smifterbifter.com - Bifter's World Tour

NOTE: The sections below are compiled from emails sent home by me at the time and have not been edited too much. As such, it all may seem a bit disjointed. At some point I should pad this section out with excerpts from my travel journal. Until then, I'm afraid the emails will have to do.

Christchurch

By the time I had completed my transfer in Brisbane, I had recovered slightly and the subsequent flight from there to Christchurch passed over New Zealand’s south island and some of the most fantastic scenery I have ever seen from the air. The route took the plane over the Southern Alps and then across Canterbury Plains. First thing I noticed was the cold. It was about 27DegC in Cairns and Christchurch appeared to be about Zero. I booked myself into a rather nice single room with heating, Sky TV and a fridge and stuff, which was a nice change from all the dire dorm rooms on the East coast of Oz. I spent three days there, but it was probably 2 days too long as there really was very little to do there. I visited the (admittedly good) museum and went up on a gondola, but that was it. The only thing that really caught my attention was the massive ski ramp erected in the town square for ski and snowboard jumpers. It was part of Christchurch’s Winter Festival and had music and fireworks and the like, but really it only served to fuel my desire to get down south, up a mountain and onto the ski fields near Queenstown. So I went.

Queenstown

The bus journey shot across Cantabury Plains and then wound it's way up through the mountains to the edge of Lake Wakatapu and Queenstown. I booked into the last dorm room left in the town. Every other room was stuffed with uber-cool Japanese snowboarders and their mountains of equipment. The town is ringed by several snow capped mountain ranges, the closest being the Remarkables, of which I had a stupendously good view from my balcony. They are so-called due to the 'remarkable' way they change colour during the day. From Green, to blue, to white, to orange, to pink. After a day of wandering around and going out for a few drinks with people I had met around the place I decided to get into gear and sort out a day up on the slopes. Next morning, I dragged myself out of bed and headed up to the Remarkables ski field. I spent the first 15mins on the nursery slopes checking that I hadn't forgotten how to snowboard and then went up to the top of the mountain and hurtled down for the rest of the day. I had forgotten how much I had enjoyed the sport, even if the occasional fall cracked a few ribs and tore all manner of little-used muscles. Fan-tas-tic.
Ben arrived from Sydney (via Christchurch) later that day and we spent some considerable time in the Loan Star bar. We decided that we would go up to a different mountain for another day on the slopes. This time Cardrona, where Ben discovered that he could still ski after having not done so for 11 years. We carved up the slopes like nobodys business. The snow there was far better than that at the Remarkables, which made snowboarding far easier so I spent less time on my arse. Will be hitting the French Alps in Feb for certain.

I decided against a bungee in favour of keeping my retinas where they currently are, and opted insted for a trip on the famous Shotover Jetboat ride. For about 25 quid you are loaded onto a boat with a specialised water-jet engine with no prop (invented by a Kiwi in the 50's), powered by 2 V8 engines and capable of about 90Kph. This boat is then driven by a certifiable maniac along a narrow rock lined canyon at top speed, occasionally throwing the craft into a barely controlled 360-degree spin. 30 minutes later, soaking wet and freezing cold you are deposited back at the jetty with the option to purchase a photo of the ride in which you, and everybody else in the boat, looks absolutly terrified.

For those of you that know him, a certain Richard Baker turned up in Queenstown the day before we left. So we met up in the Loan Star bar for a few drinks and a reminiss about old-skool dayz. It was good to see him again and a shame to leave after only one evening. But I had by then been in QT for a week and there were more places to go.

Frans Joseph

A 5 hour hop up the coast saw us in the Galcier Town of Frans Joseph. This place was really tiny, having only 2 streets, but if you want to do a trek onto the glacier then it's the only place to be. Did a half day on the ice which was cool, but not half as cool as meeting Kenneth Branagh in the one and only bar in the village. God knows what he was doing there in the middle of nowehere, but he was with some young tart who was all over him. We stayed there to the end in the bar until it was only us and him whereuppon we were thrown out together.

From Frans we undertook a whole day of traveling by minibus and train to get us back to Christchurch. The whole day was spent amongst the most (in so far as I am concerned) beautiful scenery on the planet. Snow capped mountains, jutting straight up from the Pacific, thick temperate rain-forest surrounding the road catagorised the morning bus journey. A stop in the naition park in Panakiaka displayed some fantastic rocky coastal views. The train took us from Greymouth on the trans-alpine path high through the middle of the Southern Alps to Christchurch. New Zealands South Island is most defiantly the most picturesque place I have been on this trip.

Kaikora

After leaving Ben in Christchurch to make his way to South America, I headed to Kaikora, about 3 hours north. It's a small little town that is apparently pretty busy during the summer. Seeing as it was winter during my stay, it was ridiculously quiet. For the first night at the hostel I was the only person there, so I raided the video collection and watched movies all evening. I tried to get myself booked onto a dolphin swimming trip, but the weather was too rough and all the operators had cancelled. So I then tried to get on a quad bike tour, but they wouldn't take me on my own, they required at least 2 people signed up before they went. It was the same story the following day, so I gave up went to the beach, which was quite different from those I had encountered elsewhere on this trip, being stony, cold, ringed by viscous mountains and having huge Pacific waves pounding it. Back at the hostel I had seen all the videos they had to offer (including several Jean-Claude Van Damme offerings) and I decided to leave the South Island and get up North.

Wellington

The crossing from the South to the North island was tres pretty, weaving out of the rugged estuary and across the Cook Straights, chased by a pack of seagulls. Dicky B, who also happened to be in Wellington that day, met me at the ferry terminal and we went out and got hammered in a sports bar. Well I did anyway, he was driving and thus on the cokes. That evening I had a terrible nights kip in the awful Central Backpackers due to the entire place being overrun with Kiwi Experience tossers. For those who aren't aware of this particular breed of 'traveler', they are all patrons of the Kiwi Experience Tour Company, mostly below 20 years old, from Kent, living off Daddies credit card, never go to sleep and think it's hilarious to have shotgun beer drinking contests in my room at 4am. I moved to a new hostel the next morning. This turned out to be far more exciting as it was in the red light district and every time I left the building I was besotted all manner of propositions.

I checked out the seat of the Kiwi government in their funny beehive shaped building, went to a museum of Maori Culture and moved on to...

National Park

My aim was to get another shot at the slopes in New Zealand, this time in the North Island. I had several possible places to choose from: Okhanu - a happening, ski oriented town akin to Queenstown, Taupo - the extreme sports capital of the North Island, or national Park - which looked closest to the ski-fields on the map. However, when the bus pulled into the lay by, that apparently was National Park, and only I got off the packed coach into the pouring rain, I decided that my choice was not one of my best. I should have realised when I noticed that there was not even a map of the place in the Lonely Planet guide book. Anyway, as the bus lurched off into the gloom and left me standing by the side of the road in the downpour, with no idea where my hostel was, I decided to make the most of it. Besides, all the rain probably meant it was snowing on the mountain.

It wasn't. And the mountain had been shut for the last two days due to ill weather, or so the grumpy looking proprietor of Howard’s Lodge informed me. donning my waterproofs, I headed out to explore the town, which was accomplished in 5 minutes after finding both the petrol station and the only cafe. I had a beer there and the barman, seeing as I was the only one in the joint, seemed obliged to talk to me. As the only topic of conversation was how great my Velcro watch strap was, I made the beer disappear very quickly and left.

Next morning the weather cleared a little and the Whakapapa (pron. fuck-a-papa) ski resort opened. So up I went for another day of barley controlled hurtling. The snow was great with tons of powder, but the visibility was diabolical. I suspect that during my entire day there I was only on a piste for about 20 minutes. The rest of the time I was unavoidably off-roading risking life and limb out among the precipices and the powder. A few close encounters with some rocky out-croppings nearly shortened my trip, but I survived unscathed. So. on to...

Turengi

I found myself in a great hostel, the Extreme Backpackers, where I checked out a hot-rod convention, chilled out for the evening, got a good nights sleep and headed off early in the morning to...

Taupo

This place is a bit like Queenstown in the South Island. Lots of stuff to do. Met a few guys from the UK and went out to a place called the Holy Cow and stayed until my pool playing reached an all time low. Finally managed to get booked onto a Quad biking excursion which was wicked. 3 hours of blasting around muddy fields, scaring the crap out of cows and sheep, and through pine forests convinced me that they are the best form of transport ever created. On my last day there I hired a mountain bike and spent a few hours exploring the are around Taupo. I managed to get to some hot springs, some groovy waterfalls and a place called Craters of the Moon, which was a geothermically active area where steam pours out craters in the ground. I was the only person there and the place was pretty alien, definitely worth the visit and the effort of cycling up the 2 mile hill to get there.

Rotorua

Smells like a bit pungent due to the nearby sulfurous exhausts from another geothermal region. I did absolutely nothing of interest whilst there.

Auckland

The capital of the South Pacific. Nice place too. Didn’t do much sightseeing there, just took in the city center and sorted out flights, money and accommodation for Hawaii. I did meet up with an old school friend of Nicky Bell’s (royalblue). Lloydy took me out and we drank a fair few beers in a bar and then back to his house near the beach for continued drinking, pizza eating and playstation (for the first time in 11 months). Other than being assaulted by his deranged dog, it was a fantastic evening.

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