Not too long later our boat arrived and we were bidding farewell to our kiwi mates and heading back across the sound to Milford Sound (the town).
Milford Sound is very small. As in a population of a hundred or so. Standing outside the bus/ferry terminal where we came in we found ourselves at a loss on how to get to the airport. We just missed a free shuttle bus, and no-one could tell us when it would be back. We asked one bloke who was standing next to a fancy looking 4WD if he was on his way to the airport. He said he wasn’t but pointed us in the right direction to walk there. Very reluctantly we started the trudge towards the airport, and just on our way out we saw the shuttle bus pull back in. Man how we ran to catch that bus, and we made it just in time. 
Because we’d spent four days on the track we hadn’t confirmed our scenic flight to Queenstown and were now alone on the tarmac at the airport, completely unsure of what to do. I went off down the road to find a phone to call the flight company with (no mobile reception in Milford Sound), and Bryce and Steve waited around to see what would pop up at the airport.
Turns out we both got the job done, and also it wasn’t long before a string of other people arrived. One fancy 4WD pulled in and Steve said “hey, wasn’t that the bloke who told us he wasn’t going to the airport?” I said “no, close, but that’s not the car. … but that is” as right at that moment the first fancy 4WD pulled in! We quizzed the driver who sheepishly said he didn’t know where he was going before his clients jumped in.
In no time we were on the plane, taking off and marvelling at the scenery. It was great to see all these mountains from above – we paid an extra $170 to fly home in an hour over scenery instead of bus home in 6-8hrs, in a bus. We all appreciated each of these aspects now, and Steve went further by appreciated the steady drone of the engines and falling asleep.
Soon enough we were coming in to land, making our approach perpendicular to the tarmac runway in Queenstown, causing Steve and Bryce to be very awake with “what the hell?” anxiety for a bit, until we touched down safely.
We were never so glad to arrive at a hotel as we were that evening. Long hot showers and time in the spa later we were deciding the finer details of dinner. The hotel restaurant put on a steak and prawn buffet, so that’s where we went - taking much more liberty of the buffet concept than the wait staff would have liked.
We had to break foran intermission though, to return to our room and open our splendid bottle of St Clair White Label Reserve 2005 Sauvignon Blanc. We were sure to drink it out of camp utensils and to video such commemoration. This was truly the end of the track now, it had become mere memory.
Back into the restaurant for desert and then off to bed. But not before putting in a call to Ash to say hi and brag that we were still alive. I also got to talk with Susanne, and even arranged to meet both her and Ash at Christchurch airport where we were stopping over the next day.
Everything taken care of, we gave up our consciousness and drifted around the land of dreams.
Our final day on holiday began well, Steve and I made the plane from Queenstown fine, and as a pleasant surprise even sat just behind a couple of our kiwi mates from the Milford Track.
I met up with Susanne at Christchurch airport where we spend a couple of hours lazing with each other, and later joined Steve and Susan (another Connections lass) at the bar for the last drink of our trip.
Soon it was time to hit customs. Susanne went through while Steve and I paid our departure taxes. Just before we went through Ash rang saying he was on his way out to the airport and to wait for him. I was momentarily torn between holiday romance and holiday mateship, but sent Susanne a message to say I’d be late through and then proceeded to get lost round the airport looking for Steve and Ash. I did manage to find them shortly and we had a grand reminisce and sharing of stories. After a bit I went up to o through customs – skipping the queue and met Susanne. We spent sweet final minutes together. She was the very last to board her flight, and we blew kisses to each other in farewell and goodbye of what was among the grandest of things.
And soon enough it was me boarding, with Steve, the means of returning to ‘normal’ living, having lived a little more outside the standard, and armed with enough of this extra-life to hold over until the next adventure.
Milford Sound is very small. As in a population of a hundred or so. Standing outside the bus/ferry terminal where we came in we found ourselves at a loss on how to get to the airport. We just missed a free shuttle bus, and no-one could tell us when it would be back. We asked one bloke who was standing next to a fancy looking 4WD if he was on his way to the airport. He said he wasn’t but pointed us in the right direction to walk there. Very reluctantly we started the trudge towards the airport, and just on our way out we saw the shuttle bus pull back in. Man how we ran to catch that bus, and we made it just in time. 
Because we’d spent four days on the track we hadn’t confirmed our scenic flight to Queenstown and were now alone on the tarmac at the airport, completely unsure of what to do. I went off down the road to find a phone to call the flight company with (no mobile reception in Milford Sound), and Bryce and Steve waited around to see what would pop up at the airport.
Turns out we both got the job done, and also it wasn’t long before a string of other people arrived. One fancy 4WD pulled in and Steve said “hey, wasn’t that the bloke who told us he wasn’t going to the airport?” I said “no, close, but that’s not the car. … but that is” as right at that moment the first fancy 4WD pulled in! We quizzed the driver who sheepishly said he didn’t know where he was going before his clients jumped in.
In no time we were on the plane, taking off and marvelling at the scenery. It was great to see all these mountains from above – we paid an extra $170 to fly home in an hour over scenery instead of bus home in 6-8hrs, in a bus. We all appreciated each of these aspects now, and Steve went further by appreciated the steady drone of the engines and falling asleep.Soon enough we were coming in to land, making our approach perpendicular to the tarmac runway in Queenstown, causing Steve and Bryce to be very awake with “what the hell?” anxiety for a bit, until we touched down safely.
We were never so glad to arrive at a hotel as we were that evening. Long hot showers and time in the spa later we were deciding the finer details of dinner. The hotel restaurant put on a steak and prawn buffet, so that’s where we went - taking much more liberty of the buffet concept than the wait staff would have liked.We had to break foran intermission though, to return to our room and open our splendid bottle of St Clair White Label Reserve 2005 Sauvignon Blanc. We were sure to drink it out of camp utensils and to video such commemoration. This was truly the end of the track now, it had become mere memory.
Back into the restaurant for desert and then off to bed. But not before putting in a call to Ash to say hi and brag that we were still alive. I also got to talk with Susanne, and even arranged to meet both her and Ash at Christchurch airport where we were stopping over the next day.
Everything taken care of, we gave up our consciousness and drifted around the land of dreams.
Our final day on holiday began well, Steve and I made the plane from Queenstown fine, and as a pleasant surprise even sat just behind a couple of our kiwi mates from the Milford Track.
I met up with Susanne at Christchurch airport where we spend a couple of hours lazing with each other, and later joined Steve and Susan (another Connections lass) at the bar for the last drink of our trip.
Soon it was time to hit customs. Susanne went through while Steve and I paid our departure taxes. Just before we went through Ash rang saying he was on his way out to the airport and to wait for him. I was momentarily torn between holiday romance and holiday mateship, but sent Susanne a message to say I’d be late through and then proceeded to get lost round the airport looking for Steve and Ash. I did manage to find them shortly and we had a grand reminisce and sharing of stories. After a bit I went up to o through customs – skipping the queue and met Susanne. We spent sweet final minutes together. She was the very last to board her flight, and we blew kisses to each other in farewell and goodbye of what was among the grandest of things.
And soon enough it was me boarding, with Steve, the means of returning to ‘normal’ living, having lived a little more outside the standard, and armed with enough of this extra-life to hold over until the next adventure.
posted by Tim at 12:00 am
2 Comments:
i like the plane photo :)
Great tale Tim - accurately and well told. I had a great laugh!
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