A blog on travel, the outdoors, photography and perhaps music
Into a huge basin, Mount John Observatory gives a perspective of Lake Tikapu down below. The draught of Chinese tourism is felt here, selfie sticks competing with star gazing domes.
Lake Tikapu is our stop on the way up to Rex Simpson Hut, our overnight bunk house. It is amazing what good food can be rustled up on a small stove. Pre dinner entertainment was provided by a cloud show: fast changing shapes and colours. Post dinner caberet was the Milky Way: photos do not do it justice.
Superlatives are running out. Weather held for a venture up to near the base and surrounds. Clouds are magic. The Tasman Glacier is retreating at an astonishing 400+metres per year.
The roads here are uncomplicated. There aren’t many choices. Retrace to Queenstown, turn right and over another pass, down to Twizel. That’s 240km ish.
Not before stopping at the spectacle of a fine 1880 suspension bridge, renovated by a percentage of the funds raised by the people who pay to jump off it. An easy 200NZD parted with.
Resistance is not futile. Twizel is. It’s twinned with Fort William as a transit town. Built originally to house dam workers for some massive, as in massive, hydro electric schemes, it is now booming. Well property prices anyway. No wifi in our overspill available, though it is a rather superior shed.
80km down a dead end road out of Te Anua, via the river Cleddau, gets you to Milford Sound. A popular spot for many Asian tourists who enjoy the 1.5hour cruise eating their lunch below deck. This leaves lots more room on the outside deck for the rest of us to appreciate the fiord. Today it belied the weather forecast of rain. Just hanging clouds offsetting hanging valleys.
A remote place, Fiordland. No misspelling. Larger than Yellowstone and Yosemite combined and still mainly pristine.
Ascent of Rocky Mountain with views of Diamond Lake teed the day up nicely. Then over the Crown Pass – between the Western and Southern Areas – surfaced only in 2000. One to return to, to cycle down its many scary hairpins. Only after fitting new brake blocks and stopping to change them half way down the 1000m descent towards Queenstown. Continue reading “John Denver, Day 18”
Travelling reflections 