Keeping Left...still

Arriving on the South Island at the small port town of Picton, I was greeted with more rain...not hard to believe given that this past summer in Northland was wetter and cooler than usual--I'm beginning to believe that I have rain clouds following me no matter where I show up in this country. On the other hand, there was a rainbow straddling the town as I drove off the ship, perhaps a good omen for the next five months or so to be spent in the South. Immediately on the two hour drive to the northern coastal city of Nelson (pop. 45,000), the sunniest city in New Zealand and considered one of its most liveable, you're greeted with the evidence of New Zealand's growing reputation as a wine-producing haven. Vineyard after vineyard dot the landscape of the Marlborough region, the heart of the country's esteemed Sauvignon Blancs, Chardonnays, and Pinot Gris'. Marlborough is where a verdant landscape intersects with the moisture of the Cook Strait to produce grapes that are responsible for a rather rapid rise in New Zealand's international wine reputation. Guided tours abound, taking tourists by car or bicycle to some of the region's most well-known vineyards for a closer inspection of the production process with meals to match.

Since I only drink red, I drove right through the region.

Upon arriving in Nelson, I was reminded of Wellington, only on a much smaller scale. With considerably less wind. One thing I have learned since arriving in country more than 7 1/2 months ago is that every New Zealand town looks almost exactly the same. Oh, and expect to be warmer outside than inside.

Needless to say, almost as if God gets a kick out of hearing me complain to myself, Nelson, the reputed sunniest city in the country, greeted me with more rain. It's no wonder New Zealand's landscape is neon green. The town itself, after hearing such good things from friends who had already visited, cast me in a horror movie of sorts--nights in town in the early part of the week are dead. I was one of but a handful of people walking downtown at night and was half expecting to be dragged into an alley by the undead.

On my second and final night in town, my rental car was broken into in the hostel carpark and my digital camera and Ipod in the glove compartment, as well as my bookbag in the trunk, were stolen. Good times. The police came out to document the theft and write up a report. Sadly, the pictures I had taken on my previous week of travel--about 30 in total--are gone with the camera. Fortunately, all of the other photos on the camera had been uploaded to the blog. After arriving in Queenstown, I received an e-mail from someone who had found my mostly empty bookbag halfway up a tree, so I may be able to get the bag back. But Nelson's final salute to me was to make me a victim of crime. For that, I will always hold a special place in my heart for the sun capital of New Zealand. Rock on, Nelson! Remind me to apply for a job in the Nelson Chamber of Commerce.

After my first encounter with the New Zealand police, I subsequently drove down the West Coast Highway to the tourist heavy Franz Josef glacier--midway down the South Island on the, you guessed it, west coast. I don't get a chance to walk on a glacier very often...I've never seen a glacier before, so after spending a night in the small town, I did a half-day hike on the glacier, which was well worth the money. Provided boots, crampons, a rain jacket (the glacier gets 6-8 meters of rain per year), hat and gloves, and overpants, our small group got a guided 3km walk to the glacier wall, up rock outcroppings with ladders, through the rainforest in the valley, and subsequently about 90-120 minutes walking on the glacier itself. Full day hikes take you farther up the glacier, but I felt pretty confident after it was all said and done that I had gotten the point. It's ice. The scenery, to say the least, is stunning. This is where I would show you the pictures, but if you remember my story, my camera was stolen. In Nelson.

From Franz Josef, I drove 25kms down the road to Lake Matheson, the most photographed lake in the country, framed as it is by the Southern Alps with clear reflections of the mountains shimmering in the calm waters of the pristine lake. Again, I'd show you a picture...but...

...then onward to Queenstown, my final destination for the winter. The drive from Haast to Wanaka and then to Queenstown was probably the most scenic of drives that I had seen up to that point in New Zealand. Winding through the snow-capped Southern Alps and the lakes they frame was visually extraordinary.

Queenstown is a skiing town and immediately reminds me of Aspen. It's cold. But quaint. And expensive. It sits on Lake Wakatipu and is literally surrounded by the Southern Alps. I took the gondola up the mountain that sits right behind the town and was so impressed by the sights that I bought a season pass for the gondola.

In the following days, I drove to Wanaka, a smaller version of Queenstown located an hour north. Again the drive over the Crown Mountain pass takes me right back to similar high-altitude roads in Colorado. Wanaka is even more quaint than Queenstown, but at less than half its size, seems too small for my liking. It does, however, sit on a lake itself with perhaps an even more aesthetically pleasing view from town.

While I still had the rental car, I drove 3.5 hrs to Milford Sound, one of the most awe-inspiring parts of New Zealand's geography and featured in any literature you'd read about the country. The drive from Te Anau to Milford is THE best drive I've had thus far in country. Simply unbelievable. Driving on yet another winding, narrow mountain road, sheer rock cliffs above, unrivalled vistas, valley fog, imposing mountains, tropical rainforest...the country seems to offer it all.

Except insulation.

I returned the car to the rental agency after adding more than 3000kms to its odometer (2000 miles) and was promptly told that I was responsible for the cost to repair the damaged driver-side lock that the thief had jimmied in order to get in the car. The customer service rep would get a job in the vestibule of hell, if she wanted it. You know, when she gets down there. Though an inauspicious end to my two week journey from the northern part of the North Island to the southern part of the South Island, I feel tremendous satisfaction in having seen alot of what makes the country such an attractive destination for visitors from around the world. The country owes a debt of gratitude to Peter Jackson.

Next time...live from Queenstown, the adrenaline capital of the world...where you can jump out of, from, into, and through, and by all accounts secrete enough adrenaline in a given day to choke an African elephant.