Pining for the Fjords

Throughout our time in New Zealand, we had repeatedly heard and read that the Fiordland (part of the enormous Te Wahipounamu UNESCO World Heritage Site) is the prettiest area of the country.  Given how stunning the rest of New Zealand is, we've been excited about getting to the Fiordland, but we still wanted to temper our expectations to avoid being let down.

After an eight hour drive (very long by New Zealand standards) from Fox Glacier, we arrived in Lake Manapouri.  It's not a fjord, but extremely scenic nonetheless.  In fact, as I posted on Twitter, I think it may be the most beautiful lake we've seen on this trip, and we've seen plenty of lakes.  It was also the site of the most basic accommodation we've had since leaving Peru.  It wasn't necessarily bad, but it was very, very cold.  Our cabin had a tiny space heater that barely managed to keep the temperature at a livable level.  However, we were sharing the cabin with two French women who complained about the noise it made, and when we returned after eating dinner, they had turned it off and gone to sleep.  Being the considerate people we are, Magge and I decided we wouldn't turn it back on and try to tough it out.  It was a bad decision.  Next time, we're waking the French people up.

A contemplative Magge on the shores of Lake Manapouri

Our ice box accommodation

 Add fungi to Magge's list of favorite photography subjects

The following day, we made our way to Milford Sound on a drive that may have eclipsed Vancouver to Whistler as my favorite.  I'm going to post those pictures in a separate post also displaying other roadside pictures.  The second we pulled into the small town on Milford Sound, we saw why everyone is in love with this place.  We spent an hour walking along the shore taking pictures.  It was initially cloudy, but if anything, that only enhanced the scenery.  By sundown, though, the clouds had lifted.

As great as the views are from land, they're even better from the water.  We tried to get on a kayak trip that took us all the way out to the Tasman Sea but it was full.  Instead, we did a shorter, cheaper kayak tour in the morning and a cruise in the afternoon.  It ended up being the cheaper option and allowed us to see more anyway.  Our kayak guide wasn't great (an example of an exchange: the guide said, "where are you going?  I said go towards the rocks that look like boobs," to which Magge and I replied, "we see boobs everywhere, which ones are you talking about?") but we still had an excellent time.  We've been sea kayaking a few times, but these were the roughest conditions we have faced.  The skies were clear, but the wind whipped around and was in our face for most of our four hours on the water, and the water was very rough in places, especially when we had to cross to the other shore.  We didn't have any problems sleeping that night.

The start of our kayak tour

Magge in her standard position of admiring the scenery and letting me do the paddling.  Just kidding, she definitely pulled her weight.  I probably just earned myself a shoulder punch.

As silly as these tights look, I want my own pair

New Zealand fur seal, which were almost hunted to extinction

See, Magge actually did work hard

Our cruise took us out much further, all the way out to the Tasman Sea and close to waterfalls we didn't get to see on our kayaks.

One of many rainbows we saw in the waterfalls.

Looking back at the entrance to Milford Sound from the Tasman Sea (the two mountain ridges overlap, making the waterway very difficult to see).  James Cook passed here twice without properly charting the inlet, instead thinking the mouth was just a bay, which you can tell by this picture is an easy mistake.  It wasn't discovered and explored by a European until fifty years later.

Another waterfall, another rainbow

 When you're in Milford Sound, people will constantly remind you that it isn't a sound but a fjord.  What's the difference?  A sound is a flooded river valley and are V-shaped, while a fjord is a flooded glacier-carved valley and are U-shaped (i.e., much steeper sides).  All the inlets along New Zealand's southwest coast were named by the English and Welsh, who weren't familiar with fjords and therefore called them sounds.  Once the mistake was realized, it was too late, and Milford Sound, Doubtful Sound, Dusky Sound, and all the others are stuck with the wrong name.  You can thank me later for this information when you get this question right while watching Jeopardy.

The only problem is that the region is the home to sandflies. These biting flies are much worse than mosquitos in that their bites sting more, and they swarm in far greater numbers. If you've ever been to eastern Canada in June, these buggers are just like blackflies. They're poor fliers and can't keep up with you while you're walking, but the second you stop, four flies have landed on your. The next second, there are another four. You don't want to stand around one more second. I've heard two Maori legends describing the creation of sandflies. The first is that after the creation of the Fiordland, the area was so beautiful that humans ceased to be productive and just admired the landscape. The goddess Hinenuitepo became angry and created the sandfly to keep people moving. The other legend is that Hinenuitepo thought the area was too beautiful for mere mortals and created sandflies to keep them away. Either way, Hinenuitepo sucks.