Jeez, it’s now nearly a month since I returned, about time I finished this off hey. Well, the only tale remaining to be told is that of the track.
It was an early rise, our last morning in Queenstown, to catch the first bus to Te Anau. I was really feeling it – wasted that is. Many nights of little sleep, days packed with action and adventure were finally taking their toll. We stood on the street corner where we’d been instructed to wait for the coach, and soon became a little nervous that we were only 15mins for departure, but there was no coach and no other people around either. I was so beat I hardly cared and was just leaning up against a wall trying to think straight. Steve wasn’t a whole lot better, but helped walk around looking. Bryce was the man – he found, down the street, the name of the shop our tickets were booked through, and someone nearby who quickly showed us where to go – one block behind and half a block down from our instructions – thanks ANZCRO. We made it with no time to spare, the coach had even waited for us thank goodness.
On the coach I slept, as I think each of us did. Soon we arrived in Te Anau, piled off the coach and went looking for the Department of Conservation hut where we were to pay for our transfers and confirm our places on the track. The walk from the bus stop to the hut was a bit of
a wake-up call – these packs are not light! We paid our dues and then went to gather more info on the trek – a pamphlet and a video were on hand. We picked up a few points of info from these, mostly just some items we hadn’t thought to bring, but also a caution we’d heard before came through again – don’t wear cotton! It doesn’t dry and is heavy and cold when wet, and the Milford area gets about 7m of rainfall a year, so we were bound to get satched.
We left our packs at this hut and wandered back into town to buy supplies and lunch in the few hours we had before our next bus left. I had a woollen jumper, given to me by the wonderful David and Vicky way back in Johannesburg but the only warm clothes Bryce and Steve had were cotton. So we all (I) made a ruckus about it (“Cotton!”) and eventually they both wound up buying woollen fleece or poly jumpers.
Part of our walking around the town was past the great Te Anau Lake. This inspired us to find fish and chips for lunch – especially after our effort in Greymouth. We found a place along the main drag with a big sign on the roof proclaiming some of the best fish in town. In we pop and the friendly girl behind the counter tells us that unfortunately the fryer won’t be switched on for another 20mins, but if we really want the best fish experience around we should wander down the street to a place called The Ranch or The Castle or something, a pub-restaurant that serves it better, and it’s cheaper there too!
We were a little taken back by this spiel – it wouldn’t be everywhere that turned down your business and told you where to go to find something better. So off down the street we head, and sure enough, there is The Ranch, or The Castle, or something; a pub-restaurant that isn’t yet open. While waiting and perusing the menu a waitress steps out to start setting up tables. We question her about fish and chips and she is just as friendly and forthcoming as the last girl, and again is unable to satisfy our needs! The only fish on their menu is some gourmet meal that “costs $30 and it’s only a couple of bits!”
Our shock at this response was matched only by our ability to make fun of the situation. For our third attempt we tried a wholesome looking café nearby that looked open, and looked certain to not sell fish. Here we ate remarkably wholesome food at thoroughly cheap prices
I was still feeling tired, and was having to stop myself from getting grumpy, and to me it seemed too soon that we had to leave this easy, pleasant little abode and trudge back down to the Department of Conservation Hut for the bus ride to the ferry ride to the track.
We caught the bus, we drank a bottle of wine on the ferry (the last place to have it before we’d have to carry the empty bottle out of the track) and we jumped out onto the track that would define us for the next four days and three nights. This was exciting enough to calm me down; funny how quickly your attitude can change. But there was the thrill of uncertainty and challenge, and there was the freedom of isolation and independence, and the beauty of ancient mountains and virgin forest. And we were as set as we’d ever be and up for whatever would come.
It was an early rise, our last morning in Queenstown, to catch the first bus to Te Anau. I was really feeling it – wasted that is. Many nights of little sleep, days packed with action and adventure were finally taking their toll. We stood on the street corner where we’d been instructed to wait for the coach, and soon became a little nervous that we were only 15mins for departure, but there was no coach and no other people around either. I was so beat I hardly cared and was just leaning up against a wall trying to think straight. Steve wasn’t a whole lot better, but helped walk around looking. Bryce was the man – he found, down the street, the name of the shop our tickets were booked through, and someone nearby who quickly showed us where to go – one block behind and half a block down from our instructions – thanks ANZCRO. We made it with no time to spare, the coach had even waited for us thank goodness.
On the coach I slept, as I think each of us did. Soon we arrived in Te Anau, piled off the coach and went looking for the Department of Conservation hut where we were to pay for our transfers and confirm our places on the track. The walk from the bus stop to the hut was a bit of
a wake-up call – these packs are not light! We paid our dues and then went to gather more info on the trek – a pamphlet and a video were on hand. We picked up a few points of info from these, mostly just some items we hadn’t thought to bring, but also a caution we’d heard before came through again – don’t wear cotton! It doesn’t dry and is heavy and cold when wet, and the Milford area gets about 7m of rainfall a year, so we were bound to get satched.We left our packs at this hut and wandered back into town to buy supplies and lunch in the few hours we had before our next bus left. I had a woollen jumper, given to me by the wonderful David and Vicky way back in Johannesburg but the only warm clothes Bryce and Steve had were cotton. So we all (I) made a ruckus about it (“Cotton!”) and eventually they both wound up buying woollen fleece or poly jumpers.
Part of our walking around the town was past the great Te Anau Lake. This inspired us to find fish and chips for lunch – especially after our effort in Greymouth. We found a place along the main drag with a big sign on the roof proclaiming some of the best fish in town. In we pop and the friendly girl behind the counter tells us that unfortunately the fryer won’t be switched on for another 20mins, but if we really want the best fish experience around we should wander down the street to a place called The Ranch or The Castle or something, a pub-restaurant that serves it better, and it’s cheaper there too!
We were a little taken back by this spiel – it wouldn’t be everywhere that turned down your business and told you where to go to find something better. So off down the street we head, and sure enough, there is The Ranch, or The Castle, or something; a pub-restaurant that isn’t yet open. While waiting and perusing the menu a waitress steps out to start setting up tables. We question her about fish and chips and she is just as friendly and forthcoming as the last girl, and again is unable to satisfy our needs! The only fish on their menu is some gourmet meal that “costs $30 and it’s only a couple of bits!”
Our shock at this response was matched only by our ability to make fun of the situation. For our third attempt we tried a wholesome looking café nearby that looked open, and looked certain to not sell fish. Here we ate remarkably wholesome food at thoroughly cheap prices
I was still feeling tired, and was having to stop myself from getting grumpy, and to me it seemed too soon that we had to leave this easy, pleasant little abode and trudge back down to the Department of Conservation Hut for the bus ride to the ferry ride to the track.
We caught the bus, we drank a bottle of wine on the ferry (the last place to have it before we’d have to carry the empty bottle out of the track) and we jumped out onto the track that would define us for the next four days and three nights. This was exciting enough to calm me down; funny how quickly your attitude can change. But there was the thrill of uncertainty and challenge, and there was the freedom of isolation and independence, and the beauty of ancient mountains and virgin forest. And we were as set as we’d ever be and up for whatever would come.
posted by Tim at 12:00 am
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home