Saigon delivered big time. As with Hanoi, I got mostly mixed reviews of Vietnam's largest city with many people citing the traffic, pollution, and sheer intensity of the place as negatives. Well, I guess I just enjoy big cities more than most. I found Saigon a perfect blend of west and east. I stayed over in the backpacker distract near De Tham, and while this particular area ranks low on my list of neighborhoods, it is cheaper than everywhere else.

A key ingredient to my enjoyment was that I met a group of local ex-pats my first night in town. They subsequently invited me to dinner parties and nights out on the town, allowing me to see local restaurants, a rather swanky art gallery opening, and a big club on a Friday night. I spent most of my time away from the De Tham area and felt as though I was seeing a good cross section of the Saigon the locals see. My takeaway is that Saigon is perhaps the most liveable town I saw in s.e. asia outside of Chaing Mai. It is a vibrant place where commercialism is starting to take hold, but still competes with old school Vietnamese markets. I found the residents to be a bit warmer than their counterparts in Hanoi, and I thought Saigon held itself out to travelers as a city that is increasingly aware of its place as a key cultural town in southeast asia. The art galleries were impressive, the food was top notch, and the attitude of the residents was generally welcoming.

I did the obligatory stop at the War Remnant's Museum, a sobering and down right embarrassing place to go as an American. I took a day trip out to the Mekong Delta because I wanted to get out of the city on my third day there. The tour was nice, but as with other tours in Vietnam, it held very little in the way of substance. Lots of stops to go 'shopping' or pointless breaks to eat local coconuts. I mean, this is Vietnam's continual problem = the lack of interesting side trips or excursions beyond the main tourist areas.

In the end, I made some good friends and had some eventful nights out in the city. I left the town on a high note. I strongly recommend it and hope to return soon.

Saigon! remains copyright of the author efstein, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Certain facts are indisputable -

- the geography puts all travels in a north-south or vice versa trajectory. While not a negative alone, the fact is that the feeling of being forced into a stream or pattern of traveling is ominipresent. From Hanoi you go to Hue, from Hue to Hoi An, from Hoi An, Nha Trang -- maybe a stop in De Lat or Mui Ne. I met travelers in Hanoi and would randomly see them in Hue and then 5 days later in Nha Trang. Everyone is doing the same thing, and the question that I kept asking is, why?

- Vietnam is not nearly as developed or 'open' to travelers as one may expect. Call me naive, but I was led through initial online researching and second hand stories from other travelers to believe that Vietnam was open and ready to be explored. It is true that the coastline offers many interesting places, but off the coast and into the hills you see a country that is generally not prepared or perhaps not willing to invite travelers into its less populated areas.

- The tour agencies, bus routes, and general guide book induced travelers are all telling you to do the same thing. I have personally stayed as far away from tour groups as possible during my five months on the road. I generally find that they over promise and the feeling of being held captive in a tour bus all day is not my way of spending time abroad. That being said, you are left with very few alternatives in Vietnam's central area. The DMZ tour was high on my list of to-dos and, although I do not regret going, I am thankful I went on a rainy day, for the tour was essentially a waste. In other areas like Hoi An and Nha Trang the predominance of multiple tour companies offering the same exact itinerary was further proof that Vietnam has things to do, but it does not have variety. You either go on the same tour as everyone else or you sit around in a restaurant all day reading a book.

I will say that options such as guided motorbike tours for a few days into the hills were the exact thing I should have done if I had more time. It seems like there are a few ways to get off the beaten path, and this was certainly one of them.

I enjoyed Hoi An and Nha Trang where I was able to get a week in between floods and typhoons. Hoi An certainly has that comfort level thing down, with abundant cafes, art galleries, and markets, I thought it was the easiest place to enjoy yourself for an extended period of time, although it felt very western. But even in Hoi An, if you do not want to shop, there is little else to do.

In Nha Trang I was most surprised by the wonderful professionalism I encountered with Rainbow Divers, on a morning two dive session. Their boat and dive team far out-performed anything I saw in Thailand, if only the actual diving was a bit better. Nha Trang is a nice place, but as with other areas in Vietnam, the westerners are herded to one area of the city where you can find your english breakfasts and western bars. I rented a motorbike for two days and motorbiked over 100 kilometers in the surrounding areas as I was getting annoyed by the feeling that I was not seeing the 'real' Vietnam. My advice - do it. Get on a bike, take a map, and get away from all of these quasi-western areas within the tourist towns. I met locals, was invited into a private lunch in a farm town, and felt more satisfied with my experience by getting away from tourist land.

I saw the communities that are located in between the tourist destinations. They are poor, english is non-existent, and generally there seems like little going on in these places apart from a rural agrarian life style that offers little in the way of tourism opportunities. From a backpacker standpoint, its a shame you cant explore these areas with a bit more confidence, but I really did not see or hear anyone say they did extensive traveling in these areas and that includes the bearded backpackers right on through the lonely planet packs of 4 girls.

I am happy I saw what I saw, but I wont be coming back anytime soon.

- The coastal cities of Hue, Hoi An, and Nha Trang were generally overrated. (I realize this is not a fact,

backpacking central Vietnam remains copyright of the author efstein, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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I stayed in the old city which is one of the oldest preserved 'old cities' in any asian country. Its streets are narrow and the shops all moonlight as homes for the shopkeepers. During the day the sidewalks are filled with merchants, motorbikes, and food stalls - walking requires frequent detours into the street. The street. Wow, well Hanoi trumps everywhere I have ever been in terms of street chaos. Seemingly endless numbers of motorbikes twist and turn with little regard for traffic laws, which I have learned are loose to non-existent in Hanoi. But in all the chaos, I found an endearing order to the old city. Old alley ways were lined with food stalls and the locals sit on tiny chairs and eat their Pho (Vietnamese Soup). I was not harassed by too many touts, scammers, or street vendors, at least no more than what I am now accustomed to in southeast Asia. And as you move through the old city to the Hoan Kiem Lake the choas opens up into a more modern city with larger streets and a city plan that uses the lake as a central point.

From the lake I walked through variously nice and not so nice neighborhoods to view the french inspired colonial architecture, the "Hanoi Hilton" known here as Hoa Lo Prison - famous for holding American POWs and before that used by the French to hold Vietnamese socialists and communists - a scary place. I walked through a mediocre Botanical Gardens, saw the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum (sadly, Ho was getting cleaned up this month so I couldnt view him). I took in the Fine Arts Museum which held a nice collection of art, even if the building reminded me of a portion of my high school, and I also saw a memorial to John McCain, the American senator who was shot down in central Hanoi when he was a fighter pilot in the war. He is actually revered in Vietnam for his eventual pro-Vietnam stance regarding the war.

Enough with the little details, the big point is that I think Hanoi is great. Its not western its not really that beautiful in a conventional sense. Nor is a hard city to learn or get around, as some people suggest to me. I found it largely walkable, and with the proper choices, transport never put me in a risky or fraud inducing situation. One night I ccoordinated to meet my friend Sophie, who was part of my group when I lived in Wanaka, New Zealand. She is traveling with her husband and we all met up for drinks and dinner. Apart from that I was solo the whole time and due to Hanoi's sensory appeal in terms of sights, sounds, and food....I thought it was a good place to travel solo.

The above description may suggest that Hanoi is bursting at the seems and difficult to

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Laos is a unique place. Now with both Thailand and Vietnam under my belt, Laos leaves the impression of a lost or forgotten world set between two countries that have a ton of history. The small villages I spent my time in were easily the most third world places I have ever been to....I say this in a good way. Unlike dilapidated third world countries, Laos is simply not developed. Thatched roof huts, rustic toilets, wood stoves, few electronics - its just an undeveloped place that to the naked eye, is in no rush to join modernity. The locals either ignored us or tried to help us when necessary.....again this is a good thing, compared to the hassles you encounter from over-zealous sales persons and touts in Thailand and Vietnam.

Some travelers will conclude that there is very little to do or see in Laos, and in a way I have to agree. Forty percent of the country remains prone to unexploded land mines, and the rest of the country has minimal to zero modern infrastructure. The backpacker highways are commonly known trips running north/south from the border town of Huay Xai on a two day boat cruise on the Mekong to the french colonial town, Luang Prabang. From there its an 8 hour bus ride to Vang Viene for a notorious day of tubing on the Mekong from one bar to another ending the day in a drunken stupor. There are trekking opportunities in between, there is the weakly reviewed capital of Vientiene, and there are a few other activities like the Gibbon Experience (see below entry) which can keep you in the country longer.

That being said, after I opted for the Gibbon Experience I had basically a week to get myself to Hanoi without sacrificing too much of Vietnam in the process. While living in the treehouses I befriended four other travelers. There was Daniel and Hannes, a German and Austrian, who were old university friends and now were both in the corporate world and taking a three week vacation together. I actually met them on my overnight bus from Chaing Mai, and we talked briefly about the Gibbon Experience. The next morning I crossed the border on my own and ran into them in Huay Xai. We went over to the Gibbon Experience office and lobbied to get into the group that started that morning....we missed the company's charter van north by thirty minutes, but with three people offering to sign up, they got a pickup truck and loaded us in so that we could meet up with the rest of the day's group. In the jungle the three of us were placed in a five person tree house with two girls from Canada, Ally and Courtney, and from there the team of 5 was in place for the next week in Laos.

A bit of bad luck led to our first tip. Ally had her camera taken from the treehouse. Possible theories ranged from curious giant squirrels to the local village drunk, but the reward came in the form of the company owner Jeff, a forty something Frenchman who talked with us in an attempt at damage control. (NOTE: I really dont know what happened to the camera, it was a piece of garbage and we all had our wallets in the treehouse unguarded, and the guides and owner were earnestly distraught, so its loss was not really logical.) Jeff advised us to avoid the two day Mekong boat ride, which consists of sixteen hours spread over two days on a slow rather uncomfortable boat, with a layover in a dull town that everyone is forced to stay in. Instead he advised us to bus it to a small village called Nong Khiau. To get there would require a simple ten hour bus journey, or so he said. From there it was a day's boat journey down the Ou River which flows into the Mekong just north of Luang Prabang. It was off the beaten path, and it was only one day on the boat. All five of us were excited to have some insider information and an alternative to the standard route.

The actual journey provided what we wanted -- no tourists, no backpackers, isolation in a small town, and picturesque scenery. The initial 'bus' ride turned into a private minivan ride when we found out that the only option on our travel day was the local bus...an estimated 16 hour drive with live chickens, pigs, and babies on board. No thanks. Our minivan was pretty flash, we all had full recliners and a lot of room for what turned out to be an eleven hour drive. The total distance less than two hundred miles! The roads in Laos are mostly paved, but every mile brings occasional dirt road patches, pot holes, mud slides, or reductions to a single lane. You have to just give it all time because you can not get anywhere fast....unless you fly. We got to Nong Khiau in the dark, exhausted, without any idea where we would sleep. The driver took us to a guesthouse that was kind of clean and remotely comfortable, but it was all we had and despite the whining of some of our troops I put my foot down and said that there was no way I was going to look at various guesthouses at 8pm in this town, we were staying put. We caught an amazingly starlight sky, ate at a bizarrely fantastic Indian food place, and got pulled off the street by a drunk local to finish a bottle of Laos whiskey with his family. All in all, a good night.

In the morning we awoke to the enchanting location that puts Nong Khiau on the map. Its stationed on the Ou River in between various jungle green mountains. With more time it would have been a choice location to do some trekking, but we all had a tight schedule and yearned for some society in Luang Prabang. The ensuing boat trip was nice, but coming off the heels of an 11 hour van ride, 7 more hours in a boat put everyone on edge. We dodged the rain this whole time, but apparently a storm had led to a swollen section of the Ou north of the merge into the Mekong. We had to wait two hours while the boat captains examined the section and determined a navigation route. The boats in Laos are all wooden and are closer to big canoes than boats, a bad current or any type of swell could be exciting in a bad way. So that was an unfortunate delay, but we still got into L.P. before dark and were all fully satisfied that we'd chosen correctly with our travels.

Luang Prabang is a strange place. After several days living in jungles and in small backwoods villages, L.P. was a shock, as its easily the most western place I have been to in southeast asia. There is certainly a large local community and local Laos restaurants and universities are everywhere, but the old city is a UNESCO world heritage site and it is presently home to a large westernized neighborhood of french patisseries, cafes, travel agents, and nice hotels. The issue I have is how cut off the tourist and local areas seem to be in L.P. It is a very nice place and I enjoyed resting there for a few nights. Certainly, it is on all tour packages as a location not to be missed, and it attracts a very sedate western crowd of middle to older age tourists, along with the obligatory backpacker scene. Its just a hard place to feel as though you are in a country like Laos.

So much writing, I'll stop now. I had wanted to do the land crossing from Laos to Dien Bien Phu in northern Vietnam, but after experiencing the pace of the roads in Laos, I booked a flight into Hanoi. I skipped the drunken revelry of Vang Viene and missed out on some trekking. I could have easily put in another week in Laos, if not more, but I am thankful to have seen a good cross section of what the country has to offer. And I'll add that I got the sense that Laos remains outside the investors' eyes, it does not look like a place that will be all that different in ten years, hopefully I'll find out for myself.

Laos - random events without a guide book remains copyright of the author efstein, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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In Laos, you do not see this. The villagers acknowledge you, but there is no rush to beg or hawk crappy items in your face. There is no attempt to guilt trip you into offering children candy or money. It is a welcome change from what you occasionally see in Thailand and, from what I hear, in Cambodia.

From the village we walked for about an hour through rice paddies and into the native jungle. The weather was humid with overcast sun. I was drenched in sweat after a few minutes on the trail, but at this point, the sheer curiosity of what awaited us was more than enough to propel our group to the base camp. At base camp you find the guides' accomodation and a kitchen where the daily meals are prepared, thats about it. We were given our harness and glider systems for use on the ziplines and proceeded to break up our group of nine into two groups of 5 and 4.

The Gibbon Experience is a very simple concept. Two Frenchman began the project about 7 years ago. The basic idea was to find away to curb the local 'slash and burning' of the jungle and the endangerment of the local species by giving the local villages an alternative way to profit from the jungles existence. The concept of forest conservation through eco-tourism is not that original, but I must say that I think this may be the best example of this strategy that I have ever witnessed. You speak to the guides and hear how they are basically the biggest earners in the entire area. Other villages want to get help build tree houses and extend the project. And even with expansion, the project does not bring in more than about 12 people per day.

Today what was once one treehouse and a few ziplines is now 7 treehouses that span 7 kilometers, interconnected by an array of jungle tracks and about two dozen ziplines. Tree House 1 was the first tree house built, and its where I stayed. It is a trilevel complex set about 175 feet up on a 300 foot high Ficus tree. The only way in and out is through ziplines. The tree house had a living room/kitchen area on the second floor, two 'bedrooms' and a bathroom with outdoor shower on the first floor and a third bedroom in the third floor. I felt completely safe and secure in the tree house as it seemed very sturdy. After dropping our bags off upon our arrival, our guide took us out for an afternoon of learning the safety precautions for the zip lines.

The whole zip line thing is absurdly easy. After a standard climbing harness, you are given a safety rope that you always attach to the line followed by your roller which is also attached to the line. One hand goes on top of the roller to push down on it if you need to break. For the other four people and myself who constituted our gang and zipping partners, I would say it took about 10 minutes for us all to be very comfortable with the system. By day two we were filming each other and going off on solo missions to find the newly built tree houses which were about a 2-3 hour zipping and trekking journey away.

The ziplines vary in length and height but figure the average length is about 200-400 meters with a height of about 100-200 meters. Crazy. You are literally soaring above the jungle as most of the lines are positioned to guide you over a ravine and connect you with two equally high points above lower jungle. The vistas are unbelievable. In the mornings, you zipline through mist and fog, disappearing into nothingness and re-emerging at the landing areas.

The entire experience is completely hands off. After the first day, you return to the tree house for dinner. The sunsets, candles are lit, cards are played and eventually the noises of the jungle at night take over. We had some visitors at night. Giant spiders, giant grasshoppers, and giant squirrels which look like lemurs, and fortunately very few mosquitoes. In the morning, our guide came at 6 am sharp to lead a gibbon spotting expedition. Gibbons are only active in the mornings and usually only for a short period after 7 am. On both mornings we heard their extremely loud cries, but only on the second did we get a fleeting glimpse of one. After this planned activity, you have the entire day to yourselves. The Gibbon Experience is not educational, scientific, or cultural. It is simply a program that allows you to pay to live in the jungle canopy, view the native species that are hopping and swinging around and hang out with fellow travelers. If you have the good fortune of lodging with interesting and motivated people, you end up zip lining as much as possible and trekking deep into the jungle.

In the other tree house one of the guys could not handle living so high up and had to spend most of his time at base camp with the guides. The remaining three guys were all under the age of 22 and two of them were whiny Americans. I can say that because I am an American. On our second day we saw a new group head past us for some of the more distant tree houses. One of the ladies was over weight and got stuck in the middle of the zipline (you do need a small amount of physical strength as sometimes you do not make it to the end and have to pull yourself a few feet to the landing platform). She was clearly traumatized and had to go back to the base camp to do nothing for two days. Her husband continued on. My point is that the experience depends on having a good group as you have the jungle at your fingertips and do not need to have fellow travelers pointing out how lumpy the pillows are. Our group consisted of myself, two Canadian girls and a German and Austrian guy. Everyone was flexible, athletic and relaxed enough to embrace the zip lines and aged similarly 27-33. It was just a great group and our card games turned into nightly competitions.

The program is not fine tuned. Its still a work in progress, there are things that can be improved and from what I read about the program from a few years ago, you can tell things are getting a bit more organized. Food was not exactly deluxe, guides were far from informative, and the lack of any organized itinerary could piss off people who expect to learn things. I personally would have liked some more maps of the zip lines and trekking trails, but on the whole I loved the experience. Rough around the edges and complete freedom to choose your own adventure. If you are in Laos and you think this sounds interesting, just go, hope for sun, good people, and gibbons!

Ive been terrible about adding pics as I just cant make the time. But this guy's pics more or less show the story

The Gibbon Experience - Bokeo Nature Reserve, Northern Laos remains copyright of the author efstein, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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A quick note, Burma is in the midst of junta control. The regime has existed since the mid sixties, and the reports I have received are of religious and social oppression. The tribes I saw along the border in Thailand are emigrees who are left in a purgatory type position. They want nothing to do with Burma, but they have no real identity and certainly can not obtain Thai citizenship. The roads in the north are controlled by the Thai army, I went through many checkpoints. They do not care about me, they care about Burmese heading further into Thailand. The situation for these people is not great, but honestly, the villagers are really established towns and they have existed for generations for this has gone on for over fifty years now. Its just that they are more or less stuck in this little corner of the world with no real country to call home.

So I spent one day biking through the villages, trying to do the National Geographic photo op thing with villagers. I snuck in a kayaking trip down a swollen river, remember this is the rainy season. The great thing about this was the spontaneity. I wanted to visit this giant cave and I knew they held kayaking trips down the river which went into the cave and back out the other end. Not only was the river rapids more intense than anything I did in New Zealand, I was alone with a guide whose only word of english was 'paddle'. I doubt the 'company' had much insurance if you know what I mean, but alls well that ended well.

I also got lucky in that my weekend in Pai coincided with the end of the Buddhist three month Lent. Im not sure exactly what happens during those three months, but I know that certain monks must remain inside the temples and there are various restrictions on alcohol and food consumption. So the end is marked by a big street fair, I got to see free Muay Thai boxing, something I had regretted missing in Bangkok, and I got to see a giant beetles fight each other....dont ask, I have pictures.

Pai also brings a strange social element. It was filled with Thai nationals who vacation there, but also has a vibrant ex-pat and backpacker scene. The scene is strange in that its one of those towns where you end up developing packs and cliques. Lots of ex-pats own natural food shops or bars or herbal remedy stores and I got the sense that I was a stranger in their community. On some nights the conversation was easy and the mood was relaxed and all was well. On others, the bar scene was everyone sitting down around tables, subdued reggae playing, not exactly the best place to insert yourself into a conversation. I should add that Pai sits within an infamous opium trade around the burma border, and the effects of this location are evident within the ex-pat community.

Still, the overall impression of Pai is immensely positive. I would have stayed for many more days and will definitely be back. Its a beautiful place with a great mix of Thai culture along with the comforts of western civilization should you need them.

Pai remains copyright of the author efstein, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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With that lead in, I took the overnight train with Blake from Bangkok to Chaing Mai. We had by now discovered that in our heads we had very similar itineraries for the upcoming weeks. Unfortunately, by the time Ｉ boarded the train my immediate itinerary was finding away to 'break up' with my travel partner. He took it well, I think he could sense I was itching to get out on my own, so it was a fond farewell and we parted ways when we got off the train. He is a nice guy, an independent traveler, and its not as though he was holding me up or required a dependency that bothered me. Its just that we were looking for different experiences. Additionally, I got used to enjoying afternoons by myself reading a book at a restaurant or planning a walking tour of a new place. With Blake, an afternoon meal meant more redundant conversation where I would have preferred reading my book. I have traveled with a good friend of mine from home and it went great. I am not against traveling with people, its just that the odds of finding a backpacker on the road that gels with me is evidently hard.

But a great example of life without a travel partner occurred these past few days in Chaing Mai. Blake was heading to the first listing in Lonely Planet (sigh). I took a taxi into town. Ｉ ended up viewing several rooms before staying in Libra Guesthouse, a family run place with english speaking hosts in the old city, a neighborhood I had previously researched. As I was perusing the neighborhood that evening a guy in a local bar complimented my t-shirt, a new one Ｉ had just purchased in the Bangkok market. And just like that I met a group of Chaing Mai residents, both expat and local Thai who turned out to be my social companions for the next four days. These were not backpackers and the experience of meeting locals and/or permanent western residents is far and away different from going to the Lonely Planet touted hostel and making the usual small talk. Dinners, drinks, motorbike rides to neighborhoods I'd never have found on my own and stories about life in northern Thailand with these people are the types of experiences Ｉ enjoy because it is never sought out, it just happens.

Speaking of which, today, I awoke with the intention of getting a bus ticket to Chaing Khong, a border town and gateway to Laos. At the bus station I am told the tickets are sold out. Back to town, I am agitated. Ｉ love Chaing Mai, but with less than a month to go on this trip, a wasted day is a bitter pill to swallow. Ｉ head straight to a travel agency and book a minibus that will get me to Chaing Khong at two in the morning. More expensive and terrible time, but it gets the job done. The booking agent is a guy named Noi. I walk up to him at 1230 in the afternoon. He is passed out on a chair with no shirt on, and he has an impressive collection of tattoos. To me, the perfect guy to get me a ride out of town. We start talking and before I know it I spend the afternoon in a bar playing pool with him, he takes me on the back of his motorbike to the local thai only market for lunch, and I am given a Tibetan necklace as a memento of our day together. He is a great guy, a serious Buddhist, a former Muay Thai boxer, a father, and now, on most days, he is a hungover tourist agent.

This is what I will remember. Days of traveling with another guy from America, going to western bars and having the same conversation over and over again - where are you from?　Where are you going? How long have you been traveling? --- shoot me in the head, I dont need this conversation anymore

Mr. Blue, one of the characters I met in Chaing Mai advised me that the questions you can not ask on the road are the 'where are you going' where are you from varieties. Open ended questions, as all lawyers know, are much better if you want to get someone talking. Again, to each their own. There is no one way to travel, and no right way to travel. If my tone is condescending, I apologize, but its simply my attempt to celebrate what I enjoy on the road and should not be misconstrued as criticism of how others live out their travels.

The benefits of traveling alone remains copyright of the author efstein, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Ｔｈｅ　ｄｅｔａｉｌｓ　ｏｆ　ｍｙ　ｔｉｍｅ　ｔｈｅｒｅ　ａｒｅ　ｎｏｔ　ｒｅａｌｌｙ　ｔｈａｔ　ｉｍｐｏｒｔａｎｔ．　　The highs included going to the famed Sunday weekend market, the largest in Thailand, and finally learning how to navigate the city on the river ferries. By my last day there I was comfortable walking around various neighborhoods and I could get around confidently by taxi or ferry. Ｉ found the locals distant in a way that locals in big cities (NYC) can be distant from tourists, and really, Bangkok was enjoyable within the confines of the backpacker world that Koh Sahn provided. Blake and I　ｍｅｔ　ｓｏｍｅ　ｇｕｙｓ　ａｎｄ　ｇｉｒｌｓ　ｗｅ　ｈａｄ　ｐｒｅｖｉｏｕｓｌｙ　ｍｅｔ　ｏｎ　Ｋｏｈ　Ｐｈｉ　Ｐｈｉ，　ｓｏ　ｔｈｅｒｅ　ｗｅｒｅ　ｓｏｍｅ　ｓｏｃｉａｌ　ｅｖｅｎｉｎｇｓ．　　

Now that I have had the benefit of a week in the northern province city of Chaing Mai，　Ｉ can say that any future trips to Thailand will not emphasize Bangkok any more than Ｉ have to. I enjoyed Bangkok and would have stayed longer if I had the time I think you would need a long period of time there to truly begin enjoying the city, or a local to help your out. But even so, with the air pollution and general difficulties one encounters with all large cities combined with the benefits of traveling in the less visited north its just not worth it unless you have ample time.

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2. You think a country of Buddhists would be, I don't know, kind and calm. In chaing mai where I currently am, I've been humbled by the earnest kindness the locals have shown me. Yet if you go to the islands and Bangkok only you are greeted to -- generalizations such as -- liars, cheaters, and scam artists...all one big group, more prostitutes and the culture they create than you ever see in western society, and sadly a terrible disconnect between native Thais and foreigners. It was important for me to see that the whole country is not like that.

3. Things are cheap, apart from actual time to get here, whatever airfare cost you pay, the food, lodging, shopping discounts make Thailand cheaper than a Bahamas vacation.

4. New travel partner. So on a boat to one of the islands about 10 days ago, I met Blake. Blake is from Oklahoma, 27, and has been on the road for 8 months. He lives in Texas but tried his best not to carry himself as one of those Americans. We ended up sharing rooms for about 9 days on koh phi phi island and in Bangkok. Why this is worth mentioning is that I'm now quite certain that I simply can't travel with people, at least not with complete strangers I meet on the road. It is me, not them. While Blake and I parted harmoniously and although we had good nights and some fun over all, I ultimately feel as though I am forced to tolerate a fellow traveler when I decide to team up with someone. I want to walk that way, he wants to go another. He wants to stay out late, I want to go home. The key in these situations is to let each other do as they wish, Blake, despite being an experienced backpacker, still wanted a partner in crime with him at all times. I'm clearly not nearly as dependent on having someone to hold my hand, and thus I initiated a very awkward backpacker break up. Awkward because we both have the same itinerary the next few weeks so in theory we should have just kept going down the road together, but I needed some time to myself.

5. On a similar tangent, Blake represented a type of backpacker that thrives in Thailand and southeast asia - the frugal kind. In these countries you can easily eat three meals a day and find a bed to sleep in for about $15 a day. The food would mostly be street food or local thai cuisine and the beds would be in shabbier guesthouses with fans and not a.c. Its all well and good, and I mean, I am currently staying in $6 a night bungalows and try my best to eat locally as its much safer than eating the western cuisine which the Thais dont know how to cook as well. That being said, you can sleep with bedbugs and with a fan for $5 or sleep in a three star hotel with A.C. for $10. I often verge into what the traveler world calls a "flashpacker". Basically backpackers with more than shoestring budgets have spawned accommodations that are still backpacker hostel type places but now also have wifi or nice cafes and cleaner facilities. It became a problem with Blake, for where I see the benefit of spending three extra bucks for comfort, he sees the cheapest room as an easy way to save three dollars. One reason we are no longer traveling together.

6. The food here is amazing. All of my preconceived fears of peanut oil and peanuts in my pad thai are more or less unnecessary. Most places put peanuts as a condiment on the table. The street food and general locally thai restaurants provide roughly a dollar a plate for a nice portion of noodles or rice dishes. Its true that my diet is rather uniform as I choose what I know, but Ive really been enjoying the food here.

Thoughts on thailand remains copyright of the author efstein, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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With New Zealand and my time with Jess occupying most of the summer months I really had little to know idea about Thailand and have henceforth mainly winged it since I got here which has its merits and its disadvantages. The first disadvantage was that I went from Phuket airport to Patong for two nights. In Patong you witness a scene that probably plays out in various spots around southeast asia. Touristy hotels, streets packed with dirty bars, prostitutes outnumbering regular Thai women....if Dante were alive, Patong would probably fall somewhere in his 8th ring of Hell. My Thai friends back home advised me against going here, but it is an easy spot to immerse yourself into traveling around the islands. I spent two relatively quiet nights in Patong before heading about 10 kilometers south to the beach town of Kata. Much nicer, more upscale tourism, but ultimately everywhere on Phuket gave me the overwhelming feeling that I did not belong there. Sex tourists, European families, and honeymooners vacation on Phuket. Backpackers do not, and while I got in some nice beach days and rented a motorbike for an adventurous driving day around the island, the five nights on Phuket were not really ideal.

I say that because from Phuket I took a ferry 40 kilometers to Koh Phi Phi island (said Koh Pee - Pee). To be honest I did not hear great things about Phi Phi either. As you have about two dozen options when it comes to islands in southern Thailand you can more or less pick your poison. Partiers head some places, nomads go elsewhere, families, reggae stoners, divers, rock climbers, --- each island has its own specific attraction and over all vibe. Phi Phi is kind of a mixed bag of options.....you have the beach parties that go till dawn, you have diving, and there were quite a few family type areas also. The island is very small, and easily walked in a few hours. No cars and only one town add to the feeling that you are away from things. I came for two nights and ended up staying a week.

I thus missed the opportunity to go into the Gulf of Thailand to Ko Phang Yang the infamous full moon party island and the nearby chiller island of Koh Tao. But my feeling on Phi Phi was that I had everything I needed and my desire to relax and not move every day simply meant that I was going to sacrifice a few islands. Phi Phi is a special place, but its that much more special in my opinion in the off season. We are presently in the height of Thailand's rainy season which runs from June to October with the rain increasing toward the end. Lots of people questioned why I was coming this time of year, and before arriving I adopted the fatalistic attitude of just hoping for the best and expecting the worst.

Now that I'm here you realize that the monsoons you expect are really non-existent. Of my twelve days in the islands we had 3 non-beachable days, and by that I mean occassional rain all day and or clouds all day as well. All other days I saw the sun and most of them were downright beach days. It is true that the sky is clouded this time of year and even our clearest days had some clouds drifting in and out and a generally overcast sky was the norm. The sun was out but you do not get those picture postcard crystal clear days which make the tropical bays shine turquoise. If the very good but not great weather was the downside, the upside is no crowds and prices 1/3 of what they are in high season. I found Phi Phi busy, and could tell that in high season what seemed busy now would pale in comparison to what happens in December when everyone comes here. The parties were a little less rampant with most everyone on the island spreading out early in the night before converging on one or two beach bars for the midnight - 4 am final hours. Isrealis were the most predominant nationality which was unexpected.

And lastly, I stayed extra long because I chose to do my scuba diving certification course on Phi Phi. As I mentioned earlier, the dive operators on Koh Tao issue more certifications than anywhere in the world. Seemingly most backpackers and tourists go there to learn how to scuba. The Phi Phi people sold me on the idea that their operations allow you to see more and almost everyone I talked to confirmed this. I wont get into the specifics of the four day course, but can say that it was a worthwhile experience. I am not as naturally comfortable in water as I am hiking in the mountains, I struggle with swimming and still can't dive into a pool! Scuba really has nothing to do with swimming or surface diving, its much more about learning safety skills under water and then just controlling your breathing and staying calm but alert. My instructor was a 40 something ex-pat from California and was great throughout the process. After my first day of training at about 15 feet underwater my ear was really messed up and I had trouble sleeping as the pressure really got to me. I was forced to take a day off before I went out for my first dives. You need to complete a fifty question test, four dives, reach 18 meters (55 approx feet), and perform about twenty skills to get certified. In the end it was'nt all that difficult. I really enjoyed diving and hope to continue building it as a hobby.

The biggest disappointment and first real mistake I made was with the diving company I chose. There are probably three dozen companies on Phi Phi, all promising the same thing and offering a fixed rate for the course. I was talked into doing the course on Phi Phi by a laid back guy at one of the lesser known shops, and ultimately went with one of the larger shops whose exterior facade just seemed more professional. Turns out, the week of my course, our companies main dive boat broke. Of the dive sites around Phi Phi, the most famous one is called Bida Nok. The promise of seeing harmless black tip reef sharks and leapord sharks is why people dive at Phi Phi. Well my terrible choice cost me the opportunity of going to this site because the company's secondary boat was too weak to navigate the channel. I gave the owner a mouthful and demanded a reduced rate, I got a free t-shirt and the unfortunate obligation to write negative reviews to Lonely Planet, Rough Guide, and other online information sources panning the company I chose.

After the course and after seven nights of constant socializing I was ready to leave the islands. I bought a plane ticket to Bangkok via Phuket for about 70 bucks the day before the flight. Check my next post for general thoughts on Thailand, and I'll summarize Bangkok shortly.

Thailand....two weeks in the southern islands remains copyright of the author efstein, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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I also was very happy with the length of my trip. I could have stayed longer, and I regret missing various places or rushing through others. However, New Zealand is ultimately a somewhat one dimensional place. As I have written before, you do not go to the country to see its museums or learn its history or eat its food. All of these things are pleasant enough as is the act of meeting and socializing with the locals, but in the end you stay in New Zealand for long periods of time because of an affinity for the outdoors and the uniquely compact nature of the country which allows you to skirt from oceans to mountains, from caves and gorges to temperate rainforests and volcanos all within a days drive of each other. If you want to live amongst these natural wonders, its not hard to get stuck in New Zealand forever. I was happy to spent ten weeks climbing, skiing, hiking, rafting, kayaking and generally experiencing the New Zealand outdoors. I think I ended up hiking over a hundred miles and skiing 14 days. At a different stage in life, I can see myself staying longer much longer, but for now I was content with what I saw and what I did.

Final Thoughts on New Zealand remains copyright of the author efstein, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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And off we were again, I have to compliment Jess. Coming so far to see me, and then going even further with me....three hours of flying time followed by an hour drive in our rental car got us just north of the resort town of Port Douglas, on the far northeast coast of Australia. We were staying at a resort called Mai Tai, which I can compliment myself for finding. Its marketed as a Balinese themed retreat in the mountains outside of Port Douglas. The owners, Andre and Anthony, are a gay couple in their late 40s. Each day they had an amazing breakfast for us, plus we were always in the company of their two mountain dogs. Additionally, two of our four nights there, we were the only guests. The place only has four rooms and its very much secluded and decked out with outdoor showers and an asian themed room. Jess and I both loved it, and for me it was definitely a change from new zealand hostels.
Our time in the area alternated between lounging around Port Douglas and going on arranged day tours. We went on a supposed 'rainforest tour', but I soon realized just why I avoided the 'tours' in the first place during my time in New Zealand. Now its true, we both agreeded after the fact that we did learn a few things, and we did have a fun day altogether, but for the price, and taken as a whole the tour was a bit weak. Highlights for me were going sea kayaking where Jess saw a sea turtle. I did not have my glasses on so I thought it was a seal. We also went on a crocodile river boat, where after an hour of not seeing any crocodiles we saw a real one swimming very close by.
Our other planned day took us to the Great Barrier Reef. In short, the hype we had heard about snorkeling the reef lived up to expectations. We had a top ten day weatherwise with clear skies and low wind. I had never snorkeled before, so after the obligatory five minute freakout where I couldnt get my breathing down and Jess laughing at me, things went smoothly. We took a smaller tour that went further out on the reef and took us to three different sites. Just a great day.
The Port Douglas community kind of grows old. We certainly could have wasted a few more days there lying on the beach and doing another reef tour, but Jess wanted to see more of the country and I obviously had no problem putting a few miles on our rental car. So with that we spent one day travelling through the Atherton Tablelands. A rainforest-rolling farmland-desert area that constitutes the land about fifty miles inland from the coast. We had a great day on the road stopping at small towns, coffee shops, and waterfalls before arriving at our final destination, Mission Beach.
Mission Beach is more of a sleepy beach bum town compared to the ritzy vibe of Port Douglas. There is only one ATM and a few bars mixed in with some cafes. Its basically a very, very quiet beach town. We read that its a nice place to relax and it certainly was. We divided our time at Mission Beach between lying on the beach, something we actually had not made time to do up at Port Douglas and hiking, something Jess new I'd force her into, and something she, not being as keen on the outdoors as I, handled amazingly. To put our hike in perspective, I hiked roughly 100 miles in New Zealand and the most wildlife I saw fell in the birdlife category. I hiked for thirty minutes with Jess and we saw wallabies (small kangaroos), a three foot long Monitor Dragon, and last but certainly not least, a Cassowary. Now Cassowaries are indeed birds, but they are the size of a human and stand upright like an emu or ostrich and are aggressive and are known to attack humans with a talon on their foot. They are almost extinct and although sign postings all over Mission Beach warn drivers to be alert for the birds, sightings are rare. I'm breezing along the trail when I see a big freaking bird around the bend. Jess stayed behind me, and I more or less kept my distance and to my extreme displeasure failed to get a quality picture. Nevertheless, we saw one and it was a highlight.
Our final day was spent in Cairns city. A real sad place if you ask me. Its kind of got a Florida vibe with hotels lining the waterfront and some nice walkways near the water, but five blocks inland the city turns to vacant lots and low class establishments. In the end, we ate an amazing meal in Cairns and there is certainly enough to keep the passing traveller occupied for a day or so in the city, but we both were happy that we didn't base ourselves in the city. And with that our trip was over. We flew to Sydney and parted in the airport. Im happy Jess came and prompted me into spending a decent amount of time in Australia. I found the people extremely friendly and the country itself amazingly expansive.

Australia! remains copyright of the author efstein, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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If you read the previous post it should be evident that I began my return to the road after a break in Wanaka with unplanned and unmotivated travels. Yes I was a under the weather and the weather itself was terrible, and yes, I did not really have any agenda, so while I actually turned a downer of a situation into an amazing time in Karamea, the week itself was ultimately lackluster.

On last Sunday I was in Karamea with six days left before my departure to Sydney. The forecast was for a severe storm to roll into the west coast and I knew Sunday into Monday would be a wash. The question this presented was whether to lay low in Karamea, play chess, listen to music, hang around with our in-house artist, and more or less bum away another day in the rain, or alternatively, travel 300 kilometers over Arthur's Pass which cuts through the Southern Alps and get to central Canterbury for a few more days of exploring in the Alps.

In a way, laying low in Karamea motivated me to get out of there. I had just about killed my head cold and although I knew the storm would limit the amazing views you get when driving over Arthur's Pass I figured a rainy day is better spent in the car then sitting around the lodge. So I drove about six hours on Sunday through torrential rain to get to Springfield which lies about 35 miles beyond the pass in the central part of the south island. This area is very strange. You would think that the foothills leading up to the Alps would be dotted with pleasent little mountain villages to cater to the Christchurch weekend warriors escaping to the mountains or for the backpackers who wanted to explore this regional section of the Alps. Instead this area of the country is amazingly de-void of any real town. Springfield has a pub, a few lodges, a cafe, a dinky grocery store and the last gas station for 100 kilometers. After Springfield its the mountains, and to the west you have to travel 30 kilometers to find any semblence of a town to get real provisions. In a word, its isolated.

I arrived late Sunday, went to bed and awoke to find two things out - 1. the mountains had just received about a foot of snow and, snow was forecast for Monday into Tuesday, and 2. I had to drive 30 kilometers to find the closest ski shop to hire out gear. So Monday I did a hike in the morning and get my ski gear and food provisions for a few days in the afternoon. I also met Gareth, a Sydney guy, who was spending the entire winter in New Zealand chasing powder. He was a great person to have around, as he would get up around 7 am, go online and read every mountain report, the weather forecast, wind conditions, road conditions, etc. He had already looped around the ski fields in August and had a good sense of where the best snow would be.

The plan at this point was to ski Tuesday and Wednesday and return my car to Christchurch and relax in the city Thursday and Friday before flying out Saturday, this was not quite what happened. We awoke Tuesday to find all of the local mountains 'on hold' due to wind and snow throughout the day. The same mountains were closed Monday due to blizzard conditions, so everyone was itching to get up and see how much snow was up there. Disappointment reigned supreme. Then Gareth mentioned to me that Broken River, one of the top ski fields in the area would be having night skiing and that he was going. I have not skied at night since around 1995. Its usually something I associate with amateurish or youthful crowds, as you never really have much skiable terrain lit and apart from the novelty of skiing at night, its inherenly better to ski, you know, when you can see what's around you.
With that said, I figured this would be an adventure, and boy was I right.

Broken River is a club field. Club fields in New Zealand are non-profit privately owned mountains that offer very few, if any of the amenities most of us would expect at a ski mountain. No chairlifts, no groomed runs, no employees, no lodge with a warm fire, no shuttle buses or nice big parking lots for your car. Club fields are for people who want to earn their turns. To get to the top of Broken River I had to park my car at the highway, hitchhike up with someone with a four wheel car, affix chains to their wheels about halfway up, take what is called an inclinator (which is basically a train track up a steep mountain with a box car being pulled up the track, often seen in European towns) from the car park to the ticket office, walk twenty minutes up the mountain from the ticket office to the first rope tow, and then go through the most humbling experience of the trip, which was learning how to use a nutcracker to grasp the rope tow and get up the freaking mountain. All of this was done at night, in a raging snow storm with about 50 other people. The nutcracker is what it sounds like. Its basically a clamp. You move your poles to one arm, grasp the moving rope with the other, and when moving with the rope you flick the clamp with your other arm over the rope so that you can clamp on the rope. This procedure most be completed in about 5 seconds before the rope goes through the first pulley as you need the nutcracker in place before the you get to the pulley to avoid crushing your hand. I would often fail to get the nutcracker in place in time and be forced to let go and rejoin the queue.

So Im up there at the tow with a bunch of locals, and it takes me a few tries to get this nutcracker thing going. Meanwhile, the snow is amazing. Untouched, shin deep, and falling the whole time with only five dozen of us up there skiing on it. Yes, I needed to stick with people because nothings marked and you could ski right off a cliff if you don't know where your going, but it only added to the allure of the whole night. My beard was snow covered and frozen by 10 pm when they turned the tow off.

The next day we awake to find that all the snow hasdput the mountains on hold again....grrrrr. Your group had know expanded to myself, Gareth, and two brothers from Utah Ben and Shaun, both big time skiers. Finally at 11 we see that Craigeburn has opened for the day. Craigeburn has the reputation for being the toughest mountain in New Zealand - no beginner trails, and 3 rope tows that get you 1500 meters worth of vertical in a very quick time, with steep terrain everywhere. Now I had somewhat felt better with the nutcracker but had now realized that my ability to board a tow depended on the incline and speed of the tow. The day was great with the wind blowing the powder into gullies which allowed us to have fresh tracks each time down the mountain. Its true much of the mountain was closed for avalanche and wind issues, but the main front face was open and it had a ton of snow on it. Good day.

But still, I had only gotten two half-days really and wanted more considering the snow quality and the fact that I had nowhere to really be. Thus, with Gareth's insistence the four of us decided to head to Mt. Olympus on day three. Mt. Olympus is about an hour further from Springfield from Craigeburn and Broken River. Its access requires 20 miles of driving on an unpaved treacherous mountain road, followed by a chains only four wheel drive access road for two kilometers. Not only were we not sure about taking our rental cars on the 20 mile road, we had no way of getting to the top from the parking lot.....of course we knew we'd be able to hitchhike. The drive up was a lot of fun, we ended up with a crew of 5, and needed four cars as we were all heading in different directions at the end of the day, so we had a caravan of beat up, compact rental cars going back country driving at 7AM. The goal, Mt. Olympus, because it had remained closed for the prior three days due to the fact the final 2 kilometers to the base were snowed in. A bulldozer cleared the mountain road the night before and with chains in place we all got a ride up in various 4 wheel drive vehicles. I was not disappointed. When we finally got to the top of Mt. Olympus, we had the full mountain open, with about a foot of untouched snow waiting for us. Easily the best snow conditions of the 14 ski days I got. Of course, these club fields bring the experience factor along with the basic fun of skiing. In terms of actual skiing, I did only a fraction of what I would normally do on a day in Colorado or Vermont as the tow ropes do not give you long runs, and the use of the tow ropes makes for exhausting days that tire you out quicker. Less skiing, but the skiing you get is top notch.

After my day at Mt. Olympus I drove like a bandit to Christchurch to get my car returned 10 minutes before the rental car place was due to close for the day. From there I had the wonderful fortune of meeting Simon, a family friend, who had advised my parents that he and his wife would be happy to host me for my final 2 days in New Zealand. I was a bit worried, as I admittedly was coming off of three days of skiing and 10 weeks of backpacking, my appearance would to put it lightly, upset some people. Luckily, Simon and his wife were just wonderful in every way. Simon is an ex-pat from Connecticut and his wife Wendy is a native Kiwi. They met years ago due to a shared passion for rock climbing and skiing, so it goes without saying that they were more than understanding and down right appreciative of my efforts in the club fields the previous few days. They were just wonderful hosts and we talked a lot about outdoor climbing. So after arriving Thursday evening, I spent Friday relaxing in the quaint, Oxford Englandesque city of Christchurch before flying bright and early Saturday morning to Sydney to meet Jess.

Final thoughts on New Zealand to follow.

Craigeburn and Broken River remains copyright of the author efstein, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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I escaped Franz Josef and drove another 200 kilometers further north to the art town of Hokitika, and from there to a coastal tourist attraction called the "Pancake Rocks". I limestone creation of strange rocks formed after centuries of sea waves battering the coast. The weather this far north is more pleasant as the Alps vanish, and the storms can come off the coast and pass right over across the island. I found my way to this lodge, and struck gold by getting a night by myself in a self contained house in the rainforest just minutes from the ocean.

I awoke the next morning and vowed to push further north. I had to make some decisions at this point as I have about 6 days left before I arrive in Christchurch. North of the Pancake Rocks is the first real town of any kind on the west coast, Greymouth. Not a desirable place to stay, but an important transit hub with roads leading further north along the coast, and two other leading inland over the Alps. I chose to go further north and in fact, ended up driving the furthest anyone can drive up the coast to the town of Karamea. This place is 100 kilometers from the closest real town, and its not 100 easy kilometers. This place is separated from the rest of the coastline by a winding mountain road that twists through rainforest before depositing you in this little hamlet of a town. To go further north is only possible on foot. And of course, what do you find in a place like this other than a lodge such as this. Yup, its painted rainbow colors. Rongo Backpackers is foremost a travellers' lodge but also serves as an artist commune, organic farm, and best of all radio station. During the summer there are nightly bonfires but during the winter there is just me and the staff. Yup, I am the only person here the last two nights. My companions are a Parisian guy who has been living here for 10 months, a Japanese artist who is working on his latest pieces for an upcoming show and two Kiwis both of whom are, how shall I say this - are a bit lost. Actually one of them is a champion chess player. I have played about ten games of chess between my days in Wanaka and up here and I gotta say, its a great game. I have lost every game I have played, but this guy is good, like he is seriously very good. I caught him playing a game against himself the other day. I had a great day today, with temperatures in the mid 60s and some good day hiking. The lodge is filled with art and the radio station is the only station this side of the rainforest and plays music 24 hours a day. I DJed for 2 hours off my Ipod, its open to everyone who stays here and I had a kick getting to play some music for the 3 people and 1000 cows that are listening around these parts.

The takeaway is that Karamea is just what I needed. Back on my own, back in a beautiful and completely quiet area, and at a lodge that is empty apart from me. Yes it may be strange that Im spending my last weekend in New Zealand off the grid, but this country is best appreciated away from civilization. Its that simple. I may or may not stay here another few nights and bypass any opportunity to ski, depends on the weather.

Back to the middle of nowhere remains copyright of the author efstein, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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The Wanaka leg of the trip has been wonderful. The whole atmosphere of this town falls nicely in between up and coming tourist town and remote, beautifully situated, local community. It does not have the build up of neighboring Queenstown and yet has just enough in terms of restaurants, cafes, and bars to keep me comfortable for my three weeks here. I'll give you guys a quick hit list of the people and general things that I've experienced the past three weeks.

General points -

A few things have happened in Wanaka that are side notes but worthy of mentioning. Now that I've stopped moving for three weeks I have picked up some bad or good habits (depending on your POV) that are lost when you are seriously backpacking every day. First, Chief among these is going out and drinking. Wanaka has a few great bars and one very fun club. With the friends I met over the three weeks here, the wine was flowing in ways it just did not when I was on the road. Second, I have had wifi in my lodge and I've had my iphone to play with. The simple ability to roll over in bed and check your email is something I think most Americans now know as commonplace reality, and it really was very nice not having this ability for the last six weeks. Its a love/hate thing, point is, Ive had the internet back on my fingertips, for better or worse. Book reading has taken a hit, largely because, you know, Ive had people to talk to. I finished a short story collection of Dosteovsky and am now back to Le Carre spy novels....midway through his masterpiece "A Perfect Spy".

People[b]

Well there was the Matterhorn crew. Apart from the natural revolving door feel of people who spend the normal 1-3 nights there were six or so people who were at the lodge when I arrived and are still there now.
Heath - an American guy from Vermont who is skiing down here for the season. Great skier and nice guy, who volunteers at the mountain for a free season pass. His home mountain is Jay Peak so hopefully I'll see him up there.

Sophie - a brit who is a children's ski instructor at Treble Cone. She is 30 and just got married, her and her husband are indefinitely staying in New Zealand. Its nice to have the older people around, as it makes me feel a bit less weird having late 20s and 30 something backpackers to talk to.

German girls - Isabel, Tabia, and Kristina - germans are an interesting breed, as I'll get into some more below. These girls are backpacking around and got stuck in Wanaka where they worked for free accommodation at the lodge the last five weeks. It took awhile to actually get to know them, but they were all very nice and became integral parts of our communal dinners as their German food was quite good. They also helped facilitate many of our drinking nights.

Melissa - a young French-Canadian from Montreal who came down to snowboard for the season. She arrived almost the same day as me and we hung out with Sophie and Heath for many dinners.

Apart from this crew we'd have good people stop in for 4 or 5 nights who would inevitable join forces with us. I wont deny that staying in the lodge for an extended period of time gives you that seniority feeling that comes with any territory that you 'feel' like you kind of have rights to. People obviously realized that we were the long-timers, which is inherently a dorky thing to say, but it was nice to have a little clique. This weekend I am leaving, the Germans left yesterday and Sophie is out in one week. Backpacking cliques are not meant to last.

Peter and Donna - The new managers of the lodge are worth a quick mention. Peter is 45, and has 2 foot long dreadlocks, Donna is his new wife (both second marriages). They are extremely nice people who, if I had to guess, are using this lodge as kind of a new adventure for both of them as a means of starting out a new life together. Peter is the quieter one, who works as a builder in town and is an ex-pat Brit, who has lived in NZ for 15 years. Donna strikes me as a partier. I mean, they both still put down a few bottles here and there, and its just nice to see them together and putting all of their energy into re-vitalizing the lodge.

Max the German - Max is a younger guy who stopped into the lodge about two weeks ago. He looks like one of the Aryan henchman you'd see in James Bond film, cast as the main villian's muscular body guard. I can make a joke about the Third Reich, but it would probably be in bad taste, so I'll just paint this picture. He is a mountaineer and a cyclist who, when we met, was 700 kilometers into a 2,500 kilometer bike trip around the south island. Yea, the kid is biking around the mountains down here, doing about 7 hours a day on the road. He inserted himself into our little group at the lodge and before I knew it he had invited himself to come skiing with me the following day. Turned out to be great, as he kept up admirably and we had a good day skiing the back country which is best done with someone else. What I kept thinking was how Max the German was really the person I wish I had met to be my travel partner. He is a serious mountaineer and had summited a few mountains I wish I had done on the North Island. Of course, he had a partner to the climbs with, which I never found. Instead I got Ryan the Jew, who if you read back a few posts was about as far from a german aryan muscular sports guy as possible.

Fitz and one-armed Peter - This is a good one. I met Fitz and one-armed Peter on the Saddle Chair at Treble Cone. Fitz is 64, sports a poorly trimmed mustache, and talks to you as if you've known him your entire life. By this I mean, he'll reference his buddies and places and things he's done even though I have no idea who or where he's talking about. He lives in Utah, and skis Snowbird and Alta 130 days out of the year. He is the quintessential life long ski bum. He moved from Maine to go to Vail University in the last 60s, bought some property, and has lived off those investments the rest of his life. All he lives to do is ski, and in the last ten years he has become a ski racer on the elder circuit, which is how he met Peter, while he was racing in NZ.

Peter is a Kiwi and has one-arm, due to a car accident when he was two. What he lacks in appendages he makes up for in money. He and his wife own New Zealand's most successful sushi chain restaurant. He is an adventurer and life long skier who races in the handicap races.

So I met these two guys on the chair, Fitz starts talking incoherently about skiing in Utah, he realizes I am an American and as we get off the chair, Fitz is still talking so they invite me to do a run with them. Two hours later, and I've skied all afternoon with these two guys in their sixties and really am not quite sure what to make of either of them. Peter is about to call it a day, so they invite me back to Peter's Porsche Cayenne (the Porsche sport utiilty vehicle), for a few beers before heading back to Wanaka. I oblige, figuring I can bypass a few runs for this experience. I got to the Porsche we unload our gear, and Peter opens up his cooler filled with Heineken's and wine. It dawns on me that Peter is an important fellow as we end up going into Treble Cone's front office and having a beer with the mountain director. It also turns out that not only is Peter a millionaire, one-armed skier, he also happens to have a drinking problem. One thing leads to another, and Im back at Pete's mansion in Wanaka where I hang out with Fitz before heading back to the lodge for dinner. The takeaway from the whole thing is that Peter is a millionaire who likes doing this stuff. He tells me that he loves meeting the travelers in Wanaka and showing them a good time. Yes, its a bit strange that I met a one-armed old guy who in the course of an afternoon decides to go on a bender with me, but apparently, he does this thing often. Fitz was the strange guy who has seen just a few too many sunrises through bloodshot eyes, and can't stop talking about that epic powder day he got in 1984. Point is, good times were had.

There were many other people that made the time in Wanaka memorable. As for the total take away, I wanted to spend time in a ski town because I regret never having lived a full winter on a mountain. In the end, the feeling I now have departing Wanaka is that three weeks is not enough, a full season may not be enough, and ultimately when I see people like Fitz I pause and wonder if I can do it, if I could just live in the middle of nowhere and ski forever. Despite the fact that I am like a pig in shit whenever I am skiing I still do not think I could handle the isolation. Even Wanaka which has its array of culture, bored me after awhile. I can't really answer the question that I pose. I love it out in the mountains, and really could delete the rest of my itinerary and just stay here for another four weeks, but at the same time, I do not really want to be Fitz in 30 years.

A last note on photos, I have been waiting to fill my 2GB memory card before burning pics to a CD, which only then allows me to post them online. Since I have had very little to shoot apart from the town and the ski mountain, pics are going to have to wait. They'll be up soon.

People and stories remains copyright of the author efstein, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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With that said, the stopping is a strange phenomenon. Ultimately, it has made me thankful that the once proposed idea of living in New Zealand and working here never came to fruition. Its not that I could not live here, its just that the stationary aspect of 'living' rather than 'traveling', now that I have experienced both, is not really what I was prepared to do. I am happy to have days here to rest and do nothing, days to just sit by the lake and take in the whole place. Perhaps it would be different if I was employed in some capacity down here but ultimately, the daily adventure that is backpacking, the planning, pushing yourself to see more and go further, brings about a natural high that the stationary life of working and living in one place, even if that place is 14,000 miles from home, fails to do. I am already itching to move on, and have picked up the guide book and begun planning the next stage of the journey to fill the free time I have here in Wanaka.

Onto some observations and updates about living down here.

1. The skiing[u] Oh boy. I guess I am thankful that I have had years and years of ski trips dampered by weather, years of impending snow storms ruined by a nice coating of rain, years of mid-February thaws to coincide with my week in Colorado because it makes what has happened down here much easier to laugh away as a simple fact all skiers and boarders acknowledge - you can't control the weather. If you recall I did have about 4 days down here that rivaled in various ways the best conditions I had ever had (kinda). About a week after my arrival, the freezing level rose to about 2000 meters (not good) and a storm rolled in dumping about 14 inches at the top of Treble Cone and rain at the base. For the next day or so the conditions were tolerable with wet, heavy snow that had yet to freeze meaning you could basically just bomb down everything on the mountain as it was soft, almost too soft. Unfortunately, immediately following this storm, the entire area saw a warm up that the locals say normally does not occur until September. Think highs in the mid to upper 50s lows in the 40s. The effect this has on a purely above-treeline mountain is it de-thaws the entire base. More than 2/3rds of the mountain has been shut for the last week due to extremely high avalanche concern. Basically one wrong turn on the base could trigger the entire winter's snowfall careening down the mountain. Already 3 heli-skiers have died in the area due to avalanches, so the warm up is dangerous and just shitty. All of what I would deem the interesting and challenging parts of Treble Cone have been closed. I am taking it all in stride. We had a cold front move in tonight and the entire mountain was briefly open all morning today. The snow is strange, in parts its a sugary and fun but heavy, in other parts its a crust that is impossible to turn in. I would be pissed if I was here for a two week ski vacation, but the nice thing about long term travel is that hiccups like this can never fully take the wind out of one's sails. And as I previously mentioned, I have quite a bit of experience with shit weather on ski trips....I'm still going to get in more than 10 ski days in the middle of August.

2. Chairlift conversations and Hitchhiking[u]. Both activities have provided the most fertile grounds for good conversations with locals and other vacationers down here. On the lifts I see largely Australian tourists, but its a total mix of Europeans, Canadians and astonishingly a few Americans as well. In fact Wanaka has a high concentration of Americans, mostly west coast, doing the double winter thing and heading back to the Rockies so ski back home in a few months. The only real negative on hitching is that it costs me about 30 minutes in the morning to hike over to the spot and wait a few minutes for a ride. The idea of giving out rides here is linked both to an eco-consciousness and to a general local townie friendliness. Locals feel as though they are supporting the 'green' culture of the area by helping people up the mountain and thereby reducing emissions. Vacationers pick up more for the conversation. Either way, the activity has netted me conversations with an array of personalities - chefs, financial analysts, mountain guides, lawyers, retirees, and on and on, just a different cross section of society each day.

I'l add more to the next update....

Observations and updates I remains copyright of the author efstein, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Wanaka sits on the shores of lake Wanaka, the fourth largest lake in New Zealand (about 30 square miles). It also sits within the boundaries of Mt. Aspiring National Park which is home to hundreds of miles of hiking, back country skiing and two of the premier skiing areas on the south island - Cardrona and Treble Cone. The town is about 3 square blocks which are dotted primarily with real estate agents, ski shops, cafes, and lowkey restaurants. The locals have kept the town generally quaint, despite the town's obvious reliance on tourism. There is money here, but its not flashy. The town center runs right up to the lake and one can snake their way through the entire town center in about 20 minutes. The locals are all outdoors driven and the central theme is one of getting out into the mountains or biking, hiking around the lake.

I am staying in the Matterhorn Lodge, which needs a moments discussion. The thing is, Wanaka, is famous for having some of the most pleasant backpackers' accomodations in the entire country. Several lodges receive some of the highest rankings in the country. The Matterhorn is not one of them. If you go to a general review site for backpackers you come to stuff like this, yikes, the reviews are really terrible, and I rightly booked a few nights at the Matterhorn only because the more famous places are hard to get into during peak season. Well since I arrived I have cancelled all of my other bookings at the more famous hostels because of what has happened at the Matterhorn. Only 4 weeks before I arrived a couple took over for the previous managers. The place is now a warm, friendly, lodge catering to older backpackers, long term seasonal employees, and well, it has a newly installed hot tub. At $15 US a night, I am no longer in a hurry to leave. Their are communal dinners and I have met several people who will remain with me the entire time I am in Wanaka, plus I have a few ski partners which is nice.

As for the skiing, I'll start with the good. Treble Cone is, as I was told repeatedly by the locals, the largest and most challenging of all the ski mountains on the south island. I arrived on the heals of 85 centimeters of snow and was told that the conditions were not only best of the season, but arguably the best in a few seasons. Indeed the three days I have skied have netted me several amazing runs with deep untouched snow. I have had to work for it as Treble Cone's back country, its best, hardest and usually untouched areas require hiking. On my first day I hiked twice and received two runs in untouched 8-12 inches of snow. These areas had been closed due to avalanche control, and I was fortunate to be skiing on the day they were opened. So all in all, I have been very lucky and have had a great time at Treble Cone. The lifts are fast, and the relative lack of vertical - about 2,000 feet means that you can tire yourself out quickly....also most of the runs are ungroomed, so the terrain is a mixture of bumps, chutes, and wind blown runs. The snow was great, but quickly got a bit harder so the skiing is better in the afternoon when temperatures warm up to the upper 30s. Its not cold here at all, Ive been skiing in a base layer, fleece, and rain jacket, which serves as my unfashionable outer layer.

I basically space out my ski days so that I'll ski every other day. Days off are spent reading, writing, and relaxing. I know, a tough life I have chosen. I have found my favorite coffee shop, and really, its so warm in town that sitting outside is usually comfortable.

Now to qualify it all. The ski areas here are small, much smaller than you'd expect looking at the size of the mountains. The fact is that New Zealand really does not receive a lot of snow coverage, that is to say, its mountains reach about 6,000 -7,000 feet and the snow line is often as high as 4,000 feet. This means that the skiable vertical is quite small. Add to that the lack of infrastructure and you get Treble Cone, which as the largest mountain, is only accessible by a scary dirt road that switchbacks up to the mountain on a steep dirt road, and once at the mountain you have two lifts....just two. The mountain is all above tree line, so the runs are really not runs at all as much as areas as you can basically ski anywhere on the entire mountain. Yes, it is steep, perhaps as steep as Colorado and certainly steeper than most of Vermont, but when you have such wide bowls and a completely open mountain face it does not feel that steep for if you lose an edge or can't make a turn, you can bail out at anytime. The chutes and back country are difficult, but Aspen has proven itself a much harder mountain. The snow is more like east coast snow because of its higher water concentration. It rains in Wanaka and Treble Cone just barely beats out the rain snow line, so a powder day here is not like a powder day in Utah. There are many good skiers here and the terrain itself is not easy. That is to say, there are few groomed runs and the pitch to the entire mountain is what we'd deem a blue run in the states, beginners do not ski here. I have a ten day pass at TC, and am excited to continue to explore the mountain as it really is much better than most things back east and offers a new take on above tree line skiing, but I would never advise someone to travel here just to ski versus going to the western US or Canadian areas.

In other random notes, I have (hold your breath) hitch hiked every day to get to the mountain. I returned my car in Queenstown and have naturally felt limited without it. That being said, the hitch hiking routine here is amazing, with a line up in the morning in a specific area and extremely short waits. I have had rides up with the chief of police here in Wanaka, the local doctor, and several other friendly vacationers. Its been a great way to meet the locals, and despite the misgivings of most of my readers, its if not encouraged, a very reliable and accepted means to get to the mountains. Buses in town charge 30 dollars for the roundtrip which is essentially a rip off.

My knee makes me feel like an old man. I had a great ride down from TC with the town doctor who knew exactly what was wrong with me. Yes, the knee has held up great skiing as the stressed area is due to walking and apparently is mostly unaffected by the motions I make while skiing. It all basically has to do with me not stretching and just not resting it. I still am unsure about my ability to do long hikes, but I have little intention of doing any hiking. As long as I am able to ski, I am fine. Its true that hiking out of the back country has been difficult, but its easily the best part of skiing at Treble Cone, so with a knee brace, painkillers, and joint cream applications, I am making the best of it.

The road to Milford Sound which was closed for a week before I went there is now closed again and has been for several days due to an avalanche that dropped over 20 meters of snow over the access road. The few residents who lived at Milford, mainly to run the kayaking and tourist boats were air-lifted out. Just goes to show you that I was extremely lucky to get in there when I did.

As for the future, I have met a great couple at the Matterhorn who are living at Franz Joseph glacier which is up the west coast. I plan on visiting them and spending about 10 days at the end of the month to travel north along the west coast and then across the island to Christchurch. I fly to Sydney to meet Jess on September 5th (labor day weekend) in the states, and we will head up to Cairns and the Great Barrier Reef areas of Queensland, Australia...the planning is in the works.

Skiing the Southern Alps remains copyright of the author efstein, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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I should add that while there is an element of skill required to do these hikes in the winter, the trails themselves are designed for the masses and just about anyone of moderate fitness could do them. The hike up the mountain was a gradual 2,600 foot climb, which was pretty exhausting with a 50lb pack on my back. I got up to the hut around 3pm in a slight rain/snow storm. I had brought with me too much clothing, along with a gas cooker, sleeping bag, and a good amount of food. The hut is actually quite nice, with a nice indoor wooden stove. In winter the only utilities we had were cold running water, so it was candles and a lot of boiling water for the evening. I shared the hut with three frenchmen, probably about my age. It was nice to have a few people there. The sunrise was amazing, but it was apparent that we had a storm rolling in, so I spent the hour hike from the hut back to the tree line in a small snow storm. In the end, it was great. I wanted to get a hike into some alpine territory and this definitely worked. It would have been nice to cross the ridgeline and complete the full circuit, but as it stood, I climbed 2,600 feet and hiked 28 kilometers and was fully exhausted when I got back to the car park.

The epilogue from the Kepler Trail is that my knee, still strained from the Tongariro Crossing three weeks ago, has not been well rested and was easily the most aggravated than its been after Kepler. The good thing is that I was heading for about 7-10 days of full rest. I threw Ryan a bone and consented to bypassing our final destination of Queenstown to head into the Central Otago valley for two days of yuppy wine tasting. Central Otago lies to the east of the Fjords and just over the southern alps ridgelines, so its a protected area that is best known for its Pino Noirs. I let Ryan run the show, we had some nice weather, and personally I needed a few days of sitting around eating and drinking rather than climbing mountains.

On Friday we rolled into Queenstown. For those who do not know, this was my original destination when New Zealand travels became a possibility. Its a little haven of a town nestled on the tip of the Southern Alps and along side Lake Wakatipu. Analogies can be drawn to the beauty of Lake Louise in Canada with the bustle and tourism wealth of Aspen, Colorado. Additionaly, Queenstown is the mecca of 'adventure' sports. Bungee jumping was invited here and the main streets are lined with booking offices where you can spend about $100 to sign up for bungee jumping, skydiving, canyoning, heli-skiing, mountain climbing, jetboating, or various other adreneline pushing activities. The town is fighting the good fight against over-development, but seems to be losing. Its a hodge podge of backpackers, mostly from the UK, and mostly here to party, mixed with vacationers from Australia and the far east who are here to ski and spend money. So you have the nightly bar scene mixed with some nice restaurants and a lot of pricey shopping areas. I have been content to read my books and sit in coffee houses as I am trying to figure out what the cost of ski gear and ski tickets will run me. We have had two significant snow storms in the mountains this week, and the ski hills look to be in good shape.

My plan is to switch towns and move to a place called Wanaka, which is about an hour from Queenstown and acts as the service town for two mountains that are considered the best in the area. Additionally, Queenstown is a bit of an amateur area. Its true I have yet to see any action on the mountains, but my sense is that most people in Queenstown go to the mountains as an introduction to mountain sports. Wanaka is much smaller and caters to a crowd that is here for the mountains and not the riff raff boozy nights of Queenstown. I will remain in Qtown for a few more days so as to force myself to rest in the bars, but then its off to Wanaka for about 3 weeks and hopefully about 10-15 days of skiing.

The Kepler Trail story.....and finally resting in Queenstown remains copyright of the author efstein, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Lets start out with some humor, boy did I get myself into a bit of jam with this one. Mind you, I wanted a travel buddy, I had been on the road, alone, for 5 weeks, and the thought of a partner in crime, if only to defray the cost of the rental car seemed worthwhile. After 11 days on the road with him, I do not regret it. We get along just fine. He is more or less like a little brother. He is the type of person that needs the stars to align to get motivated to go out and experience the world. How many layers should I wear? What should I eat, my stomach doesnt feel great? I'm tired? I have a headache? Are we there yet? ----- yes, times that by 10 and you have a kid how would be better off sipping wine in france than backpacking through new zealand. I say that because he intended to go to europe but could not find appropriate work. He is not meant for New Zealand and he is actually leaving 3 months earlier than he planned.
He isn't all bad, he's a wine and beer wannabee expert and he plays in a band. He is a prep school educated, whiny jew from philadelphia, but he is just one character in my story and every store needs some characters, so I'm guiding him along with a mixture of disdain for his prevalent whines accompanied by motivation to get him moving.

on travelling alone -

So much to be said, but what I will say is that of all the decisions, the questions, the insecurities, and the fears that I had prior to booking my ticket, I never once thought that being alone, thousands of miles from my friends and family, was a reason not to go. I had friends come up to me, applaud my decision, and in the same breath tell me that they could never do it. Not for lack of finances or wanderlust, but because they could not be isolated and alone. Is the 'alone' factor, actually the non-factor I had assumed? My answer is a qualified yes. I have missed many people, Jess, my family, and a few close friends all come to mind. There have been countless moments I wish I could have shared with any number of you. And at times, the loneliness has, as it should, reared its ugly head. But.....am I functioning just fine, am I enjoying myself immensely, yes. Is the 'alone' aspect a factor, of course it is, and I am a fool for not realizing it before I left. Yet I made the right decision, I can handle myself just fine on my own, and while I do feel like a have a life that is waiting for me, a life that in some sense requires me to wander only so far and for so long, I am confident that 3 months, or 4 months is not too long.

on the backpacker circuit -

Germans; they are everywhere. I got into a conversation with a german about their social policies toward the university graduate crowd. Simply astonishing. I could be wrong, but basically Germany subsidizes both your education, but also your life after you graduate, meaning basically that you can get handouts from the German government akin to American unemployment benefits without ever having worked a day in your life.

where are the Americans -

I can go on forever about this. As my mind likes to wander, it often wanders back to all the decisions, all the pressure, and all the misgivings I had about taking this trip. I blame you. I blame all of you Americans. When I look at the way American society prioritizies life, I am left acknowledging the obvious benefits we stand to gain from our birth-school-work-(maybe live a little when you are 55-65)-death mentality. Sure its not so black and white, but generally, we are a nation of insurance hungry, fear of the future, worriers. If you give a 23 year old American $5,000 that he earned in his first job after school, the wise thing to do with that money is invest in a Roth IRA, get that retirement fund going early. You give a 23 year old German, a Canadian, a Aussie, a Kiwi, or any other westernized nation that cash and they book their round the world ticket and worry about the consequences later.
Do we have a higher standard of living then those nations I named? Yes. Is it worth it to basically sacrifice your 20s to prepare yourself for your 50s and 60s, you all know my answer.

In defense, I will say that Americans, unlike many international travelers, have the benefit of traveling in the states and seeing such a vast country that you could argue that you get the same experiences domestically as abroad. It would be a terrible argument, but I can understand why Irish people need to get out of their country, it's, from what I hear, rather mundane after awhile.

backpackers lodges -

No, I do not really feel well rested. Conversely, nor do I feel that backpackers lodges are a substandard way of travelling - a jab I often receive from my friends back home. You can't do what I am doing without these places, and I'd argue that there is no other way to see a country such as New Zealand other than driving around and staying in quiet towns. Could you double your nightly budget and stay in motels by yourself? Sure, you then have to eat out every night. You need the kitchen facilities. I see families staying in many of the quieter lodges, many places I have had rooms to myself. Is the communal aspect a bitter pill to swallow at times? Absolutely. So I then book myself into my own room, done and done. Its true that people are naturally distrustful of what they do not know, and I realize that in America we do not know backpackers/hostel accomodations. But they are not the devil folks.

Music down here -

Not as bad as originally thought. In the woods you have the weird allegience to death metal as all backwoods hicks tend to do, but in mainstream society the trend is to reggae and dub. I hear as much Beyonce and Eminem down here as I do local artists. If anything its amazing how strong the American influence is so far away. I was on the ferry to Stewart Island, literally 5 people on the thing, in the middle of nowhere, and MGMT's Electric Feel comes on the radio. For my parents and those not in the know, MGMT was an underground band from L.A. that struck it big about this time last year....just crazy to hear them on the radio down here.

Sleeping -

Nope, I dont need as much as most people apparently. Its now 10:52 at a semi-full backpackers lodge. I am the only person in the common area. People go to sleep earlier than me, and sleep later. Perhaps I'm still on lawyer time, which really only requires 6 hours of sleep a night, but I just do not feel great lying in a communal room for 9 hours. So I right non-sensical blogs instead.

thoughts remains copyright of the author efstein, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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As for the last few days, I will summarize Stewart Island as quickly as possible. Its the type of place that grabs you from the moment you step off the boat. With so few people (200-300), so few travellers (about 12), and really no tourism industry apart from a few water taxis and air planes to ferry people around the island, the island has remained relatively outside the realm of eco-tourism. New Zealand's own lack of personal riches has spared the island from becoming a Martha's Vineyard. Instead the island is 85% national park, the remaining 15% houses a mix of posh vacation homes and dilapidated cabins. The locals are fisherman and are friendly. The scenery was average, it was the isolation that was special.

From Stewart we drove about 150 kilometers across the southern coastline and up the west coast to Fjordland. Fjordland is home to the some of the most famous hikes in the New Zealand many of which skirt around Milford Sound, one of the most popular tourist destinations in the world. I spent today kayaking through the sound, it was my first real glimpse at fjords. The mountain heights were about 3,000 feet, rising straight out from water which was anywhere from 200-2000 feet deep, right below my kayak. It rains 240 days out of the year in the sound, and most people say that rain adds to the effect. I was happy with overcast skies and pockets of sun, the photography does not do it justice. It is an amazing place. Again, I somewhat marvel at how New Zealand either by way of lack of resources or by design has left its natural wonders alone. You can not get into Milford Sound without driving 120 kilometers from the closest town, and even then you need to either be prepared to hike a few days into the woods or pay for kayak or boat trip services. Much of why so much of the scenery here is special is largely due to its remoteness. A footnote to this idea is the benefit I have unknowingly gained by travelling in the off season. Today there were 16 people in the sound along with 2 tour boats. On a summers day there would 80 kayaks two dozen boats, and 400 planes flying in and out every day. This is only one example. The locals remark time and again how the roads are slower, the hiking paths are more crowded, and the boat tours are teaming in the summer. Balancing these benefits out are the problems with travelling in the off-season - many shopkeepers are on vacation, many nicer accomodations are closed, many outdoor activities such as multi-day hikes are unfeasible due to snowpack.
Like so many things its a double-edged sword, but the moments of tranquility that you get without crowds are hard to beat.

Thats the broad brush stroked story for now....

Im going to post another entry for random thoughts on travelling, travel partners, and additional new zealand thoughts.

Check my pictures, there should be new ones up.

and finally, into the southern alps remains copyright of the author efstein, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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I had a reservation to go sperm whale watching for 12:45 and made it to the dock with half an hour to spare. Kaikoura is just another ridiculously scenic area, as the Kaikoura mountain range rises less than 10 kilometers from the ocean into snow covered craggy peaks. The water itself is world reknowned for the Kaikoura shelf. Basically, less than one kilometer from the shore line, the ocean floor drops over 4,000 feet, something that is almost unheard of worldwide and is the sole factor for the wealth of sea life right of the coast. The whale watch was cool enough, if a bit overpriced. We got to see two sperm whales, and the boat captain deftly moves the boat around the whale so that the diving picture of the whales tail can be shot with the Kaikoura mountains in the background...check my pics for what I am talking about.

I got back from the whale watch, got some food and settled into a rather junky hostel for a quiet night. The next morning I was set to meet my travel partner Ryan in the city of Christchurch about 200 kilometers to my south. The drive went well and I met Ryan and continued another 200 kilometers south to his current hometown, the city of Dunedin. As you can see, lots of driving.

We pulled into Dunedin with the idea of spending the weekend preparing for two weeks in the real no-man's land of the south island - Catlin's National Park, Stewart Island, and the Fjordland. Basically, these places are some of the last inhabited, most pristine natural settings in the country. Its nice to have someone to go with, as we are going truly into the middle of nowhere. With that agenda, I pulled into Dunedin and went directly to the emergency room. I had developed some sort of welts on the side of my face and was experiencing a malaise with mild elements of vertigo. Not good, not good at all. The diagnosis was shingles, an illness my cousin just dealt with and something I was neither happy to deal with nor overly concerned about. As of now, I probably feel the worst I have felt since I left home. A bit feverish, and tired. We are still setting off tomorrow for the Catlins. I have my meds. and I promise not to do anything more than sit buy the woodfires and read until I feel better.

On a final note, I am now in winter. Dunedin's temperatures are hovering around freezing at night and ice and sleet have fallen in the city the last day. The killer with this country is that the homes have no insulation. Why, I do not know, as they spend 3 months of the year in freezing temperatures. What this means is that you can never really get warm. Some places have wood fires and everyone congregates in this rooms during the evening hours, but at night, you are in bed and the room temps are falling. Is it terrible? No, not really, but it does give some credence to the locals' bitching and moaning over winter.

Whales, a new travel buddy, and shingles remains copyright of the author efstein, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Apart from Wellington, the other highlight of the North Island was Tongariro National Park which is right in the middle of the island. The park boasts 3 active volcanoes, one of which Mt. Ngauruhoe served as Mt. Doom in the Lord of the Rings movies. Two ski mountains plus hundreds of miles of hiking, kayaking, and fishing provided me with ample activities. I used the mountain village of Turangi as my base. A small town with a few cafes, a gas station, and a grocery store. The weather was variable upon my arrival, and I spent day one white water rafting down the Tongariro river, more or less, because I did not know what else to do. The rapids were rather tame, fun of course, but not that intense.

On day two, I encountered some snow showers in the higher elevation where I did a small hike at the base of Mt. Ruepehu the volcano that exploded in 1995.

As the day came to a close I ventured into the local (DOC) to inquire about trail conditions on the Tongariro Crossing. The crossing is a 19 kilometer hike/climb over Mt. Doom and through a mountain crater before passing along the side of Mt. Tongariro and depositing you on the other side of the park. In winter its a bit technical with crampons and ice axe required. There is no point in doing the hike unless you have clear weather, as the views are what you climb for. So I found out that guides would be doing the hike on Thursday, I just needed to decide if the weather would make it worthwhile.

At 10 pm that night we had clear skies, so I set the alarm clock for 645 AM and prepared my day bag for the crossing. All in all, the crossing was fantastic. You end up getting in between the three volcanoes which provide an alpine setting reminiscent of something you'd expect to find in the Himalayas or Andes -- all above tree line, all white as we had just received about 20 centimeters of snow in the past few days, and well above the clouds so you could imagine that I was trigger happy with my camera. The climb itself is over 2400 feet in gain, but over about 10 kilometers making it less strenuous. The climb made its way to the base of Mt. Doom, ascended about 800 feet before coming to a mountain plateau that we crossed. At this point you are directly between Mt. Doom and Mt. Tongariro and you need to climb up to the spine/ridge that connects the to mountains. It was the most challenging/steep part of the climb. Once on the ridge we had reached the tallest point of the climb at 1900 meters or 6,200 feet. The landscape was all white and we had views to almost both coastlines. We did not need our crampons as the fresh snow pack made for a solid base for climbing. The final 8 or so kilometers was the descent around the north face of Mt. Tongariro and into the mountain woods below. The coolest aspect of the trip was that my group of about 15 climbers and 2 guides was the first group to set out on the crossing since the storm, meaing we were making fresh tracks. We alternated the lead climber as the front person was more or less stepping into 6-10 inches of fresh snow. A lot of fun, and quite tiring, but in the end its the obvious highlight of the north island.

I am excited for the south island and think 2 and half weeks was just about the right amount of time for the north. I missed a few things and could have easily spent another two weeks up here, but Im very happy with the places I did go -- Coromandel Peninsula, Raglan (beach town), Tongariro National Park, and Wellington.

The south island is a bit rushed as I need to get to the city of Christchurch by next Friday to meet my travel buddy Ryan. This means I am rushing through wine country in the north. I have a feeling that I will loop back around to get a second helping of this area just before I leave New Zealand in late August. But generally the next week will be a lot of wine and some whale watching off the coast. Im going to probably nurse my old man knees for a few days to get ready for the serious hiking I'll be doing later in the month.

Tongariro National Park and Wellington remains copyright of the author efstein, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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