Weeks Twenty-eight, Twenty-nine and Thirty: Ode to a Fergburger.

This summer has been fast-paced and packed to the gills with as much travelling as I've been able to muster, given budget and Time Turner-deprived restraints. In the space of less than two months, I experienced the cosmopolitan buzz of Melbourne, the tourist trail in Sydney, surfer life in Byron Bay, dingo-spotting on the world's largest sandpit, Finding Nemo, The Best Beach in the World, hanging out with turtles on the Great Barrier Reef, and found my inner Mysterious Girl in the Daintree Rainforest. As if that wasn't enough, as if that isn't far more than any pommy student could see during their studies, I decided to hop across The Ditch and experience life in the world of Fush and Chups, Frodo, and the legendary FERGBURGER.

So it came to be, that on the 19th January, I hopped on a train with Kirst and Liz, and began the long, loooong journey down to Sydney. The trip got off to a very promising start with free doughnuts from Krispy Kremes and, fired up on sucrose, we set off for Kiwiland. The flight was very quick, and once we arrived in Auckland we had to face the delightful prospect of sleeping in the Airport... Being cheap students, we had decided it was pointless to pay for a hostel for just a few hours sleep in the wee hours of the morning. Our genius solution saw us zonked out on the food-court seats, tormented by hour-long infomercials for the Ab-Circle Pro, and eventually relocating to a cosy corner of the Observation Deck for a very uncomfortable night's sleep.

Once the sun rose, we headed into Auckland. The city itself is very clean and friendly... but that's about the most glowing review I can give it. There is very little to do within the city centre, other than explore the countless cafes and coffee shops. We wandered around the city for a while, before succumbing to our exhaustion and napping in Starbucks. Oops. In the evening we spotted a Happy Hour sign, and therefore ended up in a bar at 3pm sipping on Gin and Tonics, before heading to the Ice Bar! Needless to say, our mid-afternoon Starbucks nap did not suffice, and we ended up in bed by 8pm. Hardcore.

Ice Bar!

The next day called for an early start for our Nakedbus to Paihia, in the Bay of Islands. The town itself is tiny and quaint, and our hostel was pretty impressive, with a lovely swimming pool. In the afternoon, we hired bikes for a lovely ride through the countryside and past some waterfalls. The hills were arduous in the heat, but it was a lot of fun. Post bike-ride, we went for a swim and chilled by the pool, before going out for dinner and ice cream!

Bike ride with a view :)

The next morning, we got the Ferry over the bay to Russell. It's a beautiful little town, very colonial and almost Disney-fied in its details. We had a picnic before trekking over the hill to a cute little bay. Despite our naive belief that New Zealand was sufficiently cold to negate a need for suncream, we all managed to achieve a quite impressive shade of sunburn in our time on the beach. Oops.

The next day was time for another bus, this time to Rotorua. It's one of the most geologically active areas in New Zealand, leading to lots of geothermal activity, mudbaths and the like... and a delightful lingering odour of rotten eggs. Welcome to Rotorua.

In the evening we nipped out to find a supermarket, expecting a Countdown or something similar. But no. What we found exceeded our wildest expectations of culinary retail... PAK'N'SAVE: a shop so wondrous that correct spelling could not do it justice. Inside, it resembled the warehouse area of IKEA, but stacked to the gills with budget food - and an ENTIRE AISLE dedicated to Pick'n'Mix. Woah. Pick'n'Mix sweets, yes, but also nuts, fruit, cereal, pretzels, EVERYTHING. The night ended with a spectacular sugar binge in front of The Time Travellers Wife, with our new found friend Kent, from Kent.

The next morning we caught a bus to Hells Gate, an area of Geothermal activity. Translation: eggy stench and lots of mud. It was actually really interesting - we saw all of the hot pools, sulphur crystal fields, hot waterfalls and mud volcanoes. We gave ourselves free facials with the mud, and ended up in the mudbaths and sulphur baths, which stank but were pretty relaxing.

The hottest mud pools.

Back at the hostel, we made the COLOSSAL mistake of washing our mud bath bikinis with the rest of our clothes, thereby instilling the hearty eggy stench into every item of clothing we had with us. For the next two weeks. Awesome.

In the evening, we headed out to a Maori show, where we saw Hakas and devoured the most incredible Hangi (BBQ cooked in the ground). Despite our gluttony-derived paralysis in the aftermath, we managed to waddle into the rainforest on a glow-worm spotting tour. It was a surreal sight, finding little pockets of bright green speckles in the midst of thick, black rainforest.

The next day consisted of a long (long, looong) bus down to Wellington. The views were very impressive on the way down, particularly around Lake Taupo and Mount Tongariro. We only had the one evening in Wellington, which we filled with Happy Hour drinks at the General Practise (a pretty cool pub inside an old Doctors Surgery, complete with Scalpels and Syringes displayed behind the bar... ) and enormous pizzas at the Green Man - along with the best Cajun fries and aioli I have ever tasted.

Mount Tongariro National Park

Sunset drinks in Wellington

Wellington seemed like a really nice city, so it's a pity we had to leave at 6am the next morning to catch the Interislander ferry to Picton, on South Island. The journey was very scenic, passing through fjords in the northern reaches of South Island. The two-hour bus from Picton to Nelson was stunning, passing through endless Vineyards and beautiful mountains. Once we got to Nelson, we began the fairly long trek to our hostel - which was amazing. New Zealand hostels are so much better value for money than their Aussie counterparts! For what would be, by Aussie standards, an absolute steal; the Paradiso hostel in Nelson had a swimming pool, hot tub, sauna, volleyball courts, free breakfast AND dinner, and amazing atmosphere. It was so good! We made the most of the beautiful sunshine in the afternoon, and lazed by the pool, before joining in with the (International) Australia Day celebrations in traditionally drunken Aussie style!

Welstralian!

Austrapoms and Swedestralian!

The next morning, we dragged our pounding heads into town to take care of money issues and indulge in a bit of hangover-abating retail therapy. And cake therapy, in my case. Unfortunately this meant that we missed out on our chance to kayak in Abel Tasman National Park, but never mind - I have absolutely no doubt that I will be back!

Another painfully early start signalled the start of another looong journey, this time down to Glacier Country and the teeny township of Franz Josef. We left the beautiful sunshine in Nelson, to be replaced by thick mist and drizzle. Lovely. Unfortunately, Hostelbookers had messed up our booking so we had to search for a new one, where we set up camp with a hot mug of milo and umpteen layers to ward off the chill.

The next morning, we walked down the street to the centre for glacier climbs, as we were going trekking on Franz Josef Glacier. After being kitted out in fairly ridiculous numbers of layers, we headed to the glacier and began the long trek to the base. There, we cramponed up and headed out onto the ice. The glacier is quickly retreating, as evidenced by huge abysses which echo with the sound of falling ice blocks the size of small houses. We moved through the 'dirty' grey ice, toward the stunning blue ice further up, passing through yawning crevasses and along narrow ice bridges. It was exciting and a bit scary at times given my propensity to fall over on even a flat, stable surface - Glacier trekking is not an obvious pastime for me. The views were spectacular though, and it was unlike anything I'd ever done before - I'd definitely recommend it!

The glacier, as seen from the glacier valley.

A huge opening in the ice.

Crampon friiiiiiends!

One of the crevasses.

So mature!

Back on dry land, we avoided the constant re-runs of Lord of the Rings on the hostel TV by heading to the glacier hot pools. It was such a relaxing way to spend the evening - blissed out in 36/38/40 degree glacial pools, until we eventually resembled prunes in swimwear and decided to head back for dinner and a date with Josh Hartnett and Ben Affleck.

The bus to Queenstown the following day did not depart until later, so we killed the morning watching Shrek and indulging in what must go down in history as one of the greatest slabs of carrot cake ever served. Literally, ever.

I told you so.

The drive to Queenstown must be up there with the Great Ocean Road and the Pacific Highway, San Fran to LA, as one of the most gorgeous drives I have ever done. It was long, and winding, but the views were breathtaking - mountain after mountain and sapphire lake after sapphire lake. Unbelievable.

Queenstown itself was gorgeous - big enough to have some life to it, but small enough to still have the feel of a  little ski resort. We hiked up the massive hill to our lovely hostel and settled in, before getting dressed up and heading out on the town to sample Queenstown's legendary nightlife. We went to World Bar, where the cocktails are served in teapots... a good (but very bad) move. Several teapots, a boogie in Altitude bar, and a smattering of chips and aioli from Fergburger later, we stumbled back to the hostel. In the morning, feeling much worse for wear, we booked our trips for the following days before crawling out into town for an explore, and a second breakfast.

We got very excited when we found an international sweet shop selling imported and long-lost goodies from the UK, such as Galaxy chocolate, Haribo and Refreshers!

:)

In the afternoon, we caught the Skyline Gondola up the mountain, for panoramic views over Queenstown and  Lake Wakatipu. We went luging, which was a lot of fun! I managed to lose Liz and Kirst in the giftshop, and ended up making friends with an elderly Indian couple on the Gondola ride down, whilst they watched, bemused, from the cafe. Whoops!

The luge track.

Beautiful views over Queenstown.

The next morning, we caught the shuttle out to the Shotover River, from which we would depart on a jetboat ride. The ride was amazing, with the boats zooming along and missing huge rocks by just a few milimetres. We headed back to Queenstown mid-morning, but would be returning to the river later in the day... For lunch, we descended upon the fabled Fergburger. The drunken chips we had devoured were, indeed, good - but Fergburger is famous for its burgers, and we had to try them. True to legend, they were unbelievable. I had a (don't judge me) Tofu burger, with satay and coconut sauce and a fair bit of spice. It was INCREDIBLE. The girls made up for my vegetarianism with hefty slabs of animal in bread, all of which looked very impressive (and tasted it too, apparently).

HUGE.

Ferglove!

Post-Ferg comedown.

In the afternoon, we wandered the streets aimlessly, trying fruitlessly to shake off the post-Fergburger haze hanging over us. Eventually, we headed to the Canyonswing office, where I was to chance my life on an bungee cord...

We were driven out to the Shotover River once more. Kirsty and Liz were shown to the observation deck, whilst I was harnessed up and asked to choose a jumping style. I decided that as long as I was risking my life on the highest cliff jump in the world - well, I may as well look cool doing it. Therefore, on the 1st February 2012, I somersaulted off a platform, plunging down into a 60-metre freefall and across the river canyon in a 200m arc. It was amazing! Once I had been winched back up to safety, with legs which were struggling to support me, they offered us the chance to do it again for cheap... It was a no-brainer! So thirty-nine dollars later, I was suspended head first over the edge of the platform, and dropped back into freefall. Mental? Obviously. Incredible? No question.

Jump #1...

And again!

Jump #2...

Wheeee!

A boiling hot tub in the rain was the perfect way to end a ridiculously amazing, adrenaline-fuelled day in my new favourite place on earth.

The next morning was an incredible early start for our skydive. The sky was heavy with clouds, and it looked like the jump would be cancelled - until we saw the small area of perfectly clear sky, directly over the drop zone! In the Hangar, we were quickly suited up, with many more layers than last time, in boiling hot Byron Bay! The plane ride up over the Remarkables Mountain Range was so beautiful - as you rose above the clouds, you could see nothing but white, with the peaks soaring above the cloud. It was amazing. Soon, we reached 12,000ft, and the plane doors opened. Liz went first, then me, and Kirsty last. We had 45 seconds of exhilarating freefall, watching the mountains surge up beneath you, and pass you as you fall. Eventually the parachute opened and we glided down to the drop zone. It was amazing, made even better by Kirst and Liz's reactions to their first ever jump!

Running off nothing but veinfuls of adrenaline, we once again walked through the hallowed doors of Fergburger. Our burgers were again, amazing - although the falafel burger was not quite as heart-stoppingly perfect as the tofu burger. (Sorry, burger purists, I'm veggie. Sue me.) We slept off the burgers in the sun, before strolling through the gardens and heading to the Patagonian Chocolate Shop for beautiful homemade icecreams and gelato.

Queenstown and Lake Wakatipu.

And so, unfortunately, it was time to bid Queenstown adieu. It had been the pinnacle of our trip - an amazing place, with endless activities, for every season. I will definitely return one winter to see the town changed, hiking shops switched to ski rental, ice cream traded for hot chocolates, the eternal crowds of Fergburger-hungry hoardes swaddled up in hats and scarves.

We caught the bus the next morning to Christchurch, a long and scenic journey, albeit no match for the Franz Josef - Queenstown leg. In Christchurch, we found that the rumours were true: there was nothing there. I had thought that the city would be one of two extremes: destroyed, in which case surveying the damage would be an interesting, if sobering, experience; or still standing and living, in which case there would be much to do. Unfortunately, it was both. The destroyed centre was fenced off within the 'red zone', with no access and nothing to see. The outer areas were still, mostly, standing - but there was nothing to do. There were no people on the streets, no life to the city. We ended up going for a curry, before awaiting our airport shuttle in the casino - and winning $20 whilst we were at it. A pretty good note to end on!

We spent the last night as we had the first - attempting to sleep on the airport floor.It was an incredible trip, and I definitely fell in love with NZ. The kiwis were just so happy and friendly, it was hard not to love them! There was so much to see and do, I will definitely be back!