My dreams aren’t the only things that should be in a twilight zone episode. For some reason, I can’t for the life of me remember what month it is. I mean, sitting here writing this, I know it’s October. But if I’m walking down the street with random thoughts racing through my mind of future and past events, I’ll have to stop and think really hard about the month and time of year. Usually, the first thing that pops into my head is winter, somewhere in February. And I’ll know that is wrong, but it takes a lot of convincing and a reality check to remember it’s still winter/early spring. I am SOO ready for summer. It’s been a year since I’ve experienced those 100ºF days and as much as I usually hate those days when I’m actually in them, I can honestly say I’m sick of winter! So far, it’s been a wet and cold spring here in NZ. I can’t complain today. The sun has actually decided to grace us with its presence! I won’t get my hopes up though. The clouds and rain will be back as soon as I think spring is here to stay!
I heard you are all having an Indian summer. That probably explains the cold and rainy spring here. But don’t worry! I’ll make sure to rub it in when I’m spending my Christmas getting nice and toasted on the beach while you guys are layering up for the cold and rain! Muahahaha!
So, some updates! I’m still working at the café and restaurant. There’s nothing much new worth mentioning about that. I did manage to get out of town again for another 5-day roadtrip around the South Island. I was just ending the worst week I’d had here in New Zealand when two of my Aussie flatmates, Renee and Carmen, swept me down to Queenstown (yes, again!), Te Anau, Milford Sound, and Wanaka. First, you know those rumors about Australians being partiers? They’re all true! It took major effort on my behalf to keep up! “Harden up!” was a phrase I heard all too often when it seemed I was slowing down.
We left Friday night, October 3, from Christchurch to Queenstown. By the time we escaped Christchurch Friday evening traffic, it was already well past 6pm. We were hoping to roll into Queenstown sometime between 9-10, but a series of events that would set the standard for the rest of the trip made that impossible. Without turning this into a novel, everything that could have gone wrong practically did! After a now traditional run in with ‘da fuzz’ as I drove into Queenstown, we finally made it to our hostel sometime after 11pm only to find our dorm beds were lacking any sort of bedding. And just to give you an idea on how cold it was that night, it snowed on the last 2-3 hours of the drive down. Luckily for me, I brought my trusty sleeping bag which has kept me warm while camping in January at Yosemite! As for Renee and Carmen, well, they made due with a few dodgy blankets from the communal lounge and the backseat of the blue beast. Just when I thought I was going to crawl into my sleeping bag and have a nice sleep to prepare myself for the following day’s planned event of skiing (YAY!), the festivities began. Well after midnight, we made our very cold way into town. The next morning, after 3.5 hours sleep, I was surprisingly chipper and ready to hit the slopes. Forget about the 2-8 lane paved Tahoe roads/interstates we’re spoiled on to get up to our snow covered mountain paradise and picture a steep 1.5 car wide switchback dirt road with no guardrails. It’s the type of road I would only take a car I paid US$200 up! When we finally got ourselves together and on the lift, it was past noon. The weather started out great, but as I learned early on, can change to absolute ca-rap within minutes. And it did! The wind picked up...really picked up! Picked up so much, I couldn’t tell if it was actually snowing or if it was blowing snowdrifts. I half expected to see Toto in a basket on the back of a bicycle being peddled by the evil next door neighbor to fly by as I rode the lift to the top. Ok, not really, but if felt like I was on my way to Oz. So, after a whole 2.5 hours of skiing, we called it quits. I was surprised the mountain stayed open through such conditions.
Needless to say, we got an early start to Te Anau, home of August’s 7.1 earthquake. We chilled at the hostel, (not without a bottle of red wine) but only because Te Anau had nothing to offer us other than a few restaurants. I have a feeling if there were happening places to be, we would have been there. I swear I woke up in the middle of the night to feel a small earthquake. Renee and Carmen claim they didn’t feel anything, but did admit to hearing what might have sounded like a quake (or was it someone running down the hallway upstairs even though there wasn’t a third floor, Renee? (o: ) Apparently, Te Anau gets 2-3 quakes/aftershocks a day! If in fact I did feel one, that would make my tally 3 quakes I’ve felt in the past 2 months!
On Sunday, we drove to absolutely beautiful Milford Sound. In “Last Chance to See,” by Douglas Adams, Adams describes Milford and Fiordland as “The sort of landscape that makes you want to burst into spontaneous applause.” (READ THIS BOOK!!!) My pictures won’t do it justice and thinking back to it (having been there less than 2 weeks ago), neither does my memory. It just gave me a certain feeling that can’t be replicated with pictures or memories. Just the fact that I was in snow-covered temperate rainforest with peaks rising directly out of the ocean to over 5,500ft and waterfalls in every nick and crevice of tree covered rock faces was completely beyond me, too much for me to take in. Mitre peak in Milford Sound is believed to be the highest peak in the world to rise directly out of the ocean. I pretty much stayed in one corner of the boat gawking in silence because there was nothing I could think to say other than, “wow.” Every corner we turned showed something equally amazing as the last. I could hear the 4th of July crowds in my head saying “oooo!” and “ahhhh!”
We drove back to Queenstown passing lakes as turquoise as tropical seas and lands as green as desolate forests after spring rains. Another night out and another bottle of wine brought us to Monday. We left Queenstown for the last time on our trip and headed to our next destination, Wanaka. Had I known what Wanaka was like before, I would have spent my first two weeks in NZ there instead of in Queenstown! There was an ambiance about it that made it so calming and made me carefree. We laid in the grass in front of Lake Wanaka for what felt like hours just absorbing the sun, scenery, and whatever thoughts and ideas our surroundings sparked in us. It’s moments in time like that where I start to ponder life and where I’m headed in it. It’s also times like that where I want to be lazy and just stay in that moment forever. There’s no need to describe that evening. I’ve already done so with the last two nights. Use your imagination or read back a paragraph.
We were on the mountain skiing again on Tuesday, but this time to Treble Cone, one of NZ’s steepest.
Unfortunately for me, there weren’t any terrain parks, but there were plenty of natural jumps off of snowdrifts. I took more spills there than I probably have in an entire season at home. It felt good! One of my hardest falls ever occurred when I completely missed a turn and launched myself off trail. Thank goodness for powder landings! It wasn’t even hard enough to lose a ski in all of the tumbling. That’s probably a bad thing now that I think of it. I’m sure another fall going off a jump later in the day caused me to temporarily lose my digital camera. Luckily, a staff member found it the next day and mailed it to Christchurch for me! I’ve grown so attached to it. I’m your typical tourist taking pictures of anything and everything!The drive back to Christchurch was a depressing reality. It was back to work the next day. I did manage to bring back a skiers tan as a souvenir. I’ve brought back what was once a permanent sunglasses tan on the ridge of my nose and a white stripe on both sides of my face. But it only makes me miss summer even more!
No comments:
Post a Comment