Tues 3rd March: Mt Doom and the Tongariro Crossing

I'm up at 6.30am. Its still dark. A bus leaves the hostel at 7.15 to bring hikers to the start of the trail so the Hostel is a hive of activity at this hour with people rushing around getting themselves ready. I make myself some breakfast and sandwiches for lunch in the hills. As I buttered the bread I looked out and couldn't believe the sight in forn of me. There was Mt Ngauruhoe (Mt Doom) in full view, clear of any clouds. The air was so clear the dark silhouette of the mountain looked razor sharp. The sun hadn't yet come up but it was getting bright and the light, wispy clouds above were beginning to turn pink as the sun approached. Dawn was beautiful. The sun rose to the right of Mt Doom leaving it in dark shadow. It stood out in sharp relief against a pink sky with the clouds turning blood red. It was one of the most spectacular sunrises I've seen. Unforgettable. The air was sharp, cold and clear. I couldn't wait to get onto the mountains.

Some 30 of us from the hostel were doing the hike today. We clambered on board the bus which took us over to the start of the trail and, by 7.50am, we were following a path into the hills. There were many other buses in the car park. A lot of people milled about at the start There were a couple of school groups amongst the trekkers of all ages. There would be a big crowd on the trek today. I decided to get moving. Off to the right lay Mt Ruapehoe, an active volcanoe on which a winter ski resort operates. The volcanoe erupted spectacularly in the mid-90's.

We started off crossing a stretch of moorland. The sun was still low in the sky so the mountains loomed over us in dark shadow. We followed a narrow valley to a ridge at the base of Mt Ngauruhoe. It was all quite easy. Instead of scrambling up a scree strewn slope there were steps and pathways which facilitated the climb. That doesn't mean to say I wasn't puffing by the time I got to the top of the ridge but compared to Villarica in Chile it was a cakewalk. I took a breather at the base of Mt Doom. The landscape up here looked like something off the moon or Mars. It was bleak. There was no vegatation. A flat basin led from the base of Mt Doom to a second steep ridge which rose up the side of Tongariro. I was pushing hard as I intended taking a side route to climb Mt Tongariro and we had been told if we intended doing this not to delay in order to be down in time to meet the bus on the far side at 4pm. Quite a few climbed Tongariro. a small group set about the more difficult slope of Mt Ngauruhoe itself. I preferred the doing Tongariro as the shots from there are more spectacular. Those of us climbing Tongariro were all pushing that little bit extra and quite a few of us were blowing hard when we reached its summit.

The views from here were stunning. Mt Ngauruhoe (Mt Doom) stood high above us and in the background lay the snow-flecked slopes Mt Ruapehoe. A few of us sat in silence munching on our sandwiches and drinking in the views. It was one of those places you didn't really want to leave. Regaining the main route we passed along the rim of the 'red crater', the principal vent of Tongariro. All the volcanoes are active here but it was this crater which showed the most obvious signs. Sulphurous steam vented out from the crater and from its sides as we slipped and slid down its slopes. Two small brilliantly green lakes lay at the base of this slope. Accompanying them were strong wafts of Suphur. I didn't delay too long, not wanting to remain in rotten egg/fart infested territory any longer than necessary. A short walk across a level plain and a brif climb brought us to the shores of a larger lake. I took a breather here in clear cooler air. After this it was basically downhill all the way to meet the bus down in the lowlands. We left the spectacular views of the volcanoes behind and took on the more conventional mountain sights. While it was beautiful. After what we had just passed through it seemed almost bland.

Some 6kms from the finish there was an overnight hut perched on the side of the mountain we were descending. I took a breather here. I had plenty of time to kill as the warnings we had recieved about not having much time proved a little over the top. Having pushed hard earlier on though I was beginning to feel it now so a breather and a top up of the water bottle was welcome at this hut. I bumped into an Austrian girl here called Katherine. Our paths had crossed a few times since Mt Cook on buses nad in the same hostels but while we had said hello we'd never actually spoken. She sat down for a breather and we chatted finding out where each others travels had led. As soon as we started talking we didn't stop and chatted the whole way down the mountain. The last 6kms flew and instead of struggling down to the bus I barely noticed the time passing. It was a pity we hadn't started talking sooner. Down at the bus Katherine met her bus and went off to Lake Taupo where she was staying for a few days. She's keeping a blog as well (http://travelkat09.blogspot.com) so I'll have a wee look to see how her travels progress.

Waiting for the bus, everybody sat or lay in the sun. By now there were a lot of tired bodies, mine included. The weather had been perfect, as good as I had hoped for. The crossing was probably one of the most spectacular hikes I've done. It certainly redeemed New Zealand for me. Back at the hostel I ate well this evening, everybody did.

Mon 2nd March: Mt Taranaki and Back to National Park

I woke up at 7am to see if I could get some dawn shots of Taranaki but the place was covered by a heavy fog. This appeared to end any hope I had of seeing the volcanoe. I wasn't hanging about in Stratford. I was getting an early bus to National Park in the hope of decent weather and doing the Tongariro crossing at the second attempt.

I got the bus at 8.50am. Five miles out of town the fog cleared. I looked back and there was Taranaki standing clear under blue skies. As it was so unexpected the sight of this huge volcanoe almost took my breath away. It was beautiful, a classic volcanic cone standing high above the surrounding plain. For the next 10 mins while it remained in sight I tried to get as many photos as I could in the hope that one or two would be decent. I cursed the driver who was rattling along at 40-50mph bumping me about as I tried to keep the camera steady.

We had to change buses at Whanganui and this meant a stopover for 90 mins. The staff at the bus station allowed me to drop my rucksack in an office so I could have a look around town. It was a lovely town. A very picturesque little place on this sunny morning. A lot of the buildings and shopfronts dated from early in the last century and have been mantained in good condition which gave the town centre a lot of character. The break went by very fast and, sooner than I would have liked, I had to leave Whanganui.

I'm looking forward to doing the Tongariro crossing tomorow. Its one of the top one-day hikes to do in New Zealand. You cover some 20km following which climb up and take you through some spectacular volcanic mountains. The sights are supposed to be dramatic. For the last week I've been checking thweather forecasts and tomorrow the weather is supposed to be fine. When we arrived over in National Park the weather was a lot better than the last time I had been there but cloud still covered the tops of the mountains. The latest forecast suggests tomorrow will be fine, as has been predicted. People in the hostel who did the trek this morning said it was great and while I'm hopeful of fine weather tomorrow I'm not expecting it. By the time the sun goes down this evening there are heavy clouds on the mountains. The signs aren't good.

Sun 1st March: To Stratford

I decided to take a chance on going up to Stratford today to see Mt Taranaki. The town of Stratford is also curious. Its the closest town to Taranaki and is named after Shakespeare's home town. Many of the streets are named after characters from his plays. I end up staying in Romeo st!! Apt or what??? It sounds like a quirky little place but its Taranaki I really want to see.

Leaving Wellington on yet another dull damp morning it brightens up as we head north but the day remains showery. We leave Wellington at 10am. Its a 6hr journey to Stratford with a 40min break at Palmerton North.

Approaching Stratford the lower slopes of Taranaki were visible but the upper half of the mountain was covered by heavy rain clouds. Showere could be seen sweeping across the lower slopes. In Statford, however, the afternoon had brought bright sunshine. Once I found the Hostel it didn't take too long to look around town which consisted of one main street. It was like many of the small towns I'd seen through the American mid-West. The kind of place you barely noticed if you passed through on a car or, on a bike, you might stop to buy a drink and keep moving. In the centre of town there was a tall clock tower. It was supposed to look like a Tudor building of the 16th century but it didn't succeed. At certain times of the day small figurines emerge from the tower to recite passages from Romeo and Juliet. I passed by at 7pm on my way to the supermarket as the little 'performance' took place and I joined 5-6 other blow-ins to stand and watch. That was about as exciting as it got in Stratford. There was one Irish bar on the main street but when I looked in it was empty. As the evening darkened and Taranaki remained shrouded and out of sight I wondered if I'd wasted a day making this journey.

Sat 28th Feb: Wellington

I had hoped to go to Stratford today over in the southwest of the island. I want to see Mt Taranaki one of the north Islands big volcanoes but the weather was terrible. Torrential rain oured down for most of the day under thick dark clouds. There was no point in leaving Wellington, I eouldn't have seen anything so I decide to stay on and have a look around town. I had to change hostel as the one I was in was booked out for tonight. Thankfully I didn't have any bother locating a vacant bed in one nearby.

I was surprised to hear Wellington is the capital of NZ. For some reason I thought Auckland was. Its of a similar size to Christchurch, though slightly smaller, with a population of around 330,000. The centre of town skirts around a sheltered bay overlooked by low hills. Its a pleasnt enmough but it can't compare with Christchurch which has to be one of the prettiest towns I've seen on these travels. There's a lot more life here, though, than in either Christchurch or Auckland. It a vibrant place, there seems to be a lot more of a buzz around the town. At least thats the impression I've taken from the two short stopovers here.

I get soaked wandering around town so I drop into the national museum, more as a means of staying dry than anything else. The museum itself turns out to be a cracker. I haven't seen a museum like it. Very impressive. Back in the hostel we were given vouchers for a free meal in the bar next door. You had the option of 'supersizing' for $4 so I took this and was looking forward to a large chicken curry and rice. When the food came out my jaw dropped at the size of the portion. It was tiny!! I wasn't the only person to ask "Is that it??" It was laughable, consisting of rice with a dribble of chicken and curry sauce. Even at $4 it was a rip-off. I had to go out elsewhere to get a decent meal just to take the hunger off me.

Fri 27th Feb: Wellington-Black Caps V Rockstars

Today I head for the North Island and Wellington. I get a 7am bus for Picton and the ferry. Its a dull, wet morning. We head north for pretty Kaikora on the coast. By now, thankfully the weather has cleared and we pass through the vineyards of Blenheim in decent weather. We get to Picton around 12.20pm in plenty of time for the ferry an hour later. I dozed most of the way to the north island. I felt wrecked so I didn't bother heading out on deck until the ferry docked in Wellington.

There's a cricket match this evening in town at the impressive looking West Pac stadium. Its a twenty20 match, the 2nd in a two game series which acts as the warm-up for the test series between the Kiwis and the'Rockstars' of India. I'm hoping to get a ticket for the match as it will be my first live cricket match so I'm looking forward to seeing the game. At the hostel I dropped my stuff in the dorm and head straight out towards the stadium after a quick bite to eat. It was a 30 min walk to the West Pac from the centre of town and the crowd gradually got larger as we got closer to the ground. A few thousand milled around outside. In the crowds I got that buzz I always get heading to a big match, a surge of adrenalin. It felt a bit weird though as tonight it was cricket and not football. As I queued up for my ticket the game had already started and cheering from the crowds within suggested the action was already hotting up.

Inside, the stadium was about half full but it was enclosed so all the sound was magnified. The atmosphere was good. There was a large crowd of Indian ex-pats and they were making themselves heard, determined to have a good time. Whole families, it seemed had turned out with mothers and fathers carrying infants and young kids through the crowds. The Indians were batting first and great roars erupted any time a 4 or 6 was scored. It was great to watch the Indian fans as their songs and chants were so different to what you'd get at football. Also to see them dance was a novelty. Arms raised up they moved their shoulders to the rhythm, dancing in the stands in a way I've never seen before so I spent half the time watching the crowd. Music blared between overs and it was great when the Indian music came on as the fans all got into the groove. A lot of the Kiwis stayed quiet for now, sipping beers. Their time would come later when they went in to bat.

I had watched the first game of this twenty20 series in Mount Cook on Wed night. The 'Black caps" had won that match quite easily. At one point it had looked as though the Indians were going to be bowled out before the end of the twenty overs which, apparently, is unheard of in Twenty20. The Indians did hang on with a great effort by Harbajan Singh to increase the Indian run totalbut the Kiwi batsmen had little difficulty in reaching their target. Tonight the Indian batsmen were more dogged but their run rate was still fairly low. They hit a total of 149 for the 20 overs. Perhaps it was the surface.

At one point during the Indian inning tensions rose in our section of the ground. A drunken Indian lad down in the front rows started taking abuse from various Kiwis. He hadn't been doing much, just standing up dancing and waving his arms any time the music came on. It was harmless. Himself and a friend were sitting in an area of empty seats but he was drawing attention to himself with his antics, oblivious to others around him. Even when an Indian batsman was bowled out he'd be up dancing. It was comical, I don't think he really knew what he was doing himself. But suddenly he started getting abuse from a group behind him. He heard it, didn't like it. He responded and then other Kiwis got involved. I was sitting 15 rows back and people around me were shouting abuse. Security were attracted to the incident and then notices appeared on the scoreboards warning people would be ejected for racist behaviour. Things calmed down again. After this, however, I wanted the Indians to win.

The Kiwi batsmen started their inning blazing the ball all over the place and it looked as if the game would be over very early. But then the Indian bowlers got down to work and the Kiwi run rate began to slip. Harbajan and Dhoni were class. Everything tightened up. The Kiwi batsmane were forced to rely on singles and doubles and the odd four. As the overs progressed the Kiwi runs slipped below the required run rate, but not by much and there was always the possibility of a few four or sixes which would put them back on top.

Into the last 5 overs and it became clear this was going to be a close finish. The Indian bowlers were keeping it tight. As each delivery failed to produce big hits for m the Kiwi batsmen the crowd began to get nervous. Then with 3 overs to go two Kiwi batsmen were bowled in quick succession. You sensed that the Indians might be going to hang on and win. At the start of the last over the Kiwis required 12 to win. They got a six with the first ball but only got 1 run in the next three deliveries. With the second last ball the Kiwis got 4 tieing the game. One run with the last delivery and the Kiwis would win.

We waited for the last delivery. A delay ensued. Indian fielders approched the umpire. The crowd began to boo. It became apparent that one of the indian fielders had been struck by an object thrown from the crowd. Calm was restored. The Indian bowler made his run and the ball was delivered at pace. A lot of the fast deliveries whizzed in at 140kmh. The batsman met it but the strike wasn't clean. The ball went into a high, looping trajectory. Two Indian fielders raced under the ball. If it was caught the game would go to extra time. If not the Kiwis would win. By now the crowd around me were all on their feet. A massive roar went up when the ball was struck but then the crowd hushed, holding their breath as they watched the ball loop high into the night sky and began to fall short. Everything suddenly seemed to go in slow motion. One of the Indian fielders made a desperate full-length dive to catch the dropping ball. It grazed his fingertips and slipped to the ground. The Kiwis had their run. They got the victory and cheers erupted again as the crowd celebrated. It was a great finish to the game, very dramatic.

Thurs 26th Feb: Mount Cook to Christchurch

I had hoped to get up early to do a hike at dawn and get some shots of Mt Cook in the early morning sun. I got up at 6.30am and looked out. Heavy cloud and mist hung low in the valley. There was no chance of a shiot in these conditions so I went back to bed for another couple of hours. By 9am it was a lot better. I had a quick breakfast and dropped my rucksack into the luggage room as I would be checking out today to head back to Christchurch. I followed a trail on the opposite side of the valley I had hiked yesterday. This trail led to a viewing point which looked up onto Mt Cook. The summit was still shrouded by cloud but while I was at the viewing point it lifted and I was able to get a decent shot of the full extent of the mountain. It didn't last long though. More clouds soon rolled in and by midday the mountain was totally obscured by a bank of clouds. There were a good few hikers out on the trails again this morning. One thing that is very noticeable on the hikes in this country. The people are friendly. All the Kiwis say hello and are courteous on the trails. I used to get wound up in South America by hikers, all young Europeans, who brushed you aside and refused to acknowledge you. There are the odd instances of this here but, guess what?, they're young European backpackers. I really am starting to despise the ignorance of some of these travellers. By the way nobody under 25 knows how to close a door out here. It must be a generational thing.

Mt Cook is New Zealand's highest peak, standing at 2,719m. Named after Captain Cook it was spotted by one of his crew form his ship as he sailed around the south island. The original, Maori name is Aoraki, or, 'Cloud Piercer', as the summit normally stands clear above the cloudline. Edmund Hillary climbed Mt Cook and the peaks of the southern Alps before his successful ascent of Everest. A memorial to those who have died in these mountains sits in the middle of the valley and lists a surprisingly high number of names.

I was back, showered and fed in time for the 2.30pm bus back to Christchurch. The bus retraced the route of the previous two days. We listened to the same stories from a different driver, in reverse order. Most of the passengers on the bus today were Japanese and an interpreter relayed the stories through headsets which were provided for the non-English speakers. We get back to Christchurch around 7.30pm. With an early start tomorrow for the bus up to Picton I don't do much. After yesterdays culinary feats I decide to eat out for once and went for an Indian. A chicken Pasanda with naan bread and washed down with Bundaberg ginger beer, my new favourite drink of New Zealand. Awesome, no worries mate!!

Wed 25th Feb: Mount Cook

I spent this morning sorting out buses, accomodation etc for the next few days. You have to be a lot more organised here in New Zealand than in SSouth America. You have to book your hostel in advance or chances are you may not get accomodation. It means most of my time on the internet is noe spent checking bus timetables or accomodation listings. Which means ultimately that the blog is suffering as I fall way behind with the updates. This morning I have also changed my flight to Bali. I put it back by 3 days to give me a little extra time here.

With all the organising the morning flew. Very soon it was time to catch the bus to Mount Cook.

We're heading into the heart of the Southern Alps to see New Zealand's highest mountain Aoraki/ Mt Cook. The weather was beautiful this morning so it was fingers crossed in the hope that it would remain fine up in the mountains. It was a relatively shot hop of 90 mins across moorlands and the shores of lake Pukaki whose waters were even more brilliantly blue than Tekapo's. Creeping around the shores of Pukaki the summit of Mt Cook stood high above the cloud line off in the distance in the heart of the mountains. Following the western shore of lake Pukaki northwards Mt Cook loomed in and out of view. Some of the passengers had booked scenic flights over the mountains by helicopter and plane . These were dropped off at their relevant stops.

By 1.30pm the bus pulled into the hostel at Mt Cook and a gaggle of backpackers jumped off here. Like yesterday I didn't hang about. I ate, got changed and followed a hiking trail which brought me up one of the mountain valleys towards Mt Cook. The route was evidently a popular one judging by the umber of people on the trail. The mountains lining the valley went up over 2,000m and held glaciers high up on their sides. As the afternoon progressed cloud descended and you coud hear but not see the small avalanches that rumbled like distant thunder high above the snowline. At the head of the valley lay a glacial lake fed by a glacier that drops chunks of ice and meltwaters from its base. The glacier, covered by black debris winds it way down around the base of Mt Cook. Small icebergs float down the lake away from the fron of the glacier towards a fast moving stream which drains the lower end of the lake. Beyond the glacier the tall imposing form of Mt Cook rose up. By noe its summit was obscured by cloud. The cloud came in, wisping over the summits of lower mountains. Rising and falling in the air currents. 5 or 6 of us waited awhile hoping the clouds would lift and give us a clear view of the mountain. The clouds didn't lift, instead more rolled in over the tops of the surrounding mountains so I turned around and hiked back down the valley.

In the evening I cobbled together a meal of eggs, tuna beans and toast in the kitchen from a few bits and bobs I could get the tiny shop in the hostel. As I prepared the food a Japanese guy and I asked if I was from the U.K. I told him I where I was from. He said he thought I must have been from the U.K. judging by the food I was making. I laughed but then became quite conscious of what others were making for themselves. One girl was preparing an avocado salad and prwans and pasta in a wine sauce. A lad had grilled chicken in a sauce on a bed of saffron rice. I began to squirm as I chomped into another slice of half-burned toast.