Year of the Kiwi

 

This last week has been a time of change… where and when it settles, I don’t know yet.

 

 

The day after the glacier hike and lots of internet poker (bought a month of wireless connection that, much to my relief, works at other Internet Access Company hotspots as well, not just at that hostel, which I assumed it would, but wasn’t sure when I bought it and was totally stressed about after I made the purchase, unnecessarily), I took a hike up Alex Knob Track to get another view of the Franz Josef Glacier. Temperate rainforests are cool.

 

 

That’s Judith, who went on the glacier hike as well. She’s standing at a huge hole cut out of a giant fallen tree.

 

 

One of the many types of forests we encountered as we climbed nearly a kilometer in elevation. I won’t posts the other pictures because you’ll get bored of looking at trees.

 

 

We didn’t start our hike early enough, so the afternoon clouds blocked our view, and any desire to reach to summit.

 

 

A blue mushroom. Reminds me of Smurfs.

 

 

A fiddlehead not yet unfurled.

 

 

Early morning fog… very early morning fog. Lake Matheson is one of the most photographed lakes in New Zealand for its stunning reflection of Mount Cook and Mount Tasman. But the best time to be there is at sunrise when the lake is still calm. It took a lot of motivation slapping myself awake at 6 in the morning, driving down to the lake, realizing it takes 20 minutes to walk to the viewpoint, running, stopping to take a pictures of moody landscapes like this, looking at my watch, running faster…

 

 

…but it was worth it.

 

 

 

Mount Cook and Mount Tasman are the two highest peaks in New Zealand. Sir Edmond Hillary conquered these before he conquered Everest.

 

 

And within a half hour… all gone. The clouds rolled in, the ripples rolled in…

 

 

…And the Kiwibus rolled in. Sorry guys, too late.

 

 

High five deadly icefalls! Fox is the other glacier town on the West Coast. But since I already had my amazing glacier experience a couple days earlier, I was content to take a quick look at the glacier and go.

 

 

And there it was, dirty.

 

 

Suzanna and George, a couple Slovakian hitchhikers I picked up in Fox for the drive down to Wanaka. Three hour was too long to be driving alone without a radio signal and epic head music. They were nice people. Only weird thing was that Suzanna never let that bag out of her sight. Even when we stopped for a scenic viewpoint or a bathroom break; always had it on her. A bit disturbing. Never asked what it was.

 

 

 

 

Haast is the last small town in the south of the West Coast. Once we passed Haast and the bridge over Haast Pass, I bid farewell to the fun I had in the past few weeks. Here begins the next chapter in my NZ adventure.

 

 

Where is Charles?

 

 

Driving into Otago.

 

 

 

 

Sunset over the northern end of Lake Wanaka.

 

 

Sunset tipped mountains.

 

 

After a beautiful day’s drive, we finally arrived in Wanaka, a small resort town destined to become the next Queenstown. If you don’t know Queenstown, you’ll get to know Queenstown in my next post.

 

 

OMG… who’s stalking who? Ran into Jana and Katherina again. We shouldn’t even bother saying goodbye to them anymore.

 

 

As small as Wanaka is, it’s much more lively than anywhere along the West Coast. I spent much of my time trying to figure out what my next move will be. I really want to settle in this region for a while to enjoy the nearby national parks and upcoming ski season. The internet didn’t help much as many of the hospitality jobs weren’t hiring until ski season starts in late May. Luckily, there was an ad for some vineyard work in Cromwell. I was hesitant about doing anymore fruit work after the madness of Rakaunui, but I needed money… now.

 

 

After spending a lot of time looking at this map and considering the options, I got in contact with the guy who posted the ad and took the vineyard work in Cromwell. It was only for a week anyway.

 

 

But before driving down to Cromwell, a hike up a hill to get a scenic view of the land surrounding Wanaka.

 

 

 

 

Otago has a different character to it; arid rugged mountain landscapes and sun baked golden color. It’s like living in a Speights ad.

 

 

Hadn’t seen the beautiful colors of autumn since 2006. Admittedly, New England autumns blow this away.

 

 

 

 

Visitors to Cromwell are greeted by giant fruit. Gaudy indeed.

 

 

When I arrived at the vineyard the next day, I was greeted by a guy with a cheery demeanor and his dog. He handed me some snips, and just like that, I was working again.

 

 

That’s Chris, orchard manager and incredibly nice guy. I’m the only person working with him right now as we prepare for grape harvesting in the next few days. It feel more like hanging out than proper work.

 

 

What a life.

 

 

Drove back to Wanaka just for pub poker. I couldn’t resist. That night was quite traumatic (not the poker, made it to the final 2 tables, which was good enough for me). I camped in my car in Wanaka, parking where other camper vans were parked on the lakefront. It seemed alright; it usually is. Deep in the valley of sleep, I was rudely awoken by a loud knocking on the door and a flashlight in my face. “Wanaka City Council! There is no camping allowed within city limits. The police are following behind me. You are subject to a $500 fine if you’re still here in five minutes.” Dazed and confused, I looked at my watch… 5:30AM… fuck. The burly man with the handlebar mustache continued knocking on the dozen other camper vans in the carpark. It felt like being on the wrong end of a drug raid. Guess I’ll be driving back to Cromwell a bit earlier than planned.

 

 

The vineyards of Central Otago are the southernmost vineyards in the world (then again, many things in NZ are probably the southernmost in the world).

 

 

Sweet and juicy pinot noir grapes on the vine. Oops… pruned the wrong one, think I’ll have to eat it.

 

 

My eternal summer has finally come to an end. As I write this, the clouds are dusting the mountain tops of Central Otago with the lightest coating of snow, the trees around me are gold and crimson, and the cold air is biting at my fingertips… but that’s only a taste of the change to come.