Kaikora, seals and whales (and vomit)

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 Up stupidly early again. Rob was playing the perfect host and using us as an excuse to to things he’d not gotten around to doing yet. Today’s plan was to head north back to Kaikora and go whale-spotting. It’s about a 2-hour drive to get there and seats on the boats have to be booked in advance. Also, as it’s winter, there are fewer boats per day.

We managed to get on the 13:15 boat (we were aiming for the 10:15, hence getting up at 6:30) so things were less hectic than they needed to be. Again, the weather was sucky but at least there was visibility. We took off and Rob roller-coastered us up the windy roads, giggling like a schoolgirl every time we squealed (or was that the tyres?).

As we’d been there before, we settled on the bakery for lunch and had mince pies again. With cakes. And drove along the coast a little to a seal sanctuary that Rob knew about. This doesn’t seem to be mentioned anywhere in the guidebooks and it’s free as it’s basically just a car park on the water’s edge. Seals pop up to snooze at all hours and we encountered half a dozen or so.

Most were splayed out on the rocks, but two were acting very strangely. They seemed to be doing Stevie Wonder impressions, staring at the sky and gyrating at the hips. I checked carefully, but neither was wearing an iPod. They did have long whickers, though, so maybe they were related to the tramp in Wellington.

We took far too many photographs from far too close for it to be safe (seals have big teeth and can get a little tetchy when disturbed) then drove back through the town to the whale watching pickup point. Even the speed bump as we entered the car park was shaped like a sperm whale.

A quick queue for tickets and a warning that the weather today was somewhat condusive to sea-sickness and we sat for a while to await the bus. We’d also been told that there were no dolphins in evidence today, but that whales were definitely making appearances. A shame, but animals are seasonal and it is getting nippy over here.

The short bus ride took us to the jetty where we boarded a catamaran for the 2-hour trip. Again, we were warned about motion sickness and I spotted around 10 sickbags in the seat pouch in front of me. Who on earth could get that sick? Then I remembered how large the servings are in most of the restaurants over here, so providing overflow baggies probably isn’t such a bad idea.

During the initial ride out, we were shown some computer generated footage of some of the whales and regaled with facts about the creatures. The ones mainly in attendance around Kaikora are sperm whales, nature’s deepest divers. They regularly dive for 1-2 hours at a time and can go as far down as 3000 metres.

After perhaps 40 minutes, we pulled up in an area where a whale had been spotted some time earlier. The captain dropped what amounted to a large electronic hearing trumpet into the water and we waited. Then we sped off again.

This was repeated for a while until the right sounds were heard and a whale sighted. The doors were opened and everyone plunged out onto the sides, cameras in hand.

 I’ll be honest – it’s a little unimpressive. Only, though, because the whale is so far away it’s hard to judge its exact size. Like icebergs, only a small part of their body is ever on show at one time. Usually you see roughly 20% of it, and most of that is its back.

Still, to be close to one of the largest creatures on earth is humbling. It’s just a shame you can’t really get any closer, but safety does play a huge factor. We did see a video later on from one of the earliest trips out, not long after the company started operating. One whale got very curious and swam right up to the boat, running right alongside it. The boat wasn’t too happy about this – it was effectively being beached – and since then I don’t think they’ve ever got quite so close to the animals.

Only a minute or so after we arrived, the whale started to undulate in a particular way and then dived beneath the surface, his tail pointing skywards before slipping underwater.

We were shepherded back indoors, and the boat roared off to another site. And another. And another. Before we got to see our second whale of the day. This one stayed on the surface for longer then the first and we had plenty of time to take many pictures. Admittedly, they all look like a rock in the middle of the ocean (except for the ones of the tail at the end), but it proves I saw a whale!

 More chasing ensued, including one stop where the whale dived just as we left our seats, but that was our whale allotment for the day. As an added bonus, I lost a little weight by making full use of one of the waterproof paper bags in front of me. Very Berry smoothie does not taste as nice on the way up as the way down. Especially when mixed with minced beef. Needless to say, I got lots of sympathy from Louise and Rob. Not.

Frankly, I was glad to get back to dry land again. I confess I’d still like another go at whalewatching, perhaps at a warmer time of year. Calmer and warmer waters may make the trip more comfortable and more fruitful in terms of creatures seen. Still, I’ve got my own personal pictures of a whale diving and I’m damn glad I went. Even if my stomach rebelled.

We had dinner in a stonegrill restaurant in the town centre (by which I mean the street with most shops on). My stomach felt better with some chicken and chips inside and Rob foolishly gave me the car keys to drive home. OK, not so foolishly as I’d had orange juice and he’d had beer.

The thing with cars in New Zealand is they’re so damn cheap compared to the UK. I’d say even brand new ones can be as little as a third of the comparitive price back home. There’s a massive market in good quality second hand vehicles as well, and until the petrol prices went up recently, the average Kiwi drove something with a 2.5l engine.

It’s also legal to drive at 15 (it’s 17 in the UK) and insurance is purely a voluntary purchase. As a result, insurance is cheaper than back home (which is a good thing) and you have 15 year olds in Subaru Imprezas wrapping themselves round trees (not so good). As an aside, Kiwis can’t pronounce Subaru Impreza. Either of the two words. Even in the TV adverts. But I’ll forgive anyone who’ll sell me a brand new one for £7500.

The drive home was fun until we realised that everyone who owned a petrol station had gone to the pub and we were driving on fumes. Economy drive mode was activated, which basically meant keeping a steady 80kmh and going down hills in neutral.

Finally, about 50km from Christchurch, we found a garage with the usual friendly staff where we filled ‘er up. Another curiosity, compared to the UK, is the way fuel’s dispensed. About one in ten of the stations I’ve seen have someone there to fill up for you. When you do it manually, you have to tell the pump what you want to do first – fill up until you’ve decided you’ve put enough in (i.e. pretty much what we do in the UK), or you can enter a dollar amount and just pull on the handle. The pump will stop itself when you’ve spent that amount.

Safely back at Chez Dickinson, we bedded down for the night. Tomorrow we had no real plans, and Pam was still sniffly so we actually had a lie in to look forward to! Posted by Picasa

Frighteners country

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 Lou’s dad lived in New Zealand back in the 1950’s and spent a lot of time in a place called Lyttelton. It’s about 8km south of Sumner and also where Peter Jackson filmed large parts of The Frighteners. So for historical and fanboy reasons, we jumped in the car with Rob and drove over the winding passes (one of three routes) to the township.

Lyttelton is also a major docking town, handling an enormous amount of imported cargo. You can watch the docks working from one of the viewing points. Also in sight are many anti-aircraft bunkers left over from the war. The photos I took weren’t as good as they could have been as it’s winter over here and as a result rather foggy and damp. Still, there’s no denying that the hills and mountains are impressive.

Like Sumner, most of the housing in Lyttelton is built on a really steep hill. Thankfully, Rob’s got a Subaru with 4-wheel drive and low gear ratios so we didn’t make too much noise crawling up them to the first graveyard we found. There was a reason for heading here – we were fairly certain this was the one used in the aforementioned film.

 None of us had watched The Frighteners for a while, but it seemed right. The other graveyard was some distance away and, although where we stood wasn’t exactly as it appeared on DVD, it did ring vague film geek bells. It also made for some very nice photos.

There’s not a whole heck of a lot to do in Lyttelton, so we did the next thing we could do and got some lunch. Any foodery with cats is a good one and this one had one, which walked round our ankles as we ate sandwiches and very nice cake. The little fella also took our attention away from the grey drizzle outside into which we once again ventured to drive through the road tunnel into Christchurch.

With it being a Friday, the town was rather quiet and the weather would have been keeping anyone else at home. On the way into the centre, we spotted a building on the left advertising “glow in the dark mini golf”. I am turning into a mini golf addict. And I managed to convince Lou and Rob that this would be a great idea.

It was.

The mini golf was one exhibit in a science park, predominantly geared at kids. However, with it being a school day all the kids were elsewhere so we had the place to ourselves. Entry was only NZ$15 each including one game of golf. At these prices people can afford to take their kids out for an afternoon.

Before we even got to the golf, we played with pulleys, demolished people at air hockey (that is, I won both games), played an electronic harp with no strings, messed with air pressure and odd-shaped cams, wished we could play on the climbing wall and reminisced about vertical slides at Flamingo Land that were bigger than the one on display.

 Finally, Lou and Rob dragged me downstairs into the basement where the golf (and some other exhibits) lived. The golf was superb. Everything was lit with black lights and glowed like a scene from TRON, only with the chance of Tiger Woods popping out from behind the loop-the-loop on the 16th to save the day for humankind. Hey, if Will Smith can do it with a virus on a dodgy Apple laptop, it’s not that unbelievable.

Lou won the golf (just), but we had a great hour playing it. There was enough time left to go for a wander around the Hubble photo gallery and be amazed with the images. On the way out, a very small child was climbing the stairs to the top of the slide with his mother. He lay down face first and poked his head over the edge, eyes wide. Then came back down the steps. I guess even Kiwis have to start somewhere. He’ll be canyon jumping by the time he’s a teenager.

 We went for the easy option for dinner – chip shop. Kiwis supply pretty much any type of food on demand, much like the UK. Their chocolate, however, is crap. This is partially made up for by the ready availability of good chips and HP Sauce.

Just to check our film references, it was necessary to re-watch Mr Jackon’s early classic and the graveyard we’d been in was indeed the one from the film. Somehow it looked better on the telly than in my photos, but I’m prod to say I’ve visited the south island and not been to a single Lord of the Rings film location. I’m a real geek. I went for one of his earlier films! Posted by Picasa

Over the sea to… Picton

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 A lot of travelling today, but not a lot else to be honest. The shuttle to the ferry left at 7:00, so we were up at 6am to check that we’d packed everything and wander down to the pickup point. As ever, Lou was wrapped up to the nines. I was wearing a t-shirt. The neon sign over the road advertised a balmy 2 degrees. Bloody southerners.

The bus driver was actually cheerful (a common trait amongst staff of any type in New Zealand) and we were at the ferry terminal within 20 minutes. The weather looked quite good for a crossing – cold and frosty but very little wind. There was even a lovely rainbow over the hills of Wellington as we boarded.

Unusually for a ferry crossing, we had to check our baggage in. Frankly, this is a great idea as it saves passengers lugging huge suitcases around on board and clogging up the aisles with the things.

The on-board cinema wasn’t actually on-board yet which was a shame as the crossing’s three hours. Lou spent about an hour on the phone to a friend of her’s who’s just got engaged, leaving me with just my laptop for company. As a result, I spent most of the trip typing up blog posts in the recliner lounge with a quick trip to the upper deck for some photos.

 We arrived in Picton around lunchtime and collected our second rental car. This time a Mazda and another flipping automatic. At least this one had some poke and could actually overtake on an incline. A good job as well as virtually all the passing lanes on SH1 are on hills.

Lunch was a mince pie (the meat variety) and far too much chocolate in Kaikora. This is a teeny coastal town about 3/4 of the way to Christchurch. It’s the wrong time of year for it, but you can swim with dolphins and seals here, or go whale-watching. We settled for wandering round a supermarket and trying not to get gravy on the upholstery.

We finally got to Christchurch at about 6pm and encountered the weirdest thing: traffic. I reckon we passed a dozen cars on the 250km journey from Picton and then all hell broke loose as we approached the first major city on the south island. Actually, make that the only major city on the south island.

Pam & Rob’s house was very easy to find, up in the hills overlooking the bay in Sumner. I’ve not seen them since a few months before they left the UK last year and it was lovely to get the chance to pop by. Their house is fab and a slight step up from pretty much everywhere I’ve stayed since I left the UK myself!

Any house with cats is a good one and this one has three. We settled in, chilled out and were tken out to a pub in the town centre for food. Rob met up with a few of his workmates who ridiculed his advancing age and we forced ourselves to drink beer and wine while eating some rather nice food.

Back at the house, we crashed fairly early after making plans for the next few days. Unfortunately, Pam was coming down with an evil cold having just shifted another one, so had to put “bed and hot water bottle” on her activity list. Posted by Picasa

Wellington

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Our last day on the North Island and half of it was spent in cybercafes changing plans. Lou had received a phone call from her cousin in Thailand asking her if she could do some work for 3 days. In Qatar. At the start of June.

Lou required money, Joy required a favour and as a result we required some nice people at Backpacker Campervan Rentals and Singapore Airlines. By Jove, we got them. Van hire and my flights back to Hanoi both changed, in minutes, at no cost. Wow.

Flights from Christchurch to Auckland and back (and back up again after we dropped the van off) all booked for pretty low prices as well.

The dates worked out OK as it means we won’t be imposing on Pam and Rob’s hospitality for longer than previously arranged. Plus there’s mroe chance of snow in the south island by the time we return so better snowboarding!

Once we got all that lot sorted, we headed for the Te Papa museum. As well as their usual exhibits on Maori and imigrant history, geology and the like they were hosting a second appearance of the Lord of the Rings movie exhibition. The museum itself is free, while this was an NZ$12 fee (reduced to NZ$10 with my YHA card – paid for itself many times over already!). Definitely worth the time and the money if you liked the film.

It’s a simple exhibit with a display stand for each major character and race, plus a couple for some of the set pieces and effects. The walls are hung with examples of concept art and each stand has a tv with a handful of short films you can choose from to view about the exhibit. I’m sure the films are on the extended DVDs but it’s fascinating to watch them next to the actual props they’re describing.

Sadly, no photos are allowed inside the museum so I can only tell you how impressive it all was. I’m not mad into costumes, but the silicone model of Sean Bean as Boromir lying in his funeral boat was incredibly lifelike. I almost expected him to jump out and berate me for wearing a Newcastle shirt instead of a Sheffield United one.

Also taking the breath away were the handcrafted models of Minas Tirith and Sauron’s Tower. I really wish I could have taken pictures of these. Oh, and the enormous cave troll bursting through the wooden doors.

OK, so it was touristy and not much to do with New Zealand but it was a very enjoyable hour or so wandering around. We didn’t have much time to plough round the rest of the museum, but what we did see was very good indeed. Many of the exhibits are accompanied by “hands-on” touch-screen TV games and activites for kids (and even separate rooms set out purely for them) making it ideal for families and school classes. Indeed, there were at least two classes of schoolkids there at the same time as us.

Wellington is also home to the most “with-it” tramp I have seen. A drunken old guy, collapsed in a shop doorway, beard down to his knees and an iPod in his left hand, held high as he bopped away. What he was dancing to, I’ll never know. He had a cheesy grin on his face (I think – there was a lot of hair there) so I assume it was something cheerful. If it turned out to be a nazi death march album, I’d have been somewhat concerned.

Our “sightseeing” done, we walked back to the hotel for dinner. Wednesday nights are quite cheap at the Cambridge. If you spend more than NZ$5 per head on booze (buy a jug of beer and you’re there), you get a voucher for the barbequeue. So dinner for two, including silly amounts of Speights, cost us around NZ$15. A fiver. For two people.

A pub quiz followed at 8:00, but required teams of 4 people and we were friendless. Instead, we took the less sociable (and probably cheaper due to lack of bar) option of visiting the cinema and seeing X-Men 3.

With the early rise required for our ferry the next morning, we packed as soon as we got back and crashed out. Alarms set for 6:30am.

And here’s me thinking holidays were relaxing.

120mph… without a motor

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This morning began gently enough with a stroll along what passes for a beach in Taupo. In fairness, it it a lake that we’re next to (the largest in New Zealand) and not the sea so it can be forgiven for not having miles of golden sands. We had breakfast at a lovely café (I had beans on toast – I’m really making up for the weeks in Asia without them) and bought packed sandwiches for lunch.

On the walk we encountered two particularly New Zealand examples of wildlife. The first was the “friendly domestic cat”. Unlike the UK where cats routinely have stones thrown at them by pathetic teenagers, the ones here always seem to love people. They also all seem to be built like little furry brick outhouses. This one was also unusual in that she was pure white from top to tail, and followed us for a good hundred yards, collapsing on the pavement at regular intervals to have her belly rubbed.

The second animal was the Tui – one of the national birds, alongside the Kiwi. The Tui is like a small blackbird with white puffs under each eye and the most bizarre song I’ve ever heard. It’s like someone’s got R2D2 drunk (possibly on the bird’s own-brand beer). It’s also akin to those annoying car alarms that rattle off umpteen different klaxon one after the other. Tweettweetwibblewibblebeepbeephoothootfaaaarrrrrt.

Now for reasons which will become clear very shortly, I’d spent the night praying for thunderstorms today. Anything involving massive cloud cover and the inability for aircraft to take off. Instead, I was lumbered with bright sunshine and clear skies. Further proof of the non-existance of god, or at least that he/she/it/them really has it in for me.

I didn’t want nice skies because I’d booked a sky dive for just after lunch and was looking for any excuse to get out of it. It turns out that Taupo’s about the cheapest place ever if you want a one-way trip in an aeroplane (i.e. up and not bothering with the landing bit). Lou had done a jump at Lake Waneka as she’d been told it was cheaper than Queenstown. Taupo was around 1/2 to 2/3 of the price, and included a t-shirt in one of the best packages.

At 12:30, I called the company (Taupo Tandem Skydiving) who inevitably confirmed that the skies were perfect and that my jump was on. My cunning ploy of taking a different road and therefore missing the airport failed – there’s only one road south out of Taupo and it goes past the damn thing. So we ended up there, signing things that said “It’s very difficult to sue anyone in New Zealand so if you die you’re pretty much stuffed”.

Good news is that on the weigh-in I found out I’m back to 75kg. By the time we took off, I think I’d been to the loo three times and I was nearer 70kg. I thought I looked rather natty in my jumpsuit, and it hid the stench (and stains) of panic rather well. We watched a safety video which made everything look so easy, got strapped into something that looked majorly kinky and wasn’t the least bit comfortable, and stood around like lemons for an hour waiting for our flight to arrive. It felt like five minutes.

Ever wondered what the condemned man feels like, walking to the gallows? Well, remove the safety harness and funky jumpsuit and that’s pretty much what was going through my mind. Patrik was my “buddy” for the jump and would have to put up with me strapped to his chest, screaming like a loon for about 45 seconds. I hoped he could cope without getting sick of me and letting go.

I’d opted for the 12,000 foot jump. The other alternative is 15,000 feet but I’d been told you need oxygen masks for the extra height and therefore my face would be obscured on any photos. Turns out this isn’t actually the case, but it’s too late now. We loaded up in the plane sat along two padded benches, backs pressed against our experienced (so we were told) skydivers and the door rolled shut. The propeller kicked in and the plane began to roll. Backwards. Well, actually, it didn’t. I just thought it had as I’ve never been facing the tail of a plane as it’s taken off before.

Patrik was superb. He explained everything on the way up; roughly how long each section of the procedure would take, what to expect, how to position myself and so on. Every couple of thousand feet he gave me an update and a reminder, prompting me to put on my helmet and goggles as we neared the 12,000 mark.

All of a sudden, the door opened. And hit me on the head. Great start. Thankfully only a glancing blow as it was a rolling door, not the usual huge airlock things you get on airliners. The first pair shuffled forwards they’re mad! to the edge of the doorway they can’t do that! It’s nuts! looked at the departure camera for a quick photo and vanished where’s the ground? They’re going to die!

Then it was my turn. I think at this point, my brain found somewhere safe to nestle near the pit of my stomach (itself relocating just underneath my Adam’s apple). Patrik shuffled us forward and I had no choice, damning the lack of friction on the seats, until I was perched on the ledge, feet dangling in the slipstream. Another nutcase in a yellow suit was stood to my left on the outside of the aeroplane filming my last minutes on this mortal coil.

I stared at the camera.

I tried to look cool.

I failed dismally.

The camera flashed.

We leapt.

For those who didn’t do physics, some figures for you. A falling object accelerates at 9.8 metres per second per second (or roughly 35km per hour per second) until reaching terminal velocity, at which point it’s going as fast as it possibly can within the Earth’s atmosphere. This terminal velocity is around 200km/h or 120mph. So essentially within 6 seconds of leaving that plane, I was going almost as fast as I’ve ever driven in a car. Only downwards. Strapped to a Swede with a silly beard.

Funnily enough, these numbers weren’t whizzing through my head as we sped earthwards.

The most coherent thought was “Best hundred pounds I have ever spent in my life.”

Once past the initial cries to every deity I’d ever heard of, the sheer rush blew every cobweb out of my system and opened all my senses to the utter madness of what was happening. It’s difficult to comprehend the speed you’re hurtling earthwards at as you have no point of reference. There are no crash barriers blurring to your sides, or anything in front for you to hurtle towards except the big green sphere which is so far away you can’t really tell that it’s getting closer.

All you can get your head around is the wind rushing past and the unutterably mind-boggling sense of speed. During all this, Patric was spinning me round in circles while the madman with the camera was lying on his back, capturing every expletive and whoop of joy as I hurtled towards the ground like a dragonfly playing chicken with a truck windscreen.

However, I had one up on the dragonfly. A Swede who proved to be slightly less insane than he had so far appeared by releasing a parachute at 3000 feet (or was it 5000? I confess I frankly didn’t give a hoot at the time) to slow our descent. The jerk was sudden but gentle, and Patric loosened a couple of the harness straps for me so we didn’t become too intimate on the float downwards.

We swooped, we whirled, dived and pirouetted. The view was utterly beautiful. I have never seen the earth from that angle before and it’s astounding how much you appreciate it with no aeroplane window between you and it. Then all too soon (except for my legs which were getting pins and needles) got to say “hello” to the grass again with the smoothest of landings.

I cannot remember ever having such a huge grin on my face. It took me two days to brush all the flies out of my teeth.

Back at the hangar, we checked out our exit photos and I declined mine as, frankly, I looked a prat on it. The video, though, is superb and will be treasured. Sadly, the CD full of photos I got was the wrong one (I’ve got 30 pictures of a very scared looking Irish girl instead) so I’m waiting for the correct one to be posted to me.

Bag of goodies in hand and donning my new t-shirt (“unbelievable the experience of a lifetime you have GOT to do it tandem skydiving in lake taupo new zealand i jumped out of that plane WHOAH!! AWESOME, what a rush”) immediately, I leapt heroically like a man reborn in to our crappy little car. Then sat and ate BLT sarnies.

Hey, I’m just a bloke at heart.

The rest of the day was just driving to Wellington (5 hours) then getting dinner in a Chinese for approximately nothing each. I won’t bore you. It all sucked compared to the skydive anyway.

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