Rest, Recover and Regroup

These are busy times movin' along in Patty. We have only a week left in the South Island and we are filling it with as much as we can sanely do before we drive onto a north-bound ferry on 1 Feb.

We finished the Kepler track and have about 1,000,001 photos for you to process. In the meantime, I will leave you with a taste of the in between time we had after Stewart Island before Fiordland...

While we were on Stewart Island we left our van at a sweet retired couple's home in Bluff, the South Island's southern most city. The woman grew up involved in the NZMCA as her parents had member number 100 something (ours is 48003.) She shared some historical books with us and told us the story of when she "had the privilege to meet the founding members." She told us about the days before dump stations when her dad would just dig a hole for their grey and black water. Nowadays with self containment, NZ caravanners must be more environmentally conscious. These two were such sweet hosts they even let our stinky bodies use their shower after our 3 day mud expedition.

From Bluff we began the journey north. On the way we hit up the last Pac 'n Save we will see for a long time. This is a Kiwi-owned grocery chain we are always happy to find because it boasts the cheapest groceries. Living in a van means you take groceries straight from the cart and put them in the fridge right away.

We stocked up to capacity.

We also took advantage of some down time and nice weather for Alex to learn to drive stick shift. He's a natural. Since he's started I think he's stalled about twice only. I'm impressed with him and happy to have some time in left side seat to look out the windows.

 

We puppy sat this little girl. Her name is "mate" because her Aussie foster father finds it easy that way. Someone abandoned her at the freedom camping spot we were living at and so Dave has taken her in until he moves back to Oz. We fell in love with her and wished we could have kept her. 

Also, we saw our first hedgehog! These guys were introduced to NZ at some point and have established quite a ferrel population. We see many that have been hit along the road, but this one was quite alive scurrying about a sheep field, oblivious to us. If we had approached, it would have curled up in a tiny ball, revealing only its spikes. Our field guide says this protection works well for dogs, but not so much for oncoming traffic. Bummer.

We left our favorite freedom camp outside of Invercargill once again and made for Te Anau and Fiordland National Park. Photos and a descriptions to come when we finish our rapid tour of the west coast of the South Island. 

Mercí beacoup for reading. Especially to Alexandre's family that takes on the challenge my English. Bisous!

Rakiura Track, our Frist Tramp

On Wednesday 9 January, we set sail from Bluff, New Zealand's southernmost and oldest European city, for Stewart Island, the third and southernmost main island. We left Patty the van behind and geared up for two nights in the wilderness.

The ferry to the island crosses the Foveaux straight in the midst of the "roaring forties," a section of sea in the 40-50 degree latitudinal region that is relatively shallow (~30 meters) with no land to break the wind until South America. There are three seas that meet here: the Tasman, the South Pacific, and the Southern Ocean. All this makes this ride is notoriously bumpy. The captain told us it would be a calm morning. We looked outside to see waves 2 meteres high and cringed to think what it would be like on a rough day. I started to feel slightly sea sick and decided to lay down. It was 8 AM and without any coffee yet I was asleep in no time. Alex never felt worse than slightly queasy, but he only tried once to get up to take photos. Almost all of these passengers in the photo were on the trail with us for the next few days. By that night we considered the girl in the front, the couple behind her and the group in the back corner our friends.

We had a quick breakfast in Oban, the island's only city. This place has under 400 permanent residents, all of whom are there for the purposes of conservation or tourism. From there we headed to the trailhead of the Rakiura Track, a 32 kilometer trail with two overnight huts for us to sleep in. 

It rains 265 days a year on Stewart Island. We did not get one of the few 100. We set out with fresh new gaiters to cover our ankles from mud, and at the first sloppy section, we strapped them on...

The first day was 11km to the Port William Hut. A relatively flat, dry start, even with a few sprinkles.

We had a short break near Maori Beach. While I was hunting for sea shells, Alex spotted this oyster catcher family.

It did begin to rain just after we arrived at the hut. It proceeded to rain all night long. Even for Stewart Island, this was a big storm.  Several of us went out that night after dark (11:30pm, when it finally does get dark at this latitude) for kiwi bird spotting. We were completey unsuccessful. The sound of the rain in the forest is so loud that a kiwi could be just next to us snorting in the dirt and we'd never know it. 

There was a group of five kiwi people and one irish woman together on the track. They taught me how to play euchre, a card game I hadn't played since my summer job in 2000. Following that Alex and I taught a German couple and a single Japanese woman how to play Phase 10. We spent many hours in the huts over the two nights playing cards and mixing with cultures this way.

The Huts themselves are awesome. They are kept up by the DOC and rented to trampers to spend the night. Bare bones in terms of amenities, but in our current lifestyle they have it all: running water from giant rain catchers, counter space, tables, benches, candles, clothes lines and even a wood stove. The sleeping is in two big rooms with rows of bunks. 

The second day we hiked 13km up and down a couple of small mountains. We hiked along the beach and through both beech forests and podocarp forests.

A big portion of trail was initially plotted by Maori who used the camps as seasonal homes. Much of the land is owned by Maori today. All along the trail there is historical evidence of saw milling days when this track was used for comercial reasons, such as this steam engine abandoned in the river.

All the rain on that first night made the trail the following day muddy. We came to know just why kiwis call hiking "tramping." The mud adds a feeling of distance to the trek by way of extra gravitational pull into the earth...

By the morning it had cleared up for several hours but started to rain again in the early afternoon. We hiked the last part of the second day in a windy, sunny downpour. We were worn out and very happy to catch a glimpse of the North Arm Hut...

Our final morning we took it easy in the hut knowing we could make it back to town in plenty of time to catch the ferry back to Bluff.

The last day was 11km and ended on the old main road. Almost all the roads in New Zealand feel like "back roads" so this one is aptly named...

We were seriously exhausted by the time we got back to Patty. We will take this week to recover and prepare for the more challenging Kepler track that we have coming up on the 17th.

Be well, everyone! Thanks as always for keeping up with us.