Between the Cracks

The moment we had finished getting our faces happily slapped by the wind we needed to dash straight off on an eight hour drive up to Franz Josef. We had to resist stopping every twenty minutes to take photos otherwise we would end up arriving there the next morning but we knew some scenery would just beg for our attention.

The drive was just as utterly spectacular as usual and we were making good progress until we saw we had less than a quarter of a tank of petrol left. When we pulled up in Haast at the last and only gas station for the next 120km, the 24 hour card machine was out of order and the shop had shut for the night. A few minutes later we were joined by another couple in the exact same situation and after lengthy discussions we decided it was best to keep driving then to spend over 100 dollars for accommodation at the only motel in town.

We set off and thanked every mountain climb and corner we passed and with the rain now heaving down we really didn't fancy a night on the corner of the road. Soon our last bar of petrol was flashing at us and we were coasting down the slopes in order to save any last juice we had. Amazingly enough we actually made it to Franz Josef and reached a filling station where low and behold it didn't accept credit cards! We left and drove at snails pace to find somewhere to sleep only to find the every office in town closed an hour ago. It was all rather hilarious and Laura got a whopping migraine to top it all off.

Eventually we crawled into a self check in campground and said to hell with setting up the tent and slept in the car for the second night running. These were desperately tired times, especially as our car is a Daihatsu, the size of a matchbox that not even a small child should attempt to sleep in. It seems our last few weeks of sleeping in a tent every night mixed with driving what must be the entire length of New Zealand and back again is starting to wear us down now and ohhh do we smell. I had my first shower in a week here and I would have loved to have put the stench that raised up from under my clothes in a jar so you could experience what wonders I smelt that evening.

The following morning my brain was almost dancing out of my ears as we were to set foot and climb upon a real life glacier- The Franz Josef Glacier, otherwise known by the early Maori's as Ka Roimata o Hine Hukatere, which translates to 'The Tears of the Avalanche Girl' which sounds much better. The legend has it that a lover who lost her lover over the edge of one of the local peaks wept and her tears formed into the glacier.

Once we were suited and booted in all the appropriate gear, we got on board a rather old lady mixed with weed smelling bus and took a short ride up to a car park where we all got out and walked for 45 minutes to come face to face with the monster. Our tour group was then divided into two separate teams, the first were to be the more experienced trekkers who would take the lead up and the second were the not so good who would follow far behind. You could choose what side you thought best suited you but Laura and I were the only two to be picked to be in the first group. Maybe my beard is making me look like a well travelled explorer or maybe our tour guide was more interested in chatting up Laura. Either way we felt quite chuffed and our dread-headed enthusiastic leader named Cliff was brilliant at his job and clearly loved his everyday hike on the ice.

When Franz Josef first came into view, the iced tongue shaped glacier didn't look all that impressive, but by the time we reached the base to start our climb, the beast showed it totally unreal magnificent size. You could fit the entire city of Auckland on it and still have room for Southampton. We then put on our spikey cramp-ons and were then given three important rules, one was walk with your legs apart not to catch the straps that were wrapped around our boots and two was to raise your feet higher than usual as the extra inch of heel could easily cause us to trip up or worse, fall over the edge. The last rule was to grip the guide ropes whenever they were around and to never let go.

It all sounded easy enough, although within the first few steps Cliff spotted Laura who with a few other members of our group was walking like a tip toeing fairy. He told us to crouch like we were having a poo and stamp hard into the ice and we couldn't go wrong. It didn't take long to get the swing of it but a few members of the group who clearly didn't know much English carried on walking in all manner of weirdness.

The moment we had climbed from the slightly ugly, grey rocked covered start to the glacier on to the blinding sheets of blue and white compacted ice I could honestly have secretly wet myself with joy, if it wasn't for the fact that my hot wee might melt a hole and swallow me up. That would be a pretty nasty way to go if you ask me but Cliff reassured us that cracks suddenly opening and eating you up only happens in the movies. It made me feel calm until he shouted to a member of our group that if he should take one more step further that the edge would give away and he would fall to his death. The danger here is very real and this situation happened on more than one occasion.

We continued climbing further up the glacier with Cliff carving the way for us with his pick axe. Halfway along we took a rest to wait for the other group to catch up a bit and were given a challenge to fit through a tiny quite vaginal shaped tunnel. Laura was first to get down in the hole whilst most of our team looked horrified and refused to go anywhere near it. Laura didn't actually go through but helped pack down the ice that Cliff was cutting to make the exit to the cave slightly bigger. I wasn't going to miss giving it a try so I slipped in, camcorder in hand and slowly squeezed my way through with the ice touching and starting to freeze every part of me. I almost made it to the end but having the extra thickness of my glacial coat meant I was fatter than usual and when my bag around my waist with my water bottle in became wedged below I was well and truly stuck. I was laughing with my hands sliding all over the place trying to free myself, but at the same time I was getting quite hysterical and thought to myself that if the glacier should decide to move then I would be the filling in it's sandwich. Luckily I made it back out to take a large breath of fresh air in.

After a toe tingling hour and a half trekking up passed massive crevasses and sharp iced peaks we had to make our descent. We went down a different route which was even more magical than the first way and that had blown my mind. My favourite bit was when we all had to duck down and clamber through a perfectly clear ice cave to arrive at a lengthy drop where water was flowing streaming down far below. The landscape had obviously changed overnight with the ever changing glacier and Cliff had to radio the other team to not come this was as it was too dangerous now. That didn't stop us and if we hadn't of been chosen for this group then we would have never of seen this beautiful area. A few minutes later we were in the same situation again where another section of the ice had moved dramatically and created a somewhat scary, deep looking water hole that could give way and grow at any time. We moved swiftly on and the trek ended shortly afterwards with us both in a buzzing mess. I can't describe how damn exciting it all was and I will be forever thanking my parents who gave me money for my birthday in order to do something special and this couldn't have been any more spot on.

We drove on to Rapahoe and the weather decided to pour down again, the summers here really are as bad as at home. With that in mind we found ourselves a bit of a treat, a budget campsite that had cabins for around 40 dollars. Our converted caravan/outhouse looked ragged, old and about to fall flat but it was truly brilliant to have a double bed, fridge and TV for the night. We haven't slept in a bed since we arrived weeks ago on the South Island and we were going to enjoy every second of it.

We sat on the bed and watched a tremendously bad film, ate our dinner and it almost felt like home. An awesome way to end an awesome day!

Oohhh my did we sleep well and with us not having to check out till 11am things were even more easy that morning. We soon got on the road again and made our way to see the unique rock formations in Punakaiki. Laura had obviously caught up with her lack of rest and sang Christmas carols the whole way there to my delight. Thankfully we soon arrived to the fascinating sculptures. These 30 million year old limestone rocks have been formed from acidic rain, wind and sea and look like layers upon layers of pancakes giving them there name, yep, Pancake Rocks. They were most interesting although we had hoped to see the blow holes there as well which are meant to spurt out high all over the rocks, but the tide was too far out and the sea a little flat.

We still left feeling satisfied and headed over to Hanmer Springs where we would camp for the night and take a therapeutic dip in the recommended sulphur pools there. We had hoped that it might be as relaxing as the onsen we had found in Japan which was situated in a jungle, halfway up a cliff with a waterfall flowing over the edge. It wasn't anything like it. The springs had been turned into a tacky holiday resort feeling experience with hundreds of misbehaving kids and their just as annoying parents. Maybe I'm being a little harsh as we did actually enjoy it, bathing in the different types of pools varying in temperatures between 33 degrees and 41 and there certainly were minerals in the water as they managed to transform my pure silver thumb ring into a graffiti-ed mess of purples and copper.

We stayed for a few hours and regardless of what we thought of the place, both of us came away completely relaxed and ready to crash our heads out for the night. This time the tent was ready, and being back up in the Northern part of the island warm and cosy sleep didn't take long!