April 11-12 Dunedin

With Milford Sound tucked unforgettably into our heads, the next morning we were off to Dunedin on the south eastern shores of the south island and a relative breeze at only 3.5 hours worth of driving. Dunedin, as its name ably suggests, was founded by Scots and so much of it today continues to speak loudly of that heritage. Home to New Zealand's first university, a Cadbury chocolate factory, and an albatross sanctuary, there was much to see and eat here and again, of course, we were stunned by the scenery. Settled in and around a gorgeous peninsula of rolling hills, Dunedin is also apparently home to the world's steepest street which upon inspection might be challenged by a few in North Vancouver. However, with a full mini-van, Dad was reluctant to give it a go.

The Cadbury factory was a fun first stop and we (Alex in particular) marvelled at the Crunchie candy bar mountain just inside the door. A decent tour was highlighted by a deafening and somewhat interactive shower of a tonne of liquid milk chocolate. With Easter Sunday the next day and with no confirmation of the Easter Bunny's arrival in Dunedin, it only made sense that we stock up in the ever so well-placed candy store. Originally intended as a treat for Grampa's sweet tooth, he was not able to partake in as much as he might have liked and so the rest of us picked up the slack.

Then it was off to the local grocery store to wrestle over the last lamb roast. Wanting to eat in for Easter dinner, Pat did an admirable job of fighting off all comers and even better job of cooking it the next day. Tonight's dinner would however, see us part ways. Bill and Pat were off to celebrate their 29th wedding anniversary with seafood while we headed across a very rainy town to munch on a few monstrous ribs and some heavenly steak. After a few late Rugby League and Masters highlights, it was straight to bed for all.

Next day the kid crew was up early and discovered, to their delight, that there were indeed a "few" eggs scattered about the place. After a bit of cereal washed down with more than a few chocolate Easter eggs, we were fed and ready to explore the gorgeous Otago Peninsula. Home to the only mainland breeding ground of the Royal Albatross in the world and bizarre but beautiful Lanarch "castle", we first made a pit stop at a local market to sample the wares and a pretty cool playground. I swear I never promised Alex the amount of time he was bargaining for on the pirate ship, but without wanting to make too much of a scene, the lawyer-in-him got a few more slides out of me. Oh well, did I really need to go at that exact moment - or did I just want to win? No doubt, the latter.

The Royal Albatross Centre is at the very tip of the peninsula and required yet another dicey drive on the side of a mountain to get there. Once safely parked, the views were incredible and soon we glimpsed a couple of the big birds floating above us over the nearby cliffs. Though we did not want to pony up the trop cher tour fee, the free interpretation centre was quite good and a decent lunch convinced us all that we had had our fill. One incredible fact about the albatross that I must share is that once they leave the nesting ground, they often go for more than FIVE years before touching ground or returning home again! And I thought our year was adventurous!

Turning back toward Dunedin, we decided to take the high ground (literally) and very soon found ourselves at the gates to Lanarch Castle, a sort of Kiwi Casa Loma on the very tip top of the peninsula. Built by a gold-rich Australian who eventually killed himself in the houses of parliament, the colourful "castle" is now privately owned and offers some stunning views of the surrounding countryside. We walked the gardens and grounds in awe of the amount of effort and money required to build such a place, but at the same time appreciating why one might want to. You could develop quite a little God-complex living in such a heavenly locale.

Descending into Dunedin we made one last detour for Baldwin street - that steepest street - I alluded to earlier. After sizing it up and turning tail, we headed back to our very comfortable house on George Street in the middle of town. This place, this house, was far and away our nicest accommodation of the trip and a very fitting place to spend a "homey" evening over roast lamb. It was a meal and a moment where more than one of us remarked, "Who'd have thought we would spend Easter in Dunedin, New Zealand?" To which I would respond - about the day, the occasion, the location and the company - "Aren't we lucky."