I'm drowning down here!

Water, water and more water....liquid, solid and gas, I've had it all and I've just about had enough, but it certainly has it's ups. Mix all this H2O with a huge dollop of extreme sports and you get a typical month in the life of a NZ backpacker.











Glacier Hiking
I last left you all the way in Franz Joseph where I was to experience the joys...and dangers of hiking on the solid variety. After a few words the previous night with a dear friend back in the UK, Rosie, I was left wondering just how "full on" this experience was going to be. Having done the glacier hike a few years ago, it was still fresh in her mind as one of the most amazing experiences she had had in NZ.

Waking up in the morning to the familiar sounds of the rain, it was clear that today we were going to get cold and wet! Loaded with sandwiches and chocolate, we were kitted out from head to toe in waterproof gear which was to prove utterly useless in about half an hour. The most interesting part of the kit was our "talons" : metal spikes that when attached to your boots make one immune to even the wettest of ice.

Still buzzing from my morning capuccino I've got a spring in my step, and I'm ready to take on this ever dripping expanse of frozen water in all it's magnificent glory. Due to the glaciers natural constant re-shaping, our guide Nicki (who is about my height and half my size), spends the day paving our way, creating steps using a huge pick axe with all the power of an All Blacks rugby player. Boys, you would have been utterly shown up! As we jump over crevices wide and deep enough to swallow even the fattest American tourist, im suddenly having flash backs of broken legs and hospitals in Vancouver. Do you think this activity is on the list of my insurance policy?

Seven hours later after crawing through ice caves and doging chunks of falling ice, I'm back on solid ground again. Needless to say, minus the spring as my tired, aching legs and shivering body heaves itself back onto the bus to town. Yes Rosie, you were right, "full on" is a great description, and I agree, what an exhilarating experience and certainly up there on the danger scale. Oh we love kiwi's for their lack of a liability culture, but I was to sign my life away a few more times yet....

Queen of the sea's

Were now right in the North of the South Island, Marlborough Sounds, a beautiful place with seemingly endless inlets and bays, impossible to explore by land. Lucky that one of our party is an experienced sailor, and in the good ol' kiwi fashion we are given control of a large sailing boat without any question of out ability to maneuver the thing, "sweet as"!

The day was going swimmingly, as you can see I was giving Ellen MacArthur a run for her money as I single handedly circumnavigated...urrm, well, not quite the world! Things were really looking up when Thom reeled in a huge blue mackerel for the hungry brood, however someone was not happy. The fish gods were out for revenge and almost instantaneously the heavens opened, and well, didn't close... actually still haven't closed. As sheets of icy rain slapped my face raw, sails firmly down, motor on, we were on a mission. Dreams of roaring fires and cold pints fuelled our determination to reach "dry" land. However, these were rapidly washed away as the reality of mooring at a jetty in low tide with no dingy proved to be a fruitless task. Unless we were going to swim to the pub the beer was staying firmly in the barrel.

Two hours later we finally find a pub with a jetty deep enough for us to moore, and ahhhh a huge log fire. Our "fun" was only just beginning as this glorious vessel was to double up as our bed for the night. Four merry little sailors reluctantly emerge from the the watering hole only to be once again drenched all the way to the boat. Once inside, cozy is not the word i'd use to describe this misery. Scrunched up on a makeshift bed smaller then the average double, our warming bodies mixed with our drenched clothes created a chocking, humid hell hole. The insomnia refused to subside as relentless rain and howling wind battered against the jetty THE ENTIRE NIGHT!

"Tramping" at Mt Doom

Safely across the Tasman sea and into the North Island, it was time to enter LOTR territory in Tongariro. One of the most popular and apparently stunning tramps (which, by the way this is not the sport of drinking cider on park benches, it's NZ speak for hiking) is the infamous Tongariro crossing which takes you up active volcano's, across craters and past stunning volcanic lakes. Now I know you can see where this is going....

Yes it's 6am and heavy fog and drizzle tells me were not going to see too much today. By 8am were on the track and already resembaling drowned rats. There is apparently a volcano in the distance but I sure as hell saw absolutely no evidence of it. 50mins into the hike and two winging Phoms who's self confessed favorite activities are drinking and smoking are already claiming

"I can't climb a mountain"

"I'm cold and wet"

Well we all bloody are, but there's no point complaining every minute. I suddenly feel pangs of guilt about all those times I infuriated my parents with my protests at being dragged up hills in the Peaks as a child.

After I'd shaken off the lagers, I had an amazing time soaking up the bizzar atmosphere of this amazing landscape. The earth was utterly alive as hot stream hissed out of holes in the ground and pungent smells of sulfur filled my nose. Never have I been anywhere so absolutely bursting with energy, while totally arid on the surface. Walking across a huge plateau indented with massive craters, I felt like I was on another planet. I had a great day, despite being literally in a cloud for the majority of it!

Picture not taken on the crossing as you literally could see nothing!

After being totally pampered by my wonderful friends, Francis, Renee and Laurens parents in Napier for 3 days, it was time to get back into backpackerland....

More Extreme Adventures

This is getting rather long so I'll save you the details of the rest of my kiwi adventures, but let's just say, there in nothing comparable to jumping out of a plane at 12,000 ft. I actually can't even cunger up any words to descibe the feeling of pure adrenalin as you are plunged to the earth for 45 seconds of freefall.

I think this is how the story must have gone...

Once upon a time, some bored farmer boys sat in the kitchen drinking a beer, mesmorised by the swirling clothes in the washing machine.

"what do you think it feels like to be in a washing machine?" One said to the other.

"Sweet as I reckon, lets try it"

And just like that, the sport of Zorbing was invented. Simple, quirky and hilariously funny, you (and a couple of mates) are swallowed into the core of a huge inflatable ball filled with warm water. On the count of three you push the thing down a huge hill and slosh around in fits of laughter trying to avoid the multiple limbs threatening to take out your gnashers. Oh you kiwi's have done it again!

A sad day as I have to say bye to my dear friend Ian whom I've been traveling on and off with sinse Thailand. Out with a bang though as we absailed, tubed and rockclimbed in the amazing Waitomo caves. With the high water level from all that rain, I was almost a goner as the strong current dragged me into the dark bowels of the cave. However, the even stronger instructor rescued me (much to my delight) and another fantastic day had in a country with seemingly endless opportunities to dice with death.

Ahhhh now back to the civilization of Aukland. My heart rate has leveled and guess what.....? it's raining, but the internet is cheap!