Personal Sun Goddess

Te Anau is not only the hopping off point for Milford
Sound but also our next walk - the Keppler Tramp, one
of he newest great walks specifically created to take
some of the load off of its more famous neighbour.The
Department of Conservation posts the weather reports
for the next few days and as we arrived to pick up our
hut tickets we were greeted with the forecast of rain
and snow down to 800m. What were they smoking, this is
summer. But where did I think I was, this was NZ - I
don't need to say more.

So we began with a gentle walk around the lake and a
climb through the beech forest. This was good because
it meant that the light rain was hardly noticed. And
when Ros and I finally breached the tree line there to
meet us was the blue sky and sun, which lasted just
enough to make it to the hut. And when I say hut -
this place had enough bunk beds for 50 people. So it
was more like a hotel and to be honest it was far
better than some of the ones we had recently
experienced. That night the promised snow arrived,
just enough to give a light powdering of the
hillsides. We awoke to an unexpected gift was how our
new found Israeli friend Ofir described it.

But the snow had meant the rain had gone. So once
again the weather was perfect; Roselin the sun goddess
had prevailed. We followed the spine of the range past
the highest point of Mt Luxmor (a quick sojourn up),
past stunning vistas of lakes and snow capped peaks
until we finally had to drop back down through the
forest and to the valley floor. That night the Keas
put on a show for the camera touting tourists but the
other celebrities, the feathered kiwis, remained
unsurprisingly shy. The hut warden (or should I say
mistress) was an ex-school teacher, which the previous
warden thought, would explain everything. She was big
on rules and not so much into anecdotes.

The next day we opted to stay at the last hut instead
of racing out. It was paid for and it didn't
disappoint. Right on the lake we were able to have a
quick dip. Ok a very quick dip and yes apparently I
did squeal like a girl, but hey I'm for north
Queensland and at least I went in. And we were treated
to a great sunset over the water. Which leaves on the
final day of easy walking and a shortcut to a bus and
out.

The one thing that we have noticed about walking in NZ
is your constant companion the sandfly. Or more
accurately the NZ black fly, which don't care for sand
but do rather fancy the large hot blooded animals that
linger at the edge of the trees and open areas of the
forest. They especially like the blood the courses
through these said animals and don't particularly care
where it has been or even what country its from. In
fact some have thought that they queue up and huts and
bus stops hoping to feast on the international
smorgasbord that is assembled in these spots just
before dark. Maori legend has it that fiordland was
such a magnificent place to be that if the gods hadn't
put the black flies there then no one would leave.
Don't tell Johnny Howard or he might put some our
annexed islands to keep aways the refugees (or is it
the kiwis we should be worried about).

Next was the our trip to Aoraki (Mount Cook). Ros had
been to NZ once before for work and had independently
organised her work mates to go visit her favoured
tourist attraction, Aoraki. Doesn't sound MUCH like
her does it ;) Well it was clouded in at the time so
we had returned to try again. Guess what - it was
raining. We managed a quick tour out onto the glacial
lake and a stroll on an iceberg but that only uses up
so much time. We were holed up in the YHA watching the
convoys of Maui campervans snake as one entity through
the valley of mist and cloud and I had briefly
entertained the thoughts that my personal sun goddess
had lost her potency. Tomorrow we go anyway to
Mueller's hut, but now we live a cliche and watch "The
Fellowship of the Ring".

My faith is Ros has been restores. Or should she be
forever known as Ra-selin. Perhaps is was the long bus
journey and she was weary or she was just foxing. All
I know is that she won't be too welcome at my brothers
properties for quite awhile (or at least until the
drought is broken). The dawn broke with perfectly
clear skies and we were hurrying as fast as we could
before breakfast to get on our way. By the time we had
made it half way up the climb though the cloud had
rolled in. A tramper coming the other way assured us
that we just had to go a little further and we would
get above the cloud and all would be revealed. We
weren't disappointed. We were feeling so good that we
didn't stop at Mueller's hut and we even continued to
the summit of Mt Sefton (Sir Edmund's first summit) so
we had our own little brush with fame. Fortunately for
Ros's fear of heights she was given short legs.
Unfortunately, due to her love of walking, those two
attributes are a distinct disadvantage. But then
someone created walking poles.

All the walks done we slipped down to Banks peninsular
for some RnR to a little hostel that does their best
to overfeed you with home cooked meals. And then of
course it was round two with the new found drinking
buddy Lisa. We arrived just as her share accommodation
dramas were coming to a head and were able to witness
a great little NZ soap opera before we had to leave.

And although we may not have bungied or marveled at
the waterfalls of Milford Sound or even seen any
bubbling mud our NZ adventure is over (for now). We
can only promise to try harder next time.