Doubtful Sound and southlands

After our rather over-the-top whirlwind trip in and out of the Fiordlands to Milford Sound, our next venture to that part of the country fell toward the opposite end of the spectrum­, rather important, as life is richer and appreciated that much more when filled with contrasts…  I had felt incredibly lucky snagging the last 4 spots available on an overnight cruise into Doubtful Sound, the most remote of the fiords that can only be experienced via a handful of boats. Funny fact: Doubtful Sound, Milford Sound and all the sounds in this area are actually fiords, despite what their names imply. It turns out a sound is created by a river carving its way into the landscape over thousands of years while a fiord is created by a glacier. This entire area of New Zealand used to be covered in glaciers, some as deep as 1 km, and as the planet warmed and cooled and warmed and cooled over thousands of years they carved their way into the ground surrounding them creating the astounding fiords we visit today. The term “sound” is also used to note a safe place for a boat to seek shelter and when the early European exploders came to New Zealand, they escaped the gales and waves of the Tasman Sea inside these fiords, naming them sounds.  Their names stuck. Random bit of utterly useless knowledge for today 😊. Anyway, back to the boat and those last 4 spots I so luckily secured us… Our sleeping situation can best be compared to a hostel or a European high alpine hut, with rows of bunk beds and shared bathrooms tucked away deeeeep underdeck, down where the bilge pump lives. And while 70 people isn’t an extraordinarily large number of people for a boat, especially in the world of cruises, it is far more people than we have been around on our trip thus far, and far more people than we felt comfortable shacking up next-to with the continual reality of covid raging around us. Once we got past the initial shock and momentary freak out over what we were going to do, we tossed our bags onto our bunks and headed up (several flights of stairs) to the main deck, saddled up to the bar to order a beer, and settled in, throwing fate to the gods and accepting that what will be, will be. The next 20 hours were completely lovely, though not necessarily something we would jump at to do again soon.

To get to the proper boat, you first board a small catamaran in Monapuri which takes you about 40 minutes across Monapuri lake to a small harbor on the other side. There a couple of coach busses haul you up and over the pass via a dirt road that apparently cost $1 per cm to build and is completely unused other than for coach busses carrying tourists to awaiting boats, and by the occasional brave fisherman. You drive about an hour up and over the pass before loading onto your cruise boat for the night. I must say, the boat was very charming, built in the traditional style of a traditional trading scow in a very regal dark blue with large sails rising up to the sky. And the landscape was truly stunning. You sail down these glacial-blue waterways with dolphins and fur seals, all surrounded by giant granite mounds and cliffs that reach toward the sky, rising up out of the ocean in a most striking manner. They are all covered in dense green trees and bushes which, it turns out, are able to grow only because a thick layer of moss that takes hold and grows on the granite, creating such a deep surface that tree roots are able to take hold. Occasionally you will see large, blank swaths of lighter-gray granite where a “tree avalanche” has occurred, marking a space where enough rain or snow fell to oversaturate the moss underlayer (which can hold 25x its weight in water apparently) prompting it and all attached to crash down into the ocean below. It was unlike anything I’ve ever seen and I can only imagine how surreal it would be to watch one come down a mountainside. We were lucky enough to get a rare sunny day (it rains over 200 days/year) which meant we were able to sneak out onto the decks to enjoy the passing majesty, though the winds were so strong they quite literally blew you over if you weren’t holding on and we were the only guests dumb enough to brave them. The boys thought it was brilliant and spent hours pulling themselves up the railings and leaning full force into the wind, shocked that it wouldn’t let them fall over. Will and I moved onto rosé. We then dragged our wind ravaged selves into the galley and settled into a booth with monopoly, a deck of cards and the boy’s books and were infinitely grateful that they had a quite decent wine list and plenty of board games to choose from. I can appreciate the lovely simplicity of a cruise - it doesn’t require too much planning or thought, you are constantly given a narration of interesting facts and insights into culture and history, and there is plenty of yummy food which you can’t help but devouring, even though you aren’t the slightest bit hungry as you have barely moved a muscle all day. The downside is entirely our own making, being overly hyperactive humans who enjoy a more intimate and personal up-close engagement with the places we visit. All we wanted to do is jump overboard and swim ashore to explore the islands on foot, or kayak our way up into the deepest stretches with no one around. In the 24 hours we were on the boat Holden managed to read an entire 450-page book, Huxley read two entire “Dragon Masters” and Will and I did our best to support the bar by drinking all the wine we could. Plus, we confirmed that the boys are truly not phased by much in terms of creature comforts while on the road and can sleep through anything at all as long as they’re tired enough, so all in all it was a great success 😊.

After emerging from the fiords we headed off for a brief dip into the Southlands, drawn by the chance to reach the southernmost tip of New Zealand and stand closer to Antarctica than the Equator. Our itinerary took us to Invercargill for two nights than onto Dunedin for two more, where we would ring in 2023, before heading up the eastern coast to Christchurch. We never really found our groove in the Southlands or Christchurch, finding the towns slightly more industrial and practical than inviting or interesting, noting along the way that we’d gone from the land of roadside stands selling strawberries and raspberries to roadside stands selling buckets of potatoes. I think we were also all suffering from a little travel fatigue, partially fueled by the letdown of post-Christmas excitement, partially fueled by the sadness of leaving Wanaka and partially fueled by a series of bad motels, boat bunks and less than stellar Airbnbs, collectively resulting in short nights of sleep and creaky bodies when combined with all the travel. But just as we started to get a bit off and funky energy would creep in, it was as if mother nature was there to pick up back up with a continual display of the shocking beauty of the country around us. We went for a beautiful hike in Bluff, the town that is home to the afore mentioned Southern-most tip and found epic playgrounds in Invercargill with giant zip lines and massive swings and climbing structures that would surely be outlawed in the US. We explored the Cathedral Caves on our way up to Dunedin, a series of enormous sea caves that you can only visit at low tide, some stretching farther back than you can explore, each magnificently framing the glorious turquoise ocean and pristine beaches outside on your way back out. We found New Year’s Eve surf at Curio Bay where Holden was joined by a pod of dolphins surfing the waves and playing in the shore break alongside the surfers. We joined the crowds in Dunedin to celebrate the last hours of 2022 by eating as many desserts as we could stomach (I think we got 6 down before we started to feel a little sick) and dancing our booties off to the cringeworthy cover band “Bo the Constrictor” who was rocking out in the town square. We spent New Year Day playing soccer in the park and exploring Tunnel Beach, a rocky beach tucked in the bluffs 10 minutes from Dunedin center. You hike waaaayyyyy down a steep path and through a tunnel in the rock and pop out on a tiny sandy inlet that is surrounded by giant sea carved sandstone cliffs, arches, caves, and wild crashing waves. We found fun surf and good ice cream in Christchurch, and the boys managed to get some much-needed haircuts. When you list it all out it sounds a little pathetic to complain about being tired and travel weary, which is why I love this practice of reflection through writing. And while we might not push fellow travelers to devote days to the southlands, we still found things we will look back upon fondly and are glad we made our ‘loop’ south.  It’s all part of the adventure, and such an incredible adventure it is, in all the forms it assumes!

RANDOM RECS

We booked our overnight cruise through Real NZ….while I wouldn’t suggest the shared bunk room the overall boat was a great way to experience such a remote place.

If passing through the southland, a visit to Bluff and hike out along the point in beautiful. If we returned I’d find a house in the Catlins and do day trips to beautiful beaches from there.

If you’re in Dunedin, the Fable Hotel was a pretty good option. It’s restaurant, the Press Room, was tasty as well.

The Perc Cafe for breakfast or lunch…it was the only place open on New Years Day and ended up being our favorite spot in all of Dunedin!

A day trip to Tunnel Beach

CHRISTCHURCH:

I’d stay near Sumner rather than in town. It had a sweet, fun, funky beach vibe that we loved. Amazing playground and surf spot at Scarborough. Taylors Mistake is the other great surfing location.

Beautiful trail running at the Godley Head Walkway, a network of coastal tracks traversing the bluff.

A visit to the Antarctic center to see penguins, experience Antarctic temperatures and drive around in an arctic rover.

The Tannery Shopping Center for a collection of fun shops, cafes and restaurants

Riverside Market for a bustling collection of food stalls, restaurants and shops