"Fjord" Or "Sound" - Stunning

Thursday 14 December

Today is advertised as highlight of the tour – visiting Milford Sound, with its stunning scenery and waterfalls, so it was with great anticipation that we left Te Anau at 08.00, retracing our steps to Mossgiel before turning off into the Fjordland National Park. All laundry, rubbish and waste materials all have to be removed from the National Parks, and most in this area is brought to Te Anau.

We followed the Eglington River, finding its course through the softest layers of schist rock lining the hills, with indigenous trees clinging to the sparse soil - like the cabbage trees which the Maoris used extensively - the leaves of this palm style tree were made into baskets and rainwear, or to put into salads, while the bulbous roots were cooked on the fire, and the bark boiled and used for colic or upset stomachs – and Toi-toi (similar to what we call pampas grass) where the flowers were milled for flour - and tea trees, producing the most powerful oil of the species, the leaves being boiled for medicinal purposes like sore throats and the bark used for bandaging. New Zealand bees are not honey gatherers, so the Europeans introduced the honey bees and researchers have since found that the honey from bees feeding on the tea trees have antibacterial properties and they have developed bandages impregnated with the honey which are widely used in hospitals here and in Australia, and apparently the UK National Health Service has recently invested in large quantities of these bandages. They started building the road through here in the 1930’s as a work initiative in the depression, and the workers settlement became known as “Knob’s Flat” after one of the workers. Today it is a camping area, where lots of locals come to fish and walk and climb mountains. We wandered through a boardwalk nearby, known as the Lake of Mirrors, where the sun reflects the surrounding mountains in the still water – not quite as good as the photos we got on Hamilton Island, but still very impressive.

The mountain peaks here are still covered in snow, despite the fact that summer officially started on 1 December. There has been two heavy falls since then, covering all the mountains in a thick layer of snow – in some areas they are wary of having avalanches if any more snow arrives (there has been two white Christmases here in the last ten years). Floods often affect the region throughout the year, which bring down rocks and even whole trees to block the road. Most of the large, very tall trees in this area are beech (evergreens, not deciduous like at home), with a shallow root system that allows them to grow in the very thin soil covering the fragmented rocks.

On the road a long narrow tunnel passes through a mountain, which was hewn by hand, so that the sides are extremely uneven and there are several protrusions. The entry is controlled by traffic lights between 08.00 and 20.00 during the summer months, making it single file, as wide coaches and camper vans have been known to get stuck, or collide on their way through. It is only lit at the same time as the traffic lights are operating, very small and ineffective, as it still seemed pitch black to me as we passed through – I wouldn’t want to be driving through when it operates as a two lane road.

We arrived at Milford Sound just in time to catch our boat to sail towards the Tasman Sea. The opening to Milford Sound was not seen by Captain Cook when he was sailing round New Zealand, as it is protected by a saddle of rock, near the entrance. In 1809 John Grono, a seafaring captain from Milford Haven, was looking for a safe mooring from a storm, and sailed into the Sound, where he found and abundance of woodhens, parrots and emus – a more than plentiful food supply – and until 1826 he made this his base for his catching seals. It was not until the late 1870’s that more Europeans began to settle here, and the Milford
Track was set up for people traveling overland. Today this track is a well known trail, with accommodation along the way, and is heavily regulated by the National Parks Commission to ensure that nothing in the area is changed – no litter, no camping, no off-trail walking, so that the plants and animals are preserved in their natural habitat. We heard that last week a group of fifteen had to be airlifted off the trail as they had been stricken with the same bug that has been attacking our coach.

We boarded the boat and ate our lunch (the food we had purchased yesterday) before going to the top deck to take in the sun and look at the mountainous scenery surrounding us. Technically Milford is not a “sound”, as that refers to a river valley that has been flooded by the sea, but is a “fjord” which is a glacial valley flooded by the sea – but “fjord” was not a word in the English language when John Grono named it after his home town). Today, it is very like the fjords in Norway, only much wider and not so many waterfalls – when it rains (which apparently it does often), there are apparently hundreds of waterfalls, and one whole cliff face is called “Waterfall Mountain” as it turns into one large area of water dropping hundreds of feet from above, which would be quite impressive. But the mountains were majestic as we cruised towards the Tasman Sea. As we stood on deck, nearing the entrance to the Sound at St Anne’s Point – where there is a lighthouse to help sailors avoid disaster on the rocks along the coast - the wind was blowing almost gale force in our faces, and we could see waves thundering against the base of the mountains in a white foam, despite the sun shining warmly from above.

Returning back to port, we passed close in to some of the waterfalls, getting splashed by the fine misty curtain being blown out from the cliffs. Large brown furry seals were reclining on rocks in the sun, waiting for the tide to bring the water up again, so they could float off. Lots of hawks soared in the thermals overhead, but we didn’t see penguins or dolphins, both of which are supposed to frequent this area.

One strange phenomena about Milford Sound is that with the very heavy rainfall in this area, when the ocean enters the calm waters here, the seawater acquires a surface layer of freshwater. Less dense than the seawater, the massive run-off from the mountains forms a layer on the surface that floats above the saltwater. This is often the colour of ‘weak tea’ as on its journey by way of rivers, streams, and waterfalls, the rainwater becomes stained by tannin and other organic matter from the forest floor. But today it was just navy blue.

The whole journey lasted about three hours and we had to hurry off the boat as we had a train to catch at 16.00 and about 150 kms to travel in slightly less than two hours! The countryside changed from gorges and mountains back to wide green glacial valleys with farms and woodland. We encountered a flock of sheep being herded across the road by a sheep dog – strange that the dog singled out one lone sheep and left it behind in the field. The farmer got out of his truck, manhandled a couple of sheep who had strayed down the road over the fence to join the flock, and closed both gates – leaving little “Billy-no-mates” on his own.

We arrived at a little village called Fairlight to find an old cream wooden station and a large black steam engine waiting by the platform, hooting and puffing smoke from its chimney to greet us. It was an old ‘Ab Pacific’ class locomotive, built in New Zealand, pulling five steam heated vintage carriages dating back to 1898 – two carriages were first class, one divided into compartments with green leather-buttoned seats and the corridor outside with black wire screens to keep us from falling off, and one open carriage with comfy, high back, green leather chairs – two carriages were second class, kitted out in red upholstery – and one buffet car, with pale wooden seats and a bar, today serving “cream teas” – a cup of tea or coffee with a scotch pancake, strawberry jam, cream and kiwi fruit, or coconut and chocolate cake. The train had been chartered by AAT Kings, our tour company, to take us (the eight Train Tour people and a few others who had opted to join us) on the half-hour journey through to Kingston, at the southern end of Lake Wakatipu, 14 kms away, originally linking the farmland with a ferry that would take goods and passengers up the lake to Queenstown (Kingston was originally named Kingstown, after Prince Albert, and Queenstown is in recognition of Queen Victoria). We chugged and puffed along the track, many people gathering at the level crossings to wave. We stood on the footplates as well as trying out all the carriages. The trip was over much too quickly. The coach was waiting to pick us up, many of the group taking advantage to take some more photos of the train.

We were staying at the Millennium Hotel in Queenstown, on the hill as you entered the town. Our relief driver took us on a quick tour of the town, as we had to find food on our own tonight. The town is on the edge of Lake Wakitapi, the third largest lake in New Zealand, 84 kms long in an “S” shape, and 5 kms wide at its broadest. It is another example of a lake formed in a glacial valley, and is surrounded by snow topped mountains. There are a couple of ski fields around here and in winter this area is just as full with visitors as in the glorious summer months when people come to fish, swim and boat around the lake.

The evening was very warm and the sunshine extremely bright so we decided to walk down the short cut called Hotops Walk, which took us right into the centre of the town. We wandered around window shopping – this area has lots of expensive designer shops so it was probably just as well that most were closed - before stopping in the pedestrianised street, where there were several pavement cafes and restaurants to choose from for a drink. We chose a table outside at ‘Captains’, a bistro restaurant and supped some local wine and beer. The waiter was very persuasive about dining there, so we moved to a table, just inside the door – we had been warned that when the sun went down, the temperature would drop dramatically – as much as 20 or more degrees C on a fine cloudless day like today – so that we could just see the sky as the sun went down. Two of the reasons for choosing this restaurant were that it had oysters for entrée an interesting lamb dish for main course. However, when perusing the menu more closely, I still chose oysters to start, but Colin chose calarmari, and I chose a pork dish, while Colin changed his mind and went for “groper”, a white meaty New Zealand fish, served with fettuccine – I think it was the pasta that did it! We chose a “Cornerstone Merlot” to accompany the food, on the recommendation of the waitress and it was delicious – will have to seek this one out when we get home. Through the door, we could see the light changing from bright yellow to dusky pink and violet, and the temperature definitely did get much cooler quite quickly, but not as cold as I had feared.

We wandered back up the hill to the hotel. I did manage to complete the blog entry I had started yesterday, but by that time bed was calling. We have a “free” day tomorrow – no coach rides – but we are going to be busy.