Lake Roititi, Nelson Lakes, NZ South Island - Dec 2006
OK, you've probably heard and seen all you need (possibly more) with regards my tramping exploits in NZ. But before we drop the subject, here's a collection of increasingly anarchic vid clips taken after completing the hike. We were a bit giddy with relief and fatigue...yeah right! We were giddy with cocktails!
All going quite well so far...
...oh dear, slight set back but no problem...
You know things are getting silly when you make a mock Discovery Channel documentary.
Hmmm...
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Ascent of Mt Angelus
Mount Angelus, Nelson Lakes, South Island NZ - Dec 2006
Just to keep this thing ticking over here are some snaps of our successful ascent of Mount Angelus (east ridge) - 2300m or near enough. Not too much to comment on really other than it felt very high and was very windy. I blame the sausage-less sausage casserole we had the night before for the wind.
Just to keep this thing ticking over here are some snaps of our successful ascent of Mount Angelus (east ridge) - 2300m or near enough. Not too much to comment on really other than it felt very high and was very windy. I blame the sausage-less sausage casserole we had the night before for the wind.
Friday, January 19, 2007
I like figs
Roberts Ridge, Nelson Lakes, NZ South Island - Dec 2006
After the lung busting climb up to the Bushline Hut and a night of giving Steve a merciless lesson in how to play Gin Rummy (as usual), we awoke to our second glorious day of sunshine. What's going on? Is this really NZ? Apparently the sun does shine...occasionally. We headed off up the Roberts Ridge at a suitably lazy hour (as usual). Our goal for the day - the Angelus Hut.
Start of the hike through Hansel & Gretel country. I had to prevent Steve from leaving a trail of breadcrumbs. Silly boy.
Atop the ridge with St Arnaud and Lake Roititi in the background. I think I was suggesting the camera operator step back so he could get our feet in the shot. He didn't listen. Then again, when do stone cairns ever listen?
The barren and lunar landscape of the Roberts Ridge. Pretty desolate but starkly beautiful.
Wondering why my pack was so heavy I stopped to investigate and to my surprise out popped a semi naked man carrying a billy can. How odd.
The route that lay before us. Somewhere in the cluster of snow dusted peaks in the distance is Mount Angelus. This was shortly before we were caught up and overtaken by a group of 12 year old cub scouts. I think their mini stature suited the terrain.
We abandoned the bird food and got stuck into our 'Just Add Water' meal. Actually, not half bad. We didn't have any sausages to go with the tomato & onion sauce alas. Not even a fine chorizo sausage from Galicia...nor indeed a bottle of 1996 Rioja to wash it down. Ah well.
After the lung busting climb up to the Bushline Hut and a night of giving Steve a merciless lesson in how to play Gin Rummy (as usual), we awoke to our second glorious day of sunshine. What's going on? Is this really NZ? Apparently the sun does shine...occasionally. We headed off up the Roberts Ridge at a suitably lazy hour (as usual). Our goal for the day - the Angelus Hut.
Start of the hike through Hansel & Gretel country. I had to prevent Steve from leaving a trail of breadcrumbs. Silly boy.
Atop the ridge with St Arnaud and Lake Roititi in the background. I think I was suggesting the camera operator step back so he could get our feet in the shot. He didn't listen. Then again, when do stone cairns ever listen?
The barren and lunar landscape of the Roberts Ridge. Pretty desolate but starkly beautiful.
Wondering why my pack was so heavy I stopped to investigate and to my surprise out popped a semi naked man carrying a billy can. How odd.
The route that lay before us. Somewhere in the cluster of snow dusted peaks in the distance is Mount Angelus. This was shortly before we were caught up and overtaken by a group of 12 year old cub scouts. I think their mini stature suited the terrain.
Some corrie lakes. Strangely Blue had been through again. Not much sign of his British cousin, Strangely Brown although plenty of evidence of his brother, Baron von Landscape.
Steve had been in charge of provisions and learning from our experience of the Routeburn Track where we were kitted out like some nineteenth century nobleman's expedition, we had veered to the other extreme. I mean I like figs, dried fruit and nuts but five days of bird food can be a bit tiresome on the constitution. Where's the potted ham, Madeira wine and plum duff?
My attempt at an arty B&W shot. Steve's attempt to release some trapped wind.
More evidence of Baron von Landscape.
To fit in with the alien landscape even the plants looked like Mars lifeforms on a team-building exercise in this desolate spot.
As we ascended pockets of snow started to scatter the path. Terrific.
A little vid clip of us bagging a subsidiary peak, Mt Julius, along the way.
The end of the day and we sight the Angelus Hut nestling on a promontory (if a hut can nestle).
We abandoned the bird food and got stuck into our 'Just Add Water' meal. Actually, not half bad. We didn't have any sausages to go with the tomato & onion sauce alas. Not even a fine chorizo sausage from Galicia...nor indeed a bottle of 1996 Rioja to wash it down. Ah well.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Hi Nelson, been missing ya!
Kaikoura-Nelson, & Nelson Lakes NZ - 8-10 Dec, 2006
[Well, yes, sorry about the delay on updates again. After all my good intentions it seems I've slipped back to a month and a half behind schedule...the standard state of affairs it would seem for the BligBlagBlog. One day...maybe one day I'll get this thing up to date]
Any road up, the tramping wasn't over for NZ quite yet, oh no. Met up with Steve again in Nelson and there we plotted a high alpine adventure in the Nelson Lakes area: Roberts Ridge and (weather permitting) bagging Mt Angelus (2300m)...oooh.
An example of the 'clandestine' methods we used in planning our trip - taking pics of expensive glossy hiking books in the DoC Office bookshop to save having to buy them. Thank goodness I had been obsessed with The Big Book of Secrets as a child.
Naturally our route was on the junction of four different maps so we camped out in the DoC office carpetting the floor with cartography and generally getting on the tits of one particular member of staff, Eyebrow (named for obvious reasons). She was a bit of a know-it-all Canadian (hmmm) who seemed to think we were not taking the Roberts Ridge seriously enough.
Quote from Eyebrow: 'It's exposed up there and really windy. I was on the ridge the other week with a friend of mine who's 6ft 4in and he got blown.' Well, really, I think it might have been Eyebrow that wasn't taking the hiking that seriously.
Transport certainly wasn't as easy to fix as it had been in Queenstown. Certainly an opportunity for Teapot to move north and clean up with his logistics skills.
[By the way I'm doing this on a Mac and for some reason it's a lot harder (for me) - Blogger & Macs don't seem to shake hands very well hence I'm doing it in the bare html code with which I am very rusty so no additional colours, links, italics etc. Sorry. This has taken me hours and I have a flight to catch so I shall leave the snaps to speak for themselves.]
Any road up, the tramping wasn't over for NZ quite yet, oh no. Met up with Steve again in Nelson and there we plotted a high alpine adventure in the Nelson Lakes area: Roberts Ridge and (weather permitting) bagging Mt Angelus (2300m)...oooh.
An example of the 'clandestine' methods we used in planning our trip - taking pics of expensive glossy hiking books in the DoC Office bookshop to save having to buy them. Thank goodness I had been obsessed with The Big Book of Secrets as a child.
Naturally our route was on the junction of four different maps so we camped out in the DoC office carpetting the floor with cartography and generally getting on the tits of one particular member of staff, Eyebrow (named for obvious reasons). She was a bit of a know-it-all Canadian (hmmm) who seemed to think we were not taking the Roberts Ridge seriously enough.
Quote from Eyebrow: 'It's exposed up there and really windy. I was on the ridge the other week with a friend of mine who's 6ft 4in and he got blown.' Well, really, I think it might have been Eyebrow that wasn't taking the hiking that seriously.
Transport certainly wasn't as easy to fix as it had been in Queenstown. Certainly an opportunity for Teapot to move north and clean up with his logistics skills.
[By the way I'm doing this on a Mac and for some reason it's a lot harder (for me) - Blogger & Macs don't seem to shake hands very well hence I'm doing it in the bare html code with which I am very rusty so no additional colours, links, italics etc. Sorry. This has taken me hours and I have a flight to catch so I shall leave the snaps to speak for themselves.]
Sunday, January 14, 2007
What matter Whales?
Kaikoura, east coast NZ - 6-7 Dec, 2006
In Christchurch I also met up with a guy I had first met briefly back in Auckland, Michael Palmer. It proved to be a little short of the wisest rendez vous ever. M.P.'s a 42 year old, from Oregon, US, whose reason for being in NZ seemed to change with the drinks order: buying a yacht to sail back to the US, getting work with a ballooning outfit, buying a high end motorbike and scooting about NZ with his US girlfriend. When I met him he was 'working' on a business plan for a Maori artist and had bought some of his artwork to exhibit back in the States. Wha'...ever. Well, and I'm ashamed to admit it, despite this guy's tall stories of wealth, I lent him NZ$300 (c.100GBP) as he seemed to be living out of rubbish bins. I know, I know, I don't need a lecture and I should know better given my track record and age...but hey, maybe I've got a big heart and want to see the best in everyone...or maybe I'm just stupid...probably just stupid.
[As an aside, it turns out that M.P. had initially been blowing cash on his ex-work's Amex Card as they had neglected to cancel it when he was sacked. He had dropped somewhere in the region of NZ$20,000 on the card...according to M.P. Nice one and let me check...yup...highly illegal. They had got wise to it eventually and cut him off hence his transition from riches to rags. Funny that. I didn't know this before I lent him the cash.]
M.P. crops up later in my adventures but that's for another time.
Some people have a long list of messages - things to do in NZ - bungee jumping, jet boating, spotting a kiwi bird (I would recommend the Matterhorn Bar, Wellington), sheering a sheep etc. For me, it was pretty short - see what happens (as always) and go whale watching. Kaikoura on NZ's east coast is the place for whale watching and it was the perfect time of the year.
For the experience I caught the early morning TransScenic train from Christchurch to Kaikoura (along with M.P.). It was pretty scenic I have to say. On arriving in Kaikoura I discovered that my pre-booked whale watching excursion had been cancelled due to 'bad weather'. BAD WEATHER? This was the best weather I had experienced in NZ so far, clear skies and a mill pond Pacific. I think the problem was, they didn't know where the whales were. [Is there some strange parallel here with my quest to find a second hand copy of Moby Dick?...maybe so.] Seems that my adventures in NZ were being curtailed by the weather once again (bad or bogus). In a strange twist of fate we actually saw whales off the beach...a long way off admittedly but definitely whales.
We went fishing off the beach instead (equally fruitless), not for whales though. We then had a beach bonfire with some of our fellow hostel dwellers.
View from the TransScenic train.
Fishing off the beach in Kaikoura. Mainly just getting wet and not catching anything. Funny that. Maybe that was M.P.'s influence...maybe so.
A trip into Kaikoura 'town' on some Lady Shopper bikes borrowed from the hostel (Sunrise Lodge), which I have to say was first class (unlike the bikes...but hey, I'm not complaining).
Start of the beach bonfire. The lass in green & white at the back of the photo is called Jenny and she's from South Korea (I don't think that was her actual Korean name). During conversation it turns out that she has a 'gift': she could identify peoples' ailments through having a replica (phantom) sensation in her body to that which is troubling her 'subject'. I was most sceptical but she informed me straight away that I had a pain in my right shin. I did. It was from the six days' hiking in Fiordland and had been niggling me since we finished. Weird. She could also taste peoples' personalities...nice people gave her a sweet taste in her mouth, nasty people were more salty (OK, quit sniggering at the back!). Pity she didn't tell me that she got the taste of an eleven-day-old fish milkshake from M.P. Jenny also threw pebbles into my wine glass. I thought it was another strange psychic experiment thingy. Nope, she was just chucking pebbles into my wine glass for a laugh. Tcchhh.
Below are more views of the beach, sunset, bonfire and moonlight in Kaikoura. Nuff said.
In Christchurch I also met up with a guy I had first met briefly back in Auckland, Michael Palmer. It proved to be a little short of the wisest rendez vous ever. M.P.'s a 42 year old, from Oregon, US, whose reason for being in NZ seemed to change with the drinks order: buying a yacht to sail back to the US, getting work with a ballooning outfit, buying a high end motorbike and scooting about NZ with his US girlfriend. When I met him he was 'working' on a business plan for a Maori artist and had bought some of his artwork to exhibit back in the States. Wha'...ever. Well, and I'm ashamed to admit it, despite this guy's tall stories of wealth, I lent him NZ$300 (c.100GBP) as he seemed to be living out of rubbish bins. I know, I know, I don't need a lecture and I should know better given my track record and age...but hey, maybe I've got a big heart and want to see the best in everyone...or maybe I'm just stupid...probably just stupid.
[As an aside, it turns out that M.P. had initially been blowing cash on his ex-work's Amex Card as they had neglected to cancel it when he was sacked. He had dropped somewhere in the region of NZ$20,000 on the card...according to M.P. Nice one and let me check...yup...highly illegal. They had got wise to it eventually and cut him off hence his transition from riches to rags. Funny that. I didn't know this before I lent him the cash.]
M.P. crops up later in my adventures but that's for another time.
Some people have a long list of messages - things to do in NZ - bungee jumping, jet boating, spotting a kiwi bird (I would recommend the Matterhorn Bar, Wellington), sheering a sheep etc. For me, it was pretty short - see what happens (as always) and go whale watching. Kaikoura on NZ's east coast is the place for whale watching and it was the perfect time of the year.
For the experience I caught the early morning TransScenic train from Christchurch to Kaikoura (along with M.P.). It was pretty scenic I have to say. On arriving in Kaikoura I discovered that my pre-booked whale watching excursion had been cancelled due to 'bad weather'. BAD WEATHER? This was the best weather I had experienced in NZ so far, clear skies and a mill pond Pacific. I think the problem was, they didn't know where the whales were. [Is there some strange parallel here with my quest to find a second hand copy of Moby Dick?...maybe so.] Seems that my adventures in NZ were being curtailed by the weather once again (bad or bogus). In a strange twist of fate we actually saw whales off the beach...a long way off admittedly but definitely whales.
We went fishing off the beach instead (equally fruitless), not for whales though. We then had a beach bonfire with some of our fellow hostel dwellers.
View from the TransScenic train. Fishing off the beach in Kaikoura. Mainly just getting wet and not catching anything. Funny that. Maybe that was M.P.'s influence...maybe so. A trip into Kaikoura 'town' on some Lady Shopper bikes borrowed from the hostel (Sunrise Lodge), which I have to say was first class (unlike the bikes...but hey, I'm not complaining). Start of the beach bonfire. The lass in green & white at the back of the photo is called Jenny and she's from South Korea (I don't think that was her actual Korean name). During conversation it turns out that she has a 'gift': she could identify peoples' ailments through having a replica (phantom) sensation in her body to that which is troubling her 'subject'. I was most sceptical but she informed me straight away that I had a pain in my right shin. I did. It was from the six days' hiking in Fiordland and had been niggling me since we finished. Weird. She could also taste peoples' personalities...nice people gave her a sweet taste in her mouth, nasty people were more salty (OK, quit sniggering at the back!). Pity she didn't tell me that she got the taste of an eleven-day-old fish milkshake from M.P. Jenny also threw pebbles into my wine glass. I thought it was another strange psychic experiment thingy. Nope, she was just chucking pebbles into my wine glass for a laugh. Tcchhh.Below are more views of the beach, sunset, bonfire and moonlight in Kaikoura. Nuff said.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Christchurch - saw churches, didn't see Christ
Queenstown to Christchurch, NZ - 4-6 Dec, 2006
I liked Queenstown, a lot. It has an alpine town feel, but it only comes half way up the alpine town price scale. Sort of yester-year's Val d'Isere but with today's crowd. The kids (and others) all had their cash to spend as QT is the heart of finding your NZ (if bungy jumping, jet boating, sky diving zorbing or any other kind of -ing is involved). Anyth-ing seemed to go. I had a hatful of ideas on starting up business(es) but now isn't the time. (Jeez, I sound like my own bogus entry on Friends Reunited. In fact when exactly would be the time? You're talking sh*te Pants! Yeah I know.) Anyway, I left Queenstown heading for Christchurch after doing some Xmas shopping and temporarily losing my credit card...funnily enough I left it behind a bar the previous night (see previous post).
I liked Queenstown, a lot. It has an alpine town feel, but it only comes half way up the alpine town price scale. Sort of yester-year's Val d'Isere but with today's crowd. The kids (and others) all had their cash to spend as QT is the heart of finding your NZ (if bungy jumping, jet boating, sky diving zorbing or any other kind of -ing is involved). Anyth-ing seemed to go. I had a hatful of ideas on starting up business(es) but now isn't the time. (Jeez, I sound like my own bogus entry on Friends Reunited. In fact when exactly would be the time? You're talking sh*te Pants! Yeah I know.) Anyway, I left Queenstown heading for Christchurch after doing some Xmas shopping and temporarily losing my credit card...funnily enough I left it behind a bar the previous night (see previous post).
Mount Cook across Lake Pukaki. Spectacular day...to be on a bus. Hmmm. And the water really is that milky blue colour. It's to do with rock particles from the glaciers in suspension in the lake water...hello...who invited the geography teacher back? Haven't you got marking to do?
More of the same. Lake...mountain...la la la. NEXT!
Other than the churches and to get a glimpse of Christ (he must have been in civvies as I didn't spot him) the main reason to visit Christchurch was to meet up with Susie Marsh, a friend of Iwan's who I'd been threatening to sponge off all the way round NZ. We met for coffee and on her suggestion of a bike ride, I thought 'Why not?' Having scoped out the Christchurch terrain it seemed pretty flat so a potter on a bike might be a laugh. HA! indeed! The laugh was on me. She lives in the Christchurch port of Lyttelton, an altogether different spot and an altogether hillier spot. We were in full Lycra before I could say 'Does my bum/tum/ear lobe look big in this?' and off up the summit road (I think the name says it all). She crushed my spuds cycling in eye-watering scenery and wind for a couple of hours. Great fun though and the bottle of Corona (beer as opposed to the lemonade of our youth) at the end of the ride somehow tasted that much more Divine. Apt for Christchurch.
We had dinner out in Lyttelton with some of Susie's friends (one of whom was an English guy called Ants...a different Ants...what a coincidence). Great evening of banter and despite nearly all the people round the table being doctors, I managed to hang in there with the conversation (I think...I've forgotten what 'normal' conversation is). Really nice to share an evening off the traveller's route with people my age that shared a similar sense of humour (I think).
I had a room of my own at Susie's spectacular (and it is Susie!) house over looking Lyttelton Harbour. So so so nice to get a lie in: no 6:45am dorm room bag rustlers, no cocophany of alarms, no 10am check out. Susie had gone to work when I surfaced from my Zzzz and after a coffee I took a hike up into the hills (the ones that I had been tortured by the previous day on the bike). Thence back to Christchurch and onwards with my travels.
A taste of home in Christchurch. They say it's the most English of NZ cities. Maybe so. It doesn't look a huge amount like Blighty but there's a river in town you can punt on (I do that every weekend back home...right?) and they've done a fair job of Anglicising the place up with the street names. Aaah, bonnie Southwark.
Biggles Inc hits Queenstown
Queenstown, NZ - 29 Nov - 2 Dec, 2006
Well, we're back in Queenstown and I guess after six days of 'hard labour' (and not showering) it was time to scrub up and get down.
Imagine my surprise when I discover that Biggles, my friend from Mitcham, who apparently not content with DJing in NZ, has started his own brewery there too. When will this man's quest for global domination cease?
There it is the Biggles Brew.
Dom accosts a friend from Auckland, Karen. (Nice pit patches, Dom!)
Steve looks like he has his hands full with a brace of Radlers, a shot vessel and Lizzie P (another friend from Auckland).
I'll stick to the Teapot. Twice the price, half the volume of a normal cocktail. I guess that's marketing for ya! [Nice stains on the cords, sir, what would your geography students think?]
Well, we're back in Queenstown and I guess after six days of 'hard labour' (and not showering) it was time to scrub up and get down.
Imagine my surprise when I discover that Biggles, my friend from Mitcham, who apparently not content with DJing in NZ, has started his own brewery there too. When will this man's quest for global domination cease?
There it is the Biggles Brew.
Dom accosts a friend from Auckland, Karen. (Nice pit patches, Dom!)Steve looks like he has his hands full with a brace of Radlers, a shot vessel and Lizzie P (another friend from Auckland). I'll stick to the Teapot. Twice the price, half the volume of a normal cocktail. I guess that's marketing for ya! [Nice stains on the cords, sir, what would your geography students think?]
It was a BIG NIGHT.
Steve & I pull Dom up (in his sleep) after our Big Night Out for being a 'bad boy' and nearly getting us chucked out of the hostel. Not only the infringement as scribed, but he put chips in my hair whilst I slept. OUT OF ORDER!
Improbable
I guess Dom was pretty bushed. [Sorry about the landscape version when it shoud be portrait but I haven't figured that out yet...still learning.]
End of an expedition
Steele Creek, Greenstone Track and back to Queenstown, NZ - 28-29 Nov, 2006
From the Steele Creek Bivvy it was all down hill to our exit from our expedition. And it was as well. Just two days of 'gentle' strolling through magnificent open wilderness and the ubiquitous rain.
Tussocky grass in the Greenstone Valley.
Greenstone Valley. What more can I say? It's big and it's wide.
Crossing a ravine to the Greenstone Hut and a fairly uneventful night stop.
Pick up at the end of the Greenstone Track by water taxi. A sort of water going motorbike (yet not a jet ski...thank heavens...hate those things).
Homeward bound. Route complete and ready for a decent meal (not that we ate badly...I was cooking after all, well, apart from Sock Soup) and a shower.
From the Steele Creek Bivvy it was all down hill to our exit from our expedition. And it was as well. Just two days of 'gentle' strolling through magnificent open wilderness and the ubiquitous rain.
Tussocky grass in the Greenstone Valley.
Greenstone Valley. What more can I say? It's big and it's wide.
Crossing a ravine to the Greenstone Hut and a fairly uneventful night stop.
Pick up at the end of the Greenstone Track by water taxi. A sort of water going motorbike (yet not a jet ski...thank heavens...hate those things).
Homeward bound. Route complete and ready for a decent meal (not that we ate badly...I was cooking after all, well, apart from Sock Soup) and a shower.
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