Rain from Hasst to Wanaka

Rain at Lake Hawea

On the Hasst Highway

Headlands Bluff, Near Hasst

Just before Hasst, heading south, one encounters what must be the world's longest one-lane bridge, perhaps the better part of a kilometer, with two “passing bays,” just in case you meet another vehicle. (The train track does not go this far south). The bridge crosses the Hasst River, which drains many mountains and valleys east of here, just before it meets the sea. The whole area is replete with geological features of earlier times, when the glaciers came right down to the sea.

From Hasst, the road turns east and follows the river up into the mountains to Hasst Pass. We did all this in the continuing rain, stopping occasionally to walk back to a waterfall viewpoint or some other feature. Lots of waterfalls in this terrain. The vegetation also changes, the fern trees and such giving way to the alpine (more properly, montane) flora to which we are more accustomed. Still richly forested, big trees, but not so dense and impenetrable as the bush.

Beyond the pass, one enters into a sort of lake country, now in or near the Mount Aspiring National Park. These are high, enormous lakes, remnants from the ice ages, many miles long and presumably very deep. We spent an hour or more driving past Lake Wanaka and then Lake Hawea. One of the photos shows Lake Hawea. Note rain.

At length, we arrived in the tourist town of Wanaka, on the edge of Mt. Aspiring NP, and decided to hold up here, at a “backpacker” lodge, for a few days, regrouping, hiking, etc.

Note on accommodations. Since Australia, we have noted the prevalence of “backpacker” accommodations everywhere. We have stayed at many, including the holiday parks. Essentially, they offer a range of accommodations, everything from a tent-site to en suite rooms, with a commons area including ample kitchen, appliances, utentsils, dishes, etc. The place we are at in Wanaka even has its own bar-ware. These accommodations may seem favored by the younger, gap-year set, but not really. There are always families, people our age (or nearly so), trekkers and trampers, all sorts of nationalities. It's a great way to travel, affordable, and a great way to meet others of like interests.

Don't Go Too Near the Glaciers

Beginning around Greymouth, on the coast, the land begins to change. Everything turns grey, the rock, the rivers, etc. The weather also turned grey. The sunny weather we have enjoyed, even in the rain forests, is over for a while. It is cloudy and raining intermittently. Looking at the map, we know that to our east are the Southern Alps, not particularly high mountains, but high enough to be intensely glaciated. The area around here receives about 5m of rain a year. Yes, 5 meters. Higher up, that means tons of snow, ice, glaciers, and glacial milk in the streams and rivers. 

Before turning east into the mountains, however, the road continues further south to Hokitika (“Hoki”), a small but picturesque enclave of artisans and craftspersons. We spent a few hours looking at the shops, particularly the jade and wood shops. Jade is all over the west side of the island, and the Maori used it extensively for all kinds of practical and ceremonial purposes. Hoki also features the Hokitika Sock Machine Museum, where one may not only view sock manufacturing machines of the past but also purchase fine socks, many manufactured locally. See illustration for evidence I am not making this up. No one could make this up. 

We proceeded on, now more easterly toward our goal for the day, the Franz Josef and Fox glaciers, relatively massive glaciers coming down from Mt. Cook & friends. At their height, they came nearly to the sea, but, we are now (for the last 10,000 years or so) in an age of glacial retreat. We took in the visitor center at the Franz Josef, drove out to see it, but decided it would be better to do our daily walk at the Fox glacier, a few more km south. We also theorized it might not be raining at the Fox. We did indeed walk out to near the edge of the Fox. Just a second before the picture below was snapped, the glacier calved—a shocking roar and then a splash nearly as high at the glacier itself. We had seen calving before, at Glacier Bay in Alaska and also in the Alps, but never anything quite so large as this one. You can see some of the debris in the lower right of the photo. Half an hour later, as we walked closer to the farthest viewpoint on the trail, we heard that two persons had been killed in the incident we had earlier witnessed from far away. Park rescue and recovery staff began passing us en route to the scene. We learned later that two Australian men, in their 20s, had ventured well beyond the authorized viewpoint and were indeed killed. In the news coverage, a Park official noted that “people just love to touch the ice.” The last photo above is of some of the debris as it washed pass us in the river. 

We drove on, further south, ever more grey, and camped at another holiday park, taking advantage of the kitchen and dining room facilities. Vicki fixed chicken cordon-bleu, and we spent much of the evening chatting with Kiwis from Palmerston North, en route to tramps in the south, as we are. Palmerston North is a sister city of our hometown, Missoula.

 Hokitika's World-Famous Museum of Sock Manufacturing      

Glacier meets the jungle: the Franz Josef Glacier

The Fox Glacier, just after a tragedy

Calving debris

Give Way

One of the South Island's many charms is the custom of occasionally combining railroad with auto/truck bridges. The bridges are mostly one lane anyway (regardless of length; sometimes hundreds of meters), population is sparse, traffic is light, so, what the hey, why not have trains and cars and trucks share the same bridge?

Here, south of Greymouth, as on all other New Zealand RR crossings, motorists are helpfully reminded that trains have the right of way.

Heaphy to Pancakes

Tuesday morning we hiked a few miles of the Heaphy Track, which begins at the campground, up through the bush to Scott's Overlook and Scott's Beach. From that point, the Heaphy turns inland and proceeds more or less east the rest of its length, some 82km. No water taxis on this tramp. I can't imagine trying to land anything in the Tasman surf we have seen.

We are trying to walk a bit every day in preparation for our next tramp, the Milford, in two weeks, way down south, much more strenuous than the Abel Tasman. After the walk, we drove south, back to Westport, visiting the public library there and its free internet, and then still further south on route 6, which is sometimes along the largely uninhabited coast and sometimes in the also largely uninhabited inland bush. En route we stopped for the “Pancakes and Blowholes” site, a major attraction, giant fractured cliffs of thinly-layered limestone jutting out into the sea, wonderfully sculpted, and featuring enormous sink-hole-like affairs through which the crashing sea blows and spouts during high tide. We were there at low tide, so did not see the full effect. It was most impressive, nonetheless. At the DOC visitor center we found what has to be one of the better t-shirts of the trip, with the “not all who wander are lost” quote from Tolkien. Really ties things together, especially here in NZ.

We camped at the Top 10 in Greymouth, stopping early so Vicki could fabricate and install mosquito netting in the Bongo penthouse, where we sleep. I steamed mussels for dinner; again.

The Road Does Not Go Ever On From Here, North of Karamea

Irimahuwhuero, Along the West Coast Between Westport and Greymouth

Pancakes and Blowholes

What Do They Eat When They Can't Get Hobbit?

Across the pass and into the west side of the island, we drove on to Westport and then north on the coast road, 67, as far as it goes, past Karamea to the campground on the beach at Kohaihai. En route we spent the afternoon exploring the truly pristine forest at Operara, including what has to be one of the world's largest natural arches...hundreds of feet high and across. The bush-—these few square miles never logged—-was the main attraction, and we took a long hike back through it, marveling at the giant trees, the creeks, pools, falls, and the rest. It is indeed like another world.

The evening, after a grilled steak dinner, we spent on the beach, watching huge breakers, 8-10 feet, and waiting for the sun to set over the Tasman Sea. There were two or three other parties on the beach, as far as one could see. The surf was enormous and crashing and not at all inviting.

Today was also our first experience of the west side's legendary sand flies. Whatever curiosity we might have had about them was quickly satisfied. They are indeed Satan's spawn. We are bathing in DEET.

Tasman Sunset, North of Karamea

In Operara bush

Treebeard

Very large arch, Operara

But maybe the above arch was only the second level;
it rested on a larger arch through which passed this
creek...

Aloft

"...he seemed to hear the noise of dim waves and to see a winged form flying above the waves and slowly climbing the air...an ecstasy of flight made radiant his eyes and wild his breath and tremulous and wild and radiant his windswept limbs...". Ever since a try at para-sailing over Chamonix in 1993, I have had an interest in polyester-based aircraft, especially the motorized versions known as “micro-lights.” They are essentially hang-gliders with motors attached. Also a cockpit and wheels. Vicki saw an ad in an NZ paper and gave me a scenic flight (tandem, of course) in a micro-light for Christmas. Aviation is an essential part of tourism, especially adventure tourism, and the Mouteka airfield is easily identified by the number of gliders, skydivers, para-sailers, hang-gliders, stunt aircraft, and, yes, micro-lights, above it. Tasman Sky Adventures was the vendor—they are the only micro-light vendor in New Zealand—and on Monday I had a GREAT 45 minute ride, covering much of the tramp we did last week. Part of the flight was scenic, over incredible terrain, coastline, and sea, and part was about the craft itself, communication, how it's steered, maneuvered, etc. The take-off and climb surprised me with their quickness. We got to the cruising altitude of 1,000 feet in what seemed like a few seconds. We continued at that altitude for most of the flight, except for Bark Bay and inland a bit over the mountains, going to 3,000. Airspeed was generally 55-60mph. Low and slow, how I like it. The landing, on a grass strip, was very smooth. I can't say I was in heaven, but I was very close. Thanks, Vicki. Oh, the plane had a Rotax engine, like our snowmobile! After the micro-flight, we provisioned up at Motueka, and, having previously done the wash, repacked, etc., we set forth generally west/south-west, across the pass, and spent the night at a campground on the great Buller river, 15km out of Murchison. En route we drove way up a valley to see Mt. Owen, site of the Dimrill Dale.

Junior Birdman

Anchorage Bay

Bark Bay

Some boaties at a cove

Time and Tide

The really interesting part of the Abel Tasman, apart from the unspeakably gorgeous scenery throughout, is the tidal crossings. The tides here run 4-6 feet, and the Abel Tasman track crosses several estuaries--but only at low tide. Thus the AT tramper carefully reads the tidal charts and proceeds accordingly. Our first was Torrent Bay, about a quarter mile across. One looks at these bays and estuaries at high tide and thinks they are just more of the ocean, impassable on foot. Hours later, they are flat, wet, sandy expanses, populated by abundant marine life, mud crabs, clams, sea snails, and so on. One walks right across, trying to crunch as few shells as possible. All have rivulets that have to be forded, so at length one removes boots and puts on sandals or just goes barefoot. The largest of the crossings was at Awarua, which the Park describes as “dangerous,” but only outside the 4 hour low-tide window. It was about half a mile across. Conveniently, there were two low-tides per day, generally between 7 and 9 AM and then 7 and 9 PM. I don't think we ever lost a minute waiting for the tides. They don't wait for us, as is well known. We did have to get up a bit early for Onetahuti, which was in the middle of the day's tramp, but when you're in bed by 9:30 that's not a problem.

The days of hiking were relatively leisurely, 10-15 km, with hills less than 400 feet. Carrying a backpack on the beach gets a bit tiresome. It's interesting how the sand works a slightly different set of leg and hip muscles. On a couple days we arrived at the hut early enough for me to do an extracurricular hike, the most memorable of which was a couple miles to Awarua Lodge for a beer and a pizza, half of which I carried back to Vicki at the hut. We had had lunch at the Lodge earlier in the day, Angus ribeye for Vicki, and lamb for me, both excellent, especially for such a remote place. I also hiked out to Separation Point on our return from Whariwharangi to Totaranui, to see the seals. (See illustration). Vicki's shoulder held up fairly well through the five days, a little achey on Saturday, our longest day, but otherwise OK.

We are back in Motueka now (Monday morning), having spent the night at a motel here, washing, repacking etc. More high adventure this afternoon.

The Hut at Bark Bay

A Typical Abel Tasman Scene

Yearling Seal Frolicking in a Pool

A Water Taxi

Vicki adds:

January 5, 2009-- Motueka, South Island, New Zealand

We are just back from the 5 day Abel Tasman Tramp and it was spectacular. The scenery would remind you of what the California coast must have been 80 years ago—but with more tropical vegetation. It was exactly what one would expect Hawaii to be if you could get ¾ of the people not to go there. Here a crowded beach in mid afternoon would have 4-5 kayaks pulled ashore with perhaps 6-8 people actually on the beach itself. In the morning and after late afternoon most of the coves were deserted, especially in the far Northern areas. What really appealed to me were the waterfalls with granite boulders and wonderful pools—so if you wanted to take a dip without the salt you could. Of course the water is quite cold by a native Miamian standards, but for you who grew up swimming in the Flathead it would be fine.

New Zealand is such a beautiful place that Mark and I have quite fallen in love with it. If we didn't have so many ties back to the States, I think we would seriously think about moving here. Property costs about half to 2/3 of similar US because salaries are also lower. But even though most of you think we are quite adventurous, we are too timid to leave so many friends, family, and places we love behind. However, a six month trip back here after Europe would now be high on our agenda.

Mozzies, Boaties, and Turning Custard

The Abel Tasman National Park occupies a northern coastline and interior of the South Island. It is still temperate land, and the coast itself is alternating golden beach, rocky shore, bay, hillside, cliff, and the “bush,” with its incredibly clear streams, waterfalls, and pools, its fern trees and other tropical vegetation. The Abel Tasman coastal track winds 51km across all this, up and down, to and fro, sometimes forest, sometimes beach, sometimes low-tide estuary. The trails--”tracks”-- all but paved and hand-railed, are the best we have ever seen, including the Khumbu in Nepal, where the trails support commerce as well as recreation. We parked the Bongo at the Abel Tasman Aqua Taxi's carpark at Marahau and walked into the park, unceremoniously starting the trek—Kiwis call them “tramps”--up and down, into the bush, down a cliff, onto the beach, and back again. No photograph can convey the richness and diversity of the scenery throughout. We had generally good weather throughout, mostly sunny, one cloudy threatening day (custard), one rainy night. The Abel Tasman sees some 30,000 visitors a year, huge by NZ standards, its largest park. (Compare Yellowstone at 3MM). In the 60 or more km we walked, I saw not one piece of trash (“rubbish”), not a cigarette filter, nothing. Yet there are plenty of people around, mostly “boaties,” people arriving or traveling on their own boats and kayaks, and day visitors arriving and tramping via water taxi. The water taxis run nearly the length of the park, stopping at the major bays. You can ride them to any point, hike a bit, then return from another point. Or you can simply ship your backpack to a given site and from there to another site. Very civilized. We wanted to carry our own packs, so we eschewed all this but for the return trip from Whariwharangi (actually Totarnui) back to Marahau. The number of backpackers, such as we were, is strictly regulated by the campground and hut system. The huts, four of them, hold about 24 persons each, the campgrounds about the same. Traveling north, as we did, one sees pretty much the same people from hut to hut, and forms acquaintances. For foreigners, this is invaluable and endearing. The hut trampers are mostly Kiwis, families, couples, a few Australians, and a sprinkling of Americans, and other nationalities. (We spent three nights in the company of Elizabeth, a civil engineer from Belmont, CA.) The Kiwis were marvelous in explaining their ways and their land and in welcoming visitors. As we marched northward, we stayed at the Anchorage, Bark Bay, Awarua, and Whariwharangi huts. All were spartan but quite comfortable, double-deck platform beds with mattresses, a common cooking/eating area, bathrooms with flush toilets, showers (cold), filtered water, and more. Even the campgrounds had running water and flush toilets. We spent New Year's eve at the Anchorage hut, the first of the four huts on the tramp. In the hut, we were all in bed and asleep by 10. No electricity. The fireworks and celebrations on the beach, a few yards away (the boaties and campers), awoke Vicki a few minutes past midnight, but not me. I slept in the New Year. Oh, mozzies are mosquitoes, of which we saw few, but rather more sand flies, and a few ankle bites.

A Fall and Pool in the Bush Oyster Catchers, Always Seen in Pairs, One Hunting, One Guarding...  

Happy New Year, All

It's Tuesday afternoon, December 30th, and I am blogging from the public library in Motueka, South Island, where we are provisioning up for our Abel Tasman tramp. It begins tomorrow morning and will last five days, 50-some km of beach, cove, and a couple tidal crossings (the trail goes under at high tide). When we get to the end, January 4, we'll take the sea taxi back to the beginning where we are parking the Bongo. So, our next posting will be on or about January 4.

In the meantime, Happy New Year to all. We'll be in a hut somewhere along the Kaiteriteri coast, eating freeze-dried backpacker food, hopefully warm but neither sun-burned nor mosquito-eaten, and enjoying yet another adventure.

First Day on South Island

One Ring to Rule Them All... Our morning project, having debarked safely at Picton after a smooth voyage was swapping out campervans. The green Bongo's AC went out, could not be repaired, so they swapped us a black one. The swap-out took most of the morning, but at least afforded the opportunity to inventory stuff. We then drove off, stopping in beautiful Nelson, where Vicki visited the jeweler/goldsmith who made the One Ring. For lunch, we stopped at the Mussel Pot, in Havelock, the green shell mussel capital of the world. It was a great green mussel theme-restaurant. I was in heaven. We camped at the Bethany campground in Maiateriteri, near the start of the Abel Tasman. And finally got some sleep.

Sunrise on Cook Strait

New Improved Millennium Bongo

Note Roof Decor

Day in Wellington, Night at Sea

Our day in Wellington was good, several hours at Te Papa, the wonderful still new and technologically up-to-date national museum on the harbor; another LOTR site on Mt. Victoria; strolling the downtown, great used bookstores; then a dinner and a movie (Twilight; Vicki's idea). After the movie we walked back to the Waterloo Quay to catch our ferry to the South Island. This was the Santa Regina, departing Wellington Harbor at 3AM, arriving at Picton at 6:30. Very little sleep for either of us.

Part of Te Papa and the Wellington Harbor

I love museums with quirky collections...a corrugated car

The Good Ship Santa Regina

Folfing at Orthanc, in Isengard

Today we did a day tour with Wellington Movie Tours, seeing the various Wellington and Hutt River LOTR sites...Isengard, Rivendell, the shortcut to the mushrooms, the Weta Cave, Peter Jackson's studio complexes, and on and on, perhaps two dozen in all. Moving from site to site, we saw clips aboard the bus and then also via laptop clips in the field so you could see exactly how the site was done, filmed, etc. It was a great tour, highly recommended, and affordable too.

We're spending another day in Wellington, then ferrying late tonight to the South Island and Tuesday the first of our four NZ tramps, the Abel Tasman beach tramp, five days. We won't be posting much next week.

Boxing Day

Boxing Day is the day after Christmas, a legal holiday in NZ. We have asked perhaps a dozen Kiwis what it is that Boxing Day celebrates, and no one has even the slightest idea, not even a conjecture. (The Boxer Rebellion was it?). The whole nation remains en holiday, nonetheless, most everything closed, as on Xmas day. Few if any post-Xmas sales here, at least in the small towns. We thought the Thai and Nepalese were holiday-happy!

After breakfast at the campsite, we walked for an hour or so through the beach-side forest at Waitarere, more woodland scenes from LOTR, particularly TTT and ROTK. Waiterere is a government-owned but privately-managed forest. We have passed many such forests in our travels here—they are easily identified, commercially-viable trees, tall, straight, not the local weird stuff; in some cases immense forests with little undergrowth. Ideal for filming certain kinds of woodland scenes involving short people. The clear-cuts are immense too, the largest I have ever seen, including Oregon. We then drove on in the direction of Wellington. “Wellywood” as some now call it..

The Otaki Gorge of the River Hutt is said to be a beautiful place, up in the southern mountains, another place where a variety of LOTR scenes were shot, particularly from FOTR, so we cut off the main road there. It is an 18k drive, mostly on unsealed (gravel) one-lane road above the gorge. Initially, we thought we'd be the only people back that far from the beach, but, no, there were more than a hundred vehicles coming and going and parking at the tramp sites, the picnic sites, the campground sites,the fishing sites, the caretaker sites, etc. Boxing Day, mate. We barely saw the river and gorge, but the foliage en route, especially the green tunnel, was extraordinary.

From Otaki, actually from Levin, the northbound highway was bumper-to-bumper, Wellingtonians escaping to the northwestern beaches for the long holiday. Fortunately, the southbound lane was fairly open and free, and thus, after 40km or so, we entered gorgeous Wellington, the capital, on a bright and clear but not even warm afternoon. We are at the Apollo Motor Lodge, smack downtown, a few blocks from Te Papa, the national museum. Dinner is store-bought New World roast chicken with salad and Xmas pudding and cream custard. Yum. Mussels from the pictured bin tomorrow night. I am not sure what Vicki will have.

Today we did a day tour with Wellington Movie Tours, seeing the various Wellington and Hutt River LOTR sites...Isengard, Rivendell, the shortcut to the mushrooms, the Weta Cave, Peter Jackson's studio complexes, and on and on, perhaps two dozen in all. Moving from site to site, we saw clips aboard the bus and then also via laptop clips in the field so you could see exactly how the site was done, filmed, etc. It was a great tour, highly recommended, and affordable t

Watch out for Orcs!

Approaching Welllington on the M1

That's 75 cents a pound for these puppies!

Kiwi Christmas

Merry Christmas to all from Whakapapa!

Our Christmas began with sleeping in (indoors, no less), exchange of modest presents (mostly camping and trekking stuff; “here, give me this for Xmas”), and then a nice cooked English/NZ hotel Xmas breakfast. We skyped with Rebecca and Rachel, with whom we had not talked in some time (nice to hear of them carrying on the traditions), then posted nearly 2 weeks of blogs, packed up and left Whakapapa. Happily, the volcanos of Mordor, I mean, Tongariri National Park, did not erupt nor explode during our visit. See illustration.

It has been a memorable Xmas. As I wrote earlier, it is our first in 40 years by ourselves, no family, extended nor otherwise. Not a trend we want to establish. We are used to warm climate Xmases, being from Miami—white Xmases are still a novelty—but it is a little difficult thinking of Xmas in the summer, which is what it is here. School's just out, the summer holidays are here, and caravans and backpackers are everywhere. Oh well. It's beautiful and festive enough. And the NZ Christmas trees (patutpikawa, or takupakawa, or tapoketa-tapoketa) are something special.

We drove on south and southwest to Tawhai Falls, site of several scenes from The Two Towers, Smeagol's fishing holes, among others. (Did I mention I visited the national trout fishing museum yesterday, near Lake Taupo? quite impressive). Then on further to Ohutu, from which some of the Anduin, the Great River, scenes were shot. OK, it's the Rangitikei, not the Anduin. The gorge through which the Rangitikei river passes is pretty spectacular. The actual site is now a bungy jump, of course, allegedly the highest on the North Island. The site itself was closed, it being Xmas Day, so I did not do the jump. As if.

From there we drove on to Waitarere, near Foxton, on the southwestern beach of the North Island, the Kapiti coast, and have camped at a small private campground. We bypassed Palmerston North, one of Missoula's sister cities. I did take a shot, at least, of the road sign. We have seriously underestimated the North Island and have had to really rush through it. A couple months here would be good. Next time. In some ways, I am glad I have visited this place relatively late in life. Earlier I might well have wanted to come here permanently.

The terrain as we drive is ever changing and ever interesting. After miles of river and hills and mountains, the last score of kilometers were relatively flat agricultural land, and now the giant dunes and beaches and forests emerge again. Dinner, en Bongo, was left-over Xmas fondue.

Christmas Eve in Mordor

From Matamata we drove on further into the center of the island. I have written little so far of the diversity of this place...flora and fauna, geography, culture, and the rest. It really is beyond belief. In the north of the island, you would think you were in England. OK, there are no Norman churches, nor castles, nor hill forts. But there are beautiful small towns, rolling green hills, dotted with woods here and there, and sheep and sheep and more sheep, and also lots of dairy cattle. When you look at the woods more closely, however, you begin to see fern trees, Kauri trees, radial pines, and many other sorts of vegetation that don't belong in England. And although there are no hill forts nor castles, many, many of the hills are terraced. At first, we thought we were looking at something like Mt. Dumbo in Missoula, where the terraces resulted from varying shorelines of glacial lake Missoula. But here the terraced hills are all over the island, some right on the sea. It turns out these are remnants of Maori hill villages, fortifications, ramparts, staircases, and the rest. The extent of the works is more than impressive.

The northern half of the island, such as we saw, was bays and beaches, and harbors and islands, and beautiful green rolling hills and forests. In the interior now, at a place called Whakapapa, we are in the mountainous volcanic zone of the northern island, just west of an enormous caldera/lake. From Matamata west, one is in a seismic zone comparable to Yellowstone, geysers and mudpots, and the like, but all towered over by three snow-capped and active volcanoes. We are at a hotel at the foot of Mt. Ruapehu (about 8,000 feet), which last erupted in 1995. (The largest volcanic explosion in recorded history occurred here in AD 181, creating the giant Lake Taupo.) This afternoon we drove up to the ski area above Whakapapa, where a variety of scenes from LOTR were shot, most notably some of those from Mordor and Emyn Muil. The rain and mist have stayed all day, and only added to the gloomy and forbidding sense of the place.

Family and friends will be relieved to know that, despite the surroundings, we are having as much of a traditional Christmas as is possible. We don't recall ever having a Christmas just the two us, in forty or more years. However, we bought and decorated a small Bongo-sized (artificial) Christmas tree, we have bought and wrapped small presents for each other, and we have even had the traditional Christmas eve fondue dinner, the cheese and chocolate courses anyway.

Vicki adds:

Christmas Eve, 2008—Mordor—Tongariro National Park, New Zealand

Yes, we are in Mordor and this afternoon walked the path that Frodo, Sam and Gollum took out of Emyn Muil and into Mordor. Yesterday, I walked through Bilbo Baggins door at Bag End and took the first step “out the door” and onto The Road Goes Ever On. I had my picture made in front of the Party Tree and collected bark from the oak that grew from the top of Bag End. I am in Hobbit heaven and having a very Merry and unforgettable Christmas. What is missing is sharing it with family and friends. When I bought the cheese for our Christmas Eve fondue today, I wished the deli clerk a Merry Christmas and started crying. But we are having a good Christmas.

We have a tiny tree that was strapped down in the van and tonight we are in a hotel (the highest in New Zealand) on the flanks of a volcano with two more right next door. We have moved the tree onto the tv set and laid out the presents. For dinner we clandestinely made cheese fondue on our one burner stove and then chocolate fondue with fruit. We have also managed to squeeze in watching half of Christmas Vacation on our Ipod and a quick trip to the hot tub. After presents and a hotel breakfast in the morning we head off for Ohakune to see Ithilien and part of the River Anduin. We have a very busy next three days leaving the Shire and visiting Wellington before we take the ferry to the South Island and start our first 5 day trek along the coastline at Abel Tasmin Park.

I am very behind in my blog as we only allowed 2 weeks for the North Island and it needs about 2 months. We have been camping most nights and sightseeing and driving from early in the morning to late in the evening. There has been lots of light since as you know, December 21st is the longest day of the year! Having summer in December takes a lot of getting used to even for native Floridians.

Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas and a wonderful New Year. Vicki

Hobbiton

We broke camp at the Russell Top 10 Tuesday morning and drove, at length (we've got to get a proper map), to Matamata, more in the center of the island, and to...Hobbiton. As our friends and family well know, we are Tolkien fans, and part of the attraction of New Zealand was the filming of The Lord of the Rings here in the late 90s. The Hobbiton scenes were filmed on a sheep ranch outside Matamata, now open to the public, for a price, and Tuesday afternoon found us riding the “Gandalf” bus with a couple dozen or so others out to see the site and the remains of Bag End, Bag Shot Row, the Party Tree, and so on. It's all a long story, what remains of the set, what New Line Cinema has permitted, what the owners of the farm can do, but, for Students of the Lore, it was a great and special experience, standing where Gandalf and Bilbo blew smoke rings, where Bilbo made his farewell speech, where Pippin and Merry set off the fireworks, the actual stone steps leading down from the door....

In the evening, we went to Mitia, a Maori village/tribe experience, dinner and a show that was actually very well done. The dinner was traditional, steamed in a below-ground oven, lamb, chicken, sweet potato, etc., and the cultural show and tour informative, respectful, and fun.

In a driving rain, we stayed at yet another Holiday Park. Fortunately, the Bongo does not leak.

Bag End

The Party Tree and Lake at Hobbiton, from Bag End

Sailing the Bay of Islands

Monday we signed onto a “tall ship” cruise on the Bay of Islands. The tall ship was the “Good Ship R. Tucker Thompson,” an 85 foot schooner. The Tucker is a non-profit enterprise, taking tourists like us out into the bay for a day's ride and training young people in the arts of sailing. The captain was assisted by four trainees and a cook, but they all seemed to know what they were doing, keeping the civilians entertained (aaargh...) and involved in the various coiling and coming about, etc. We sailed several miles out into the bay, which indeed has some 200 hundred islands, enjoying scones and tea in the morning, putting in at a cove, walking the beach and climbing a hill, and then returning to the Tucker for a grilled pork and chicken lunch. The day was enhanced by conversations with a Wellington couple who patiently answered all our many questions about Kiwis and New Zealand.