Onward north, my precious.

Having travelled almost the entire length of the south island, we park Bertha for the last time. Though we've enjoyed the freedom of mobile accommodation, we look forward to a proper bed and a toilet that you don't bang your head on the wall whenever you try to sit.

The three hour ferry to the north island is uneventful, the highlight being a pod of dolphins playing along the side of the boat. We reach Wellington, the location that determined the timing and justification for this trip, the first AFL game for match points held outside Australia; not that we need much of an excuse to take a holiday.

Tracey's not-so-inner nerd comes out and within minutes she's on a bus off to the outer burbs to visit the WETA caves. This is were they design and make much of the costumes, weapons and props for films such as Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, District 9 and Narnia. Many of the original items are held there, plus a few life size creatures including Golum and three trolls that tower over you, looking menacingly real.

Disappointingly you can't photograph in the production studios but you'll have to trust that it's super cool. They have a 3D printer and a full-time weaponsmith. Whilst there they were creating life size trees with faces (Ent like) for a private commisioned event.

Meanwhile, Andrew scouted locations for dinner and lunch.

Matterhorn was selected for dinner. Earlier in the day it had been nearly empty, but not so when we arrived to a 40 minute wait for a table. We spent it strolling up Featherstone Place (frankly not so lovely) to eye off tomorrow's lunch location - good food demands serious research.

The food at Matterhorn was excellent. Bluff oysters, finally in the shell, didn't disappoint. A venison tartare of silky texture. Crisped beef cheek; a delicate courgette/broad bean salad; red deer dusted with cocoa and accompanied by beetroot & fig; cauliflower baked with taleggio......definitely Foodivore Approved.

ANZAC Day dawned and we strolled around the harbour, checked out Te Papa museum, and generally worked up our lunch appetite. The venue was Tasting Room where, despite being short-staffed (apparently some reprobate hadn't turned up for work), we had a most passable selection of jerk chicken sliders (not the fiery jerk we enjoyed in Jamaica, alas), sage/parmesan gnocchi and their signature beef Wellington.

Fishing on Marlborough Sound

With the rain finally cleared, we spent a day fishing on picturesque Marlborough Sound. Who knew that it was possible for a fish to be "too big to keep"? Tracey caught one. Sadly, not pictured....so you'll have to take our word for it. (Totally honest though - once the blue eye cod get to a certain age they become breeding stock & are therefore protected. Pays to survive to maturity, apparently.)

Marlborough Sound, Nelson, Smith Farm

Undeterred by what we now recognise as a bit of light drizzle (no more than 20mm of rain in any 6 hour period), we struck off towards Nelson to see what we could see.....and eat, of course.

We had both imagined Nelson as a large town, situated next to the water. In fact the main commercial district is some way from the sea, but quite pleasant with jewellery evidently quite the local craft. We dawdled and rubbernecked in a most agreeably slow, holiday fashion but couldn't quite find Lunch.

Remembering, and topping up on, advice we headed to the Boat Shed Cafe. It's perched directly above the water, with a pleasing view of the breakwater.

The menu suggested "trust the chef" so we did. The array of sharing plates included whitebait, some very-far-from-home proscuitto Parma with figs, mozarella, roquette (in truth, the proscuitto was the best this side of Italy: warm, mature, nearly melting in texture....), sea-run salmon (disloyal moment: NZ salmon is better than Tasmanian), John Dory.....it was a fine lunch.

Having learned that Richmond, just up the road, had been subject to major flooding from all this light rain, we decided to head straight back to Smith Farm rather than risk being washed away. Yes it cost us some more wine tasting opportunities, but to compensate we got the chance to walk up to (all right, near) the local waterfall and check out some great fungus. The walk starts by traipsing through the sheep paddock, with eager sheep hoping you have some food that isn't grass. Based on the size of these sheep and the pig we mentioned earlier, the grass around here is extremely fattening. We'll have to stick to cheese and wine ;-)

The walk then crosses a cow paddock. Thankfully we'd been warned that the cows will charge you to "say hello". It doesn't feel particularly friendly when you have a few 300-400kg cows runnning at you. A quick hand up in Crocodile Dundee style seemed to work...

Normally this is a gentle walk to the falls but given the amount of rain, we had to wade through the higher than usual stream half a dozen times with wet and muddy paths inbetween. Apparently these paths have glow worms at night. It was precarious enough in daylight so we'll have to trust them.

Marlborough: the sunniest region in New Zealand (?)

It may surprise some (it surprised us a little) that we managed our entire first week in the south island without visiting Marlborough, iconic home of the NZ wine industry. However, the scenic delights are many and varied...and we certainly taste tested a few of the regions wines along the way...for research purposes before we reached the region, of course.

We had in mind a couple of nights in Kaikora, hopefully taking in some whale and/or dolphin watching. Being the apparent crayfish capital of NZ, we anticipated a little lobster as well.

Kaikora is right on the ocean. Apparently. We couldn't actually see ocean through the "low cloud" when we arrived, so we figured that lunch at the Cray Pot would be a fine idea. Surprisingly, they had no crays. We busted the proverbial move and had some quite decent Thai instead (when we travel, we seem to develop cravings for spicy food swiftly and frequently).

The "cloud" hadn't lifted by the end of lunch, so we decided to make straight for the main Marlborough wine zones instead - not without first picking up a fresh crayfish for dinner.

We understood Blenheim to be pretty much the epicentre of Marlborough, and were increasingly excited as we neared it - accompanied by the local soundtrack, the din of rain splattering itself against Bertha. It alternated between raining and pouring all day. Blenheim is supposed to be the second sunniest city on the south island, we guess it is all relative. They say Hobart is the second driest capital in Australia, we get the odd bit of rain there too.

We settled into a camperan park for the rest of the afternoon, sharing it with many ducks... great weather for ducks. The rain continued on unlentingly through the night, while we consumed our crayfish with a local chardonnay (and being foodivores, promptly made some stock from the carapace for a future risotto).

Next morning: still wet. No problem. Perfectly fine conditions for a bit of wine tasting.

We started our tasting tour at Cloudy Bay, the home of some of our favourite NZ wines. It is also where we learnt a lot more about duck hunting season opening shortly. Apparently a popular local passtime enjoyed but many....not the ducks. The blanc de blancs fizz was very good, as was their flagship sauvignon blanc. The 2008 late harvest riesling was particulary fine, and we made sure we left with a couple of bottles to accompany cheese :)

Our next stop is 50 metre up the road, Moa Brewery. You reach this via a long driveway with sheep filled grape vines enroute.

Apparently they are frequently asked by visitors what grapes type they use in their beer...really. The brewery is the side project of the winemaker from Alan Scott Family, and decent beers indeed he makes. Andrew was amused to learn that the hops used in the IPA (cascade & nelson sauvin) are the same as used in his staple homebrew. Clearly fine taste.

It was, happily, time for lunch. We tracked back a couple of hundred metres to Alan Scott Family winery, which we had selected on the basis of (a) delicious gewurtztaminer of theirs we'd sampled and (b) an online menu promising an enticing lamb shank. The shank recipe had changed but that was no trouble, as we sampled their wild boar terrine with an embeddded chorizo, osso bucco and pulled pork tartine. A really pleasant outdoor ambience (heated, mercifully) and recommended. Their wines were also good, notably the sparkling rose (Joues des Rouges), and they've got a very cool giant chess set.

The tastings continued after lunch at Hans Herzog (fine pinot gris) and Georges Michel (good viognier & also a Marc de Marlborough). We figured the surname had been spelt incorrectly, so added the missing "A".

Having tasted as much as is reasonable, bearing in mind the NZ 0.08 blood alcohol limit, we headed off towards Picton for a couple of nights at Smith Farm. Camping grounds are rarely notable, but this one boasted one very very round pig indeed :)

Glaciers are smaller than they used to be

We were now next to the Southern Ocean, on the west coast of the south island. We steeled ourselves for testing conditions, and glaciers.

Back in 1992, Tracey had visited Switzerland and held good memories of a glacier she'd seen and walked within its ice caves with life size ice sculptures. When we tried to return in 2010, we found that it had melted. Something that can exist since the ice age, disappearing so quickly...So what would we find in NZ?

First up: Fox Glacier. As we drove and then walked towards it, signs showed where the glacier had previously extended to. The 1995 mark must have been at least a kilometre from the currrent limit.

The valley on the way up was what we've come to think of as classic west coast: a broad strew of grey boulders, and a most exquisite azure-coloured water. Perhaps this was a reflection of the perfect blue skies above :)

We then drove up the road a short way to Franz Josef, where we elected to spend the afternoon lounging around in the rather warm (not a word of exaggeration) tropical afternoon. We sated our spice craving with some decent Indian at Priya (the saag lamb was very good, as were the garlic naan and the Jaipur beer), but some wifi snafus prevented us calling Don for his birthday. In true tradition, we of course toasted him regardless.

The next morning we hit Franz Josef glacier itself. A pleasant 45 minute walk up a (surprise!) boulder-strewn valley got us to the head of the glacier. More impressive from the foot than Fox. It is difficult to describe the magnitude of the glacial valleys you are hiking through, the sheer volume of the glacier that had carved it out.

Lunch was a little further up the road, at Hokitika. The selection of eateries wasn't overwhelming, so we ended up at Stella's cafe. What a suprise that it possessed the only cheese room we've so far seen in NZ! Fish & chips seem to be a national staple, so we succumbed. They were pretty decent really, with the blue rock cod being sympathetically, lightly battered and pleasingly fresh.

We liberated some cheese - of course - before heading up to the mountains, and little-Andrewland (literally Andrew's shelter, creek and track) where we dined on aged gouda (in Hokitika, this rhymes with chowder), Neudorf aged ewes cheese and Distinction Blue from the Puhoi Valley. The NZ cheeses started to show their quality.

The soundtrack of NZ had become, as we descended from Arthur's pass, the sound of low and aggressive cloud pelting down on poor Bertha. We were optimistic that this would pass - after all, we'd just negotiated the west coast with little more moisture than some perspiration at Franz Josef in the benign autumnal heat and we were heading the the driest parts of the country.

Little Andrewland was a highlight of freedom camping: complete isolation down a fair bumpy dirt track, pleasant cows mooched past us, Andrew's Creek rushed along (swelling by the minute as the cloud became more and more aggressive and rain-like) and we savoured the absence of other campers.

Sandfly update: We were now into day five since the spawn from hell feasted on our unsuspecting selves. The itching bites appear to have taken up permanent residence, will they ever end. They have been around so long each have their own names and personalities, #%^ and &$@# have started a civil war to be the most agressive. Still wine taken orally appears the most effective treatment, particularly when taken liberally.

Tomorrow we head to the east coast, normally drier, warmer and sandfly free.

Wanaka, Puzzling World and great food (even Fat Duck)

Having finished our visit to the Sounds that are really Fjords, we again head inland and, we hope, away from the sandflies...also now known as the mini black spawns from hell.

We stop for lunch at The Fat Duck. Keen followers of Foodivore will recognise this as a Grail Destination, but wonder how it fits with a trip to New Zealand. It turns out that an enterprising cafe in Te Anau has named itself Fat Duck, and we lunched there. We doubt that Heston was in the kitchen, but both the steak and pork belly were decent nevertheless.

The score so far

The real Fat Duck 2, Foodivore 0


We arrive at Lake Wanaka with perfect blue skies and glistening waters. We stay in a beautiful lakeside park in Glendhu. The map informs us and other Lord of the Rings nerds that just across the glassy waters, in the mountains we can see beyond, was the filming location of "rugged country south of Rivendell".

Wanaka is also home to Puzzling World. We had low expectations but were pleasantly surprised. They have a 3D maze which just means the maze is over multiple levels with many bridges taking you in confusing directions. The aim is to reach the four towers in each corner, though just as difficult is finding the exit. We have to admit to eventually taking a "quick" exit route, but not until we'd fulfilled the objective of finding all four towers

Puzzling World also had "illusion" rooms. Once again expectations were low but exceeded. The hightlights were a room where everything including the floor is crooked, it leaves you feeling quite disoriented. Water appears to flow upwards and all perspective is skewed. The other is difficult to describe, pictured below. You walk around the room with an eye covered, it is a wall full of faces that appears to follow you around the room.

Having worked up an appetite at Puzzling World we track down lunch. We find a place upstairs, overlooking Lake Wanaka, named Alivate. We highly recommend it: the "surf and turf" was a perfectly rare steak with proscuito wrapped scallops and tempura prawns, with the prawns rather dramatically presented. The venison with dukkah was delicious, and matched with an exceptionally fine Otago pinot noir (Tarras "The Steppes" 2009, for the trainspotters).

Following lunch we hit the road and head to the the west coast, via a fruitless (pun intended) search for the Tarras had with lunch.

Beautiful sights along the way, on a perfect autumn afternoon.

We discover the so called "freedom" camping isn't that free. The sun was setting and every nice place we fnd along the way to stop informs us "no camping". We finally find somewhere we're allowed to stop with dramatic views over the coastline, there is probably a reason the spot hasn't snapped up already...we appeared to be outnumbered, Tracey and Andrew to 9,999,001 sandflies. Having fed a few more of the vampiritic hell spawn, we decide it's overpopulated and move further down the road. By this time it's getting dark and the windy roads around mountainous sea cliffs provide little opportunity to pullover. We settle for a boatramp next to a lake...and the road. After a bit of wine and a beautiful salmon omelette we cook for dinner, we decide it might be sensible to move out of the boat ramp for fear of an eager fisherman knocking at the door at 5am. We awake to the gentle sound of lake wildlife and road traffic, we have a bit to learn about freedom camping.

Doubtful Sound

One mini van, a ferry across a lake, another mini van through isolated forest and we finally reach our overnight boat on Doubtful Sound (also a fiord, not a sound). Our journey is shared by six fellow Australians, retirees from Adelaide and Sydney. We've come to the conclusion we holiday like old people as no matter where we go we bring down the average age... we're okay with that. Our boat captain and cheif are rugby/school friends, great guys who help make the journey special. When we booked the only room left of the 4 bedroom boat was the master suite, oh well, someone has to do it.

The boat was great, small enough to be intimate but enough space to get away. Though it had been raining since we arrived, so getting outside was limited. That didn't stop us fishing. You have to imagine pulling up in a fiord with high mountainous cliffs, waterfalls dotted throughout. The location was breathtaking. We caught many fish, all of them too small to keep. Thankfully, Paul, one of the other guests, seem to have the touch. We had our (Paul's) freshly caught fish for dinner. One sashimed with sesame oil and lemon juice, divine. The dinner on the boat was excellent and we certainly weren't left hungry. The boat was BYO, we figured 3 bottles of wine, some beer and a hipflask of whisky would be enough, we weren't left thirsty either.

We awoke to a beautiful sunrise and sunshine, finding a pod of dolphins swiming alongside the boat. We cruised through the breathtaking fiord arms drinking in the scenery...and coffee.
The multiple arms of the fiord provide a genuine sense of exploration. As you cruise pat their openings, dramatic vistas unfold.

We had never understood what the big issue was with sandflies...until now. The thirsty bloodsuckers appear to strategise as a military unit. One of the mini vampires will hover around your face distracting you while his kamikaze team will attack all exposed skin. We thought we were safe out fishing in the rain, we were wrong.

It was only waking the next morning, the itching lumps from hell took over. If you scratch, the itching spreads but you can't stop. No creams or drugs appear to ease the burning itch. After several days, desperation started to set in, willing to try anything. Research suggested toothpaste dabbed on the affending mini skin mountains, other than not working one jot, applying it to the bite directly under your eye is not good judgement (though as mentioned in defense, desperation had set in). The peppermint fumes from the toothpaste causing a stinging burn in your eye...at least it distracted from the bites for a while.

Next old wives tale, deodorant. Didn't help the bites but appeared no harm done...until showering later. Washing your face and getting deodorant in your eye which makes your eye feel drier that a desert, so much you can barely shut your eye. Another lesson learned.

No more old wives tales, we bought some medically proven cream. Must have been tested on a different strain of sandfly, still no relief. Wine helps a little, orally not on the bite. Though that was also listed as an old wives tale but we're not going to waste any good wine on that theory (okay we did...again in despiration, waste of good sauvignon blanc really).

It's now been months since life without itching existed, okay several days (four but certainly feels like months. We understand why they don't include sandfies in the travel brochures. Love it here regardless, thankfully they only exist in the far south and we're about to had northward.

But all carry-on about diabolical, mini-vampire blighters aside, Doubtful Sound trumped Milford for us. Fewer people, a considerably more extensive fiord system to explore, dinner (did we mention the crayfish that had been caught that morning?), good company, contrasts of pelting rain with gorgeous sunrise.......if we don't get another opportunity, these memories will sustain us. Totallly recommended, and make sure you cruise with Fiordland Cruises (or, as they say on the Real Journeys boat on Lake Manapouri, "the other company").


Oh, it's calledl Doubtful because Captain Cook was doubtful that he could navigate back out of the fiord if he went in.

How does Milford Sound to you?

The Homer tunnel took us under the mountain (no goblins or balrogs) and disgorged us at the head of a valley leading down to Milford Sound. The valley walls were an impressive sight, steep and dry.

Not being the type to shilly-shally, we made it to the wharf with two or three minutes to spare before an afternoon cruise on the sound (pedants would, at this point, observe that Milford is actually a fiord and not a sound at all). The boat cruise, though wet, was dramatic. Apparently this area attracts around 6-8 metres of rain per year, they're not kidding.

The campsite was set in a lovely forest grove. Having not learnt our lesson well from Queenstown, once again we parked under a tree, though in our defence...it was a forest grove, difficult not to park under a tree. This time wind was not our enemy but the rain downpour. The rain drops would gather on the leaves before becoming too heavy and blatting their significant load onto the roof of our camper. We are sleeping above the driving cabin so we don't have to remove the bedding each day. However it does mean the roof is about 20cm above you in a little cavity that accentuates the noise.

After less sleep than desirable we hit the road before the sun has risen. The rain has not stopped all night which has meant the steep dry walls we drove through yesterday are now a walls of waterfalls, truely breathtaking. We wish we had time to stop for the sun to rise fully and the rain to stop (we could be waiting for a while), so we could photograph and appreciate it for longer. However, we had to reach Te Anau to visit our next fiord.

All right, we have to admit that we rushed it a bit. In our defence, it was appallingly wet and we do intend to return.

Bertha and The Bunker, way to start bro

We started the way we start most of our international holidays, in Qantas Club de-stressing from the hideous early start to the day by partaking in a breakfast glass of bubbly...having already purchased a holiday whisky and fragrance. We arrive in Queenstown NZ to blazing sunshine and there we meet "Big Bertha", our affectionaly named campervan. A quick lesson in elimination of body waste, thankfully verbal, not in demonstration and we're off. Ten minutes up the road (we weren't off far), we arrive at our campsite in central Queenstown.

Not ones to rough it too often, we had to a 7 course degustation dinner with matching wines at "The Bunker". This was an intimate place (only 6 tables) with a decent log fire, very good service and a strong reputation. We weren't disappointed.

Particularly notable were the quail, the abalone agnolotti and the salmon (wow, perfect skin to complement the rare flesh). The Amisfield fume blanc was wonderful, the 2010 Valli "Gibbston Vineyard" pinot noir also an excellently complex Otago example.

An excellent dinner was not matched by quality sleep. Note to selves from first night in Bertha: in drenching rain & howling wind, ensure no tree branches touch the vehicle that can scrape all night & keep you from sleep. Hmm perhaps we should have counted sheep?

Underfuelled with limited sleep, we struck off for Milford Sound, having picked up a couple of pies from the famous(?) Ferg Bakery for a later lunch, venison and red wine and a prawn and chorizo. Supplies were collected at Te Anau (note - wine can be cheaper at the supermarket than at duty free, but note to self- choosing a wine because it has a rabbit on the label is not a good strategic choice), and Bertha bolted down the highway to deliver us in time for an afternoon cruise. There was time for a little sightseeing as well.