Milford Sound

I hate to say it, but despite the beauty of Milford Sound (which is in fact a fiord, not a sound), I'd say that it was over-rated. "What?!" I hear you cry out: "most people would put this as number one on their list of things to see and do in New Zealand". Hence, over-rated. I expected something so unequivocally breathtaking that it would literally take the air from my lungs and momentarily asphyxiate me. But having travelled for so long past mountains, lakes, and countryside unlike any I had experienced before, the spectacle was not as exemplary as I had expected in northern Fiordland.
Now, that's not to say I didn't enjoy my day out, far from it in fact. It was a great day out, and it started at a warm -4°C outside my hostel before the sun had come up. A coach of about 12 of us set out east around Lake Wakatipu and down to Te Anau, stopping along the way to see a bird which the driver helped to raise (apparently one of the oldest in the world of its species, which I can't remember the name of, but it was some sort of parrot). It was great finally arriving at Te Anau. I hadn't eaten breakfast, so it was a relief being able to buy crisps and chocolate to accompany my gourmet sandwich I'd made the night before.

We moved on, stopping at some "mirror lakes" - from all of the fog they weren't very impressive - before heading along black-iced roads through winding glacial valleys, which was exciting. And after a lovely scenic drive we arrive at Milford boat terminal. By chance, Sam and Cat from Rotorua were there as well, and they'd be travelling on the same cruise as me, so that was nice seeing familiar faces and catching up with them. It was a total surprise seeing them again, but at least now I had more than just the crazy Sith Ifricins to take photos of me!
So, we each got a boarding pass, and a "free muffin" pass, and boarded our vessel, the Milford Adventurer. It was cold out on deck, but not as bad as the morning frost had been, I suppose. Our boat pulled away from the dock, and at last we were able to all enjoy the tranquility of Milford Sound. Mitre Peak stood proudly in the cold waters of the Tasman Sea, plunging into the depths below, and we journeyed 16 km out, taking in the peace and tranquility of it all.

Just before we turned back, we came across a pod of dolphins jumping through the gentle waves towards the slowly setting sun. As we came closer, they started being more playful and came right up underneath the bow of the boat, swimming with us for a short way on our return trip. That was cool. All the way back the captain would stop at interesting points, or just for fun, such as underneath a waterfall (which apparently featured in the Wolverine movie), and a small collection of rocks with seals bobbing up and down on them.

At the end I bid farewell to Sam and Cat. They said they'd be at Pinewood the next night, so I expected to see them one last time, but never did unfortunately. And then I got on the bus to go back home.
It was too dark for meaningful commentary by that time, so we watched a movie, River Queen, to Te Anau, and after a brief stop there watched The World's Fastest Indian on the way to Queenstown, a movie starring Anthony Hopkins about a Kiwi who hopes to beat a motorcycle land speed record. It was based on a true story, and was pretty good.

So there we go, Milford Sound was a great day out, but didn't nearly live up to the expectations I had of it. The next day would be slightly different.

The Adventure Capital of the World

Queenstown. OVERRATED. That was my first instinct on arriving. Maybe the lack of money and ski-gear in my luggage provoked intense feelings of jealousy at those who could hit the slopes, or go para-gliding, or bungy-jump from all of the local locations, but I was not a fan of that touristy, commercial, though quaint town off the shores of Lake Wakatipu.
Anyway, before I hit Queenstown, I had a nice bus journey down from Fox Glacier. Our driver was the friendliest yet, and had certain qualities that I've seen in many Kiwis around New Zealand. It was a beautiful drive through the mountains and past large stretches of water. We had several stops along the way; once at a salmon and trout farm where I had a succulent fish sandwich, and later at an enclosed waterfall where we switched drivers for one not quite as jolly or high-spirited. Stopping so frequently meant I got a good chance to actually socialise with the other passengers, some of whom had been on the bus from Nelson to Fox Glacier. Raul, a Cuban-American, was taking a three week vacation from his work; Grace was a Korean-American who had been studying in Melbourne for a year; and Hat-Sun was another Korean (there were a lot) who ended up staying in the room opposite from me when we arrived.
And arrive we did after watching "The Real Middle Earth" and passing a lake from the Narnia films whose name I don't remember, and stopping at Lake Wanaka and Lake Hawea.

My first impression of Pinewood Lodge wasn't great, and I think that's what led me to feel a certain bitterness towards Queenstown. That, and the fact that I did very little on my first day there, but I'll get to that. I arrived in the evening of Sunday, 21st June, and after a quick look around town found my room to be overrun by more people than could accommodate it. Two beds out of four had been taken before I checked-in, and when I returned from my walk, two more people were there. After a little bit of confusion it turns out that one girl simply forgot to book another night before she went snowboarding in the morning, so everything turned out just fine, and I was sharing a room with Will, a skiing instructor, and Michal and Julius, two guys who had been travelling together (though not by choice, it seemed) for a couple of weeks on a Kiwi Adventure Tour, or something like that.
As it turns out, Pinewood Lodge was a decent place, especially as a ski-resort. Many people would come back from the mountains each day and drip-dry their clothing outside, hoping that the frosty air would claim the moisture from it. The only downside, I think, to staying somewhere with so many...brainless (!) winter enthusiasts was that the kitchen was an appalling mess. Dishes stacked so high in the sinks from people not washing up is not cool, but I got over it.

I had my first lie-in for weeks the next morning. It felt so good waking up in the middle of the day, as opposed to at some unholy hour to catch a bus to some far off magical place. I then went to an internet café where I spent five, yes count them, FIVE hours uploading photos to facebook and updating the blog with the last two entries because the connection was so shockingly slow. After I was done being antisocial I went around the corner to Ferg Burger, a burger restaurant which is renowned for its enormous and hearty burgers. For $17 (about £7), I got a huge chunk of meat sandwiched between bread and layers of vegetables, a pack of fries the equivalent of at least two McDonalds large portions, and a drink. Wow was it worth every cent. As I was walking around that evening I bumped into Raul for the last time. I pretty much didn't recognise him; he was wearing so many layers, but we talked for a bit. The next day he was going to be doing what I was doing, so we discussed how exciting it would be, but I always find there's a danger in holding your expectations so high (I'm looking at you, Spider-Man 3 trailer).

Anyway, after our chance encounter I desperately searched for anywhere that sold SD cards and was still open - most places shut early compared to back home; it's just the nature of the level of consumerism there. Eventually I found a pharmacy that sold me one for $35 (RIP-OFF), but I was glad to have bought it, because I was running out of space, and the next day I'd be going on an all day adventure to Milford Sound...

I want to see mountains again, Gandalf. Mountains!

I hadn't really thought what I'd wanted to see in Nelson before I got there, except that I knew the Abel Tasman National Park was just around the corner, and you could explore it either on foot, by kayak, or with a water taxi, from Motueka, Kaiteriteri, or Marahau. Since I didn't have the luxury of money to waste on such extravagances as water taxis, I had to walk, and the closest access point to the park was Marahau. So early on Thursday morning, I got up, made meat and cheese sandwiches, and caught the bus I'd booked the night before to the Abel Tasman.

The area of land that the Park occupies is very mountainous and packed with dense forest, and we could see it from the bus all the way there. Our driver that day was a complete joker. He was part French, and so had very particular views about Nelson (named after Admiral Horatio of Trafalgar fame), and the surrounding townships, such as Richmond, which we drove through. Anyway, we made our way to Marahau, along some fairly precarious and potentially icy roads, and on arrival...just wow.

I've been really lucky with the stunning weather conditions I've had all the way along my journey down the South Island, and that morning, although bracing, was simply beautiful. We landed at a beach with the tide out, and I started my walk across it all the way to Anchorage Bay, a point in the AT about 12km from where I was, which I would have to get to and from within 7 hours.

So I walked the journey, across a beach, through forest paths, constantly ascending and descending following the terrain. I found an iced over pond on the beach, which refused to break despite my best efforts to smash the surface with various logs around the area. It was only when I tried stepping out onto the ice that it chose to splinter and break up. Great. There were some phenomenal views of the beaches all the way along, and the gorgeous turquoise sea that reached out to Fisherman Island, and its bigger brother, Adele Island.

Eventually I made it to Anchorage Bay, and sat down on the frosty sand to have my sandwiches and almond-flavoured Dairy Milk. I wish I'd had the time and money to explore the area more. If you want, you can pitch a tent to stay overnight, or book a bed in any of the huts and lodges throughout the park, and the water looked great for kayaking. There are also seals and penguins further up, but we're talking 20 km north from where I was, and I didn't have that sort of time to get back to the bus.

The walk back was a bit more laborious than I had hoped. I was working against the clock, thinking I'd come too far, and I'd already seen everything once before, but it was nice in the different light of the late afternoon.

Anyway, I got back fine, had noodles and pasta for dinner, and then watched The Bourne Identity, Shaun of the Dead, and Meet the Fockers, before going to bed, ready to get up early for the TEN hour journey to Fox Glacier the next day.

And what a journey. We stopped several times along the way, stopping for longer at Punakaiki, to see some crazily shaped "pancake rocks" and blowholes that didn't blow like they were supposed to, and then Hokitika, a town just short of the mountains of the Western Alps.

We pulled into the "town" of Fox Glacier at sunset, and the driver was kind enough to take me to the door of my hostel. Except, it wasn't really a hostel, more an inn which seemed more suited as a stopover point. It definitely did not cater for backpackers. The showers were a mess; the kitchen was a mess, and only had one knife; but at least I had a dorm room all to myself.

I made sandwiches for myself in the morning again - ham, pastrami, cheese, and apple - and then walked to the Fox Glacier Guiding building around the corner, foolishly not taking my skiing jacket assuming that the idea was to be suited up once there. And I was kind of suited up. I got waterproof trousers, it was just that the fleece and jacket they gave me seemed a bit crap compared to my ski jacket. Oh well. We were given boots, crampons, and thick socks too, and then given a pep talk about what we were going to do that day, before all 16 of us there (three from my hostel) got a bus to the base of the valley where Fox Glacier was located.

We split into two groups of 8. My guide was called Sam, and he had been guiding for just over a year. Apparently they mix it up, so that they get to do the helihikes, ice climbs, or half-day walks, as well as the all-day walks, which I was doing. We started our journey up to a barrier from where we could see the glacier sitting nicely in the valley. The sign there said "Danger, do not cross", but we proceeded anyway, starting across the valley floor from where we could see huge boulders that had rolled down the mountain sides destroying everything in their path, and ended up just short of the terminal face of the glacier. Apparently earlier that morning part of the glacier had broken off, evident from the huge ice chunks on the ground, and the different colour at the breakage point.

After admiring the view from the floor, we moved towards the rainforest on the side of the glacier, and climbed 800 steps through exotic plants, past the worlds largest species of daisy, and along a narrow stairway next to a 300 ft drop, before we reached the ice. Once on the surface of the glacier, we fitted our crampons, and Sam, with his trusty pickaxe, led us off the pre-sculpted trail, and started carving steps through the ice.

It was amazing being out there, amongst a totally new and fresh landscape, working our way around crevasses while Sam kept scouting ahead to find neat new things for us to look at. He occasionally chipped some ice away to fall down what looked like small holes, only to hear the echo several seconds later. He also liked finding moulins, holes in the ice that had been formed by the wind, and that also acted as channels for melt water to flow through. There were a couple which he would get his rope out and explore before letting us work our way down individually to climb into and have a look.

It was fairly spectacular.

After trekking for a couple of hours, we had lunch, and after what seemed like an age, the sun came out, just as we were exploring a moulin that went so deep the ice was green at the bottom of it.

So we made our way around the glacier some more, Sam constantly using his axe as we went. We stumbled upon an ice-climbing group too, and they had such nice crampons. It was hell walking around in the ones we had, just because I wasn't used to them I suppose, but it was still a pain setting your foot down only to wobble on it and have your legs buckle from side to side. But all in all it was fun.

Eventually we had to get off the ice, just because it was almost sunset, and after that point it would be difficult to navigate our way back, whilst the temperature would start dropping to below freezing. It was a great adventure, and spectacular. I don't know what more I can say about it, other than it was an amazing experience.

Wellington to Picton to Nelson

It was nice seeing Caitlin again after the bus journey to Wellington, although having said that, it had been nice seeing Tauranga, Rotorua, and Taupo, at entirely my own pace. At Liz's we feasted meat in front of a nice warm fire, and I met an ewok dog, Sophie, who was the most adorable bundle of fluff ever.

On Monday morning, I awoke to the most gorgeous day. It was just like the day before in Taupo, except that this weather was unusual for Wellington (the norm being lots of wind and rain). Liz took me and Caitlin on a walk through the backstreets into the city. It was exactly the kind of walk I would have done if I had that sort of local knowledge - loved it - and Caitlin and I started off by walking along the waterfront towards Te Papa museum. Such. A. Nice. Day. Wellington was a much nicer city than Auckland too, and had a very distinct Southern European style to it.

Unfortunately the museum was closed when we arrived, so we walked around town a bit to find me some breakfast. Cuba St was a swanky place loaded with fashionable and competitive cafés and restaurants, but was too expensive. Eventually we found a place in the CBD where I had a delicious toastie and apple juice. Yum! After that, we walked back to Te Papa and had a good look around at all of the Maori exhibits, the giant squid, and interesting articles about the first settlers; the relationship between the Maori and New Zealanders seems to be hugely more amicable than that between Australians and Aborigines.

After the museum, we met Liz at the library, and she paid for our lunch, which is always a good thing. Panini and peach melba muffin. Yum again! Liz had a meeting to get to, but told us how to get from Mt Victoria from there, so that's we did next. We wound our way up some stairs and through some streets around a monastery before finally reaching the mountain. It was weird climbing through such forestry so close to the capital city, but that's what Wellington was; houses built into hills, a bit like hobbits I suppose.

So Caitlin and I climbed to the top for a fantastic 360° view of the city, and what a view. A perfect blue sky with sun beating down on the buildings and trees below, and mountains all around. I thought I could see the South Island from where we were, but chances are it was just clouds in the distance. Anyway, we walked back down through the bush paths, and after going the wrong way stumbled upon a sign that said "Lord of the Rings filming location" and an arrow pointing back towards the way we'd just come from.

!!!

So we turned back until we saw a signpost that said "Hobbits Hideaway", and an arrow pointing up a path we passed on the way. So we walked up it, and although I couldn't really make out where exactly the scene ("Get off the road, quick!") had been filmed, the path, and whole mountain had that look to it that was very reminiscent of the scene. Exciting stuff.

After a huge getting lost walk home, we arrived to the most delicious rare steak and a toasty fire again. Lovely. Carys called me at 1 in the morning, which was nice, and when it was time to wake up properly I packed my bags, ready to catch the Interislander ferry across the Cook Strait to the South Island of New Zealand.

Liz's son, Angus, drove Caitlin and me to the terminal where I said a final farewell to her, and then I had to wait a couple of hours in the freezing departure lounge for the ferry, which was delayed. At least I had a steak sandwich and my music for company. After an age I boarded the ferry, a boat with a really nice interior, and we set sail for Picton!

Now, I don't get seasick, but after an hour of watching Mythbusters in a 2-4 metre swell with bad fish and chips in my belly, I was starting to feel unwell. I stood up, a fatal error, and that lurching feeling hit me straight after the weightlessness of the boat bouncing over waves. I ran to the toilet and tried to throw up for 15 minutes, and when nothing came, I went back to a table and spent the remaining 2 hours of the journey lying down, trying to fall asleep. I was too tired to care for the sunset when it arrived, and we passed through Marlborough Sounds in the dark.

It was so nice stepping onto firm ground again, and after a short walk down the road off the ferry, I arrived at my hostel (without going the wrong way for a change). It was a really well kept place, with good rooms, a good kitchen, and a roaring fire. After making myself at home, I had dinner, watched 16 Blocks on TV, and randomly got talking to a woman called Jane for about 2 hours.

Wednesday morning I checked out, and had a good walk around the town. Picton is small, but there were nice views of the mountains and bay from all over. Soon it was time to catch the bus, so I collected my bags from the hostel, and delayed the driver who was expecting me to be at the ferry terminal, but I was at a stop further down the road, which was awkward. Anyway, then I was off to Nelson!

I love that the drivers of the InterCity buses give commentaries as they drive through the various regions, telling us anecdotal history of each town and road we're on. We passed through Blenheim in glorious sunshine, and its miles and miles of vineyards and fruit-growing orchards, past mountains, and fields, and eventually arrived in Nelson, a lovely town that reminded me of home.

The hostel there was easy to find. Was this a new exciting period in my travels where I would start being consistent in finding where I was staying without taking wrong turns all the time? Who knows. It was a nice hostel, and I met some great Welsh and Dutch people at dinner. In the evening I walked around town and booked a bus to Marahau for the next day, before walking to the bay and river, taking loads of photos of the sunset. It was a really pleasant evening.

Geysers and Lakes

My next town was Rotorua (Raw-tor-ooh-ah), famous for it's hot pools and sulphurous smells. The bus driver had a Maori appearance to her, and a really nice gentle voice too - it's from her that I learned the "proper" (though I'm still not certain they're correct) pronounciations of the various place names.

Rotorua was awesome. The weather had continued being fairly un-rainy since leaving Tauranga, and after arriving at the hostel went for a quick walk down the high street to Lake Rotorua, the second largest in New Zealand. So the lake was impressive, but it was cloudy, so everything seemed fairly uninspiring. Having said that, I thought Rotorua was somewhere I'd want to spend more time, despite the smell of rotten eggs from the geysers which are all over town.

My hostel was awesome. The whole town is pretty much powered geothermally, so all the rooms at the hostel were so cosy and warm. There was a hot tub, but no-one used it whilst I was there, and the owner was really friendly and chilled out, letting me know everything there was to do for free, and if I needed anything they'd sort it out, no worries. There were some crazy guests there too:

• A couple of American girls whose names I didn't get, but they were obsessed with The Lord of the Rings. I'd heard about the people who took all three Extended Editions with them to New Zealand, and had the location guides, and had planned to visit Hobbiton, and Edoras, and all those tours, but I never thought I'd see them for real. It was nice being able to unashamedly flex some TLotR knowledge though...
• An American girl called Sharlene, and her Korean friend Tu-Yong, who were both travelling together, almost the same route I was doing around the islands, although spending slightly longer in different towns.
• A Canadian woman called Sam who used to be a teacher at a Special-Ed school, but fled to different countries after breaking up with her boyfriend of 10 years. She was travelling with a girl who studied at Leeds, Cat.

Anyway, I don't remember everyone, but those people were a laugh and good-spirited. My first night in Rotorua I had the room (8-bed dorm) all to myself, so could sniff and cough through a cold without worrying about disturbing anyone.

In the morning the rain was torrential. Delightful. I spent the morning watching The Fellowship of the Ring with the two American nerds, before the rain settled down, and I went on a huge walk out to Old Taupo Road, and then went back towards town through Kuirau Park. The park was amazing, despite the rain. It's filled with hot pools and geysers that gave off a constant warm steam. Sure, they stank, but it was pretty cool seeing the volcanic nature of everything there. So I walked around the park for a bit, then went to the eastern most point of town before walking around a nature trail, and going back to the hostel to bum around some more. It was annoying, because Rotorua is a place I really wanted to see, and the rain just put a damper on everything. Psht.

In the evening I went to see A Film with Me In It, a Dylan Moran film, with Sharlene. It was a black comedy, and I don't think I anticipated how black it would be; with seemingly nice characters being killed off without any emotion, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Still, it was fun.

Aaand my last day in Rotorua it was sunny. Great. So I left Rotorua after getting a couple of photos of the lake under a blue sky, and caught the bus to Taupo (Toe-paw). It was nice that I had the same bus driver as my last journey; I guess she just does that route day after day. The drive was nice and mountainous, and we got some commentary all the way about sites of interest and general history of the surrounding areas.

Taupo was stunning. In a genius move, and the third successive time in a row, I walked the wrong way towards my hostel, but once I was there I met all the Kiwi Experience backpackers in my room, and then went for a walk to enjoy the scenery. Lake Taupo is the largest in New Zealand, and it stretches for miles towards mountains in the south, which on a clear day, you can see, and I had two clear days.

Just to clarify, I was in Rotorua for two nights, and only had one night in Taupo as a stopover towards Wellington, but it was by far my favourite town so far. The weather was perfect, the lake was perfect, and the hostel and town were great. In my room there were six people who had been travelling together or met on the Kiwi Experience bus. Mark (from Leeds) and Ben, met in Sydney; Laura and Jen had known each other for years; and Laura and Lauren, who I didn't really get to know. Anyway, after my walk I returned to the hostel for $5 chilli and rice, and then we all got ready to watch the rugby: All Blacks vs. France.

After the depressing first half (the French scored two tries), we moved on to an Irish Pub to take in the Kiwi atmosphere and watch them lose absolutely. It was great being around a load of merry New Zealanders too; they're really friendly. Even when you're trying to go to the toilet, they're introducing themselves and asking about your travels around the country and your life story. Good times. Most of us got back to the hostel at about midnight, and then at 2 a.m. Laura and Lauren returned off-their-faces and with big piles of McDonalds, and they spend half an hour screaming and generally waking everybody in the hostel up, so I didn't sleep all that much that night - we tried shutting them up, but that provoked them into making more noise.

The next morning I checked out, and then enjoying the stunning clear blue skies, thought I should go on a walk to see as much around the lake as possible before catching the bus later that day. The first stop was McDonalds, where I had a BLT bagel for breakfast. As for my trek, there's not much to say except that I walked from the hostel around to Acacia Bay - approximately two hours there - and enjoyed running around the bush trails and beaches to go as far down the west coast as possible, taking photos as I went. The way back was a bit of a killer. I was getting dehydrated, and the sun was bearing down, and like a moron, I took my ski-jacket with me in case I got cold, so had to tie it around my waist almost immediately giving myself unnecessary extra weight. I was also running against the clock because I didn't want to miss my bus, but without any trouble, I found a less convoluted route and got back in time to say goodbye to everyone before leaving for Wellington.

The drive down to Wellington was incredible. On a double-decker coach, we took a winding road around the east coast of the lake, swinging from side to side as we went, before hitting the Desert Road south, passing Mt Ruapehu in mesmerising mountainous land. After a while we hit fog, and then darkness fell, so I focussed on my music, and drifted in and out of consciousness until our 6 hour journey came to an end. I got off at Wellington railway station, where I met Caitlin again, and her Mum's really close friend, Liz, and we went home to a suburb of the city, Karori. The next two days would be my last with Caitlin until she returns to the UK.

North Island; Second Visit

It was sad leaving Sydney. But hey, I'm now in New Zealand and enjoying jumping from town to town, hostel to hostel. The flight to Auckland was uneventful save for our retarded late passenger. About half an hour before we landed, the girl sitting next to me introduced herself, so I talked with her for the rest of the flight (Caitlin was behind me, and conversation as such is difficult), and once we landed went round the Duty Free to buy a load of spirits and things. This girl, Page, had been working in NSW for 8 months, and was now going home after all that time. It's weird talking to people who have been away for so long; my 2 and a half months will pale in comparison.

Auckland was boring...or uneventful, to say the least. Caitlin and I spent 3 nights with her family friends (Andy and David), and I planned everything I was going to do in New Zealand. We also rented Schindler's List and Pulp Fiction, and had two nights of tears and laughter. Joyful. So, Wednesday 10th we both went to Sky City Coach Terminal and got a bus to Tauranga (Tow-wrong-ah), where, once we arrived, we went our separate ways for the time being.

Caitlin was visiting her Dad's side of the family, and I had now started actually travelling! So I started my travels by walking in the wrong direction to the hostel, but sorted myself out quickly enough. Loft 109 Backpackers was boring, and they charged $2 for sheets, so being a cheapskate come night time I put on lots of layers of clothing and covered myself with a towel. Anyway, we arrived at 11:30 a.m. and given that I had a whole day ahead of me, I thought I'd do the usual thing I've been doing, and walk everywhere. Tauranga has almost nothing to see during the winter, and that day was particularly special because there was literally nothing to see. The rain fell so hard and fast that everything was white. I had to keep taking shelter because I got soaked to my skin in seconds, and when the wind had dried me a little, and the rain stopped pelting down, I'd make a break for it. Eventually I became so used to being a walking sponge that I stopped the shelter lark, and set off for Mt Maunganui, which was a lot further away than I had anticipated.

So I walked across the harbour bridge, got splashed by a thousand cars, and walked through the most uninteresting town I've ever been in; Tauranga is pretty much the only industrial port in New Zealand, so there are factories, warehouses, and a huge port all the way from the town centre to the mountain. Not a fun journey. Arriving at the mountain was nice enough. I stopped at a Burger King just before I decided to climb it, and what a classy joint! It was decorated like a 50s diner, and played old classics to suit the posters and photos on the wall of Elvis, Buddy Holly, Marilyn Monroe, etc. They also did free refills of drinks.

Bargain. Obesity aside, the mountain was pretty cool. I started walking along a path that led to sets of stairs and so on all the way to the summit. The rain had lifted there, but the clouds still lingered, and when I reached the top the view was totally uninspiring. I sat at a bench and dozed off for 5 minutes before a German backpacker called Alex came up to me and said hello. And then the clouds cleared and we had a great view of the town and beaches and it was generally a lovely view across Tauranga and the Pacific. So I took some photos, ran back down the mountain, and got a bus back to the hostel.

After a slightly cold sleep, I checked out in the morning, leaving my bags there, and went for a short walk, and what do you know, it was actually a nice day. I decided to walk south this time, and saw some different mountains, which was nice, but I got bored after a while, so saw Terminator Salvation at a cinema just around the corner. It was a pretty good action film, and the special effects were great. I don't understand which "tender scene" Christian Bale could have freaked out in though...there weren't any scenes worthy enough of his intense concentration and characterisation.

Anyway, Tauranga was a bit lame, though I'm sure the beaches are great in the summer. Apparently it's a big place for surfing, sooo...that's great! I got on an InterCity bus at 3 in the afternoon, and headed for Rotorua. No offence to Tauranga, but it was a bit rubbish.

Sydney with Caitlin, Part 2

On Wednesday 3rd, our original plan was to go on a Captain Cook Coffee Cruise (courtesy of my Mum), but for one reason or another, it was cancelled in the afternoon (we woke up late thanks to our previous night). So, instead of doing the cruise, Caitlin and I went to Manly, something I'd been meaning to do since I arrived.

It was miserable weather again, although by this point Caitlin's sickness had passed, and Manly looked not as glorious as I remember it. It was still amazing being back there, remembering the paved plazas and beautiful beach. We had Barramundi and chips by the sand for $8.90, and again Australian food is yet to be surpassed; normally I hate eating battered fish (no thanks to school), but this was delicious.

When we returned to Circular Quay it was dark, and we got a sighting of something that had been advertised everywhere for the last week: the "Vivid" festival of music, light and ideas. As the ferry came to dock, we saw the Opera House illuminated with amazing green patterns. It was beautiful, and every couple of minutes the pattern changed to something different. Caitlin walked home, but I stayed put and must have taken about 150 different photos of the Opera House. It was just mindblowing; absolutely stunning, and the perfect opportunity to try out my new camera.

Thursday we got up relatively early for the Coffee Cruise, which our commentator kept mentioning was one of the "top five things to do in Sydney". It was actually really interesting, and a great chance to see the furthest reaches of Port Jackson (the collective name for everything through the harbour heads). We went all the way up through Middle Harbour, almost as far as Middle Cove, where I'd stayed a few weeks before, and returned to Darling Harbour before berthing back at Circular Quay. There were free muffins, scones, tea and coffee on the cruise too (hence its name), which I took massive advantage of.

Once back from the cruise, we went around the Art Gallery of NSW, and then the Museum of Contemporary Art (MCA) with a guy named Tom, from the hostel, before heading back for the biggest plate of noodles I've ever had, and then, although totally resigned and ready for sleep, we went out again.

First stop was a pub where beer (delievered in "schooners", slightly less than a pint) was only $3. Three dollars! Very cheap compared to London. We then moved onto a bar where all of the girls got a token for free champagne, and Caitlin somehow managed to get her hands on four...before heading off to a bar on the corner of Oxford St, where again, there was much dancing.

Our original plan was to visit the Blue Mountains the next day, but given how late we woke up and our state of exhaustion, that was no longer an option. So we stayed in until the early afternoon when we went back to Circular Quay one last time where we met Florence and Maggie, and wow they were tanned. I took them on a walk similar to the first days when I showed Caitlin around. We went first to the Opera House, running around taking all sorts of tourtisy photos before moving on through the Royal Botanic Gardens and up to Mrs Macquarie's Chair. We then went back to the RBG and found some cockatoos (which unfortunately, Maggie was terrified of), and Caitlin had some raisins, so...we decided to entice the big Australian parrots into flying all over us. And that was easy. All you had to do was hold out a raisin in your hand and loads of huge, white, sulphur-crested birds would come flying at your from all directions. I had three on me at one point, but eventually the fun had to stop after one bit Caitlin's finger. Naughty cockatoo.

From the RBG we went across to George St, and down to Darling Harbour. Night was settling nicely, and the Harbour was gorgeous with a clear, calm sky, and the lights of the nearby CBD reflected in the water. From there I took everyone up to Observatory Hill Park, where the Vivid light show's advertised "light walk" started. There's a beautiful view of North Sydney and the water from the top of the hill, so more photos ensued, and afterwards we walked through the back streets of the Rocks to the Opera House again, where the light show was in full flow.

At one point Florence and I walked towards the Bridge to a seating area where we could take good photos of both the Bridge and Opera House, but as we were leaning against the rock there, I noticed hundreds of little black lines everywhere. At first I thought nothing of it, until one of the black things moved, so I shined my phone's light onto the rock, and there were little caterpillars EVERYWHERE! We jumped up and rubbed Flof's coat down before returning to Maggie and Caitlin.

Before long we had to bid our friends farewell, and Caitlin and I returned to the hostel for one final night there. I ended up watching TV, and Caitlin tried (unsuccessfully) to go out one last time.

In the morning we said our farewells to new friends, before checking out. It was sad leaving, and I wish I could leave the story there with a nice trip to the airport, but no. We were cutting it slightly fine already, and at King's Cross station had to wait ages for a train. After eventually making it to Central, we switched platforms, and waited 10 minutes on the train there before the driver told us that due to engineering problems we wouldn't be going to the airport. $15 wasted! We ran out to the street to hail a taxi, and after spending an extra $25 finally got to the International Terminal with a safe margin for checking in, but regardless, that sort of stress is unnecessary.

So we checked in, fine. And then our plane was 40 minutes late to arrive thanks to a late departure from New Zealand. So we boarded late, that was fine. And then the plane waited another 20 minutes for one passenger to arrive. And then we left Sydney.