April 9-10 Te Anau and Milford Sound

And so we bid a teary Kia ora to Queenstown. Kia ora is Maori salutation that means "be well". It can be used for both hello and goodbye. And though we were saying goodbye in Maori to one gorgeous part of the country, in just four hours time we would be saying hello to Te Anau our launching off point for Milford Sound, a UNESCO world heritage sight and arguably one of the most beautiful places on the planet. It looked like we might get over Queenstown.

Getting there wasn't going to be too shabby either. We pointed our trusty mini-van due south and followed the southern expanse of Lake Wakatipu toward the town of Kingston at its very southern end. It's a big lake, one of the biggest in the country, and the drive along it's eastern shore rivals the Great Ocean Road - at least for hairiness - if not for the view as well. The rating check for nausea levels was in full use for all passengers.

The weird thing about Milford Sound is that, as the crow flies, it's really quite close to Queenstown. However, there is the small or very large matter of a mountain range or two that stand in the way. As a result, you are forced to drive far to the south, following the lake until you have gone far enough to swing north again and drive back up the adjacent valley. In fact, you could easily drive to Milford Sound in an hour if not for those pesky mountains! Sheesh!

Te Anau is a pretty town that was bigger than I expected and seems to claim tourism as its main industry. With very few places to stay in Milford Sound, it's the perfect spot to rest and relax before your trip up the valley. A highlight of our time in Te Anau was a gluten-free pizzeria where Pat could finally enjoy some very good pizza and the mood was fun and festive as we all tucked in to one of our best meals of the trip.

In the morning we were up and at it early because we had a 11:00 am boat to catch in Milford Sound. With a two hour drive ahead of us and not knowing how many photo or nausea stops would be required, we loaded up the lattes and headed out. The first hour of the drive was stunning but relatively flat. The fields were covered with frost and the clouds were hanging low in the valley giving one that sense that we were headed for somewhere truly magical.

After about 1.5 hours, a few 'interesting" bits of road, and two stunning photo ops we came to a traffic light and a traffic jam. Well, not really but traffic was stopped dead. We had arrived at the Homer tunnel, a 1.3 km underground road that burrows straight through the side of a mountain and is the only way "down" to the Sound. A wonder of engineering, it took over 20 years to build with WW 2 getting in the way. It's only really got one lane, hence the traffic light, and within ten minutes it was our turn.

The rest of the road winds its way down to the Sound through a series of switchbacks and before we knew it we were pulling into a very large and very full parking lot close to a very functional visitors centre. I'm always amazed that you can travel so far and still find a latte and fresh croissant just when you need one. No, I guess we weren't exactly "roughing it in the bush" like good Canadians. On the shuttle to the boat docks we detoured by the busy airport where a fleet of helicopters had just brought in some hunters from a week's worth of killing. The freshly harvested deer antlers were a fascination for the boys who I don't think had ever seen the remnants of such a large, living dead thing.

Then, it was over to the wharf where we boarded our Red Boat Cruises boat and got comfy for a three hour tour... a three hour tour...any Gilligan fans? Well, this place, this unbelievable place is at once gorgeous and disarming all at the same time. Just as you think your mind knows what it is looking at, a huge boat appears no bigger than a speck against sheer cliff walls. They say that mountains do funny things to one's perspective of distance and size and I have never been in a place that toyed with that fact so wonderfully. Just as you were awed by the scale of one view, another appeared around the corner ready to take your breath away.


Highlights had to be the seals we trolled up to, basking on the only rock for miles and the waterfall the captain expertly stuck the bow of the boat into. Said to be twice the height of Niagara Falls, it sounded like we were standing beside a jet engine as the spray and mist covered our faces. It was a fun, awe-inspiring, crazy, once-in-a-lifetime moment and one that seems even more poignant when I think back upon it now. I hope the boys aren't becoming blase about all of the incredible things we are doing. I don't think they are. Our trip to Milford Sound and all of its tunnels, antlers, mountains and waterfalls will linger in their minds longest while all the other stuff fades....won't it? I don't see how it can't.