Death By Chocolate And More

Queenstown, on the other hand, is hardly worth the money it demands for being taken full advantage of. It's a strange place, a small, 100% commercial settlement. There are a thousand activities on offer, and the only thing they all have in common is that they will cost you dearly to participate in, whether you want to go bungee-jumping or just have some photos developed. It should have a big sign outside the town, saying "Budget travelers: Stay away!", but instead it attracts all kinds of travelers, even backpackers, in large numbers.

I had a hard time choosing between bungee jumping from 50, 100 or 150 meters, white or black water rafting, horseriding, mountain-biking, motorcycle sightseeing, dolphin swimming, flying, jetboats, parachuting and whatnot, but in the end I chose a NZ109 trip to Milford Sound the next day. I had to find out if I could really find Norway in New Zealand, and Milford Sound supposedly is the best place to look. Besides, it would give me a whole day of action, while a bungee jump at the same or higher cost would be over in ten seconds. Or maybe I'm just a chicken?

Since people come to Queenstown and stay for one or more nights, this was the last night together for most of the passengers on the bus, some of whom had been traveling together for the last 10 days. This called for yet another alcoholic splurge and a big barbeque. I ate them all under the table, and when they started drinking I went for a nice walk up on one of the hills surrounding Queenstown. I sat up there with my diary until it got too dark to write anymore, and went back to the dorm at the hostel and slept. I only woke up once, in the middle of the night, when the Danish girls and their chosen victims of the night returned and performed some acrobatic manoeuvres in the bunk beds, making the world shake not only for themselves, but for me as well. Sometimes staying in dormitories can be pretty disturbing stuff.

My NZ fjord experience started just after the earthquake in the bottom bunk was over, when I was picked up by the bus to Milford. It was freezing cold outside, compared to what I had gotten used to throughout the last few months, and I didn't feel too comfortable the first couple of hours in the bus. The scenery was magnificent, if not warming, and it was easy to understand why this area since have been used as the setting for movies like Jurassic Park 2, Lord of the Rings and others. Some places it looks like a somewhat alien landscape with tall, strange trees, vertical mountain sides and beautiful waterfalls. It took 4 hours to get to Milford Sound, where we transferred to a boat to go on the fjord itself.

Now, Milford Sound IS very nice, right up there with the Norwegian fjords. The only problem is that Milford Sound is the only fjord you can really have a look at here, while in Norway there are lots and lots of different fjords, some more awesome than Milford Sound, some less. So the only reason that so many people come from the USA and Europe to see this place must be that New Zealand has better PR people than Norway does. Still, I quite enjoyed the 3 hour cruise on the fjord. Thanks to 6 meters of annual rainfall, there are always lively waterfalls crashing down the steep mountainsides and into the sea. The boat went straight into one of them, so that those who missed the morning shower to get here could catch up on that. I didn't. We also moved real close up to a group of seals that were tanning on some rocks, indifferent to what we humans were up to.

The most impressive sight, captured on pretty much every postcard you can buy on South Island, is the Mitre Peak, a 1692 meters high mountain standing almost straight up from the fjord. Near that, in Harrison Cove, there's an underwater observation station where the boat stopped for a while, so that we could go down and have a look at the life under the surface of the fjord. There was a lot more life than I had expected, in the shape of fish, starfish and even some black coral, which, strangely, was all white.

All in all a good daytrip, although it was a bit herdy. Back in Queenstown all the people from the bus were either dead drunk or on their way to becoming so, so I just went to bed, slept, got up, left a few goodbye notes and got on the Kiwi Experience bus northwards again. This time my driver actually looked quite normal, but as soon as he presented himself as Psychedelic Simon, I knew he really WAS quite normal, but then by Kiwi Experience standards. He was a man that was easy to please, Simon. Every time we had grazing sheep on either side of the road, and that was pretty much all the time, he used the bus' horns to scare the sheep closest to the road, creating an enormous chain reaction resulting in a hundred thousand sheep running like mad away from the road a few seconds later, making Simon laugh hysterically. Actually, I discovered I was similarly easily pleased by this show.

We camped at the cold base of Mount Cook, the highest mountain in New Zealand. Most of the time the whole mountain top was covered in clouds, but from what could be seen it was easy to imagine there must be a great mountain up there, somewhere above the Tasman Glacier. The area is very popular among the more laidback kind of hikers, and there were planked paths that could take you to the best views of the mountain. This meant there were quite a lot of people walking around, so I took off from the path and soon found myself walking in solitude up to a place the map called Sealy Terns. From there I could see the mountainside stretch all the way up to the top, and had a great view towards the small lake that had formed where the glacier once had reached with one of its fingers, but now had retreated from. The glacier and the lake were still connected by a small river with the blue/turqoise colour you only find near glaciers.

After another day in the bus through a part of New Zealand that must come pretty close to qualify as wilderness, I was back in Christchurch again. I checked in at Backpackers Inn The Square and went out to the actual square just in time to experience the Wizard. The Wizard is a lunatic that every day gives a speach about whatever is on his mind, while wearing a costume that really does remind you about a wizard, with a pointy hat and everything. I had a hard time understanding what he was raving on about, but I'm sure it must have been important to him anyway. It doesn't matter much, since he would never make it as the number one attraction of Christchurch to me. That honor no doubt belongs to Death By Chocolate, a dessert restaurant in Cambridge Terrace, right next to the Ernst&Young offices!

By pure chance I had come upon an ad for this restaurant in a newspaper I bought on my first morning in New Zealand, and now I decided to give it a try. I did not regret it. I found the place, which looked just like a normal restaurant, and while all the other tables were taken by couples, I was quite happy to go in alone. If I were to go here with a girl, I think that would have failed badly, as I would have no attention left for the girl as soon as I had opened the menu. Ice Burger - Two all chocolate ice cream patties on a sesame seed bun (sponge cake) and with all the trimmings you'd expect but in an unbelievable way. Served with ketchup (berry sauce). Or Ebony and Ivory - Fine layers of white and dark chocolate mousse topped with a rich chocolate sauce and cream? Or Skinny Dip. Or Multitude of Sins. Or Sheer Delight - Puffs of pastry filled with mousse, served with fresh seasonal fruit and brandy snaps all swimming in a chocolate sea. No. I went for the original Death By Chocolate, which turned out to be a huge piece of perfect chocolate cake, flanked by two dashes of chocolate mousse, vanilla sauce, strawberries, raspberries and blackberries, with a wall of white chocolate behind it, hiding a large chunk of chocolate icecream. Yummy. I spent three hours getting it all down, it would be more than enough for two normal people to consume and digest, I think.

Another day, another Kiwi driver. This time it was Matt, who really seemed normal, but he probably was just too new in the job to have developed any dysfunctionalities or coolness. He did get us lost in the process of leaving Christchurch, so we spent an hour there before we really got on our way to the Kaikoura peninsula four hours further north. I stayed at Moby Dix, one of the many hostels here that all seemed to be full, and spent the day walking along the coastline on my own. It was raining, something I had not experienced for the last month or so. Somehow I really enjoyed the rain, suddenly discovering I had been missing it. There were lots of strange rock formations, seals, seabirds and sheep grazing on the green hills, and I felt strangely at home here. In the end it got cold, and a hot shower back at the hostel was the best thing I did that day.

From Kaikoura it was a three hour drive to Picton, a small and picturesque village on the northern tip of South Island, which has a park with palm trees and the ugliest Disney character look-a-like statues in the world. Another three hours, onboard the Arahura, brought me to Wellington, the capital of New Zealand. It was a sunny day, so I tried to do some topless philosophy reading on the sun deck, but I had to give up, the wind kept wanting to turn the pages for me. The wind was from Wellington, and followed me all the way downtown, to the hostel where I stayed, Trekkers Hotel in Cuba Street, a pretty rundown area. Wellington is windy, and that pretty much sums it up, as far as I am concerned. I did have a walk around, and found that all the natives wore ties, and after 6pm everything is closed, except for a few restaurants and a lot more xxx bookshops. My guide book raved on about The Beehive, the new parliament building, but it wasn't that spectacular, really.

My last full day in New Zealand was spent from 8am until 8pm in the bus, covering the 700 kilometers between Wellington and Auckland. I realize that one should probably spend more than one day to cover the North Island thoroughly, but I had my flight to catch. Still, I'll give you the rundown of what North Island is like, going from Wellington and northwards:

First, don't go with the Kiwi Experience Express. They'll just make "meal stops" at rather expensive lunch diners and fruit markets, where they probably get a nice commission from the business they generate. Anyway, the first third of North Island is boring. Skip it. In Taupo there's a golf course in the middle of a lake, "The Great Hole-In-One Challenge". Rotorua both looks and smells strange, rather like Iceland. An Israeli sat down next to me in the bus and said he recognized my voice from Brisbane. I'll never cease to be amazed by the number of hidden microphones the Israeli Intelligence must have installed all around the world. Scary.

In Auckland I was given a bed in a room which I had to share with three Japanese girls. They all panicked and didn't know what to do when they came in and discovered me unpacking, so I quickly finished and went for a walk. When I returned late in the evening they had gone to sleep, so I could now do the same.

The only thing I had time for before I had to leave for the airport the next day was a quick visit at the Auckland Museum. It's probably good if you're really, really interested in Maori stuff in general.

This leaves only my evaluation of my visit to New Zealand before we move on to Fiji. First, Kiwi Experience worked pretty well for me, since I was a bit short on time and wanted to cover many places quickly, WITHOUT being among a crowd of grey-haired people. I can handle being among a crowd of heavy-drinking people for a couple of weeks, and that's what you have to be prepared for if you choose to do a tour with these guys. Definitely low-budget, definitely a chance to get ot meet a lot of backpackers, but be warned that a large part of them will be spoilt British youngsters (16-20s) that are here ONLY to party.

Now, about New Zealand, I have to say it is a beautiful country scenery-wise. Great mountains and lakes, and even one stunning fjord. It's beautiful, but not more than what you can find other places with similar landscapes, so it's not unique, if you know what I mean. Still, very nice, and they must have a great marketing office, judging from the large number of people who actually come to this country, so far away from everything else. The people I talked to were all very friendly, and the hostels I stayed at were all excellent value for money and lacked no important facilities. Fjordland in the south is closed for normal traffic in the southern winter, so plan on coming between september - april if that's what you're coming for. There are some very good treks to do, especially on the South Island, but keep in mind that you have to book ahead to get on the best ones, and pay quite a bit for it as well. There's toilet paper at all public toilets, something you learn to appreciate after going through South-East Asia. Two tell-tale signs you're in a very civilized and nice country: The telephone kiosks all have phonebooks and there are piles of newspapers lying around in the streets, leave money and take one if you like. Hot dog is NOT a sausage in a bun here. Don't ask me what it is, just be prepared for something different. All blacks apparently has something to do with sports, and there are 60 million sheep in the country. You'll never walk alone.

Quite satisfied, I got on an airplane from Air Pacific (yay, new barfbags collected!) called "Island of Terror" or something like that, and headed for Fiji.