wait until Jeremy grew up.

If she just waits another couple decades, she can do it for free: it's an unpublicized but true fact for the over 75-set! The folks at the Karawau Bridge jump told us that they also used to let you do it free if you were naked but, well, you can imagine what happened.

Instead, we got our thrills from ziplining and jet boat rides. The former started with a gondola ride and involved six lines and lots of conservation and sustainability messages along the way.

Our courage increased with each successive line and even I flipped upside-down by the final, 300m ride. 

The Skippers Canyon jet boat ride was even more of a heart-stopper, bringing us within centimeters of the rock canyon walls at alarming speeds. We found out afterwards that our driver had made over 20,000 trips on this river; he was 5th generation living in that canyon and began to drive a motor boat at the age of 12.

The first of his family was a baker for the gold prospectors before he became a prospector himself. Jeremy especially loved it and said that he felt like he could "do anything" now that he had survived it. The high-dive at the pool was nothing after this!

The final day we took an only slightly less exciting ride on the Dart River Jet. 

This involved a long but super-scenic bus ride along the lake shore to Glenorchy, followed by the boat ride and then a hike in red beech forest.

We saw several Lord of the Rings filming sites, including the valley where Isengard was CGIed in.

In the middle of all this, we visited the Kiwi Birdlife Park with the "100% guaranteed best kiwi viewing in New Zealand" (and the world, I'm sure). These football sized birds have only vestigial wings and play the ecological role mammals do elsewhere, rooting around the forest floor for insects with their long beaks. The ones we saw were used for breeding and reintroduction programs and could not be photographed. The park also had kea, known for destroying cars and other mischief. Unlike in the US, we could actually interact with this intelligent bird without direct supervision- even though they are powerful enough to bite off a finger!

Now Jeremy gets his much-requested rest of a week in Dunedin while we wait for my mother (and friends David and Gregg from Denver) to arrive in time for Passover.

Magical Moeraki

So far, I have been showing you photos taken by phone- mostly my outdated one and occasionally Fran’s newer one. But for the truly incredible sights, you deserve the good camera. But I don’t just use the word “magical” in the title of this post to reflect the special beauty of these sites, but I use it because the geologic processes that created their features is awe-inspiring.

A Picassoesque pano of Aeromoana

The first is Aeromoana. It was so beautiful that Jeremy ran barefoot across painful rocks to yell out to me to make sure to take a panoramic photo (he had refused to put his shoes on in the car and had let us go on without him). 

A few Kiwis told us that this was their favorite beach so we drove an hour out to the tip of the peninsula to see it. Yes, the walk up the jetty for the iconic view of the lighthouse and our closest encounters yet with fur seals were pretty great... 

...but the thing that knocked our socks of were the shells. 

No one prepared us for the endless glittering jewels in the sand. Also, the sand in New Zealand has been the softest, finest sand I have ever felt. All three of us went nuts collecting the little opalescent spirals, one more lovely than the next. Later Jeremy said that walking on this beach was his favorite part of a pretty amazing weekend.

From there, we drove out to Shag Point, to an obscure place indicated by our favorite guidebook (NZ Frenzy: “look for the red mailbox…”) to see “mermaid pools.” 

Talk about magic- an ancient bit of bone rolled around on the ocean floor somehow becoming encapsulated in a sphere of rock, called septarian concretions, which weathering later cracked open. A huge plesiosaurus skeleton was found this way here, now exhibited in the Otago Museum.

Even most locals don’t know about this particular spot and it was nearly empty. The massive rubbery kelp undulating in the surf added to an otherworldly feeling and I could imagine that the seals we encountered were actually mer-people lounging on the rocks.

We completed this homeschool geology lesson by visiting the much more publicized Moeraki boulders: more of the same, but fewer, and more perfect spheres. Pretty cool, but still not as magical as Shag Point.

A trip to Moeraki isn’t complete, according to locals, without a meal at Fleur’s, a boat-to-table seafood restaurant. Lacking a reservation (they were completely booked on a Tuesday night), we were told that we could sit on the patio if we were willing to brave the sea breeze. 

These were the best seats in the house! We dined on the freshest, tastiest, and most beautifully presented fish and scallops we’ve ever had with a 180-degree view of the harbor.

--> This trip taught us to expect the unexpected and wondrous.

The Catlins and Waterfalls

Last week was an overnight in the southernmost part of the country, an area called The Catlins. By this point, we had made the guidebook “NZ Frenzy” (pronounced En-Zed Frenzy, by the way) our bible and simply went where the author told us to go. This meant that we started with Nugget Point.

The classic lighthouse shot at Nugget Point

“Nuggets” are the word for the large rocks that jut out of the ocean along the cliff-faced shores, and true to the name, Nugget Point is full of them. This is the classic lighthouse photo that has graced many calendars, and Jeremy enjoyed taking many photos there… but not of the lighthouse.

(one of) Jeremy's nugget shots

Many of Jeremy's photos feature either water or sky

Jeremy has developed a love of taking pictures, usually with the telescoping lens all the way extended. His subject matter is almost exclusively rocks and plants, particularly from unusual angles.

And another nugget shot

On the way, we stopped at the eclectic Lost Gypsy Gallery, where found items on the beach and elsewhere become quirky and sometimes disturbing new gizmos. Hundreds of these were crammed into a repurposed bus.

The converted bus

A sample of the contents of the bus

After that, we continued on to the city of Bluff and an odd little museum while it rained outside. The museum featured found-object art of other kinds, including a constellation of various silver spoons hung from fishing line in front of a painted fence and 19^th century style dresses made from plastic oyster sacks. 

When the gay curator of the museum, Xavier, learned we were “family,” he gifted us a magnet and a brick of his favorite travel brochures (which he secured tightly with rubber bands, a paper bag and tape, making us promise we wouldn’t read them until we were back in Dunedin).

Then the tour book told us to go to the ship graveyard, where we investigated the decaying hulls of fishing vessels that had been retired, some more than a century ago. I experimented with a new filter on the camera while Jeremy looked for shells and Fran made sure we didn’t miss anything.

The next morning featured a three-hour “tramp” through forest and mud up and down a hilly “track” to an incredible reward. It was tough, especially on Jeremy who admitted that the feel, look, and smell of the mud made him anxious. But we made it and were treated to not one but two majestic waterfalls, passing only a couple people the entire hike.

From there, we made our way to Curio Bay hoping to see the petrified forest and Hector’s dolphins it is famous for. We saw the former, which was cool but not especially dramatic, however the dolphins had already left for the day. We braved the high winds only for a few minutes at a time to enjoy yet more stunning shoreline views. 

A petrified tree stump

A pano of Curio Bay

Finally, we dutifully followed the guidebook’s recommendation to see Cathedral Caves- one of the world’s largest sea caves. Jeremy’s legs and my feet were aching by the time we tramped down the long winding path to the beach from the parking lot, but we soldiered on, then also walking the football field length of beach to the caves.

Two openings join in the back, so you can walk in one and out the other. Our book said we should wade through the surf to get to “even better” caves beyond, but we took one look at the waves crashing on the rocks and decided we had had enough for the day.

Jeremy on the expansive beach by Cathedral Caves

Tired but happy, we drove home as the sun set. Jeremy said, “That was a great adventure. I think I’ll be good to just hang out at the house for the next week.” 

Fran and I looked at each other and gulped. "Sorry Honey, but we leave for Fiordland and Queenstown day after tomorrow!" 

Puzzling over differences

As an American now temporarily living in New Zealand, I have been marveling over the adjustments we have made, and the experience of culture shock generally.

Jeremy fears for his life in a trompe l'oeil toilet at Puzzling World (in Wanaka) 

Fran defies gravity in the "tilted house" in Puzzling World

So much is strange here and yet familiar at the same time. The heavy metal window frames and flimsy plastic toilet seats are the same type I used in Kenya when I lived there. Other sort-of-familiar things from that period of my life are  "tea and biscuits" (the botany department has tea together at 10:30 and take turns bringing cookies), driving on the left side of the road, and other evidence of having been a British colony.  

Jeremy rides a bike as a part of an anatomy display at the Otago Museum Tūhura exhibit

And yet, being here is not like being in Kenya at all, where I often didn't understand the language and was a racial minority-- a valuable, if uncomfortable, experience.  In contrast, at first glance, we blend in perfectly in New Zealand.

Fran in a Roman toilet (also trompe l'oeil) at Puzzling World

And yet, all is not as it appears. For example, although we speak the same language, there are enough differences to make for some misunderstandings. My favorite so far was when an 8-year-old boy we were visiting kept referring to his "titties," as in "I love my titties. I like to throw my titties around." Finally, he held up his stuffed bear and announced, "This is my favorite titty." Ah! Teddies!

Jeremy tipping over the clocktower at Puzzling World... or did he?

And then there's simply the adjustment to a new place, new routines, new people, etc. that can happen with any move. I have been touched and so grateful for how welcoming people have been, even knowing that we are only here for a few months. Last night we were invited to a dinner party at a colleague's place, we have another tomorrow with "Rainbow families", and we had one of our own last week (after an impromptu lunch with another family from Jeremy's archery club).

Dinner party at our place with new friends

I had hoped that living in a new culture would help illuminate our own, and I have not been disappointed. One such "ah ha" moment occurred when one of our kiwi friends pointed out that the reason why there can be a trampoline (see previous post) or a zip line (called "flying fox" here) in a public park in New Zealand is because of government-provided health care.

Jeremy plays with other homeschool kids on a zip line at the park

That is, if someone gets hurt, Kiwis don't need to worry about how they can afford treatment. This, I realized, is at the heart of our so-called-litigious culture, not because we are greedy or obsessed with finding fault. "Who is going to pay for this?" is a significant concern in the US; medical costs are the number one cause of bankruptcies, and this has cascading impacts through our culture. I am learning to see things in a new way here.

Jeremy with a 3-D version of the Rubin vase optical illusion at Puzzling World

Other revelations are more personal. In a strange symmetry, Fran has discovered that she is enjoying this period of working less, while I am finding I want to work more.

Fran and Jeremy above the huge maze at Puzzling World

So, I am finding a balance of making time for myself in my office while also taking advantage of being in this incredible place. The stress is mostly an illusion:

Jeremy in another crazy bathroom at Puzzling World

After our Cadbury Chocolate World tour yesterday

We continue to say our gratitude prayers, with exciting things to add each night. We are so very, very fortunate to be able to have this (albeit sometimes puzzling) experience.

Fran (on right) is dwarfed by giant Jeremy (on left) in the optical illusion room at Puzzling World

Wild New Zealand

What follows is a bit of natural history, with photos and short movies we took of wildlife we have seen here. You can also click on the embedded links for more information.

Lake Wanaka pano shot

New Zealand (Aotearoa, in Māori) became a continent 60-85 million years ago, before mammals evolved. This means all mice, rats, dogs, cats, sheep, antelope, etc. were introduced intentionally or unintentionally by humans when ancestors of the Māori arrived approximately 1000 years ago, and then Europeans in the early 1800's. 

Jeremy enjoying some tug-of-war with the island's most popular dog breed

Together, these new residents (people and the animals they brought) decimated approximately 45% of the native fauna, including the giant moa- a bird that dwarfed the ostrich, and its predator the Haast's eagle, which was large enough to carry off a small child according Māori oral history. 

 

Jeremy and friends with model of moa and egg

Before people arrived, New Zealand’s vertebrates (animals with spines, unlike insects or snails or other animals with exoskeletons) were exclusively those that could fly or swim across the ocean. Many of these pioneers had descendants that would be unique in the world - either retaining characteristics that were lost elsewhere, or by developing new traits, causing them to become new species. 

For example, the parrots in New Zealand are either green (keas) or brown (kakas), in stark contrast with their brightly colored new world relatives. Without mammal predators (who can’t see color), raptors such as the giant eagle (who can) exert the greatest selective pressure. It is way too dangerous to be bright red or blue!

Look at the wingspan on this big boy!

One of the most surprising animals we have seen so far is the royal albatross (click here for a live feed of the population we visited). This is one of the rare giant birds to survive here, albeit just barely. We saw them at a conservation area in Dunedin- they have an astonishing wingspan of up to 3.3m (10.8ft) and to see them paragliding on the sea breeze is to be transported to a prehistoric era.

Seeing the albatross was a part of a tour that also included another rare species, the yellow-eyed penguin. Our first week we glimpsed one in what is a more typical fashion: while we huddled on the beach against the rain and wind, watching a single black speck tumbling out of the waves and waddling slowly up the adjacent hill. So imagine our amazement to see eleven at once, and from as close as two meters away!

On an adjacent beach to the penguins was a species with a better conservation story: fur seals. As the name suggests, these adorable and playful animals were once frequently hunted for their pelts. 

Fortunately, they are now protected and populations are doing well. Of course, the seal pups, as they are aptly called, have enough challenges with other sea mammals hunting them; we even saw some sea lions hanging around hoping for a seal dinner.

I admit, it is a strange experience taking a hike through the forest and not seeing any squirrels or chipmunks- and hardly any birds since most are drab colored and hide so well. It all adds to the unique Middle-Earth experience.