White Noise:

Background noise: I have been to Tamatea. Its amazing. There is no internet or ph or anything so I have been writing and photographing but couldn’t post. Then it was “go home stay home” so now I am stuck in Queenstown. So I am going to post the stories each day and once again live in the moment. I also think you can comment now if you are subscribed so hope to hear form you.

Tamatea – Dusky Sound.

(Saturday 14th)

I  have spent days stressing. Worrying. Wondering.

Despite my history and career choices I have never been a good sailor.  I try to be .  Real hard .  But to those you who say its mind over matter, I say feck off.    It maybe many things; inner ear, balance, even eyesight and brain connection but it is definitely a state of reality and not a matter that can be controlled by my mind.  

The swell map reads red, (by the way that’s bad). The boating forecast map reads 1 (by the way the scale is 1 -10 and ten is good.) So you get the picture.    I buy my sea legs plus some ginger lollies plus some miracle herbal snake man medicine.  Got to be good for you and here I am. In my cabin on a small vessel in Tamatea – or Dusky sound

Fiordland Discovery

First to be discussed is the helicopter flight in.  I have done a few and have always enjoyed the view and the experience.   The only one which I felt on edge was on my 50th when we did one to the Daintree mountains and then out to the Great Barrier Reef and as we went to the Daintree it was misty and cloudy and hit a few bumps and I certainly did not like the experience of turbulence in a helicopter.  Now I have a new experience of helicoptering up the valleys towering above following the lakes arm, in the sleet and then up and over the mountain range in the the snow and mist and in the moments when I did open my eyes up there it was very spectacular but for me the majority of it was still best viewed with my eyes closed and breathing 4 in 4 out..

The helicopter lands on the vessel and the smiling group who was before us begins their journey out with cheery waves of hi and goodbye and comments of what a great time we will all have. On arrival we make our way to our cabin sunk low on the vessel, with large windows out onto the water and we settle in.

TAMATEA – DUSKY SOUND

There are 17 of us here and we are here to do a photography workshop.  I am an imposter with my little Olympus mirrorless camera.  They talk about what lens to use for what whilst I have only just learned how to take mine off the manual settings and get a good depth of field (I know fancy right). At least WH can say he hasn’t a clue but I wish he would refrain from saying “no my wife is the photographer” as it may be the case in his company but right here right now its feels like a lie. 

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 I am here though, in this incredibly stunning place and I aim to make the most of it.  I will name drop some other fancy photography terms by the end of the week and my aim, beside not getting horribly seasick, is to be better at by the time we get off.  

We meander up the sound  which is technically a Fjord and we learn the difference.  A fiord is glacier carved and a sound (technically Sund) is a safe haven.  So technically we meander up the fjord but with red and ones outside the entrance the Sund sounds perfect.   

We anchor a a great little bay which I have already forgotten the name of and we  tender up to the edge of the sound.   The native bush is jurassic looking.  Its dense and wet.  It has depth and texture.  I hope I can capture it on my camera.

We are told the tannin in the water washing down from the mountains means the first metre or so is fresh and then it turns to salt.  One of the guys cups his hand and takes a handful concurring that our trusty, skipper come tender driver come tour guide was indeed correct.  

I think the strongest feeling of the day is that Maori named this magnificent place  “Atawhenua – shadow land” and it is so apt.  My wish is to capture that “Atawhenua” as the shadows run back into the horizon in layers that are quite spectacular.

Atawhenua

We finish the day with a meal of fresh crayfish and salad followed by a delightful dessert of some sort of sorbet with beautiful bits added and a couple of glasses of easy to drink red wine.  Its hard to believe the trepidation I felt this morning was real as this place relaxes the mind and eases strokes the soul.

Wanderlust – “the lust or desire to wander”

It takes a while to back into the travel reality as I am so focused on washing hands, wearing masks, not touching anything. The wanderlust I usually experience is dulled and my safety senses are confused as I no longer want to hold the handrail when going down the stairs and everything around me takes on a slightly seedy edge. I remind myself that here in Queensland there its no Covid, just like home yet still it takes a while to relax into being somewhere new and doing the things that you do when travelling.

We head into a little restaurant that we have passed many times but I have never managed to drag WH in. Its sort of Boho looking and its custom seems to consist of young people with pony tails pulled up high over shaved heads underneath. It has a full page of Vegan menu with WH real food on the other side. I nearly lose the opportunity when the waitress says the tables we are eyeing are reserved. “you can sit at the bar though” she says and I am on a stool.

We peruse the menu but have to turn the torch on our phone on as the ambience may be nice but the old eyes can’t read the menu. It has an Italian slant with lots of pastas and bruschetta, got to be good for you. Loaded bruschetta is their speciality.

We order a scallop thing to share and then WH orders a spaghetti and myself brown butter pasta bows, I repeat got to be good for you. We sit watching the trendy cocktails being made and strike up a conversation with the women sitting alone next to us at the bar. She is in her 80’s and lives in an apartment down the road and is a regular. She is eating what WH has ordered and informs its one of her favourites so he is pleased.

We talk across the bar. She lives alone. She doesn’t mind. She eats out regularly. She gives us some new places to go. She talks we listen, we talk she listens. Our entree to share arrives and after some WH persuasion she shares it with us. She hasn’t had that one before. I guess its hard to order an entree to share when you eat alone. It’s delicious.

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Her husband has been gone a long time now and she has been in an apartment for 11 years. We swap stories of apartment living and the best way to avoid those who need to be avoided. We connect over the grumpy ones, the drama queens and kings, the world is full of different people who are the same. We talk of travelling the world when we could travel. We talk of places we have seen and dream of what is left to see. She gives us some new places to go.

Our mains arrive and she says she should go. She thanks us for the conversation and the company. We thank her for hers.

We eat our brown butter pasta bows and spaghetti and its delicious.

Just like that my wanderlust has returned: new places, new people, same but different.

And we are here

And we were here blogging about it five days later. I am afraid to say Travel blogging is sort of annoying when you aren’t that techno savvy and it all goes to pieces. It really is in the realm now of, to blog or not to blog? Its a great way to keep in touch with whanau and friends when travelling, I love reading its pages in retrospect and in the days of travel freedom I used it all the time to remember tips and treats to pass on to those who asked. Perhaps I should take the time to learn more about how it all works I think but then I think of all the things I want to learn and and it falls well short of the top five.

Top five things to learn

  1. to speak Te Reo
  2. to bake Cindy’s lemon cake ( and it be scrumptious)
  3. How to plant a Japanese themed garden at the beach(not even sure if that is a good idea)
  4. to plank at Pilates(at least for longer than 10 seconds)
  5. be calm, almost zen in fact, in the face of technical travel blogging issues.

As you can see until I can remotely get down to number five then it really is a waste of time going through the motions of pretending to want to know how it works behind the scenes in the secret maze of connections and caches.

I know I have touched on this subject before and perhaps I should write a blog on the frustrations of trying to work out the technical issues of writing a blog. My frustrations (please bear in mind that “frustrations” is short for anger that far outweighs the seriousness of the situation but makes me sound less demented. ) were heightened due to the fact that it was all going to be so easy as I write my blog on my iPad and I had changed my phone so an iPhone so it would all be seamless. Yeah right.

Anyway here we are. We landed in Brisbane and I followed all my anti Covid strategies. They have a Queensland app and all restaurants and bars check it before you can sit down which is great and you quickly get used to it. Shops don’t have them though so you just wander into them but as I am not that fond of shopping that was easy to avoid.

I love Southbank in Brisbane, I think its the best city park space there is anywhere in the world. Right there in downtown you have the river, the ferry, the beach, the botanical gardens, the cafes, and the list goes on.

Southbank Brisbane

We wandered the park and then jumped on the free hopper ferry and hopped up the river. We sat in park on comfy loungers and watched the world go by. I am a lucky girl.

We only had a day as we were off to Coolangatta the next day so time became precious and we grabbed some electric scooters to cover more ground. The bike/scooter/pedestrian paths are amazing and unlike many other city parks and gardens you scan still have access to ride through them albeit on the wider paths.

Botanical Gardens

There are some bits like this walkway where you can’t ride and if you think you might just cheat because no one is around at that moment you can’t because your scooter just stops. It also restricts your speed to 10 kms or even 5kms when the signs depict a go slow. So all law breaking, speeding lime scooter nana’s BEWARE.

I love the way everything is used. Waterline Park sits under the maze of motorway connections and bridges above. Its a fitness park with all sorts of equipment and the space is inviting and used.

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There was of course more sights and scenes. Some eating and drinking which was very delicious however I can’t now remember the name (due to the time lag of writing this not the drinking) but do remember having asian fusion at Luke Nguyen’s fat noodle and it was great.

So there you have it, not quite 48 hours in Brisbane and five days to blog about it. I am going to reach out and seek professional help before I give up and the blogging lark all together so maybe there is hope.

And we’re off!

And we’re off, not quite racing this time, more like a cautious brisk walk. The long awaited overseas trip, three hours across the ditch which not that long ago would hardly of deemed worthy of even being classed as overseas let alone making the pages of the travel blog. What once seemed mundane now feels slightly brave and a little nervy. My prized rational and organised mind is taking on an airy fairy almost conspiracy theory undertone which has to be talked down.


I am actually a risk adverse person which is why I plan and organise. I like to anticipate the threats and weak points, avoid them or mitigate them, at least understand what they are. My brain was always wired for risk assessments long before they became an H&S buzz word. My reasoning is sound and the risks well managed and yet I still feel like I am embarking into a bit of unknown, off on an adventure feeling brave and sort of nervously certain. You know the favourite childhood book….. “we’re going on a bear hunt, we’re going on a bear hunt, we’re not scared we’re not scared”. That’s the feeling.


We’re going overseas, we’re going overseas we’re not scared, we’re not scared. Check in at the kiosk, tap, tap, bing, tap tap bing. Soldier through customs; scan, flash, swish. Step up to security; zip, plonk, bang. We’re going overseas, we’re not scared, we’re not scared.

The everyday normal of yesteryear is gone and everything feels slightly foreign. I have planned the journey like any intrepid traveller would. I have analysed the threats and worked out the weak points and warned WH (sorry to say but his lack of germophobia makes him a weak point) about touching things and if needs must then I have provided him with a mini bottle of sanitizer which I am picking will never see the light of day from the bottom of his backpack.

The airport is full of airport hustle bustle but only in clearly defined pockets. Like a closed down mall with a super sale on in one remaining store. The departure board says it all with its limited list of travel destinations.

The security area is easy with its lack of crowds and the routine easily returns. We wander past the duty free which for airy fairy reasons is on my weak point list. WH has been warned not to stop and shop, like he ever has before. My airy fairy warns that maybe someone from red zone may have crossed the line. But then further on I speculate that the line is in fact a wall. I want to hold my breath as I walk past what I determine to be the wall that separates the red and green. I am probably wrong but still it screams weak point and I take a wide berth and make sure my mask sits snug.

When packed into the gate waiting area it’s important to remember that all these people are just like me and are deemed to be COVID free. My airy fairy decided airport staff are the weak point so again I steer clear and don’t make chit chat. I was always a germophobic when travelling so I feel practised in the art. Banisters and handrails, handles and switches, buffets and banquets are all avoided or if needs must, touched with a layer between myself and the deemed weak point. The old buzz of travel excitement is clouded by the masks, the signs, the perceived threats in the familiar unfamiliar surroundings. I hope the clouds evaporate soon and the travel buzz pushes forward and burns them off.

We have only hand luggage which takes out the weak point of baggage handlers who maybe red/ green. It’s takes a while when packing to remind myself the pack light mantra but once on a roll it’s easy. I always like the holiday feel of having little choice in what to wear and most of all not caring anyway .

There are rows of big planes, with the wings capped, sitting on the tarmac waiting to go somewhere and it’s a reminder that the world out there beyond down under is still fighting for its health and normalcy.

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We board the plane and I watch the other intrepid travellers and whilst Prof Michael Baker and Dr Siouxsie Wiles take up valuable space in my brain as I am diligent with my mask wearing, hand sanitising and not touching my face with my hands, clearly there are others who really do not care. They wear their mask like a chin guard, and to some after they have been offered there take off drink it just becomes a neck warmer. It’s not that hard really so I guess they simply just don’t care.


…………..and then we’re off, or I should say up and the world is just that little bit bigger. Yippppeeee my brave bear hunt psych says.

we’re going overseas, we’re going overseas we’re not scared, we’re not scared.



Haast to Wanaka to Lauder and other places………..

After a night of torrential rain, wind that shook our camper and thunder booms that woke us from our sleep, the day broke with fragments of blue sky trying to cut through the grey. The plan is to go see the Blue Pools and walk the track and then then do whatever else takes our fancy.

We head off over the Haast pass and the camper poltergeist’s were back in full force, as the pot cupboard flew out and of its runner and across the floor like a scene from an exorcism. We are now so used to the cutlery drawer poltergeist that we no longer blink an eye as it jangles open, then jiggles about until it shuts itself again when you go around an opposite corner.

The Haast pass was lovely with its waterfalls and bush. We bounce in and out of our camper doing bitsy walks to check out the next attraction.

We arrive at the Blue track and it has the obligatory swing bridges, the sign on this one though is great and reinforces my point I made in yesterday’s blog. 10+1 and it’s all over rover.

10+1 Swing bridge

We arrive at the Blue Pools and it seems par for the course this trip but of course they are not blue but a deep green. Evidently the sign says that after heavy rain they can turn Green instead of Blue because of all the sediment washing down from the hills but in a few days they will be Blue again, and we will be somewhere else. They are still very beautiful and we enjoy watching the trout swim around in the river below.

Blue Pools

Its onward and upward as we head to Wanaka as I wish to take a picture of the Wanaka tree. Despite being to Wanaka several times I have never taken the obligatory pic. Its windy and the pic is not that great but the moment existed and is now captured in time.

Wanaka tree

We spend the night and then decide to reminisce our way through Central Otago. We leave in the rain and it chases us all day, ever threatening but never quite making landfall. It adds another dimension to the landscape.

Naseby

We head through Dads old haunt of Omaka and Lauder. We check out the old Ophir bridge a quaint little one way bridge which begs to be photographed however we are bailed up by a very unreasonable and grumpy man who came from the opposite direction and demands that us in our camper and the lady in front of us must reverse despite him being on the give way and a straight line reverse, whilst we have to back up around a corner. We all play a Mexican stand off for a while but his agitation is far greater than the problem and you can only think that he has to live with that inside himself and take pity as he marches across the bridge shaking his fist, his red face contracting. The lady in front of us is not so forgiving and her language and gestures match the grumpy old mans. We reverse and don’t get a picture of the historic Ophir bridge.

post office in Ophir

We move onto Lauder hoping to grab lunch at the pub but its closed up. We chat to Graham and Esme who run the local B&B and they remember dad well and his days of holding court in the corner of the bar. They say the pub will open at 6 but we won’t hang around that long. They suggest we go to Saint Bathans and have lunch there as its interesting. So we do.

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Lauder Hotel

We have the best cheese scone ever and wander around the ghost town of Saint Bathans. It is interesting and quaint and really of another place and time. We chat to the farmer having lunch in the pub and the publican behind the bar, swapping stories and drinking our flat whites. Then we decide that’s it, our road trips for 2020 are done and we begin our trip home.

Saint Bathans

I cant sign off without my tips for campervan road trips having now completed three.

Always remember that plans are never perfect, even good ones.

Check out the camper fully before you leave. Including fridge and awning.

Pack a simple kitchen kit eg picnic salt and pepper, teabags, small container of laundry detergent (+$2 coins), marmite (or vegemite), small bottle dish washliquid, extra tea towel. If you dont do this then you end up buying big bottles and throwing them away so take little ones with you.

Take a map as internet is not always available.

Pack your things in packing cases that you can put in the top cupboards.

Take a toilet bag that can hang on a hook or put your toilet bag in a duffle that will hold that and your underwear etc. Not all campground have great places to put things in the showers but they all have hooks. Although showering in the campgrounds saves WH emptying the water all the time I always take the antiseptic wipes:-)

When you take the grandkids make sure they bring there gumboots in winter or jandals in summer. Send them to the kitchen blocks to do the dishes, they get the experience and you get 10 minutes of peace.

Try and get a camper big enough that you can set the bed up and leave it that way, whilst still utilising a table.

Get a good road trip playlist.

Franz Joseph to Haast

We have a plan. A good plan. Get moving in the morning and do the Franz Joseph glacier walk, according to research you can walk along the river and get quite close. Have a great coffee. Go to Lake Mathieson and do the walk to see the reflections of the Southern Alps in the lake. This is evidently a must do.
We arrive at the enormous glacier walk car park and join the lonely DOC ute. 20 mins later we are met with a barrier that says we can go no further as track is closed so we stand and admire the magnificence of this river of ice (from a distance) and then we turn and head back the way we came..

The rivers and bridges here are amazing. The bridges all one lane traversing wide, rocky expanses that conjure up images of raging torrents rushing down from the mountains. The landscape is scarred in so many places as huge chunks of the mountains have been carved and torn from the sides to their resting place below.

We head to Lake Mathieson and again park in a near empty car park. There are two modern buildings that are at the entrance, a cafe and art gallery that have now merged into one, whilst the other stands quietly, chairs stacked and walls empty.

The walk is pretty but of course there are no planned reflections as the wind has picked up and the ripples take the view. We enjoy the view anyway and remark about how even the birds seem quiet as we complete our circuit of the lake.

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We don’t need coffee, nor food but I buy a cute pottery jug and a Xmas decoration from the lovely lady at the cafe who tells us that in total 47 people were employed between the two and now there are 7. I want to buy more and would buy lunch but we already bought lunch to takeaway at the great coffee shop in Franz Joseph so I put my pretty decorations and jug in the van and get on the road again.

Speaking of lunch we park up down the road with a view of Fox Glacier out of the window and heat up our West Coast Whitebait fritter and all is well with the world.

It’s onto Haast or at least that’s the plan, sort of, depending on what we find on the way. We stop on the coast and explore the coastal walk. The sea and lake separated by a dune yet polar opposites of nature. The reeds in the lake gracefully dance in unison back and forward with the melody of the wind. The seas southerly roar and ferocity can be heard in the background but in this space beyond the dune the calm dance is hypnotic and reminds you to breathe.

The rain begins and does not let up. We park up in Haast and hunker down as are battered by wind and rain. It’s a stormy night and as I write I think of our plans for tomorrow and wonder if I should just forget about them. I want to walk the Blue Pools track and see the Blue Pools. I want to photograph the Wanaka tree as I have seen it’s image so many times that I want to bear witness to it myself. But most of all I want the rain and wind to stop and the sun to shine.

Arthur’s Pass to Franz Joseph

The AA man arrived and a couple of hours later and with the extraction of the awning we were off. The sun was shining. The van was rattling and we were on our way. Not long into our journey and the pot cupboard yet again popped it’s cogs and contents, which included the glass coffee pot, made there way across the floor. Who needs coffee anyways.

We head for Hokitika gorge and it does not disappoint. The sun is warm, the sandflies large and the water an amazing turquoise. The bush is lush and the birdsong definitely reminds you that life is good.

There tracks are amazing and exceptionally well maintained. Maybe it’s the lack of people walking them as huge car parks are occupied by a handful of vehicles. There are swingbridges everywhere and whilst they are good they are not really my cup of tea. I like the ground under my feet to not sway when I walk. I also always question the signage. “Is the 20 people really 20 people? “or is it like a 2mx2m lift which says only 12 people can fit in, that is of course if they are all under 10 or tiny catwalk models. Or even better it says 12 people or 600 kilos and my mind goes crazy trying to divide the people into the kilos. Anyway I digress as it matters not because I walk the bridge alone.

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Hokitika Gorge track
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We leave the gorge and head to Franz Joseph where we check into “Rainforest Retreat”. I am getting the feeling that over this way they like to glam up the parking spots by naming them retreats although it’s hard to argue with the sentiment when you are backed into the bush. The day was topped of with the best G&T, (blackball gin and grapefruit sofa) on a sunny deck at the on-site restaurant/bar.

PS

Franz Joseph is lovely. The people friendly, coffee great, scenery majestic and as said previously the G&T’s brilliant but it is so very, very quiet. Large Accomodation businesses have one or two cars parked at them, others have simply pulled the curtains and put up the no vacancy signs. It’s great to walk the walks, and to always get a car park but it’s all comes at a cost and you can’t help but feel that a lot of people here are paying the price.

On the road – Again

I had just spent four days moving. Two days in Hamilton, two days in Palmy. A week of chilling in A camper was sounding good. Plus This one was going to be easy we were seasoned grey nomads. We had the camper van life sussed. Third times a charm. A myriad of tui billboard ads come to mind.

We had a plan. A good plan. Pick up the camper, not the old grunter model but the newer flasher model, no manky curtains or dodgy toilets for us. It would be easy as no orientation required, we knew our stuff. We had a plan. Head to Arthur’s pass enjoying the scenery, taking picture postcard shots and arriving at Jackson’s retreat where we walk the old quartz mine trail, check out the glow worm walk at night, then do the waterfall track in the morning.

I forgot the travel mantra of, “go with the flow” and breathe. First I lost my watch then I got the camera out to make sure it was primed and ready for action only to find I had forgotten the charger. We head to pick up the camper and the pick up takes forever. An empty terminal soon filled and somehow we seemed to get to the back of queue but all was good as when we finally got the keys we could miss the tour until I opened the fridge and the pungent odour leapt out the door …… it was a sign and I should of paid attention as I pointed out the mould and rotting spills on the fridges shelves.
He offered to send it back to detailing and get it cleaned and assured me it has been cleaned as it had been ticked. Well if it’s been ticked then it must be good and by now I am so over it that I just wanted to leave.
A brief handover ensued but with fridge BO still hanging in the air I asked for cleaning product and was given a pack of wet wipes and a squirt bottle of yellow stuff that didn’t squirt.

Did I mention it was raining. Pouring actually. On the road again.

Missed the turn off for the supermarket. Stopped at the four square, ouch. Drove through the picturesque Arthur’s Pass, or at least I am sure it would of been had the rain, mist and fog cleared.

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we arrive at our campground and are met by the lovely owner and we park up with the plan of having a better day tomorrow as at least the forecast is for sunshine.

We step out of our camper and in a break in the rain we go to put the awning down so we can move in and out without getting soaked every time we open the door. Problem is the awning came out, a little bit, but didn’t go back. Not forward, not backward, nothing. It was all bundled up at one end and was obvious that it was never going to work. Guess they ticked that too.

There is no cell phone coverage here so WH heads up the office and rings the 24 hour 0800 help line and they will pass on the message to the team in the morning but hey if we want we can ring back then. Morning comes and at 8, WH wanders back to the lovely lady in the office and the 24hr assistance doesn’t begin until 8.30.
with contact made and an AA man dispatched there is nothing more to do than the washing of course and walk the waterfall track.

So here I sit people, 60 kms from Hokitika waiting for an AA man to come and perform miracles on our broken, lopsided half in half out awning and then we can get on the road again.

Piopiotahi to Queenstown

We book into the lodge on arrival and enjoy the creature comfort of a full size bed and bathroom but most of all WH gets to watch North vs South on the TV. Not sure the last time we went 5 days without TV and one of the best things was no news. With no TV, limited wifi, playlists on the radio it’s been great to get away quite literally and forget or at least not be reminded every hour about COVID and yes we still washed our hands.

We woke to lots of rain and decided to have a slow start to the day in the hope that it cleared enough so that We would not get drenched. The waterfalls spilling down the cliffs were spectacular but difficult to photograph dues to the lack of light. When the rain calmed a bit and I stepped outside to try and take a pic of the waterfalls we were Greeted by a Kea. Feeling really blessed.


We head for Queenstown knowing it’s going to take all day as we had lots of places to stop and enjoy the view. Check them out below.

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well that’s about the end of the road for this trip anyway. I Feel really hurried in my blog as I know once home tomorrow I wont get to write again even though I tell myself now that I will come back to it and edit I know it’s a watery promise.

I Can’t say that we saved the best to last as the beginning middle and end were all brilliant. From Aoraki Mt Cook I felt we were witnessing a true Taonga and that continued through out the whole trip. A treasured journey it will always be.

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Invercargill to Piopiotahi, take 2

After time spent on the hall of fame gallery I begin to explore “Bill Richardson Transport World” and it’s amazing. I had only been once before and that was prior to being open to the public when dad was inaugurated into the transport hall of fame. It was always going to be a special place but now they have curated so much more and the exhibits are brilliant. There is something for everyone and you should put it on the list. You simply must visit this place as it’s world class, both in its collection and it’s display. It had an exhibition on VW campers which resonated well with our camper vanning escapades.


We take the scenic route 99, put the play list on again and enjoy the view. We cruise past Riverton around the coast and through to Manapouri.

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We decide to keep going to Piopiotahi – Milford Sound and the scenery is epic. There is still lots of snow over the pass and through the Homer tunnel and the damage from the February 2020 floods is still evident everywhere, 2020 has a lot to answer for.

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