New Zealand diary

Scenic south island

Glacier BRIDGE
Hiking on a glacier is a lot of winding up and down steep icy stairways
and crossing rickety, makeshift bridges.
Franz Josef Glacier and Milford Sound, south island 11.25-28.05

Civilization's end: Fox and Franz Josef glaciers (yes, named for famous dead white guys) and Milford and Doubtful sounds (they're actually fjords, but the Kiwis like the sound of sound) are last vestiges of human development on the south island's beautiful but fearsomely rugged southwest coast. The town of Franz Josef below the glacier is three blocks long and has two streets. Milford Sound is a handful of buildings and a dock. Fiordlands National Park is the country's largest and encompasses millions of acres, essentially the entire lower quarter of the island.

MilfordKea
The Milford Mariner, right, plies the pristine
waters of Milford Sound beneath
dizzyingly tall rock walls, a kea, above,
perched atop a rental car.

The Mecca of tourism: Milford and Doubtful sounds are most travelers' top priority in New Zealand. The Milford Track, a famous four-day hike through the backcountry of Fiordlands National Park, is booked up for the entire summer through next April. Fifty hikers are guided and another 40 allowed to meander unsupervised along the 40-mile route per day and travel is permitted only in one direction. The main access point to the trail is via a ferry across a pristine alpine lake. But there is a secondary access point across the Eglinton River and through a high valley. So many interlopers were illegally accessing the trail via this route that the New Zealand government took down the foot bridge over the river. The wildlife consists mainly of crested penguins, sea lions and various hawks and seagulls, but the oddest sight is keas, surprisingly large dusky green parrots that are at home in the rainforests immediately adjacent to glaciers. It's not unusually to see them perched on ice outcroppings.

Blokes on vacation: The bus driver on the overnight trip to Milford Sound was an entertaining, enthusiastic and impressively well-informed native of Queenstown who called himself Fly. After driving a load of tourists to the cruise ship at the sound, he then boarded along with us and served as guide on our kayak outing, cleaned up the kitchen after the evening meal, chatted up virtually everyone aboard during the long evening and then drove us back to Queenstown the next morning. He said workers like himself typically work seven days in a row, then have seven days off. Not a bad life. Fly battled it out with three loud-mouthed but invariably funny Aussies who were part of the tour group and held forth in the far back of the bus. They looked and sounded like soccer hooligans. Every time there was a lunch or bathroom break, they were smoking and consuming as much beer as possible. Fly put on a CD of atmospheric new-age music during the drive back to Queenstown, which prompted the loudest of the hooligans to lurch to the front of the bus and protest. "No one wants to hear this crap," he declared. Turning around to face the tour group, he said, "Anyone want to listen to this stuff? Anyone? I didn't think so." Turning back to Fly he said, "Cut it."

Gary
Taking a breather while taking in the view
midway up Franz Josef Glacier in shirtsleeve
weather.

Anger management: While soft hotel beds that produce aching backs are an inescapable reality of travel, one can't really hate them. With my arrival at Milford Sound I at last had something to truly despise: sand flies. Nasty little black bugs that viciously attack human flesh. Days later I'm still scratching the red welts.

Copyright Gary Olson 2010