Scenes from Abel Tasman National Park
It’s so easy your grandmother could do it, the guy at the Motueka Top 10 told me when I inquired about the most popular hike in Abel Tasman National Park. While a couple of lazy non-hikers like Sean and me managed the 5.4 mile hike from Bark Bay to Anchorage Bay without any troubles (save for a few grumbles along the lines of hills? no one told me there was going to hills!), I’m not sure I can picture my grandmother trucking along the trail (may she rest in peace). Perhaps his statement should have been qualified that it was so easy a New Zealand grandmother could do it, judging by the sweet 90-something couple we chatted with on a hiking trail in Arrowtown. But what do I know? We passed the 90 year olds in Arrowtown, but a 4-year-old girl kept smoking us on the trail at Abel Tasman.
Abel Tasman National Park, located on the South Island’s northeast coast, is New Zealand’s smallest national park but it is packed to the gills with beautiful unblemished coastline. There are no roads inside the park, so we took a water taxi along the coast to get to our hiking destination and were blessed with one of our few sunny days in New Zealand.
Happy Place, Thailand
Before we headed south all the way to the Thai islands, we stopped at a quiet little seaside town for a few days. The town is called Happy Place. No, that’s not it’s real name, it’s just what Daniel and Helena from the Backpack Foodie christened it after spending two peaceful weeks there in 2009. As he says on his blog, if you ask Daniel nicely, he might reveal the real name of Happy Place to you; he did for me. His descriptions of a small Thai town unblemished by tourism and blessed by fresh seafood reeled me in, and so we set off for a short detour to Happy Place.
Had I known then what I know now, I might have never left. In her broken but steadily growing vocabulary of English, Tchim, the owner of the Coco House, a small local cafe close to our hotel, told me, the islands – very crowded, very expensive. Here – not very crowded, not very expensive. Boy, was she ever right. Don’t get me wrong, we enjoyed the Thai islands – they’re tropical paradise, how could we not – but not as much as we anticipated. More on that to come, but let’s just say traveling in high season makes it hard for the paradise part to shine through.
In Happy Place, on the other hand, nothing gets in the way of its simple pleasures: watching the green lights of the fishing boats bob on the horizon every evening; watching the same boats return in the morning light; eating the fruits of the fisherman’s labors at restaurants on the promenade; hiking up to a great view and dodging thieving monkeys; trying to track down the roving VW bus turned cafe; and listening to the sea lap at the sandy shore.
Happy Place is the type of place that is more likely to be frequented by Thai tourists than farangs. We weren’t the only foreign tourists there, but it wasn’t hard to find yourself surrounded only by locals. We stumbled upon a local fair and besides us, there were only Thai faces around. Sean got a hankering for some bugs and downed some along with a Chang beer much to the amusement of some bystanders. He described them as “earthy” and said they didn’t taste too bad. Blech. I opted for strawberries and doughnuts instead. While we were at the fair, the Thais stared at us in polite curiosity, particularly Sean, as we took our turn playing the fair’s games; we politely stared back at them, trying to figure out why they were sitting in chairs connected by strings to monks up on the stage.
In his post about Happy Place, Daniel wrote that “[i]t’s, sadly, entirely possible that in a few years, we will barely recognize our favorite spot under the concrete of a beach resort” because “like many places before it in Thailand, the vanguard of foreign tourism has already begun its incursion.” Almost two years later, it seems time hasn’t marched quite yet. There’s no banana pancake cafes or booming bass and there’s only one 7-Eleven. Tchim is still there, selling coffee at Coco House and eager to chat about the two farangs that befriended her in her early weeks of operation. The Deemer family still cooks up delectable pad thai and som yam and their cat still scarfs down any of the delicious seafood that it can get its paws on. In other words, Happy Place is still happy.
Re-entry
After being out of the country for 13 months, our official re-entry into the United States was rather anti-climatic. I didn’t expect our homeland to give us any sort of fanfare, of course, but a smile from the Department of Homeland Security official or even a second glance at our effort to squeeze all 26 countries onto the tiny box under the line inquiring which countries we visited might have been nice. But our immigration official clearly never got the memo that he was the “face of the United States” even though he was sitting right underneath a poster that told us just that. Hopefully the United States reserves its surliest officials for its own citizens and puts the smiley ones in the foreign lines.
As I mentioned the other day, we were experiencing the second May 3, 2011 of our lives, a mistake that luckily only cost us $44 extra dollars in extra fees. (And, of course, the cost of an extra day in Hawaii, but every day in Hawaii is priceless). The first May 3 was mostly spent in the air (unfortunately utterly upright in a tiny non-reclining seat), with a small tidbit spent on the ground in Fiji. We couldn’t resist taking a peek at Fiji during our eight hour layover, even though it meant going through immigration and customs, withdrawing Fijian dollars, and haggling with a taxi driver. It’s surprising how hard it is to find the local cuisine in many countries. Everyone we asked for a restaurant recommendation kept suggesting Indian. We finally figured out why – turns out there is a proliferation of Indians in Fiji and their business savvy makes Indian food the most visible. We ended up getting a taste of Fiji via a Mediterranean restaurant owned by an American. They fixed us up some tasty mahi-mahi in a Fijian style along with cassava chips, and we spent much of our time chatting with a really friendly Fijian waitress. Much better than hanging out in the transfer room at the airport, although I got positively attacked by Fijian mosquitoes who honed in on the fresh foreign meat that are my ankles the second I walked out of the airport. I’m still paying for our brief foray into our 26th country visited on this trip. My ankles are blotchy and swollen; the itching is so bad that it kept me up last night despite only getting a few hours sleep on our flight. Thank goodness for Asian Tiger Balm.
Luckily, May 3, Round 2 turned out to be a good day. Our first order of business in the United States was to try the pretzel M&Ms that came out during our time away and that the rest of the world is not privy to. (They get crispy M&Ms instead, a forgotten relic here at home). We found them to be crunchy, salty and sweet as promised. Our next little delight was our rental car. We had reserved a $20 a day budget car on Hotwire and despite getting the hard sell to upgrade for an extra $11 a day at the desk, the parking lot attendant gave us a free upgrade to a brand-new (and rather funky) Chevy HHR out on the lot.
Although I was cursing our laziness in not reserving accommodations in advance because it meant we’d have to try to find affordable lodging in the midst of luxury resorts in our dazed and sleepy state, finding a place to stay for the next eight nights turned out to be relatively painless. We have to be the only people that show up in Kauai without reservations. The locals are friendly and when inquiring where we were planning to stay as a conversation piece, they hid their surprise well with a quick well, that’s good, keeping it flexible! when we responded sleepily that we didn’t know. We had picked up a Kauai Revealed guidebook at the airport since we liked the Revealed series so much on our honeymoon and found that most of the accommodation recommendations had been moved on-line since then. The book is a far cry from Lonely Planet’s fly by the seat of your pants approach and is clearly geared toward advance planners (which is most of the people visiting Hawaii; hell, half of them come here in tour groups). Nevertheless, despite our wavering over whether it was ridiculous to buy a guidebook for a destination in your own country, the guidebook has already served us well several times. Most notably, one of the few accommodation suggestions it had in the book was for Kapa’a Sands Resort, our home for the next week. They’re awesome little condos right by the ocean on the east side of Kauai. Ours is just a studio with a balcony and a kitchen, but it feels like a mansion to us. All of this is a long-winded way of saying that I had my upteenth reminder on this trip not to sweat the small stuff and much of the time it’s just better to let things work themselves out.
Other than Sean having to endure an hour-long haircut hacking by a crazy drunk hairdresser who spoke to him at length about life forces on the island and the apparently fascinating way his hair grows, we’re enjoying our return to the States. Our culture shock at being interjected back into the United States was cushioned somewhat by our month spent in New Zealand. We already gawked at the prices and the large people (present in every car-loving country we’ve visited on this trip; food for thought) and stuffed ourselves with cheese (a food sorely lacking from our Asian diets). But culture shock is here nonetheless. Hawaii might be our most unique state but it is a state for sure. We marveled at not using a plug adapter and driving on the right (Sean’s only veered to the left once!) Our Cokes at lunch were enormous and still could be refilled for free; at dinner, the waitress automatically brought us ice waters at the beginning and our check at the end. Speaking of dinner, we had giant portions of long-awaited honest-to-goodness BBQ and (moist!) chocolate cake. We stocked up on Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups at the grocery store (how could the peanut butter and chocolate taste sensation not have spread worldwide?) and chose cereal from an entire aisle of options. We’ve listened to non-stop coverage about Osama Bid Laden’s death (as opposed to a quick mention on the news in New Zealand) and there’s ridiculous reality shows and game shows that didn’t exist when we left (by the way, Mark Graff is really into his new gig). And please tell me people don’t actually wear pajama jeans?!?!
A peek at Fiji for you too...
...and a peek at Kauai. More to come on this front, of course!
Scenes from Motueka and Golden Bay
Heading north finally brought some sun. We couldn’t drive there fast enough and wee ended up staying for three nights at the Top 10 Holiday Park in Motueka. The town itself was nothing to write home about, but we stayed for two reasons: (1) it was a good base to explore the gorgeousness in the surrounding areas, like the fantastic Golden Bay (above), and, more importantly, (2) I got a second chance at using a jumping pillow. The jumping pillow at the Top 10 in Greymouth comes highly recommended, so I was quite disappointed when the rains on the West Coast turned it into a big, slick accident waiting to happen. When we pulled into the Top 10 in Motueka and saw it too had a jumping pillow, well, we headed straight over.
We knew we were getting close to Motueka when roadside stalls started popping up. It was harvest time for apples, pears, and feijoas (strange fruit the Kiwis love) so we picked up a huge bag of apples for $2NZD. We also grabbed some beans at this roadside stall operating on the honor system.
Heading up and over Tasman Hill towards Golden Bay, you can see sheep, pastures, orchards, and sea for miles.
Our lunch spot in Golden Bay. As we were preparing lunch in our campervan, a woman came from one of the houses across the road from the beach carrying a tray. She brought it over to this bench and ate lunch in a way that made me think that this is part of her daily routine. I could get used to such a routine.
Golden Bay actually didn't look so golden, but it has miles of untouched sand covered with seashells.
Collingwood is the town at the end of the line unless you take a tour out to the split. We found homemade chocolate in Collingwood and that was good enough for us.
Te Waikoropupu Springs has some of the clearest fresh water in the world and is considered to be a sacred spot for the Maori, the native New Zealanders. They used to have ceremonies here for births, deaths, and leaving and returning of travelers.
Scenes from the West Coast
The West Coast of the South Island has miles of coastline along the wild Tasman Sea and mountain ranges galore, but it’s biggest claim to fame is that it is glacier country. Our days on the West Coast, like our trip to Milford Sound, were covered in fog. All the scenic drives were obscured and rain poured down for most of our time there. Thankfully, the clouds parted for one brief day, and that day coincided with our visit to the glaciers, allowing us to see what massive hulks of ice and snow they really are. New Zealand has not one, but two mammoth glaciers that are slowing advancing again away from the sea. You can climb on top of them on guided hikes, but we opted just to take the short unguided hikes to the terminal ice. Standing in front of the glaciers in the massive valleys they’ve carved out is a wild experience.
The rain obscured the snow capped peaks we were supposed to see in Jackson Bay, but the fish and chips at the Cray Pot was delicious!
Views of Mt. Cook and Mt. Tasman from Lake Matheson
Mt. Cook and Mt. Tasman again, along with some bovine friends.
Fox Glacier; our view from lunch. It's not every day that you get to eat lunch in view of a glacier.
Hiking up to the terminal of Franz Josef Glacier (the same one in the big picture, above).
The weather really put a damper on the rest of the West Coast north of the glaciers. I braved the rain in Hokitika to take a picture of this museum. It is housed in a building that was formerly a library donated by Andrew Carnegie.
Putting the grey in Greymouth.