Cruising Through Milford Sound

As it happens, the great holiday eventually came to an end. On the 19th of April, the movement north along Fiordland National Park began, winding along the eastern outskirts of the park towards the small town of Te Anau.

Te Anau, a remote town located along the south island's largest lake (the aptly named Lake Te Anau), provides an important service to New Zealand's tourism industry. For those not taking a bus from Queenstown or some other distant town, Te Anau is the last stop on the road to Milford Sound, one of New Zealand's most sought out locations.

Only about 120 kilometers from Milford, it is the lone road that runs to and from the fjord, meaning that all visitors are strongly advised to fill up on petrol before proceeding. Though, if you are going to run out of gas, this might be an area where you'd want to do it; the drive alone is nearly as famous as Milford Sound itself.

Arriving in Te Anau late on the same day that the Green Lake adventure ended, we immediately indulged in some of the pleasures that civilization has to offer. Chocolate, soda, chips, steak sandwiches... it got a little out of hand. No regrets.

As night set in, it became time to find a place to camp for the evening. Following the standard procedure of searching for a hidden location to avoid paying for a campground, we discovered a narrow dirt road leading down towards the lake and set up on a large patch of grass. We (Jon) even managed to get a fire going that evening; very small, yet warm enough to feel good as we stuck our feet into the flames.

We awoke early the next morning and stumbled down to the water's edge.


After breakfast, it was time to make the drive to Milford Sound.

As I've already said, the drive was impressive. Though generally a group that thrives on making the best time (some of us more than others), the scenic outlooks offered alongside the highway could not be passed up.


Normally a firm believer in the notion that clouds only enhance photographs, they were very frustrating on this car ride, obscuring some of the most glorious views in the area.

Another highlight of the trip: the Homer Tunnel. A 1.2 kilometer (thanks, Wikipedia!) tunnel granting access to Milford Sound, it was rather narrow. Because of this, a stoplight system was put in place, decreasing the amount of traffic simultaneously flowing in opposite directions.

Below we wait for our turn in the tunnel.


Bursting out of the tunnel, Milford was not much farther, but again we were sidetracked by the surrounding landscapes.

We pulled over at a sign for "The Chasm" (how can you not be intrigued with a name like that?). It did not disappoint.

A huge waterfall that emptied into an... er... chasm-like opening in the earth. It was very loud, and very cool. We hung around and stared at the rushing water for a while, momentarily forgetting our final destination.




Finally collecting ourselves, we made the final push to Milford Sound. Stopping first at the only information center available, we booked our passage on a scenic cruise through the sound. Yes, an incredibly touristy thing to do, but in this case we didn't care.


Milford Sound is consistently ranked as one of the most desirable vacation spots across the world, and to really experience the full effect of its beauty, it is best to see it from the water.

Enormous mountain borders rising over 1000 meters in every direction, waterfalls poured down into the sound in every direction. Dense forests lined the walls of the sound, leaving one to constantly gaze upwards towards an unbroken wall of greenery.


The day itself was a relatively good one. Not exceptionally warm, the weather was clearer than had been predicted, meaning our views wouldn't be badly obstructed.

A big reason why we chose the particular cruise that we did? Free coffee and tea. I mean, after a few cups the ride practically pays for itself!!

Okay, not really, but still... sweet deal. Or so I thought. Turns out drinking hot coffee on a boat on a windy day is more difficult than anticipated.

Whoops.

Fortunately, our captain was a daring one, and he quickly came up with a way to both entertain us and clean the ship.

On an unrelated note, I don't know why "Oh shit!" is my go-to reaction when confronted with something exciting or visually stimulating. It must be subconscious. Annoying though, as every video I want to post has a sound byte of me screaming like an idiot. Obnoxious.

But - oh shit! - it was awesome. And we did drink the water in those cups. Clean and delicious.

For the next few hours we toured around on the ship, checking out Milford Sound from every angle and marveling at its splendor. Extending out to the Tasman Sea, the boat traveled to its edge before turning and heading back into the heart of the sound. It really is an incredible place; if ever in New Zealand, put it on the list of things to see. Do it now.

We even managed to glimpse a bunch of sea lions hanging out on some rocks, basking in the sun. These guys seemed content. Tough life, eh?

Waterfalls everywhere.

The group shot - should probably be expected at this point.

Though hard to tell from this angle, all of the walls are well over 1000 meters high. As such, base jumping is said to be a popular activity within Milford Sound, with thrill-seekers hurling themselves off of these sheer cliffs.

As the sun began to set, the boat had already started making its way back to the dock. But not too quickly; there was still plenty of time to gaze over the railing at the clouds, watching them being illuminated by the fading sunlight.

Disembarking from the ship, we took the subtle advice from our captain and sneaked down a wooden path, hopping several gates in the process. Only a few short minutes down the trail, we found what we were seeking.

The waterfall loomed large and loud, and as we were standing in an area that was supposedly prohibited, the view was ours to enjoy alone. And it was just as great in every direction.

This is the last photograph I took before heading down the path and over the fence, returning to our car and reluctantly turning our backs on Milford Sound for the indefinite future.

That night we made the long drive back to Queenstown, deciding that an appropriate last meal should be enjoyed at Fergburger. Perhaps more glorious than before - or at the very least, just as good - we stuffed ourselves until it hurt to move.

Forcing ourselves out of our seats and into the car, we returned to the camping site where we had stayed a little less than a week before and set up the tents.

The next morning we slept late and hustled little. Racking our brains for ideas as to what we could to do extend the trip, we came up empty. A return to Christchurch seemed imminent.

A full day of driving, one hitch-hiker, and one near-fiasco (lesson: gas stations are very spread out in New Zealand) later, we pulled into the University of Canterbury parking lot.

Though there were still a few days remaining of the holiday, our great journey had come to an end. Sleep, laundry, showers, and real food replaced damp sleeping bags, dirt-covered and stinking shirts, dips in icy lakes, and ramen noodles. As the trip had just been concluded, it seemed like a nice trade-off.

But in reflection, we may have gained less than we thought by our return to organized society. There was something real and magical on that long road trip, and I know it's not something that can be captured by sitting inside or taking a walk just outside. Though we were hardly alone, it was wild and untamed, it was unknown and exciting. It was something that will be difficult to duplicate and maybe impossible to top.

I'm not sure if I will be able to think back on these experiences with pure happiness. There will always exist a sense of longing.

Oh, April. Oh, New Zealand. Why so bittersweet?