Well hello there! It’s been a while- we have been navigating
the winding roads and cozy hostels of the south island, which does not provide
much opportunity for Internet access! As I sit amongst the most glorious home
garden listening to the squawk of the pukekos, I can’t say that I’ve
really missed constant access to the World Wide Web…. But I figure that if I
don’t provide an update now, I will never get around to it!
The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of rain &
shine, smiles & tears, excitement & relaxation, and everything
in-between. Because you have a life,
I’ll just provide you with some highlights along the way. I hardly know where to
begin...
close to The Beginning
Day 4- It started to rain… and it didn’t stop; subsequently,
we we’re unable to hike into our campsite on the Able Tasman Great Walk.
Bummer, right? But it turns out that our judgment was spot on because that same
day a flooded river washed
two campervans away just northeast of our trek (everyone was fine…
surprisingly relaxed even as they described waking up partially submerged). Our
journey could only go up from here!!
Day 7- We came upon Fox Village, the most beautiful place in
the whole country. Surrounded by lush rainforest ascending into snow-capped
peaks and blue glaciers, this area surpasses any other location we’ve been.
We enjoyed a unique perspective of
the village and surrounding area when we jumped out of a plane 12,000 feet
above it on Day 8. After a restless sleep (afraid we would miss the alarm), we
fumbled around in a nervous, sleep-deprived stupor to get ourselves in order.
Everything happened so quickly once we arrived- no time to feel worried!
Following a quick debrief and some GoPro photos, we boarded the tiny red &
yellow plane.
As we gained altitude, we each got a personal tour of the Tasman
Sea, rainforest, glacial valleys, and the Southern Alps below. Consistent with
the rest of the morning, there was no mucking about once we reached 12,000 ft;
Francois threw open the door and he and Chris scooted toward the gusty
threshold.
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| Chris about to jump! |
Then POOF, they were gone and it was my turn. Mere words are cruelly
inadequate to illustrate what happened, but we were too cheap to buy the DVD
package! As we sat at the edge of the plane, all I could do was smile. Tilting,
tilting, whoosh! We were just falling- but it hardly felt that way because
there was no point of reference. Forty-five seconds felt like an eternity as we
gracefully careened toward Earth. I thought the view from the plane was
gorgeous, but the scene exhibited a profound new grace when unobstructed by
man’s mechanical fowl. Our descent gently eased as the parachute billowed out
behind us. Fluidly, we glided through the atmosphere. After minor acrobatics, a
turn for me at the reigns, and wistful updrafts (that I wished would keep us up
forever), we aimed for the tiny red arrow in the landing area.
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| Kim & Paul |
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| Chris & Francois |
Reunited on the
green grass, Chris and I reveled in our leaps of faith- drunk on altitude.
Then it was all over and life as we
knew it was the same. You expect an event like this to change your life in some
way. It was incredible and we will never forget it, but there will never be
anything quite like being in that moment. This is certainly not our last
skydiving endeavor.
Day 10- Driving into the Queenstown-area valley was
something out of a dream. Billowing hills folded endlessly in and out of one
another. A curious river wound its way among the nooks of the valley floor. A
lazy blue sky sheltered the lush greenery below. The shadows of playful clouds
danced amongst the deep slopes of the knolls. Along with every other car on the
highway, we skidded to a swerving halt at the scenic lookout precariously
perched on the side of a cliff.
If we decide to live
in NZ someday more permanently (and have heaps and heaps of money) we will move
to Queenstown. It has such a wonderful vibe.
Day 11- We decided that we needed a few more “extreme”
ventures on our itinerary and we knew that this was the town to do it in. Our
day began with a white water rafting trip. To get to the starting point we had
to drive (the bus full of people with a trailer of rafts attached) over the
most dangerous road in the country, Skipper’s
Canyon. Once we reached the water, it was smooth sailing with Class 3 to 5
rapids. The water was absolutely frigid, but our wetsuits were 5mm- we went for
a swim when we got the opportunity. Our guide took a swim too… involuntarily on
the last, most violent, rapid. He was fine and the photographer got a great
shot of his leg peaking out above the crashing waves.
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| There is a better picture where Chris is epically charging into the rapid, but I don't have it yet. |
Next on the
thrilling agenda was the Nevis Swing, the
world’s largest swing. For some strange reason, this procured far more anxiety
than skydiving and it was not nearly as fun. Freefalling 30 some meters into a
canyon was very exciting, but it is something we are fine doing only once.
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| That tiny spec is us falling... |
Now we are onto Day 19. The past week we have been WWOOFers at Halfmoon Cottage. Beyond relaxing, we
spend the first few hours of the day (starting at 9am) working on the expansive
and enamoring garden and then doing daily housework for the 5-room hostel.
Around 11am, we’re summoned for morning tea and then the day is ours. This is
the life.
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| Our own little cottage |
We had a “day off” a couple of days ago and we took the kayak into the bay. Paddling along, we made friends with some dolphins!! After following one for some time, he got too far ahead and we began to mull about in a stony outlet. Only a few minutes later, our little friend popped back up and played with our kayak for another half an hour. I can't seem to get the video on here, but you should check out our epic encounter on Facebook.
We have a few more days making our way back up to the North
Island where we will head to Auckland, sell our car, and venture back into The
States. I still need to pet a sheep- as it turns out, they are pretty skittish.
Sending heaps of love!
