A New Zealand Journey, Part 1

Welcome back. It’s been a year since Ellen Haack guest blogged with her travelogue on Vietnam’s Mekong Delta (Part 1 and Part 2). Ellen and her husband, Barry, recently toured New Zealand. Succumbing to my pleas, she sorted through their photos to compile another incredibly scenic travelogue. Instead of my usual Friday post and Tuesday photo addendum, I’ll split her material over the two days.

Join my husband and me on a visit to New Zealand.

New Zealand road sign.

Located in the southwestern Pacific Ocean at about the same south latitude as Connecticut’s north latitude, New Zealand is comprised of two major and many smaller islands. We traveled around the South Island, arriving at Christchurch, the island’s largest city with a population of just under 365,000.

Map of New Zealand with principal locations.

New Zealand is nearly as large as Colorado, with a population of 4.4 million. About 15 percent of the population is the indigenous Maori, who settled the country between 1000 and 1200 A.D.

The country is a former British colony. A Dutch ship landed there in 1642, a British ship in 1769 and the Europeans settled in the mid-19th century. Tourism and agriculture are major contributors to the economy.

Let's get started. 

Our luxury RV accommodations--the “Kiwi” way to travel.

First stop, Akaroa Harbor on the East Coast’s
Banks Peninsula just southeast of Christchurch.

The Moeraki Reserve is a little farther south of Christchurch.

The Moeraki Reserve is home to sea lions.

The Moeraki Reserve is also home to penguins, such as this
yellow-eyed penguin, one of six species found in New Zealand.

Surat Bay is on the south coast of South Island.

Surat Bay also has its share of sea lions.

Curio Bay, not far from Surat Bay, has a
petrified forest embedded in the coastal rock.

We wished we had camped at the Curio Bay
Campground, in the flax and right on the ocean.

Like its neighbor, Australia, New Zealand has
lots of sheep, farmed for both meat and wool.
(Seven sheep per person but who’s counting?)

The South Island’s interior offers views as
spectacular as those along the coast.

We were happy that the snow was only in the mountains.

We’ll stop here for the day and continue next Tuesday. Thanks for stopping by.

Gone Camping

Welcome back. Jogging this morning, I noticed the RVers are back. I tried to be very quiet when I passed. As recreational vehicles go, this one’s a nice size; a step up from what I guess is still called a camper. I never see the RVers, just the RV. It reappears for a few days every 4 to 6 months, parked in front of the same house, plugged into the house with a long power cord.
 
I wouldn’t want to pay for the gas, but an RV this size seems like a comfortable way to travel and camp out. If you want the real thing, you can always unpack your sleeping bag and curl up under the stars or pitch a tent, breathe the fresh air and cook over an open fire. Or run inside if it rains.

Warren’s parents, camping in mid-1930s.

My parents hiked and camped a lot but stopped that sort of thing after my brother and I were born. Frankly, my mother didn’t look that thrilled in the camping photos I found. It’s possible she just woke up and my father told what she missed. Once, when she was sleeping, he saw a snake slithering across her body! Shouting might not have the desired effect, so he just watched. The snake slithered on by.

I don’t know any details about the snake or its family heritage, but, when young, I always envisioned something like a medium size boa constrictor, albeit rare for New York’s Adirondacks. Maybe that’s why I’m not wild about camping.

 

My Camping Life

The fellows who prepared the campsite for a

UN project in Northwest China, early 1980s.

I shared my most recent camping experience in my first blog post. It was long ago, far away and short. I didn’t select the site, which was near a flowing stream for bathing. I wasn’t responsible for cooking or setting up the tent, which was large and nifty. And I didn’t have to dig the restroom facility, which was also pretty nifty.

One of the cooking areas at the

China campsite, early 1980s.

My only other semi-memorable camping experience was for an undergraduate summer engineering survey camp--5 weeks in a tent for 5 credit hours. I think there were 20 to 30 students. I don’t recall how many tents we shared, but we were within crawling distance of a structure with plumbing facilities. I remember the cook, from a fraternity, but not the food, so it must have been ok.

The restroom at the Northwest

China campsite, early 1980s.

None of us was overjoyed about being there. It sure cut into our months for earning and playing. Several students, particularly those who were married, tried to commute, even when we had evening meetings or assignments, which was regularly. We were about 20 miles from campus.

We did learn. We employed every known ground surveying approach to map a chunk of terrain that encompassed a small forested mountain or big hill, depending on where you’re from, and a small lake.

We also went off to collect data for monitoring ground subsidence over an underground salt mine. We never saw the mine, but we did get to see a student being driven off to a hospital. That day’s lesson was avoid hitching rides on a car hood when you’re carrying a precise level.

Wrap Up

This is all to say that when our son, Noah, was growing up, it was my wife, Vicki, not me, who took him camping. When they returned each time, I didn’t bother to ask if he liked camping, because all he ever talked about were the side trips--whitewater rafting, ATV riding, lying in a field to watch a Leonid meteor shower.

Yep, those would have improved my attitude about camping when I was young, even if they weren’t as cool as watching a boa constrictor crawl across your tentmate.

Thanks for stopping by.