After the strange night of inexplicable goings-on at Howden we had an a red-eye start to hike to the end of the Routeburn Track, get to the nearest road and meet transport at 8am. This would take us to Milford Sound where we were going to go kayaking (come on, it's canoeing) for the day.
It was up at 5:50am and off we set into the...yup...pishing rain for a change. It dampened us in body only, our spirits were soaring and to take our minds off the lung-busting climb out of the valley we played the 'Countries Game', first played (by me) on a chair lift with Iwan, Rach & Jo in Morzine earlier in the year. The idea is to name countries that all begin with the same letter of the alphabet starting with 'A'. You take it in turns until nobody can come up with any more 'A' countries, the winner being the last person to name a country. You then move onto the next letter in the alphabet. (That's 'B' for those that were wondering.) Heck, it sounds pretty nerdy and childish but it can take your mind off the weight on your back, grumbling in your legs and the fact your gasping for breath. You could make it less nerdy by turning it into a drinking game but that wasn't really on the cards at 6am whilst hard hiking. It was also better than the last game we came up with called 'A Brief History of the World'. Also I was pretty good at it. I kept my degree in geography quiet. That said, Jo Bole also did a geography degree and thought Newcastle was in Scotland and as for Rik Ledger's trip to Oman when he nearly ended up in Amman, Jordan...well I guess it doesn't really count for anything.
Routeburn Track ticked off. Us at The Divide waiting for transport to head to Milford Sound.
Some ominous looking mountain on the way to Milford Sound.
The weather had kindly cleared up by 10am and, after getting into our boating wear in some derelict mizzen hut with broken glass for carpet, it was off in the kayaks/canoes (let's just call them boats)...boats onto Milford Sound. I was captaining HMS Sprattles with Steve, who had been bleating on and on about kayaking back in Minnesota, taking a free ride in the back. I swear he didn't do any paddling.
Apparently the mountain in the middle of the above snap was meant to look like a lion. It's amazing what hallucinogenic drugs people take to get by when they live in extremely remote places.
Steve & I spotted some Fiordland crested penguins whilst we were out paddling (well, I was paddling and Steve was having a cushy ride in the back). There were fewer of these than normal at this time of year as a rogue leopard seal had made a home in the sound and had been scoffing the penguin population willy-nilly. When I learnt it was over 9ft long it suddenly made me feel less like capsizing...not that I had a great desire to capsize before. We didn't see it. Did find a cap floating in the water though, so there's something.
After battling into the wind before lunch, we rafted up, hoisted a sail and relaxed (although Steve had been relaxing all morning obviously), the wind carrying us back down the fiord. By the way, I'm not wearing the cap I pulled out of the Briney, the boating company provided it.
After lunch Adrian & Steph, our guides, took us on a wee tour of some backwater and explained that the point we were currently in is called Sand Fly Creek for obvious reasons and that this is where in days of yore local law breakers would get tied to a tree and left to be bitten to sh*t. For those unfamiliar, sand flies are to NZ what midges are to Scotland only they're bigger and can cause more damage. Well, there we are bobbing about and getting bitten to death whilst Adrian & Steph go off on this massive long rambling Maori story about the creation of NZ (or Aotearoa as it is in Maori). Hmmm, didn't recall infringing any laws recently. Nice one. Steve actually fell asleep.
That night we stay at the Milford Sound Lodge, have our first wash in three days (Steve & Dom smelt ripe, I naturally smelt of roses) and collected the food parcel that Teapot had sent out for us. We actually sent half of it back to Queenstown as we had clearly over catered.
Two things punctuated our stay at the Milford Sound Lodge. Firstly, Steve whilst carrying his dinner comprising of a massive plate of spaghetti from the kitchen to the dining room didn't spot the step down and spilt it all over the floor like a giant pile of dog sick. Nice one.
Secondly, we were in a mixed dorm and Dom was snoring like a boat crashing on rocks. The poor Dutch girl that was in the bunk above him couldn't sleep and eventually woke him up to tell him to pipe down. Dom, on being woken up, and using the logic of a lunatic, thought she must be complaining about someone else. He decided it was Steve so he then got up and punched Steve saying:
"Shut the f*ck up dude, the poor girl above me can't sleep."
He then went back to sleep and proceeded to snore as before. Steve was a little perplexed. Later sobs emanate from the bunk above Dom as Dutch bird realises she's in for a sleepless night. Oh dear.
She was on the same bus as us the next morning back to The Divide where we were going to pick up our hike. She didn't speak to us.
