These Boots Are Made For Walking

From Tuatapere to Queenstown (13/02 – 23/02)

The Last Light Lodge in Tuatapere is one of these hidden gems you only come across rarely. Not so much because of the campground itself – though the shared facilities were very spacious – but because of the adjoining cafe/restaurant. The family running the place produce their own vegetables and apart from being able to buy them almost literally from the ground, they use them in their all-home-made food menu. Tuatapere being the Sausage capital of New-Zealand, I treated myself to their own version of Bangers & Mash and it is probably the best meal I’ve ever had in the southern hemisphere in my whole life.

Being the Sausage capital is, of course, a big achievement in its own right, but Tuatapere is also the gateway to the (southern) Fjordland NP. Fjordland covers a big chunk of the South Island’s south-western shores and consists of bush-covered mountains, whose ridges drop down steeply into dozens of fjords, or “sounds” as they are referred to here, the most famous one being Milford Sound. Another feature of this beautiful region is its remoteness. There are no roads into Fjordland, so when you want to explore its rich vegetation and lose your gaze over the magnificent scenery, you only have two options: or you book an expensive organised tour taking you across lakes and fjords on a cruise, or you put on your hiking boots and explore the area on foot. I decided to go for the latter option, because it looked more appealing and because I got tired of carrying my walking shoes and hiking poles with me without ever giving them a closer look. From Tuatapere, I hit the road to the north and cycled to Lake Hauroko, in the southern Fjordland, first. I had to take a 30-km detour on gravel roads to get there, but over 400m deep, it makes it New-Zealand’s deepest lake. It’s a mystical place.

I stayed on the free Thicket Burn campsite and bumped into Peter again, the chemical glassblower from Freiburg. We were joined by Guillaume and Kim, 2 French friends and spent the evening together. The next day was supposed to bring lots of sunshine and I wanted to get as much distance covered as possible, so I woke up early, only to find the campsite had moved into the clouds during the night.

The sun made a late appearance though and by the time I made a short coffee break at Cliffden Suspension Bridge, a 111-meter long wooden bridge built in 1899, it had burned away the fog. I cycled along a scenic route heading straight north, with great views on Fjordland on my left. I was surpassed by 2 flying Germans on a tandem. It was Julian, whom I had met during one of his training rides just outside Invercargill, together with his girlfriend Viola. They had taken up the cycling again, after having been forced to temporarily abandon their Munich-to-Singapore tour after a heavy accident in India, leaving Julian with a broken collar-bone. They were both extremely fit though and after surgery in an Indian hospital and no more than 3 weeks of resting, they were cruising on their tandem once more. They arranged a tent spot for me at the Manapouri campground, which was fully booked. The Milford road still being closed due to the damage after the flooding, most people had changed their bookings to Doubtful Sound and accommodation in Manapouri sold out much more quickly than usual in this time of year. Julian and Viola told me at great length about their voyage so far. They had chosen a charity in India and raised some funding for it throughout their trip. I told them about my own fundraising project in the US. I will try to be as good an ambassador for Laughing At My Nightmare as possible and I hope to raise some money for Shane & Sarah in the process – a big thanks to Thomas B. from Anderlecht for being the first official donor to my fundraiser! You’ll find more information about this in the “About” section of the blog.

I cycled along the Lake2Lake trail from Manapouri to Te Anau the next day, which was only 30km, but it rained a lot in the afternoon, so I didn’t mind not going too far. Besides, I knew Ute and Konrad would be in Te Anau and I looked forward to seeing them again. I checked into the campground they stayed at and met them in the kitchen area. I hadn’t even taken a seat, but I already had a beer in my hand and had been told I would be catered for that night. They are the most wonderful people and we spent a nice evening together, spiced up by the arrival of Carlo, an Italian cyclist in his forties who was so Italian he told me he didn’t cook pasta for dinner, but noodles, only to turn up 15 minutes later with what he proudly announced was Carbonara. I guess you can’t define noodles cooked outside of Italy as pasta.

I stayed in Te Anau for another night (needless to say: Konrad and Ute cooked for me again), so I could enjoy a part of the Kepler Track. New-Zealand has a lot of hiking opportunities, but the DOC selected 10 multiday-hikes and turned them into “Great Walks”. If you want to hike them, especially in summer, you are required to book the huts or campgrounds along the way months in advance and pay excessive prices compared to non-great-walk accommodation. Just to give you an idea: staying in a hut on the Kepler Track costs 130 NZD per night, where a standard DOC hut will cost you only 5 NZD. The appeal of the Great Walks is such that people come from all over the world to explore them nevertheless. And judging by the views, you can’t blame them. I hiked to the first hut on the track, Luxmore Hut, overtaking lots of people struggling to get their heavy backpacks up the mountain, through the bush. At about 700m of altitude, the trail emerged from the forest and gave way to tremendous views over Te Anau lake and township on one side, and on a vast and seemingly impenetrable mountain range on the other, where rocky cliffs alternated with green slopes. It was a 5-star walking track and with a light backpack, I made smooth progress, enabling me to go even further than the hut and take in the gorgeous views from the top of Mount Luxmore (1400m). It was almost 8 pm by the time I got back to the campground, but the walk had truly been Great. I managed to hike for 34km on one of the country’s most popular trails and I already looked forward to my next hike, just one day of cycling away.

Almost all cyclists I had met, had recommended taking a 100km gravel road out of a place called The Key, 30km east of Te Anau, going past Mavora Lakes and driving all the way up to Walter Peak, a cul-de-sac on Wakatipu Lake, on Queentown’s opposite shore. Cars need to turn around at that point, but cyclists can hop on a touristic ferry, taking them and their bicycles to Queenstown in about 40 minutes’ time. I had decided a long time ago I wanted to see this cycling highlight for myself, but having strapped my walking boots tightly around my feet, I left my bicycle and my panniers at Mavora Lake campground, put Chewie in my backpack together with some food and my sleeping bag and left for a 3-day hike on the Greenstone walk. I had bought a couple of 5$-vouchers at the National Park’s visitor centre to sleep in the huts along the way.

I walked along North Mavora Lake for the first 10km, after which the trail continued into a wide valley, alternating between climbing up and down slopes of rock and bush, crossing clear mountain streams – I was happy to have taken my walking sticks with me otherwise I might have ended up in several of them headfirst – and through swampy grassland. The trail was not always clearly visible and was only marked by small poles with an orange head at 200m-intervals.

I tramped along the trail all by myself for the whole day. It felt like I was heading for the end of the world… when people say the South Island is remote, I guess this is what they mean. But it remains a small world. When I popped my head into Taipo hut after a 28km day, I looked straight into 2 familiar faces. Guillaume and Kim, whom I’d met a couple of days earlier at Lake Haurako, had apparently picked the same hike. We had dinner together – I didn’t bring my stove, so it was wraps with cheese, avocado and dried sausage once more – and we left the hut at the same time the next morning. They walked faster than me, meaning I had the valley all to myself again. The previous day had been quite exhausting, so I turned around a little sooner than anticipated and started hiking back the same way I came from. These multi-day hikes are very seldom loop-trails, so you have to arrange transport at the end, or you have to come back on your steps.

I got back to the campsite at noon the next day, after having spent another night in a hut, and was happy to find my bicycle in the same spot I left it 2 days earlier. I repacked my bags and continued my ride towards Queenstown. Once more I rode through an open, deserted, but beautiful valley before arriving on the southern shores of Lake Wakatipu.

I reached Walter Peak by 5 pm, but instead of hopping on the next ferry, I decided to camp on a marvellously well-kept DOC campground (free of charge!) and take the ferry the next morning. Upon my arrival at the campground, I didn’t even have the time to have a good look around, let alone get off my bicycle, before I heard someone calling out my name in apparent surprise. Nina and Isabelle, you might remember them from such blog entries as my last one, had crossed the Catlins at the same time I did and we shared the same happy memories of the wind blowing in our faces like a madman. They had gone to explore Steward Island, but my hiking stops made them catch up with me. I was happy to see them again and to hear they had had a wonderful time on New Zealand’s southernmost island. They introduced me to Thierry and Max, also from France. They had originally set out on a kayaking expedition, attempting to circumvent the entire south island. A kayak broken beyond repair and some injuries had made them change their travel plans though, and they had opted for the bicycle to continue their exploration. I let them use my stove because they had run out of camping gas. I felt like the Good Samaritan, since I also lent my walking poles to Dave, a German mountain biker, to help him set up his tarp. It was an exclusive cyclists-get-together that night and we enjoyed the peaceful surroundings one last time. After almost a week of remoteness, we all knew Queenstown would feel like Disneyland the next day.

We woke up to some rain the next morning, but it soon gave way to blue skies and a lot of sunshine. We left the campground all together and bought our ferry tickets at the gift shop. The TSS Earnslaw is a 1912 Edwardian vintage twin screw steamer, carrying tourists from Queenstown to Walter Peak for the day, and bringing them back at night. I found it really cool to be aboard such an old steamship, where you could still observe the shippers shoving tons of coals into the burning ovens to keep the engines running. It’s certainly not the most ecological way of transport, but it is a special experience. Even though not remotely comparable, it made me think about the 13-day voyage I would make in 8 months time, when I will cross the Atlantic Ocean on a cargo freighter.

I joined Nina and Isa for a burger-lunch in Queenstown, before checking in to the Lakeview campground. I had been hesitant to stay in Queenstown, but it was the perfect place to stay for a day-excursion to Glenorchy the next day. The weather would stay good for a couple of days and I looked forward to cycling without luggage.
I was setting up my tent when suddenly a charming young woman, about my age, stood in front of me, her lips moving in what was obviously the phrasing of a question. She pointed helpfully at my bike as I made absolutely no attempt at setting up a conversation other than just standing there with a blank expression on my face. After what seemed like half an hour to me I managed to ask her to repeat the question. Her smile revealed relief at my ability to finally make any sound whatsoever, and she said: “what type of bike do you have?”. I was about to answer “one with two wheels”, but I noticed just in time that I had parked my bicycle right next to her’s and that they were the same brand, which explained her interest in it. We chatted for a while and she introduced herself as Laure. She was cycling around parts of the south island for a month and was also headed north, so we concluded we might run into each other again.

I had dinner with Nina and Isa that night and talked about lots of things. Our paths would no longer cross from now on since they were going east towards Christchurch the next day. I felt a little sad because we had met several times over the course of the last 10 days and I had really come to like them. When cycle-touring New Zealand, you regularly end up meeting the same people, because the place is not that big and there aren’t that many roads, so you can get to know certain people better than usual when travelling. I hadn’t thought about that particular aspect before coming down here, but it certainly enriches the journey. The downside is it makes saying goodbye always slightly more difficult…
I couldn’t dwell on it for too long though since I had a big day ahead of me. I packed just one small pannier with some food and water and left early for a 130km-day, with a total elevation gain of 1500m, to visit Glenorchy and cycle on to Paradise, another LOTR film set location (Isengard). It was amazing. The weather was perfect, the views were absolutely breathtaking and cycling without any bags at all made me feel scatenato. I could have just written “unchained”, but everything sounds better in Italian, right?