The second half of our two week break was to be spent in the South Island of New Zealand. We landed in Dunedin, a major city on the east coast, to much colder weather than we had left behind in Brisbane. My Aunt picked Meg and I up at the airport after about a two hour wait in customs. We had arranged to meet our friends Jenna and Michelle at my Aunt and Uncles house so it wasn’t long before the four of us were catching up on each other’s holidays over a few glasses of wine. My Aunt, Katrina, cooked an amazing dinner of vegetarian lasagne and chocolate puddings which were greatly appreciated after ten days of cheap food, much of it peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. We briefly discussed going out but since it was Easter weekend and we were all completely exhausted, we opted to fall asleep in front of the TV with the cats.

The next morning we got up really early and drove down to Boulder beach. We staked out a spot in the grassy dunes and watched for the yellow-eyed penguins to make their morning trek from the dunes to the ocean. We ended up seeing about eight or nine in total and they were adorable. We were also lucky enough to see a huge sea lion lounging around on the beach.

 

Me, my Aunt, Cousin and Uncle on the beach ^

After most of the penguins had gone, we drove back along the harbour and tucked into a hearty breakfast of pancakes, raspberries, bacon and sausages. We said goodbye and thanks to my Aunt and Uncle and headed into Dunedin to explore a little. We found Baldwin Street, the steepest street in the world and, of course, climbed to the top.

 

Around noon we decided it was time to get on the road to Queenstown, which was about a five hour drive inland, however the weather was great and we stopped many times for pictures, fruit stalls, attempted winery tours, etc. Once in Queenstown and booked into our hostel, another Nomads which was right on the shores of Lake Wakitipu, we made a beeline for the Thai restaurant opposite. Later that night, one of the guys who worked at the hostel was handing out free drink vouchers for The World Bar, which also seemed to be known as the “dirty backpacker bar” so we thought we’d give it a go. We ended up having a great night and one guy insisted on calling me “Taylor Swift” the whole time since I was wearing my hair curly!

Queenstown is the adventure capital of New Zealand. It’s situated right between the mountain rages with four ski resorts within an hour.

 

Shot of Lake Wakitipu with the mountains ^

In keeping with the adventurous spirit, we obviously had to do another bungy jump. With a choice of three in Queenstown, we decided to go big or go home and went with the Nevis, a 143 metre drop from a little cable car strung by wines over a canyon. This one was more than twice the size of the one we had had done in Taupo. Even getting to the Nevis was extreme. They took us on a bus up winding, narrow roads for twenty minutes of so, everyone getting more and more nervous the higher we got. We finally were shuttled over (in an open hanging basket type device) to the cable car and fitted up with our gear. Jenna went first and, like a champ, didn’t hesitate at all.

 

Jenna jumping! NUTS! ^

The weird thing about this bungy was that it was just too high to pull you into a boat on the river when you were done, like they did in Taupo. They told you that you had to pull a red fabric lever attached to your feet on your second or third bounce so that your feet would be released and they’d be able to pull you back up in a sitting position. Really scary to do in practice since pulling at your gear while dangling headfirst over a really really high ravine doesn’t seem like the best idea. All in all, while the Nevis was awesome, I liked Taupo better because the Nevis was just TOO high. You fell for so long that it wasn’t the same rush as on a smaller bungy.

The remainder of the day was spent eating delicious burgers in the sun on the lake front and walking around the cute, albeit touristy, town. It was really nice to lounge around the hostel, reading and sleeping, after the rush of Australia. We had dinner at a little cosy restaurant called The Cow which was Italian fare but had a picture of Queen Victoria on the menu. I wasn’t sure if they were trying to say that Italians eat a lot of beef or that Queen Victoria was a cow.

That night was not one of the best. I got flu later in the evening and being sick in a twelve person room in a hostel is not very nice. We were also booked in to sky dive early the next morning and that was the only time we could do it, not to mention that I would lose my money (lots of money)if I didn’t go. I didn’t sleep at all, and just prayed that I’d feel better by the morning. The sky diving orientation was rough, as was the drive out to the airstrip. However, once they had me all suited up in my dive gear I felt fine, so I just figured that the cure for flu is sky diving.

The dive was unreal. They crammed everyone and their tandem partners into a tiny airplane with mats on the floor instead of seats. You sat with your legs around the person in front of you and the pilot to your back. As Meg and I had chosen the 12,000ft dive and the other people, a 9,000ft, we were the first into the plane and the last out. The plane ride was about fifteen minutes and it was so cool to see the mountains from the air, that I forgot that we were actually expected to jump out. At 9,000ft, the first tandem instructor leaned over and rolled up the door. Your immediate instinct should be to panic since you really don’t want the side of the plane open at 9,000ft, however it was so surreal, it still didn’t really register. The wind was incredible; you could just hear it howling past the opening as the first team made the move to shuffle to the edge. One by one, the teams were sucked out of the opening, literally sucked, until it was only Meg and I left.  5,000 more feet and it was my turn. My photographer went first and climbed out onto the side of the plane and told me to look up for a picture as I sat with my legs dangling out, clutching my harness that was attached to my instructor. It was less of a jump and more of a “rock until you get sucked out” movement and the next thing I knew,  I was tumbling though the air. My instructor pulled a small guiding chute just to keep us level and within seconds we had reached terminal velocity. All you can do is look around you as you’re falling over the amazing snow-capped mountains. Not until we pulled our chute and I saw my photographer fall away beneath us did I realise how fast we’d actually been falling, roughly 122mph all the signs seemed to say! The next part of the fall was to sit back and enjoy the scenery while doing some, at times, almost horizontal spins.

Slightly terrified ^

 

 If you only ever do one crazy thing, skydiving should be it, it was an absolutely amazing experience.

More to come on the rest of the South Island!

Karen xx

 

 

Location: Dunedin and Queenstown