Milford Sound

From Queenstown, home of never-ending blood chilling adventures, my tour bus takes me to Te Anau. I’m traveling around New Zealand on Stray, a hop on hop off backpacker tour bus, although the definition of backpacker seems to include everyone (and their grandparents) these days. www.straytravel.com

Rob, the Stray bus driver who has been my guide since I began my tour in Picton several weeks ago, is his usual cheery self at 8:00 a.m. He has the music blaring and encourages us to dance in our seats, periodically interrupting any chance of dozing off with intermittent bursts on the loudspeaker, “If I can’t sleep – you can’t sleep!”

Not that I want to sleep – closing your eyes here is not really an option, unless you want to miss the scenery that makes New Zealand one of my favorite countries in the world. We drive through mountain passes brimming with waterfalls, fields of green stretching towards distant hills and lakes as still as glass. We stop off in Te Anau to get our tickets for the cruise on Milford Sound and I’m immediately sorry that I didn’t allow more time to explore the giant lake and its surrounding hiking trails. It’s gorgeous.

En route to Milford Sound, Rob pulls the bus over at the Mirror Lakes. A series of small lakes set near the foot of towering mountains, the water is so clear that we can see all the way to the bottom from our vantage point on the manmade bridges. Even more spectacular than that is the reflection on the calm, clear water. The mountains, sky and clouds are mirrored perfectly on the lakes – the only difference is that they are upside down!

Our next stop is a huge field, framed by more of New Zealand’s stunning mountains in the distance. We romp and play in the long grass like children let out to play after years of captivity. Something about the remote field and no other signs of life, (not even traffic!), make me feel like we are the only people left in the world. We take turns posing for pictures nestled in the long grass with the epitome of “nature” as our backdrop.

We continue our drive with breathtaking scenery all around us. Rob points out another glacier nestled high in the mountain. We cross over a bridge that takes us over a rushing river of turquoise blue water. Before we arrive at Milford Sound, we have to wait for our turn to enter a long, one way tunnel. It takes about 15 minutes before the light signals our turn to drive through to the other side.

Milford Sound (which is actually a fiord formed by a glacier) turns out to be one of those places I could sit and stare at for hours. A huge body of water is encased between looming cliffs on either side. Palm trees dot the shoreline and Mitre Peak, one of the most photographed segments of the Sound, rises grandly in the distance. Apparently, it rain 350 days a year here, but today, the sunshine gods have taken pity on us and blessed us with a perfect day. We climb onto our boat, along with hundreds of other tourists, for the two hour cruise. We all opt to be on the top deck where the sun can flush our cheeks and where we can breathe the fresh air. Even though Rob must have done this countless times by now, he seems as excited as the rest of us.

We cruise down the calm water and sit back to enjoy our surroundings. I can’t stop snapping pictures; every few minutes we come across something else that requires a photo. Huge waterfalls cascade down nearly vertical slopes of rock and massive brown seals sun themselves on gigantic boulders. Eventually we reach the end of the Sound, where we say a brief hello to the ocean before heading back the way we came. The fiord is about 16 kilometers long, and the return trip is equally as impressive as the outward journey.

On the drive back to Te Anau, we make several more stops that we missed on the way up. The Alpine Road between Te Anau and Milford Sound is just as spectacular as the cruise itself. Rob pulls the bus over at another incredible viewpoint, where we can see snow-topped mountains in between thick trees. We’re in such a low valley that I have to stand on a vehicle to get a good picture.

A short walk brings us farther into the woods, and we walk silently in between the thick trees that block out the hot sun. We arrive at the chasm, a deep gorge filled with fallen logs. White water pours down from under the bridge we are standing down, splashing around the rocks and dead trees that attempt to fill the hole. When we get back to the bus, we are introduced first hand to the world’s only alpine parrot – the kea. The brown and green birds can grow up to 50 cm and definitely not afraid of people, although people may be afraid of them. As I bend down to photograph the parrot, which is chewing on some fruit left by another traveler, the bird comes right up to me – close enough to see the size of its claws and the sharpness of its beak. I back away and decide to use my zoom lens to get better pictures.

Our next stop is at the foot of the mountain that is home to the glacier we saw on our way to Milford Sound. Rob gives us time to take as many photos as we want, but when we get back on the bus, we’re delayed by some more keas. A huge parrot lands on our roof, and starts pecking at the fire escape. Two cars of tourists pull up, only to be held captive in their cars as several keas land on their roofs. It’s easy to see why the birds are considered pests in some parts of New Zealand!

As we make our way closer to Te Anau, our stop for the night, I notice something that makes me laugh. In some farmers’ fields, it’s deer that are grazing on the grass, much like you would see cows in fenced in areas in North America. After watching the sun set over Lake Te Anau, we stop at a grocery store. Rob has organized another group dinner, and we pick up the fixings for a spaghetti feast.

We take turns preparing the meal and cleaning up, and over dinner, our eclectic group reminisces about their favorite part of the day. I don’t think I’ve ever shared a meal with people from so many different countries. That’s another thing I love about traveling with Stray – the friends you meet. It’s wonderful to see all the amazing sights that New Zealand has to offer, but to share those sights with new friends in new places is unbeatable.

Stewart Island

It is generally recognized that New Zealand consists of two main islands – the North and the South. I opted to travel the South Island first as I’m traveling in January and wanted to head north as summer came to an end. What most travelers miss, however, is New Zealand’s little known third island – Stewart Island. Not all of Stray’s passes include Stewart Island, but it’s one place I would recommend that you don’t leave out of your itinerary, especially if you’re a bird lover.

On our way to the ferry that will bring us to New Zealand’s southernmost island, we drop several passengers off in Invercargill. A small town with not much more to do than relax or go to the cinema, Invercargill’s claim to fame is the movie The World’s Fastest Indian. Anthony Hopkins filmed the acclaimed movie in and around the small town.

Today though, the sun gods have taken a day off and our ferry crossing is rough due to rain and high winds. Thankfully, it’s a short ride, and by the time we arrive, the rain has stopped and I’m all ready to do some bird watching. Stewart Island is a haven for native New Zealand birds as it has not been overrun with mustelids – small mammals that belong to the weasel family. Additionally, the rich coastal waters provide abundant food for sea birds.

From the hostel, it’s only a short walk to a small water taxi that takes me to Ulva Island in Paterson Inlet. Completely predator free, the Open Island Sanctuary is a bird lover’s paradise. Since the eradication of rats, the birdlife and fauna on the island has flourished, making it the perfect spot to spend some time with nature.

Within minutes of leaving the dock, I spot my first bird. It’s a weka, (pronounced wicka in Kiwi) and the chicken sized feathery brown bird warbles right up to me. I snap some photos until I spot another bird, a tiny robin, on the path ahead of me. Another weka struts out of the bush and I don’t know where to point my camera. A splash of green deeper within the forest catches my eye and I see my first wild parakeet. It’s green and red feathers make it seem almost smug in comparison to New Zealand’s other, more earthy colored birds.

I don’t see any bellbirds, but I hear them chirping away in the bush. A tui, with its tuft of white feather under its neck, flies across the path in front of me, too fast for me to capture it on film. Over the course of my two hour walk, I spend maybe about 5 minutes without any birds in sight. I see black oystercatchers on the beach, their orange beaks radiant against the sand. And my final sighting is a huge wood pigeon sitting so far up in the tree that I almost miss him. Ulva Island has lived up to its reputation.

After dinner, I rest for a bit and wait for the true adventure to begin. I have come to Stewart Island with one goal – to spot a kiwi bird in the wild. Many New Zealanders have never seen a kiwi bird outside a zoo, and even though it is a national icon, the kiwi is not easy to find. The Stewart Island Brown Kiwi inhabits the island, and is thought to number somewhere around 20,000. Because the island has no stoats, weasels or ferrets, the population is fairly stable and this makes Stewart Island one of the best places to spot a kiwi in its natural environment.
The best time to go kiwi spotting is at night. My tour doesn’t leave until 9 p.m., and the group of 7 heads out in the boat as dusk is falling. Blue penguins swim beside us and the sun setting over Stewart Island and its lighthouse is nearly worth the $100 price tag. We putter around Stewart Island for about 30 minutes, and eventually pull up to a private dock. We’re given raincoats as it’s raining once again, and each person is given a flashlight. We’re told not to turn them on unless absolutely necessary; they’ll harm our chances of seeing a kiwi in the world.

The kiwi, to add to its mystery, is rare and hard to find. The flightless bird will shy away from noise and light so we amble along in the darkness hardly daring to breathe. Our guide plays a recording of both the male and female kiwi’s call – it sounds a lot like a high pitched screech. Interestingly, kiwis reverse roles when an egg is laid; it’s the male that sits on the egg for incubation purposes. It’s a fair trade – the female kiwi carries a monstrous egg, which is 15-20% of her body weight, one of the biggest proportions in the world.

We walk for only 15 minutes or so until our guide stops us. We turn off all lights and he advises us to stand as still as possible and listen for scratching in the bush. The kiwi uses its long beak to smell for food in the ground, and it makes a distinctive noise. The kiwi is the only bird with external nostrils which are located at the end of its beak. After about 5 minutes of standing as still as I can manage, I hear it. It’s faint at first, but there is something scratching about 20 meters away from us. Only the guide turns his light back on - he knows how to angle it as not to frighten the kiwi.

The scratching gets closer and closer and soon we can see an outline of Steward Island Brown Kiwi. The female bird is bigger than the male at about 4 kilograms. We have come across a male and he is about the size of an average chicken. His brown feathers look soft and hair-like and his dark eyes look almost like holes in his head. We all stand as still as statues, not wanting the kiwi to see us and break the spell. It works.

He sniffs around the path and comes right up to my feet. I feel like the luckiest person on earth as he pokes my muddy runners with his long, straw-like beak. I was happy enough just to see a kiwi in the wild; to have one sniff my feet makes me feel like I’ve won the lottery. He sniffs around the path without even realizing we are there, and heads off into the opposite direction and I finally let out my breath. We’re all smiles as we trek farther into the night, all the way to Ocean Beach where we see kiwi footprints. We don’t locate any more kiwis that night, but this one close encounter was well worth the price and the foray into the rainy night. We’re not allowed to take photos of the bird, but the pictures in my head will remain with me forever.

When I get back to the hostel at 1 a.m., I’m so excited that I have to wake everyone up to tell them what I’ve accomplished. They’re not nearly as thrilled as I am, but the next morning, Rob makes up for my companions’ lack of enthusiasm. He tells me that he has never met anyone who has seen a kiwi in the wild. I’m so glad that I’m the first.

For more information on Stewart Island and to book kiwi spotting tours, visit www.stewartisland.co.nz.

For a closer look at life overseas, check out my e-book, Watching Clocks Sing in Turkish, detailing the adventure-filled year I spent teaching in Turkey!

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