Tag: New Zealand

In search of blue cod

We wanted to go out for lunch on our last day in New Zealand. We decided on a seafood restaurant because people kept raving to us about blue cod. Ok, so it was Eric, Eric raved about blue cod.

So I googled seafood restaurants in Christchurch, chose one with a nice looking menu and picked a random time that we might rock up after driving from Arthur’s Pass.

Turns out this restaurant wasn’t exact in Christchurch. It was on the outskirts of Christchurch. And when you have no internet and the GPS in the car won’t work, you have to memorise where this restaurant might be and hope like hell you’re driving in the right direction.

We were sandwiched between semi-trailers the entire way, slowing us down and hiding all road signs, but we finally found ourselves approaching the village. As we rounded the corner, the whole port was spread out in front of us. Rail lines, container ships, cranes, semi-trailers loaded with logs. Rocks, noise, dust.

The trucks surrounding us peeled off down a dirt road in behind a ramshackle structure overlooking all the port activity. The building looked as though any minute a stiff breeze would knock it into the ocean. Worn boards held it together, there were no windows and nothing adorned it. It sat by itself on the side of the road – no shops, cafes, nothing. And no sign of human activity anywhere.

There was a hand written sign out the front stating ‘Chef wanted’.

‘That’s our restaurant,’ I said to Don.

We kept driving right past that old building and around the block, looking at other options. But there wasn’t much else, and we’d booked, so we thought what the hell.

As we walked up the street we could finally see the back part of the restaurant, and it was packed. People laughing, drinking, eating. The food smells as we entered were incredible. We were given the best table and champagne was brought immediately. If we hadn’t had our hearts set on blue cod we would have had difficulty choosing from the amazing menu. And when our lunches arrived, oh my God, that blue cod was indeed delicious. The potatoes were golden, the herb butter sauce light and tasty, the salad fresh.

It had turned out to the perfect choice of restaurant.

I can’t even imagine what it’ll be like when they find a chef.

In love with glaciers

We have arrived at the west coast – New Zealand glacier country!

People have often asked me what’s the best thing I’ve ever seen in my travels, and forever I have answered Svartisen Glacier in Norway.

Australia has a lot of things to offer, but it’s the only continent that doesn’t have glaciers. I can’t even begin with glaciers. They’re just so magnificent – kilometres high, solid and beautiful. Powerful and tangible reminders of how lands were formed. They’ve ever so slowly bulldozed their way through the continents, and crept backwards, leaving new landscapes in their wake. Wikipedia calls them persistent!

I walked on Fox Glacier during that first New Zealand tour, but I’m not sure I recognised the significance of a glacier at the time. I don’t think you can fully appreciate the might of a glacier until you stand in front of the sheer wall of ice at its face. We were lucky enough to walk right up to Svartisen Glacier, to see inside to the ice crystals and shards, to touch the retreating cliff face. It was an extraordinary experience.

We walked up the South side walk to Fox Glacier today. The end of the trail is several kilometres from the glacier, but we could see the ice and snow solid and unmoving at the top of the valley between the mountains. Even from a distance it was spectacular; we stood there for ages just watching it, unwilling to turn and walk back to the car. Then we were on to Franz Josef, where we only caught a glimpse before clouds obscured our view.

Perhaps we’ll try Franz Josef again in the morning. Perhaps I just don’t want to leave glacier country; because glaciers continue to be one of the most spectacular things I’ve ever seen.

Milford Sound

It’s our wedding anniversary and what a fabulous day we’ve had cruising Milford Sound. This is New Zealand’s most famous fjord; deep blue green water, towering mountains and cliffs and spectacular waterfalls. We had endless blue sky and sunshine and were lucky enough to see dolphins and seals. Perfect.

Our driver and tour guide, Eric, was superb. It was quite a long journey to Milford Sound, around five hours in total, and Eric’s commentary was on point. We learnt about the tectonic plates, the history of the land and lakes around Queenstown, the different sheep and cattle being farmed in the area. Volcanoes and their current risks, the elusive yet charming hermit graziers, the poisonous tutu berries, New Zealand freesias, how Shania Twain bought up land in New Zealand. The gold rush and the crazy, failed scheme to dam the lake and expose the gold.

Yes, Eric was knowledgeable, friendly, funny and informative. He told some great stories and was very entertaining. And this was some feat, because we were a tough audience.

‘This hill was featured in Lord of the Rings’ he said as we headed out of Queenstown, ‘is anybody into Lord of the Rings?’

Silence.

‘Ok, nobody? That’s ok we can talk about the glacier that formed this peak.’

‘Has anybody visited Glenorchy yet?’ he asked as we drove around Lake Wakatipu.

Silence. some shaking of heads.

‘No? Ok I highly recommend a visit.’

‘Has anybody experienced a hāngī yet? Eaten meat cooked the traditional hāngī method?’

We all shook our heads, no.

‘Anybody into fishing? Fly fishing?’ he asked hopefully a little later.

No. Nobody was into fly fishing, or had even tried fly fishing.

‘There really is some great trout fishing around the South Island,’ he persevered and went on to regale us with his adventurous fishing exploits.

‘Does anybody play tennis?’ he asked as we drove through Te Anau, home of the annual Tennis Invitational.

‘Anybody know about Lake Taupo?’

‘Does anybody trek?’

No, no and no. By this stage he must have been thinking he’d picked up the fifteen of the most boring tourists in Queenstown.

‘Is anybody a singer?’

This really is where we should have piped up, but honestly we were way past that point by now.

Our apparent lack of hobbies or interests certainly didn’t deter Eric. Over the five hour drive to Milford Sound he told us some cracking stories, knew the history of every place we passed, the geology of the land and waterways and the names and uses of the plants and animals.

Then on the shorter journey home he let us choose songs that we sang at the top of our lungs all the way home.

Even though none of us were singers.

Road Trip New Zealand

We’re going overseas!

Like everybody, it’s been a while. We’re visiting New Zealand’s South Island. Don’s never been to New Zealand other than one night in an Auckland motel when our flight to Chile was delayed. I’ve been three times. I went on a Contiki tour of the South Island many, many years ago when I was within the age bracket and frankly all I have from that are dim memories, blurry photos and a firm conviction that I shall never bungee jump. I’ve been to the North Island to run 10 kms and be rewarded at the finish line with a bottle of wine, and a few years ago I went on a girls’ trip to Waikiki Island to drink wine.

I sense a theme.

Our last overseas trip was India, back in January 2020, on the cusp of the pandemic, and already it’s obvious that I’m no longer match fit in the ways of international travel. Usually I do some research first, but I was so excited booking flights that the research was only secondary.

To start with, I booked our flights ages ago. So long ago that after I’d booked them I realised New Zealand wasn’t even open to tourists yet. Just a small hiccup, only rectified by my anxious scanning of websites and the passage of time.

Then I started researching things to do on the South Island, only to find that seeing everything on the South Island requires at least 143 days. We have seven. That’s ok, I’ve done some targeted planning to narrow down the itinerary to a few key places that have wine, cheese and penguins.

Only yesterday I researched expected temperatures, and was immediately down to Kathmandu for shoes and socks and anything else that might keep the heat in and the cold out. I already had two beannies on the packing list, but the ones I own are for Queensland winters, so it was then on to Spotlight where I bought balls of wool to give to Mum. She’s told me it takes her about a day to knit a beannie so she should get it done with time up her sleeve, even if she does have to deliver it to me at the airport. I have undergarments and overgarments, and am thinking I might need to practice layering before we leave. We should never forget how I go with dressing for the cold.

Don has a couple of t-shirts, a jacket and a beannie, and is wondering what all the fuss is about.

Despite the excess of clothes and the lack of research, we’ll be fine. There are mountains, lakes and glaciers to see, hot tubs to relax in and wine and cheese to consume.

Of course if Qantas loses our luggage, I’m screwed.

Hang the consequences

Waiheke Island

I’m afraid there was just no time – no time – to stop to write a blog last week. Soz. It’s just that a trip away with your girlfriends is an entirely different experience to a trip away with anybody else.

What sets these trips apart from others? There is magic in eight confident, intelligent, funny women travelling together. Grand ideas are hatched, empowering stories shared and sound advice given. We listen to and respect everybody’s opinions, at the same time lending lipsticks and complimenting earrings. We build each other up without even having to think about it.

Our New Zealand trip was eating and drinking and hang the consequences. Wine tastings across the length of the island, cocktails, ordering one of everything from the food menus – the crack cheese, the goat, mulled wine, smoked anything. And as we all know, alcohol and good food draw out the big ideas – establishment of the Brisbane girls’ choir and dance troupe, with the Central coast satellite branch, the Sydney affiliate and the Townsville chapter. A new business solutions company with a job for each of us. The advantages of purchasing a wine fridge. Like I said, the big ideas.

Something else? Girlfriends on tour are much better resourced. Multiple puffy jackets, boots a’plenty, earrings, curling wands, Bluetooth speakers, shopping bags, hairdryers, selfie sticks, board games, keep cups, pickles, it was all covered.

But above all there was the music.

Our entire four days played out with its own soundtrack. Every genre, every era represented. The obscure to the popular. Hilltop Hoods, Olivia Newton-John, Bowie, Haim (pronounced HI-im). Club Can’t Handle Me three times. The Big Chill soundtrack whilst making breakfast, a fully choreographed From LA to New York, a straight up Australian rock session. The biggies – Don’t Pay the Ferryman, Africa, Xanadu – all with a little less choreography but the same dance enthusiasm. A night of the best female artists – think Pat Benatar, Lizzo, Aretha, Janelle Monay – found three of us simply unable to go to bed. You cannot leave the room when Linda Ronstadt is singing.

The music was not limited to the living room of the Airbnb. There was a rousing rendition of Robbie Williams Angels with the soloist at our first restaurant (musicians love it when you do that), a top of our lungs in-house music Human League after the dismal Bledisloe cup defeat and a string of Doobie Brothers hits in the van as we tripped around the island.

At some point there may even have been sock puppets.

Drinking, eating, dancing and singing for four days takes an incredible amount of stamina, perseverance and commitment, not to mention poor judgement. Which leads me to some of the other things that the eight seemingly intelligent women said or did this week.

Watching the Bledisloe and asking if that player in the black with the silver fern on his shirt is Australian.

Group selfies that featured a prominent selfie stick and outstretched arm.

Sleeping three hours past your alarm for your international flight.

Talking about the lions that inhabit Russia.

Wearing two contact lenses in one eye all day.

Constantly being left behind in the shop, the garden, the bathroom, the beach…

Very loosely packed bottles of red wine. Very loosely packed.

All in all, a wonderful, hilarious, uplifting celebration for a fabulous friend.

Happy birthday Gab.

You are definitely smarter than a box of rocks.

#gabsissues

In the way of flights, airports and things going wrong, Don and I have been incredibly lucky in our travels. Well, there was that one time our plane skidded off the runway coming back from Rome, but nothing to worry about, and we got a free flight! No, we’ve been relatively stress free.
Not so my friend Gab.

Gab has had to turn around midway to the airport to go home to fetch her passport on at least three separate occasions.

Gab arrived a day late to my birthday trip to Malaysia, then spent the next three days with no clothes while her suitcase travelled via Tokyo.

Just yesterday Gab and her sister Jen had a passport that wouldn’t work, a bag tag that wouldn’t scan and an Uber driver that wouldn’t…well let’s just say wouldn’t be polite.

Gab has had more flight delays, re-routes, lost luggage, missing passports and shoe blowouts than anyone I know.

And now I am about to embark on a five day girls’ trip to New Zealand to celebrate Gab’s birthday. Gab is already in New Zealand, Madonna and I fly today, so #gabsissues shouldn’t even touch us. #gabsissues are over 2,000km away from us. We even joked that we booked separately to avoid #gabsissues.

As I write this we should be boarding our flight. However, I’m on the couch. Madonna is still in bed. Since last night we’ve had:

Our flight to New Zealand cancelled.

Madonna booked on a late night flight via Sydney, me with nothing.

Madonna rebooked on an early flight via Sydney, me with nothing.

Madonna on the flight via Sydney, me on a flight via Melbourne.

Madonna on the flight via Sydney, me on a direct flight with China Airlines.

A woman on the Qantas helpline who can find no trace of the China Airlines flight that I’m booked on.

Finally, after much key tapping by the woman on the Qantas helpline, we are both on the China Airlines flight to Auckland.

We’re not sitting together. And we’re not entirely sure there isn’t a layover in Shanghai. But what we are sure of is that eventually we’ll get to Gab, the epicentre of #gabsissues.

Let the fun begin.