Not much more to tell really. Got up at unattractive hour Wednesday morning to catch the plane from Santiago, arrived at Sao Paulo lunchtime, spent the afternoon watching the rain bucket down at the airport, followed by 11 hours home to London overnight - bumpy due to South American thunderstorms. All smooth however by the time we arrived into somewhat colder - like about 30 degrees, Celsius that is - Heathrow this morning around 8am. I was home for 10, and in plenty of time to pick Ellen up from school at noon. In some ways odd, and in other ways just totally normal, to be standing out there again with the other mums (not many dads on the lunchtime shift) in the playground. Ellen and Martha surprisingly delighted to see me - I find the way my children look at/to me as a parent as they get older increasingly scary/overwhelming/moving/motivating (delete all, any or none of the above according to mood).
Before signing off, please forgive some thank you's... To my parents and Kate's mum Jill for looking after the girls at various points and in various places over the last two months, to Janet our au pair for taking it all in her stride and working above & beyond the call of duty (it will be easier when you get back in January, honestly!), to everyone who came round or invited out Kate and/or the girls while I was away, to Adam at Flightcentre for stringing together an impossible looking itinerary with no real notice and sorting a couple of mini-crises en route, to everyone who commented back on the blog via email, Facebook or the blog itself (we're all so 21st century...), to everyone I met and travelled with in all the various places for being without exception totally excellent companions, to Martha and Ellen for being good (so I hear), and last - but really first - to Kate for foolishly suggesting the whole thing in the first place and then being endlessly positive and supportive of seeing it through.
That's it then, here endeth the blog. See you all back in the real world, and meanwhile have a great Christmas/Festive season and a very happy new year.
Thursday, 20 December 2007
Wednesday, 19 December 2007
Day 61
It´s day 61 and finally, absolutely, the last real day of my trip. I´m back in Santiago after flying 1,000 miles over the Andes from Punta Arenas last night.I pop my head outdoors and it´s sweltering, 30C or so by the middle of the day, clear blue skies and a seriously hot summer sun (those in the UK probably didn´t want to hear that...)
After not doing so very much here last week I feel a bit obliged to spread my wings a little further. So after fortifying myself with breakfast at Bonafide, definitely the best coffee shop I´ve found in central Santiago, I head off to Bellavista district and the funicular up to the statue of virgin Mary and a view out over the city. In the afternoon there´s time for some last minute shopping - including for Pisco so I can make the Sours over Christmas - before heading back to Bellavista to meet up with Sarah and Andy for last dinner and the odd drink before I head home and they move on to LA (they are also doing a RTW trip but are only half way round and going the other way). I had meant to get a taxi back to the hotel but it´s so warm out I walk the half hour or so back in shirtsleeves at midnight, in the knowledge this probably won´t be possible back in the UK for a while. Grab Hotel Espana´s free internet to update the blog, then head for bed with just a few hours before taxi due to arrive to take me to the airport and start the 24 hours home. Though I can't quite put my finger on why, I've ended up quite affectionate towards this place.
Tuesday, 18 December 2007
The P Word (Chile)
I haven´t been here long and my lack of Spanish makes it difficult to get under the skin of the place, so I could be wrong, but still I´m struck by the absence of any mention of Pinochet here (favourable or otherwise). There are no statues (one way or the other), no memorials to the disappeared, no exhibitions in the national history museum on the dictatorship. In the bookshops a good few volumes on new, smart, 21st century President Michelle Bachelet, and at the back, maybe gathering a little bit of dust, something on Salvadore Allende, but on Pinochet, just nothing. It´s as if the whole time didn´t exist - that the man wasn´t President for 17 years, commander in chief of the army for 25 years until 1998. I go down to the Moneda Palace, scene of that other 11th September, 1973, and find nothing much. No plaques, no history/geography of the coup, nothing really. In a corner at the back of the palace, across the road from the Ministry of Justice (possibly appropriate) there is a statue of Allende amongst various other Presidents, with some enigmatic words from his final radio address from the Palace as the coup was happening around him - "I have faith in Chile and its destiny", but no mention that the elected President of the Republic either committed suicide or was murdered not more than 100m away. And Pinochet - he doesn´t get a statue (though that seems fairly reasonable in the circumstances).
It´s all a big contrast to South Africa. Maybe it´s true that not so many died here, but thousands did, many just ´disappearing´, and it seems all just forgotten, best glossed over. Chile seems happy to be the western liberal state it now is, and we´re all happy to see it that too, but I wonder how people feel who were caught up in the Pinochet repression because there seems remarkably little public acknowledgement of it now - I guess you´re left to deal with it largely alone. That was my impression anyway.
It´s all a big contrast to South Africa. Maybe it´s true that not so many died here, but thousands did, many just ´disappearing´, and it seems all just forgotten, best glossed over. Chile seems happy to be the western liberal state it now is, and we´re all happy to see it that too, but I wonder how people feel who were caught up in the Pinochet repression because there seems remarkably little public acknowledgement of it now - I guess you´re left to deal with it largely alone. That was my impression anyway.
Ah, Condor
Sunday 16th December.I went to Ecuador in 1996 and in 3 weeks never saw the big bird of the Andes. Here in Chile they seem to be two a penny (see pic) - apart from when we go looking for them of course.
Sunday morning we set off to see the nests close up. Four hours, two steep hills, a few downpours and no condors later, we give up. Over lunch I hopefully suggest maybe walking will be on the level for the final afternoon? Not exactly. For some reason we wind up climbing the second hill again, I have a suspicion we might just be filling out the time a bit until Carlos meets us with the van at 4.30... (surely not!). Still, the weather brightens and with it my mood, some condors fly out to tease us and we walk south as blue skies open up over the mountains behind us. At 4.45 we are at the bridge over the River Paine, meet Carlos as planned, take obligatory end of trek photo (see attached) and that´s it, all over, we´re done.
This is where it ends
Saturday 15th December.
We´ve wound up at a (much better) campsite south of the W, looking back at it across one of the lakes (see pic), a glass or two of Chilean red helping the effect along.
Later, standing by the edge of the lake on my own, it strikes me that this is the moment this journey ends. This is the end of forward progress - though we have a good day´s walking planned for tomorrow, and a couple of other distractions over the next few days - everything now starts to be about gradually getting home. I´m not sad, it all feels complete and right, all much more than I could really have reasonably expected, somehow more than the sum of its parts - though the parts individually distinct and great in their own ways - and for good measure ending with a particularly stunning one. What more can anyone ask? Now - it is time to go home.
We´ve wound up at a (much better) campsite south of the W, looking back at it across one of the lakes (see pic), a glass or two of Chilean red helping the effect along.
Later, standing by the edge of the lake on my own, it strikes me that this is the moment this journey ends. This is the end of forward progress - though we have a good day´s walking planned for tomorrow, and a couple of other distractions over the next few days - everything now starts to be about gradually getting home. I´m not sad, it all feels complete and right, all much more than I could really have reasonably expected, somehow more than the sum of its parts - though the parts individually distinct and great in their own ways - and for good measure ending with a particularly stunning one. What more can anyone ask? Now - it is time to go home.
Homage to Patagonia
December 12th-14th.Day 2 a bit uninspiring - murky and what we should be seeing is behind cloud. Still it doesn´t rain that much and at the end of the day we seem to meet a stream of people walking the other way who have been lashed by cold and wet for hours on end and not seen anything.
Next day is suddenly and without warning clear and bright - maybe not all the postcards have needed Photoshop after all. We walk up the French Valley, which the previous day people had abandoned as pointless. This is the middle bit of the "W", and a bit of a set piece on days like this. Paine Grande, the highest mountain, though still a bit pathetic by Himalayan standards at 3,000m, is in good avalanche form - every 10 mins or so there´s a thunderous crack and another huge pile of powder comes crashing down the slopes.
At the look out we reach for lunch we get one of the most stunning 360 degree views I´ve seen, as the last of the few clouds disappear leaving a perfect deep blue sky - mountains of various sorts on 3 sides and a view down onto the huge lake at the bottom. Patagonia is far more tarty with its charms than discreet Bhutan - the mountains and lakes are unsubtle, brash, drop-dead gorgeous and constantly changing their look around every corner to hold your attention and demand your approval (and it works).
We spend the evening slumped in the comfy chairs in the bar at Paine Grande refugio, sipping probably a couple too many (but is there such a thing?) Pisco Sours. Helpfully the bar has been situated with big picture windows out onto a postcard-perfect view, and being this far south at midsummer, the sunset goes on all evening.
Next day we walk up the side of Lake Grey (left hand side of the W), which has a huge glacier at the other end. Not as huge as it was though - it´s retreated 2km in 10 years - you can see the bare rock at the sides where the vegetation hasn´t got going yet. Down to earth with a bump tonight - camping, and not the best of sites, grotty showers and guys building a new office for glacier trekking until midnight. Also a distinct lack of Pisco Sours, with which we might have forgiven (or forgotten) the other stuff.
Wow Moment (2)
Tuesday 11th December.
Another 2 hour drive north to the Torres del Paine National Park. We are trekking the "W" for the next four days - as it´s a roughly W-shaped walk, starting with the right hand side bit. Then we´ve a couple of add-on days at the end doing some extra stuff.
It´s blowing a gale and raining on and off - so not too bad then, says Eduardo, at least you can see the mountains in front of us. After three hours we get to first night refugio and reserve ourselves the best beds (floor level - upper bunks to be avoided where possible). Then it´s an hour through the forest and another hour up over boulders. The towers, four unlikely shaped (due to being new apparently) spires have been in front of us for a while, but it´s only when you climb up over the last boulder that the jaw-dropping bit happens, as it turns out we´ve only been seeing the top of them and suddenly they are there, huge, falling away into a vast valley with a green lake at the bottom.
We hang around a bit too long taking too many photos, and by the time we leave the rain is chasing us down the hillside. Spend the evening with the first wine box I´ve had possibly since I was a student, watching the wind and rain lash the refugio (which it goes on to do all night) and the campers enjoying their authentic Patagonian experience of putting tents up in it.
Another 2 hour drive north to the Torres del Paine National Park. We are trekking the "W" for the next four days - as it´s a roughly W-shaped walk, starting with the right hand side bit. Then we´ve a couple of add-on days at the end doing some extra stuff.
It´s blowing a gale and raining on and off - so not too bad then, says Eduardo, at least you can see the mountains in front of us. After three hours we get to first night refugio and reserve ourselves the best beds (floor level - upper bunks to be avoided where possible). Then it´s an hour through the forest and another hour up over boulders. The towers, four unlikely shaped (due to being new apparently) spires have been in front of us for a while, but it´s only when you climb up over the last boulder that the jaw-dropping bit happens, as it turns out we´ve only been seeing the top of them and suddenly they are there, huge, falling away into a vast valley with a green lake at the bottom.
We hang around a bit too long taking too many photos, and by the time we leave the rain is chasing us down the hillside. Spend the evening with the first wine box I´ve had possibly since I was a student, watching the wind and rain lash the refugio (which it goes on to do all night) and the campers enjoying their authentic Patagonian experience of putting tents up in it.
Punta Arenas - the end of the world (almost)
Monday 10th December.
Lots of places seem to vie for the dubious honour of being at the bottom of South America. To be fair there is still a slither of Chile and a chunk of Argentina to the south, but Punta Arenas does a good job of looking the part. You come in to land on a bleak, flat, treeless wasteland of scrub punctuated by lakes and ocean inlets, and from the ground it looks pretty much the same. Temperature is more like 10C in place of 25C in Santiago. Off the plane I meet the immediately likeable Sarah and Andy (it´s a select group of 3 plus guide Eduardo for the next week) and we drive for 2 hours north without seeing so much as a small hill - maybe I´m on the wrong trip?
Reach base at Puerto Natales and dinner overlooking lake and the mountains beyond that have now happily appeared - and as it stays light until 11pm this time of year this far south, we get to enjoy them throughout.
Key things to know about Patagonia - (1) it´s windy, (2) when it´s not windy it´s very windy. This is summer. Why am I here exactly? Not for the first time, I look at my kit and wonder if I´ve brought the right stuff. Also not for the first time, it´s a bit late to be wondering (though I do manage to get a hat with a strap before we head off into the wilds - this turns out to be an inspired purchase).
Lots of places seem to vie for the dubious honour of being at the bottom of South America. To be fair there is still a slither of Chile and a chunk of Argentina to the south, but Punta Arenas does a good job of looking the part. You come in to land on a bleak, flat, treeless wasteland of scrub punctuated by lakes and ocean inlets, and from the ground it looks pretty much the same. Temperature is more like 10C in place of 25C in Santiago. Off the plane I meet the immediately likeable Sarah and Andy (it´s a select group of 3 plus guide Eduardo for the next week) and we drive for 2 hours north without seeing so much as a small hill - maybe I´m on the wrong trip?
Reach base at Puerto Natales and dinner overlooking lake and the mountains beyond that have now happily appeared - and as it stays light until 11pm this time of year this far south, we get to enjoy them throughout.
Key things to know about Patagonia - (1) it´s windy, (2) when it´s not windy it´s very windy. This is summer. Why am I here exactly? Not for the first time, I look at my kit and wonder if I´ve brought the right stuff. Also not for the first time, it´s a bit late to be wondering (though I do manage to get a hat with a strap before we head off into the wilds - this turns out to be an inspired purchase).
Saturday, 8 December 2007
Santiago
So this city is probably never going to make Top 10 capitals of the world, but there are worse places to find yourself unexpectedly for 4 days.
In the end things resolved themselves more smoothly than could reasonably have been expected. I phoned the Hotel Espana in Santiago, where I am already staying the last two nights of the trip, from Auckland, and happily they had a room free for the next 4 nights. They also fixed a taxi from the airport, and the rescheduled flight ran on time. This also gives me somewhere to leave a big bag of luggage while I am down in Patagonia. I am still feeling philosophical, and surprisingly unrobbed, about Bolivia - it will give me the excuse to go properly, and with Kate, some time.
Meanwhile after 7 weeks on the road, to be in one place for 4 nights in a row for the first time, and without any pressure to do anything much, is a luxury. So I am reading and writing idly and enjoying the minor triumphs of securing coffees and and meals with my very basic Spanish (phrase book bought in NZ now looks a sensible precaution). Jetlag has caught up with me for the first time - I can´t sleep at night but would happily snooze all morning. We are 16 hours behind NZ so maybe not surprising - plus point is Chile is only 3 hours behind UK, so if I can crack it, shouldn´t be a problem when I get home.
Santiago city centre is nothing special, but I quite like the "realness" of it - no tourists and no allowances made by the locals. Apart from when I open my mouth, I can blend in with comfortable anonymity. Christmas preps are now in full swing, which is odd when its 25C outside and clear blue skies and light till 9pm, but there´s a huge Christmas tree in the square next to the main cathedral and Santas in all the department stores.
For the first time I find myself REALLY missing Kate and the girls hard. It´s been there as low level background throughout but now I suddenly want to just be with them and do normal home-like things. That said I am under no illusions about Hollywood-style joyful reunions with my daughters (Kate I have slightly higher hopes of). I had already imagined Ellen - who doesn´t really do "missing people" and dispatched me in October with "I can´t see" (the TV) - coming out of school the day I get back simply with "Daddy, can we do spinning?" Spinning is a bedtime thing - a complex set of jumps off and onto our bed I oversee and which is one of my (few) favourable points of differentiation in their eyes (Kate won´t do it). Kate confirms this has already been raised by them both with some nervousness that I may have forgotten how to...
On Monday I fly south to Punta Arenas, almost at the tip of South America, for the final full week of the trip, trekking in Patagonia. Not expecting too many internet cafes down there, so probably radio silence from me for the next little while.
In the end things resolved themselves more smoothly than could reasonably have been expected. I phoned the Hotel Espana in Santiago, where I am already staying the last two nights of the trip, from Auckland, and happily they had a room free for the next 4 nights. They also fixed a taxi from the airport, and the rescheduled flight ran on time. This also gives me somewhere to leave a big bag of luggage while I am down in Patagonia. I am still feeling philosophical, and surprisingly unrobbed, about Bolivia - it will give me the excuse to go properly, and with Kate, some time.
Meanwhile after 7 weeks on the road, to be in one place for 4 nights in a row for the first time, and without any pressure to do anything much, is a luxury. So I am reading and writing idly and enjoying the minor triumphs of securing coffees and and meals with my very basic Spanish (phrase book bought in NZ now looks a sensible precaution). Jetlag has caught up with me for the first time - I can´t sleep at night but would happily snooze all morning. We are 16 hours behind NZ so maybe not surprising - plus point is Chile is only 3 hours behind UK, so if I can crack it, shouldn´t be a problem when I get home.
Santiago city centre is nothing special, but I quite like the "realness" of it - no tourists and no allowances made by the locals. Apart from when I open my mouth, I can blend in with comfortable anonymity. Christmas preps are now in full swing, which is odd when its 25C outside and clear blue skies and light till 9pm, but there´s a huge Christmas tree in the square next to the main cathedral and Santas in all the department stores.
For the first time I find myself REALLY missing Kate and the girls hard. It´s been there as low level background throughout but now I suddenly want to just be with them and do normal home-like things. That said I am under no illusions about Hollywood-style joyful reunions with my daughters (Kate I have slightly higher hopes of). I had already imagined Ellen - who doesn´t really do "missing people" and dispatched me in October with "I can´t see" (the TV) - coming out of school the day I get back simply with "Daddy, can we do spinning?" Spinning is a bedtime thing - a complex set of jumps off and onto our bed I oversee and which is one of my (few) favourable points of differentiation in their eyes (Kate won´t do it). Kate confirms this has already been raised by them both with some nervousness that I may have forgotten how to...
On Monday I fly south to Punta Arenas, almost at the tip of South America, for the final full week of the trip, trekking in Patagonia. Not expecting too many internet cafes down there, so probably radio silence from me for the next little while.
Tuesday, 4 December 2007
This is a low
Auckland airport - Wednesday morning 11am NZ time. Should be in Santiago...
Sooner or later I guess there had to be glitch.
I get a call from Qantas late Monday to say my Tuesday afternoon flight from Auckland to Santiago, which is a codeshare with LAN, has been delayed 10 hours. Not great, but I can still make La Paz connection at the other end, just an inconvenience. So being smart I (a) book myself into a cheap hotel to get some sleep instead of mooching around the airport, and (b) call them back Tuesday afternoon just in case - yes, flight is still confirmed as delayed 10 hours, please get to airport at 1am. Which I do - to find flight went on time 7 hours previously. Of course the place is deserted but eventually pin down unsuspecting Air NZ employee who finds me a phone and I get to speak with Qantas in Brisbane. Apparently LAN hadn't told them it was going on time after all. I am now booked on the flight 24 hours later to Santiago (I think - the worrying word 'standby' was used when I turned up this morning) but this means I've missed La Paz and can't now do the Bolivia part of the trip. Oh well, just have to be philosophical about these things. I make it a promise to go there with Kate some day - and for longer than 4 days. So if all goes OK from here, I shall have 4 quiet chill out days in Santiago instead, which may be no bad thing either. We shall see - all bets feel like they're a little off right now.
Sooner or later I guess there had to be glitch.
I get a call from Qantas late Monday to say my Tuesday afternoon flight from Auckland to Santiago, which is a codeshare with LAN, has been delayed 10 hours. Not great, but I can still make La Paz connection at the other end, just an inconvenience. So being smart I (a) book myself into a cheap hotel to get some sleep instead of mooching around the airport, and (b) call them back Tuesday afternoon just in case - yes, flight is still confirmed as delayed 10 hours, please get to airport at 1am. Which I do - to find flight went on time 7 hours previously. Of course the place is deserted but eventually pin down unsuspecting Air NZ employee who finds me a phone and I get to speak with Qantas in Brisbane. Apparently LAN hadn't told them it was going on time after all. I am now booked on the flight 24 hours later to Santiago (I think - the worrying word 'standby' was used when I turned up this morning) but this means I've missed La Paz and can't now do the Bolivia part of the trip. Oh well, just have to be philosophical about these things. I make it a promise to go there with Kate some day - and for longer than 4 days. So if all goes OK from here, I shall have 4 quiet chill out days in Santiago instead, which may be no bad thing either. We shall see - all bets feel like they're a little off right now.
Monday, 3 December 2007
The Big B
Bungy that is - from Auckland Harbour Bridge. I know I said I wouldn't (see very first post) but once you're here you kind of get caught up in the idea that it's something you maybe should do once in your life. And it's only about 40 metres straight down to the water from the bungy pod suspended just under the central span...
This is how it goes. You head up from the southern end along the gangways under the bridge, harnessed up, much like the Sydney bridge climb. When you get to the middle it's a climb up ladders to the pod with half a dozen other people also looking vaguely green. Leaps are in order of weight - porkiest first - happily some recent kg loss took me out of pole position. You get clipped on at both your waist (that's how they haul you up after) and your feet (bungy rope attached to a big weight at your feet). Then shuffle along a ledge from the pod, put the heavy thing over the edge, smile for the camera (I didn't do that very well) then the crew helpfully count down, give you a gentle encouraging nudge and then OHHHHHMYYYYYYYGODDDDDDD!!!!. The speed down is amazing, then you get bounced up and down over the water as the bungy rope tightens and slackens, until you pull a release cord at which point you sit in the harness and they pull you up. Simple!
Final thought - it probably is something I only need to do once in my life.
North Island
So North Island is pretty much like South Island, except:
* More people
* More cars
* More geysers (hot spring sort)
* More big cities (1 vs 0)
* More junked up roadside strip-sprawl
* Fewer one lane bridges (I kind of miss them)
* Fewer snow capped peaks (i.e. none)
* More people
* More cars
* More geysers (hot spring sort)
* More big cities (1 vs 0)
* More junked up roadside strip-sprawl
* Fewer one lane bridges (I kind of miss them)
* Fewer snow capped peaks (i.e. none)
* But about the same number of sheep (i.e. lots)
Overall, memorable in NZ has been:
* The big B of course - see next post
* Flat white and sauvignon blanc
* Only having to make two (approx.) road junction decisions a day
* Southern Alps - fab mountain backdrop on South Island, esp. in this weather
* Queenstown, Glenorchy, Napier (art deco that lived up to the hype), Wellington, Auckland (another great harbour city - see pic taken from the Bridge)
* Being on my own with my thoughts and everything being easy
Faintly disappointing:
* Geothermal stuff - bit overly touristified - Iceland better I thought
* Rotorua (avoid!) and Christchurch (nothing wrong with it, just thought it would be nicer)
Overall, memorable in NZ has been:
* The big B of course - see next post
* Flat white and sauvignon blanc
* Only having to make two (approx.) road junction decisions a day
* Southern Alps - fab mountain backdrop on South Island, esp. in this weather
* Queenstown, Glenorchy, Napier (art deco that lived up to the hype), Wellington, Auckland (another great harbour city - see pic taken from the Bridge)
* Being on my own with my thoughts and everything being easy
Faintly disappointing:
* Geothermal stuff - bit overly touristified - Iceland better I thought
* Rotorua (avoid!) and Christchurch (nothing wrong with it, just thought it would be nicer)
* Interislander ferry. If you've been on a cross channel ferry you've got the picture - only it takes twice as long
* Being on my own with my thoughts and everything being easy (it sort of cuts both ways)
* Being on my own with my thoughts and everything being easy (it sort of cuts both ways)
Friday, 30 November 2007
Cloudy Bay
500 miles north and 2 days later I'm at the northern end of the South Island to find myself on the hallowed ground that is Cloudy Bay vineyard. The very vines and grapes that go into (arguably) the ultimate NZ Sauvignon Blanc are there in front of me, and it's tempting to get down and kiss the earth in awe (obviously I don't as this would look a little over-obsessive).Of course, in reality it looks much like any other vineyard - rows of anonymous looking plants surrounding an opulent tasting hall that tells you where some of that premium price goes... Still, like most new world wineries, they're chatty, friendly and happy to hand out as many samples as you think the drink driving laws will take. Also the SB is about 40% of the price it is in the UK - it seems criminal to leave without stocking up on a case or two, but this is no time to undo the good work I've been doing the last 6 weeks in reducing my inevitably overpacked luggage.
The road to Glenorchy
November 28th.
It seems like all the people in Queenstown - 'adventure capital of New Zealand', and friendly relaxed vibey place - are either 20 years younger than me or 20 years older. I guess the 40-somethings are all either at work and/or looking after children (shouldn't you be doing that too, I hear some of you say).
I head off with no particular expectations along the lakeside road, it's not mentioned in the guidebook, but every corner turns out to have another impossibly perfect view. Glenorchy itself is of course tiny but doesn't stop it having three cafes. The one I pick again does a reliably mean flat white and some great brunches to have out back in the garden in the sun looking at the clear blue skies and the mountains. Ho hum, November Wednesdays are always such a drag...
Wednesday, 28 November 2007
NZzzzzzz
This place is so relaxed that my life has slowed to levels only a little above where cryogenics kick in. No complaints about that, mind. The sun keeps shining despite the 5 metres of rainfall I hear they get a year on the west coast (producing some truly beautiful ancient rainforest which I've explored a little of - not too much activity though you understand....). The air is crystal clear (promised in Bhutan but really true here) and driving on the deserted roads there's just the minor stress of who has priority on the one lane bridges to deal with, plus great views served up on a regular basis. Then there's the surprising (and welcome) capacity of a place the size of England with 1m people in it to consistently turn up great coffee shops just when you're starting to think it would be nice to chill for a while with a 'flat white' (sort of latte/macchiato cross, though they have both of those as well). It's also reassuring to see that someone breaking the woman's sheepshearing world record made second item on the TV news yesterday. (In case you're wondering, 650 sheep were sheared in the allotted 12 hours).No wonder the New Zealanders feel obliged to spice things up with a bit of extreme sports now and then (such as attached - no not me).
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