Americans traveling through Australasia (as they say here in New Zealand) have it easy; the food is recognizable, the currency is relatively comparable, and, above all, the natives speak English, making communication unbelievably easy. Yet, somehow, for the past week, I might as well have been in the middle of Siberia, because every time I turned around, my breath would be taken away, leaving me speechless. In the last seven days, I can only remember uttering three phrases: “wow,” “oh my god, look at that,” and “did we really climb that?”
Looking back on it, I could have not spent my February holiday in a better way, and I hope that everyone is able to see New Zealand for themselves someday.
February 10th – The Departure
It was no surprise that I could not sleep the night before our departure; after spending 30 minutes wrestling with a cockroach in my bed, I spent the rest of the night dreaming about the trifecta of events that the next day would bring: my 20th birthday, my first day not having to even think about artificial intelligence, and the first day of the vacation I had always dreamed of.
With peanut butter and banana sandwiches packed and bags lined up by the door, my roommate, Emily, and I were out of the house by 7:30 AM and on our way to the first of many transfers to the airport. Once arriving around 9:00, we were tired and hungry, which, as we have come to recognize, draws one of two personalities out of the both of us: grumpy and irritable or childishly giddy. Fortunately, we lucked out with the latter, practically losing our minds making fun of everyone in the line for security, including one girl who was unintentionally whacking every passersby in the face with a peacock feather that was sticking out of her backpack. Even better, these positive emotions carried us through our two hour delay; some of our disgruntled fellow passengers weren’t as lucky.
Despite the delay, our two hour flight on Virgin Australia was the most pleasant flight I have ever been on. After an efficient boarding process, the fasten seat belt sight was off less than 20 minutes into the flight, with the flight attendants armed and ready to distribute a delicious complimentary meal (yes, you read that right, “delicious” airplane food) and choice of drink! A slow descent from high altitude gave us an unrivaled view of the Southern Alps, the cherry on top of our pleasant flying experience.
Once landing in Queenstown, Emily and I practically ran off of the plane. Compared to the mountains that rose around us, we felt miniaturized, each emitting a synchronized “wow,” to the enjoyment of the two “Kiwis” (native New Zealanders) in front of us.
After grabbing our luggage from one of two baggage carousels in an airport slightly larger than the Worcester (Massachusetts) Airport, we hopped on board a Richie’s bus to Wanaka, our first destination.
Wanaka (or is it Wakanda?)
The day of traveling and a two hour time difference from Sydney had certainly drained us of most of the energy that we had by our 5:50 PM bus departure, but Chris, our driver, was able to keep us entertained during our entire 1.5 hour drive. A former geology major, he told us about all of the rocks and wildlife of New Zealand. He shared that the native plants can be identified by their half-dead quality. He told us of the invasive pine tree, which was introduced many centuries ago for constructive purposes, but overtime, had destroyed the populations of native plants and was currently being culled by the Department of Conservation. Later, on one of our many hikes, we even read a sign that encouraged hikers to pull out pine saplings to aid this process.
Trying to figure out our plans for our only full day in Wanaka, we asked if he recommended that we climb Roy’s Peak, a trek listed on almost every travel website that I could find. To our surprise, he responded with a scoff, saying that the walk was equivalent to walking on a treadmill for 5 hours with the sun beating down on your back, just to get to the top, where 100 people would be fighting to take their own iconic picture over Lake Wanaka. Instead, he recommended hiking to Rob Roy Glacier, which was an easy one hour bus ride away and provided beautiful views of endless waterfalls with few other people around. We were sold!
About half an hour into our ride, we stopped in a town called Cromwell to pick up a few more passengers. Turning off the main road, Chris suddenly says, “Here is the Big Fruit,” pointing to a large display of what is, in fact, big fruit. A native of Ripponvale, a nearby village, was inspired to craft this monstrosity in homage to fruit’s positive contributions to the local economy. Of course, we had to take a picture!
As a final note before pulling up to Base Wanaka hostel, Chris told us that New Zealand lies on a fault line and historically has a large earthquake every 300 years, with 2019 being year 302. With that, he wished us good luck and goodbye, and we were on our own, ready to check in and, more importantly, enjoy some birthday burritos lakeside!
Day 1 – Rob Roy Glacier
Despite being exhausted from our busy day, we did not luck out with much sleep that night (eight girls in one bunk room can cause a lot of commotion), but, not wanting to waste a second of our first day, we were out of the hostel by 7:45 AM (5:45 AM Sydney time) to catch the bus to Raspberry Creek, the location of Rob Roy Glacier.
Joined by seven other ambitious hikers, we traversed our way past water so clear that it reflected the sky and hills the color of mustard seed contrasted with slate gray rock faces scarred by glaciation. Enjoying a short lunch by Rob Roy Glacier, which we were told won’t exist in 25 years, we soaked in our surroundings and made a quick trek back for our return shuttle to Wanaka.
On the way back, our driver, Graham, stopped to allow us to get some real fruit ice cream from a small roadside stand called Man-Love Berries. We had no tangible New Zealand currency on us, having yet to seek out an ATM, but much to our surprise, the owner accepted Australian currency as well, making for a van full of content bushwalkers.
Arriving back in Wanaka, we spent the rest of the early evening hours exploring the quaint town, which is composed of one main street and only 8,460 permanent residents, about the size of Rutland, MA (“where?” you might ask; exactly). Much to my amusement, Emily would often mistake Wanaka’s name for “Wakanda,” of Black Panther fame, and we soon adopted it as a nickname that would put me in a laughing fit every time I said it.
Later that night, the hostel bar hosted a karaoke night, which we made the unfortunate mistake of attending. Trying to distract ourselves from the unbearable renditions of “Country Road,” Emily and I passed the time as the coolest kids in the joint, play Connect Four, with an embarrassing record of 8 (Emily) – 0 (me), followed by Scrabble, which Emily surrendered when she just couldn’t stand the music anymore. Hoping to find our room as a safe haven from the noise, we were greatly disappointed to find that the karaoke traveled directly through our window and didn’t cease until well past midnight. Another restless night ensued.
Day 2 – Mt. Iron
Our final day in Wanaka led us around the Mount Iron loop track, which was much more of a vertical loop than we expected. Slowly making our way to the top, our self-esteem was not helped by the fact that runners would periodically sprint past us on our way up the slope. We would come to find out that they were getting in some last minute miles for the Wanaka Challenger super triathlon that was to happen later that week. After just walking the trail, I will say for certain that I’d much rather spend the day by the lake than take a crack at that race.
Fortunately, our hard work presented us with an expansive view stretching miles in every direction, bringing a great end to our short time in Wanaka.
Queenstown
Having squeezed everything that we could out of our first destination, we were ready to take on Queenstown, a tourist hub, about three times the size of Wanaka with about the same population of Marlborough, MA (ring a bell?).
If our new hostel room at Base Queenstown was any hint of what was to come, we were in for five days of complete luxury. Upon booking our trip, the least expensive accommodation available at the hostel was a single room without a bathroom, and this option was a treat compared to our 8-person “sanctuary,” as the hostel named it; not only were we provided with towels and toiletries, but we had a fridge (no more canned lunches!) and TV (with 5 working channels) as well!
After soaking in the amenities, we dropped our bags off and sought out a place for dinner. Upon recommendation of an Australian friend, we joined the 40-odd person line outside of a place called Fergburger, quoted from CNN as possibly being one of the best burger places in the world. Although the food was certainly delicious and the line was impressive, Emily and I agree that Devil’s Burger, another less-crowded joint down the road, provided us with a comparable, if not better, lunch a few days later.
Betraying our initial expectations, our room provided less of a true sanctuary than we thought, located right above a night club, and its accompanying electronic thumping, which began right as we were beginning to fall asleep.
Day 1 – Jucy Cruiser
Fortunately, we would be spending almost 12 hours on a bus the next day during our Jucy Cruiser trip to Milford Sound, giving us plenty of time to make up for the lost rest. Leaving at 9:15 on the Jucy tour bus, we made many stops along our approximately 3-hour drive to Milford Sound, which is actually a fiord, located in Fiordland National Park on the western coast of New Zealand’s South Island. Although it would only take a short 45 minute flight to get there, the bus must navigate around many mountains to make the same trip.
Our bus driver, Johnny, was full of many facts and provided great entertainment between long spelling staring in awe out the window. Here are a few of my favorite tidbits:
- Milford Sound should actually be called “Milford Fiord,” but fiord (often spelled fjord) had not entered the English dictionary at the time it was discovered. As I would soon find out, the difference between a fiord and a sound is that a fiord is an oceanic inlet formed by glaciers, while a sound has no relation to glaciers at all.
- The kea is the only true alpine parrot in the world and one of the few living things native to New Zealand. It is an incredibly mischievous bird that used to feed on grazing sheep, almost leading to their extinction when the farmers became angry. Yet, in 2013, they became recognized as nationally endangered, giving them full protection and allowing them to be a nuisance to anyone who comes close to them. We were told that they often prance around to distract tourists while secretly stealing food and expensive goods behind their backs!
- Due to the geography, the weather in Milford Sound can often be completely different from its neighboring locations, a circumstance that we experienced. Blue skies in Queenstown gave way to dark, threatening clouds in Milford Sound, making for a misty cruise around the bay, but didn’t spoil our fun!
- Many years ago, the ratio of sheep to people in New Zealand was around 15:1, but the rise of deer farming and other causes has led the numbers to drop to around 5:1.
With our minds full of facts and anticipation of our 2 hour cruise ahead, our bus arrived in Milford, and all of us jumped aboard the Jucy Cruise. Despite the spitting rain and cold weather, Emily and I made the most of our time, gaping at the many waterfalls that cascaded from the rocks that rose around us and even getting to stand under one to top off our ride.
After another long drive back to Queenstown, we finally got the sleep that we deserved, leading us into a rainy Valentine’s Day full of shopping and meandering around.
Day 2 – Valentine’s Day Leisure
Our first stop of the day was at the Underwater Observatory, located under a boardwalk right in front of the Louis Vuitton in the center of town. Expecting much more for our ten dollars, we were disappointed to find that it consisted of a single window looking out upon cloudy water. So, after sitting in the viewing area for about five minutes, we made friends with the fish and made our way out of there for a, hopefully, more fruitful afternoon of shopping.
Our first destination, a local Salvation Army, introduced us to the cashier, a woman who happened to have just moved from Marlborough, MA, the town right next to my hometown and where we often go grocery shopping! What a coincidence!
When the clouds lifted, we thought it would be appropriate to check out the Queenstown rose gardens to celebrate the day of love.
Popping into a few other local souvenir shops a bit later, we spent the rest of the day planning the last few days of our trip, which was quickly coming to an end.
Day 3 – Queenstown Hill and Shotover Jet
Day 3 in Queenstown started with another deceptively steep hike up Queenstown Hill. Just to get to the start of the track, we had to tiptoe up streets so steep that our ankles could not bend any further. Then, after a well-deserved view at the top, we ran down the hill like maniacs to save our quads from aching, simultaneously scaring and entertaining many passerby along the way.
Around 2 PM, we caught a bus to our next adventure, the Shotover Jet boat ride. This 54-year-old attraction has carried over 3 million people through the Shotover Canyon at speeds of up to 85 kmh (53 mph), barely scraping past cliff faces and boulders. Although we got a little wet, me more than Emily, being closer to the edge of the boat, our spirits ran high, and we wished that we could have gone again and again and again.
But this little thrill was a baby swing compared to our next planned activity: skydiving.
Day 4 – Skydiving
As most of you know, I am, or at least have been for the first 19 years of my life, a relatively boring person; I (almost) always follow the rules, I’m generally in bed by 10 PM and rarely vary my daily routine.
But I also try to take advantage of every opportunity that I get, and when you are in the “Adrenaline Capital of the World,” you can’t not go skydiving.
On our bus ride to Milford Sound, Emily and I had a lot of time to think, and by our return to Queenstown that evening, we had booked a 9:00 AM trip on February 16th to Glenorchy with Skydive Southern Alps, where we would be suiting up to leap out of a plane from 15,000 feet, the highest altitude jump offered.
Every hour that followed until the time of our jump, one of us would say “I can’t believe we are going skydiving in ‘FILL IN TIME UNTIL SKYDIVING’ days,” up to the point that it almost got annoying (but not quite :)). Will still couldn’t believe it as we were filling out the waiver on the morning of, which advised us that we would need to wear an oxygen mask on the plane, due to the fact that we would be travelling at an unsafe altitude for breathing. (Mom – I hope you’re still happy that I didn’t tell you until afterwards!)
Arriving at the departure zone, we met Brian, another vacationer from LA who would be joining us on our ride into the clouds and subsequent fall to the ground. Exchanging stories during the interminable wait, we were finally called to get ready around noon, paired up with our tandem instructors and pulled onto the plane like children.
The day before, Emily and I had agreed that we were almost taking the mountains and views that we had seen for granted, having spent so much time surrounded by them. However, during our 12 minute flight to the drop zone, we found out that we were surely mistaken.
Travelling high above the Southern Alps, we caught views of clear mountain-top pools, hidden from sight miles below. My tandem instructor even pointed out Milford Sound and Mount Cook, the highest point in New Zealand, off in the distance, having to scream above the whir of the airplane engine.
About every two minutes, my partner would ask me if I was nervous, and surprisingly, my current situation hadn’t dawned on me yet; according to my state of mind, I could have been on a luxury flight on my way to the North Island, book in hand and seat belt strapped.
At least that was until the door opened.
Upon reaching 15,000 feet above the ground (16,200 feet above sea level), the sliding door was cranked open and before I knew it, my tandem instructor had swung my feet over the side of the plane, and I was screaming like a madwoman. With a quick kick of his legs, we were flying.
I would have continued to wail my head off, but around 20 seconds in, my mouth dried up, and with nothing else in my control, I finally thought to take a look around. I can’t even describe what was in front of, and underneath, me. For the next forty seconds of free fall, my instructor grabbed my hands, spun us around, and allowed me to have the, literal, time of my life.
About one minute in, we were sucked up by our pink parachute, starting the slow descent to the ground. I was even allowed to take control of the reins for a little bit, but was adamant to hand them over after a minute or so, not wanting to add any more risk to our lives.
After five quick minutes of falling with the parachute, we were on the ground, and I immediately sought out Emily, who was prancing over to me with the biggest smile on her face. We jumped and dance for the rest of the day, not believing what we had just did, and even wishing that we could do it again right then (but maybe at a lower cost :)).
What followed for the rest of our trip seemed like a dream after literally falling through the sky.
That evening, after our return to Queenstown, we took a sunset hike up the Tiki Trail to Bob’s Peak (yet another unexpectedly steep hike) with other patrons of the hostel. Arriving at the top around 9:30 PM, just after the rush of tourists, we received a free gondola ride down, capping off a wonderful trip to New Zealand, one that I will certainly never forget.
So, this is “Study” Abroad? Where is all of the Studying?
Now that you think that I’m pretty much vacationing while my peers back home are studying their butts off in the freezing cold, I promise you that the hard work lies right on the horizon. Today, I start my full academic term with three of (what I’ve been told) are UNSW’s most intensive classes: Algorithms and Programming Techniques, Operating Systems, and Chinese Media and Communications.
So, since skydiving didn’t kill me, I can only hope that these courses, along with my research, wind symphony, running club, and my cooking won’t either 🙂
Study in Sydney 
Glad you got that fun out of the way!! Hope your classes go well this week!
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What an amazing experience you have had…Well deserved for one very special person…Now that you had your fun, time to take care of the real education you are there for…Good Luck..Love you Grampa
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Hi Gretchen – Your Blogs are sooooo entertaining! You are a great writer ……. you should write a book, seriously!! You’re the best!! I just went down to get my mail. Thank you so much for your postcard…..you made my day!! You’re so sweet! My little “lady bug”! 🙂 Love and miss you! Grammy
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