A Bittersweet Farewell:
After tramping the George Sound
Track, I knew
that I would, for better
or for worse, be slowly making my way to leave. But in the
meantime, that
didn't stop me from having a good time.
December 3-4
The day after returning from the George Sound Track, I relaxed in Te
Anau, but I knew that it would soon be time to head out for the tracks
again. I talked to Les and he told me about the Manapouri
tracks
and I thought they would be enjoyable.
The following day I got two quick hitches to the town of Manapouri,
about 20 km. to the south. I rented a rowboat to cross the
river
to get to the track. Immediately I was in the mossy
hummocks. I wandered the trail looking up and down, left and
right, forward and back. In several places I encountered
groups
of fantails. They are a small bird that have, well, you can
figure out what they have from their names. They flew around
me chirping or they would land on the nearby branches and wag their
tail feathers at me. I had the definite feeling that they
were
showing off. I don’t know why fantails do that, but I like
that they do.
This track wasn’t extreme stuff like the George Sound Track, but nice
enough. As the trail went by, it got better and
better. The
mossy sections seems to go on and on. I walked along towards
the
hut where I would spend the night. I was pleased at
all that was around me. I sat down to relax and who should
join
me but a bush robin. A pretty brave one too. He
came right
up to me and started pecking at my boots. Later two more bush
robins joined me. They checked me out for a bit and then flew
off
to do “bird things.” Yet the first bush robin still found me
interesting. He stood on the ground next to where I
sat. He
kept looking at me and then pecking at my boots. Then, he
would
start it all over again. We spent a lot of time
together.
Eventually I had to leave my little friend the robin as we belong to
different worlds. No, we belong to the same world, but we
live in
it differently. I from the world “out there.” The
bush
robin belongs to the forest and the forest really belongs to it.
I arrived at the Hope Arm Hut on the shore of Lake Manapouri.
I
saw that a group of fishermen were staying there as they left their
booze, nudie magazines, and cigarettes all over the hut. I
have a
sneaking suspicion how this evening will end up and I know that I don’t
want anything
to do with
it. I headed off walking to
the smaller Back Valley Hut. It was so nice walking in the
forest. The forest alternated between mossy gardens and deep
green fern trees that were ten meters tall. I stopped and
closed
my eyes. Even though it was overcast, the day was
pleasant.
When I opened my eyes, the sun had come out and ground and mosses were
dappled in the sunlight filtering through the trees. When I
closed my eyes and reopened them again, the shade was back.
It
would continue to change like this for the rest of the day.
You
know, it really was a special trail. It’s fairly gentle and I
think that is what I was looking for this day.
I reached the hut and found that it was a dark, four-bed hut barely big
enough to fit that number of people, but at least I was
alone. It
was absolutely overrun with mice, a dismal place—but immensely better
than spending the evening with drunken fisherman. I had to
hang
my food by a string from the rafters to keep the mice out of
it.
It was ok sharing the place with the mice, they kept away from me and
the rest. Everything has a right to live and it was their
home
after all, not mine.
In
the morning I walked towards Lake Rakatu. I sat next to the
lake where I could see Mt. Titiroa, it’s a mountain that looks like
it’s covered in snow, but is actually a light colored rock.
The
water in the lake looked like a mirror that reflected the nearby
forest. I took the track nearly back to the Hope Arm Hut and
then
towards the Garnock Burn. There isn’t really a track
there.
Instead it's a route (an unmaintained track), so I had some trouble
following it. When the trail markings became questionable I
choose a mossy garden, in which I sat for a long time. I
didn’t
have far to go today, so I could take the extra time to
relax. I
hiked to the Back Valley hut and picked up my pack.
I slowly made my way back to the rowboat. I took the path
that
has a climb, but there the forests are a bit drier. I turned
back
after a while as I would rather be in the wetter forests covered in
mosses and ferns.
I
knew I was approaching the end of the trail, so I found a lush
section and sat down. I watched all the fantails around me,
flitting here, fanning there. I like watching them.
I knew
that this might be the last time I sat among the mosses on the trail or
even the last time I would do this in NZ. I was feeling
ambivalent about that. I’m eager to move on, yet I still want
to
stay. Looking back as I write this, I should have stayed in
NZ
for months longer, but that isn’t what happened. I continued
my
walk, looking at the tangled roots and rocks seemingly placed at
random. A big patch of moss here, a bush robin over there,
trees
above, Mother Earth below, blue skies overlooking all of it.
Yeah.
I got back to the rowboat and crossed the river. It really
was a
perfect day to be tramping. Not a cloud in the sky.
It was
warm, but not too warm as I was cooled by a breeze through the forest
that made sure that I never became uncomfortable. I was able
to
spend the whole day experiencing that perfection. The
Manapouri
Tracks aren’t ever going to be confused with the Dusky or George Sound
Tracks. Those tracks are so spectacular as to be in a
separate
league. Few places can even begin to compare with them, but
that
doesn’t take away from where I was the last two days. I think
of
the Manapouri tracks as Fiordlands Lite. It gives you a good
picture of what the area is like without knocking yourself
out.
It stands on its own merit and it was good to have been there.
A quick hitch brings me back to Te Anau and the rest of the world or at
least a small part of it. I spend the evening with a German
woman, Michaela. She said she was two weeks behind on her
diary
as it is more interesting to meet people from all over. I
think I
understand where she is coming from.
December 6-8
I said goodbye to Donna, Les, and Dawn. It wasn’t farewell,
rather “see you again” as I know that I'm coming back some
day.
If there is one thing I’m certain about my life, that is it.
I
really didn't want to leave, but I had to. As I write this,
all I
can keep thinking about is how happy I was in Fiordlands. New
Zealand is one of my favorite places and if I had to pick a place I
like the most there, as difficult as it would be, I’d say the
Fiordlands area is my favorite. I keep thinking what a
colossal
mistake it was to leave without going on this track or that track, but
I will be back. With an empty feeling, I walked out of town.
At least I could console myself with getting to hitch again and after a
few minutes, Johann stopped. He was going to Queenstown, so
it
would be a fairly long ride. I got along well with Johann and
he
told me quite a bit about Sweden. That's another place I'll
have
to visit some day. He dropped me off outside of town and I
got
another ride in three minutes from a nurse who worked all over the
world on movie sets. She was going all the way into Dunedin
and
she dropped me off at the Octagon. This is the main “square”
at
the center of town and is called the Octagon as it is shaped like
one. Pretty basic, huh?
I stayed at a hostel a few blocks away and met Danny. A
mountain
bike racer from Guernsey Island in the English Channel. A
speck
of land so small that bike races have laps that are under five minutes
long. He tells me that you lose count of how many laps you
do. I imagine so. No matter what type of cycling
they do,
it always good to talk to someone with a passion for riding.
It's
in the blood and it doesn't go away. Later I went downtown
and
met Potato Man. There is a small potato stand in the Octagon
where Valerie and I shared a potato two years ago. I
certainly
had to get another potato if I was in Dunedin. The following
day
I took care of business in regards to going to Australia. I
was
ambivalent about leaving. I really wanted to get to
Australia,
but I still wanted to stay longer in NZ. For better or for
worse,
I bought the plane ticket. Later I went to the Speights
brewery
to pick up some goodies for my friend Nicholas. He missed
Speights, which they don’t have in Switzerland. They couldn't
have been more helpful. "Would you like a shirt?
How about
a carry bag? Do you want some..."
The last thing I had to do in Dunedin was to go to Taiaroa Head where
there is a colony of royal albatross. A woman who lives a
very
simple life of raising organic strawberries picked me up. It
was
a short ride, but I'm sure if we had more time together, I would have
found her even more interesting. Once out to the albatross
colony, I just watched them fly. I looked out over the
endless
ocean and watched the birds come in. I sat for quite a while,
noticing just how blue the ocean can be. As a hang glider
pilot,
I can really appreciate how good these birds are at soaring in the
breezes. They can glide like no other bird on their slender
wings
that are up to 3 meters wide. They are clumsy on land, but
poetry
in the air. I don't think I'll ever tire of watching them
fly. Eventually I hitched back to Dunedin, meeting a guy who
wanted to set up a private tramping track. He was quite
interested in talking to me with all of the different tracks that I had
done over the years. Once back in Dunedin, I spent the
evening
quietly, as I did most of my day.
I
wandered the town in the morning before beginning my hitch to Oamaru
to visit friends. I arrived at a hitching point where a
German woman, Anne, was already hitching. We decided to hitch
together as a male has an easier time getting a ride with a
female. A short time later, a guy who can only be described
as
"interesting" looking, starting hitching nearby us. I asked
him
to go hide in the bushes as three people waiting for a ride will never
get picked up, so it would be quicker for all of us if he
hid. He
thought it a good idea, so he went into the forest and sang songs to
himself. A minute later, another woman comes to hitch and
parks
herself right in front of Anne and me. It took a bit of
convincing, but eventually she goes to hide in the bushes
too.
Once they hid themselves, it didn't take long to get picked up
by Net Guy. He was a very fun computer consultant who had a
sense
of humor quite similar to mine, something not always easy to find (or
tolerated). We entertained Anne with stories of the Darwin
Awards
(where people kill themselves doing dumb things) and other such
wisdom. Net Guy was going all they way to Christchurch and I
wish
I could have accompanied them all the way, but Oamaru is only halfway
there. It was one of the most enjoyable rides I've ever
had. Sometimes I think that I should have been more
free-spirited
and
taken the ride to Christchurch and then hitch back to Oamaru, but I
wanted to make sure that I saw my friends. I guess someone
hitching around NZ is pretty free-spirited, but it doesn't always feel
that way.
Net Guy and Anne dropped me off in Oamaru. I went to Michael
Obrien’s bookshop. He makes books by hand using equipment
that
looks like it’s one-hundred years old, actually the equipment is that
old. He and his assistants are real craftsmen of the old
methods
that we don’t see very often anymore. It was nice to meet
them
again and they remember Valerie and I visiting them a few years
ago. Next I went to meet Des and Joan, whom I met a few years
ago. They made me a nice home cooked meal and introduced me
to
some of their friends. Des brought me to the wool factory
that he
worked in. They start with raw wool at one side of the
factory
and emerge with the finished product at the other end. It was
a
very interesting place to see, but I wouldn’t want to work there (or
anywhere else for that matter). Des seemed to agree with me.
December 9
Des and Joan cooked a nice breakfast and dropped me off north of
town. I was on my way to Christchurch. After two
minutes a
car pulled off the road ahead of me. It was far enough away
from
me that I wasn’t sure if he was stopping for me or not.
Besides,
the guy was wearing a suit jacket and they don’t stop very often for
hitchers. As I walked past the car he asked me if I was going
to
get in or not. Mick was a landscape architect who only worked
when he wanted to. We got along well and eventually I told
him
how I wasn’t sure if he was stopping for me. Just goes to
show
how we can’t judge people on shallow measures like
appearance.
Mick was in his 60’s and told me that how everyone used to dress the
same, and how much he likes it that people can now pretty much wear
what they want. I guess I’m so used to this that it never
really
occurred to me, but I guess he’s right. Forty years ago, I
probably wouldn’t have been doing what I’m doing. I told Mick
that I was a bit sad as this was my last day hitching. In
fact,
Mick was going all the way into downtown Christchurch, so it was my
last hitch period. I was really going to miss standing on the
side of the road with my thumb out and not knowing who would pick me up
next.
I looked around downtown before I headed off to find Rob. He
is a
friend of Gareth’s whom I met when I was last in NZ. I wasn’t
sure where I was and approached a guy in a tie and very cool
shades. Before I could ask him he said my name, it was
Rob.
He brought me back to his house and we went out to mountain bike ride
in the hills above the city. Rob arranged for a ride with
several
of his friends. Nothing like a good ride to console me about
missing hitchhiking. I thanked Rob for bringing me out on the
ride and he thanked me for getting him motivated to get a ride
organized. Yeah, a good time it was.
December 10
Rob
dropped me off downtown and I left my backpack in his car where I
would pick it up before I left for the airport in the
afternoon.
I wandered into Cathedral Square and saw a guy dressed in a penguin
costume. Now this was someone I had to meet. He was
giving
out free samples for a snack company. He got to dance around
and
make people laugh. You should have seen how the children
flocked
to him. After that, it was off to meet Gary. A few
years
ago Gary gave me a ride when I was hitching out of Dunedin (at the same
place I was hitching with Anne). He stopped when he
recognized I
was a mountain biker because of how I was dressed. It was
good to
see him again and it was as comfortable being with him as the last time
we saw each other. Gary is really into the outdoors and it’s
certainly something we both share. He introduced me to his
dad who had worked in Fiordlands and was
familiar with the George Sound area. I spent the afternoon
with
him and suddenly realized I was late for getting to the
airport.
I hurried across town to Rob’s work and found out that Rob had gotten
called out on an emergency. He left the keys to his car,
which
contained my backpack, with a co-worker. The co-worker left
for
the afternoon (with the keys) without telling anyone. Now I
was
in a real pickle. They managed to contact the co-worker, but
I
had missed my bus. The secretary ordered an airport taxi for
me. I said, “Please don’t do this, it isn’t
necessary.” She
said, “It’s already done” as she handed me a company charge slip to pay
for the ride. “Have a nice trip” she told me with a smile as
I
walked out to the street. That’s what I like about the people
of
NZ, always pleasant, to the very end.
I really like the Kiwi people. I think they are the nicest in
the
world. I sort of think of them as stuck in a time warp, maybe
a
generation or two behind the rest of the western world, but I mean that
in a good way. They are very friendly and still have a
certain
trust in people. How many other places do single women pick
up
male hitchhikers? I find them to be kind no matter where I
go. During the last month, I only met one unpleasant
person. Now I know that the Kiwis might look at their
coworkers
and neighbors and wonder how I can think this, but this is my
experience. They are pleasant, helpful, have a sense of
humor,
and don’t take themselves too seriously. To me, these are
marks
of a decent society and a decent people.
When the taxi came, he passed me right up and didn’t really notice even
when I walked up to the cab. When I got in I asked him (with
a
little smirk), “I bet you weren’t expecting someone who looks like a
vagrant on a call to Tonkin Taylor Engineering?” The taxi
driver
said this wasn’t so, but I knew it was and I was ok with that.
I arrived at the airport and checked my backpack. I wandered
over
to the Antarctic Museum next to the airport. About a year ago
I
had some dealings by phone with Shirley, the giftshop
manager. I
met her and she said, “So you’re Craig!?” She was quite
interested in my travels and how I race mountain bikes wearing cycling
tights adorned with penguins that she had sold me. She gave
me a
ticket to the museum. I had a look around and let time slip
by. Once again, realizing that I was late for getting on my
flight, I hurried back to the airport terminal. As much as I
didn’t want to leave, it was time to go. I got on board and
met
Michaela, the woman I spent time with in Te Anau.
The plane flew west over this magic land. It was very, very
hard
to leave, but not as hard as it was to leave the first time.
The
two situations were very different. My first trip to NZ was
the
greatest experience of my life. This was a different
experience,
fantastic in every way, but different. I guess I consoled
myself
in that I still had a lot of travelling in front of me to look forward
to, whereas when I was leaving last time, I was slowly heading towards
home. I had made a decision that I would spend no more than
thirty days in New Zealand and I stuck to that. As I flew out
of
the country, I realized what a big mistake that was. At the
end
of my travels, I would come to think of this decision as the biggest
mistake of the whole trip. Yet at the time the decision made
sense. So it goes.
This country is one of the most amazing places on the face of the
planet. I’m so happy that I got to return there for a second
time
and I know that it won’t be the last time I go there. It
makes me
happy to be in a place where I can hitchhike anywhere I want to go. I
like the barren, windswept mountaintops and the lush, wet
valleys. I like the blue skies and ocean waves. I
like the
endless vistas and the moss covered tree that is right in front of
me. I think the people are among the most pleasant and the
land
heartbreakingly beautiful.
All these thoughts crossed my mind as the plane flew west to another
place that I would come to love. I looked down and saw the
Alps. I didn’t get to see them very much as it quickly
clouded
up. I just smiled as I knew that underneath those clouds lay
something beautiful.