Tag 71: Evil Trees and Terrorist Tanks

08.09.2016

To meet the tight holiday schedule, an early wake-up call is required today. As they say, the early bird catches the worm. However, where we are going, to the harbor, there is plenty of competition for our proverbial breakfast, as there are countless seagulls searching for food at the harbor. Not a big deal, instead of fighting over worms, we board the first ship that sets sail towards the sea and find ourselves in the middle of a memorable, albeit somewhat overpriced sightseeing tour through Milford Sound fjord.

Looking at the masses of portals and huge vacationer ships that lie here, it is slowly understandable that it is not vacation time in New Zealand at all. All the better for us, as we are surrounded by (comparatively) few vacationers at most attractions and viewpoints. However, looking at the roads, it is hard to imagine that there could be even more campers on the road here in the New Zealand summer, as the highways are already dotted with caravans.

Milford Sound obviously knows about its beauty and popularity and charges a high price for it. For a handsome price, however, you get to see a truly unique backdrop. The glassy smooth lake and the towering mountains that surround it compete for our attention. The sun occasionally shines through and creates wonderful rainbows under the waterfalls that find their way through the almost vertically growing trees. Here and there, some seals sunbathe and seem to know that their living room is one of the most beautiful in the world.

Fascinated by so much photo material, but also a bit overwhelmed due to the very low sun, we try to capture at least somehow what we see in front of our organic lens. This place would probably be the Mecca of every photographer, for me it is more a compelling proof that I can't even take photo shots that meet my standards at the most beautiful places in the world.

Fortunately, Gudi is blessed with a better eye and accomplishes what I wouldn't be able to do even in my dreams, namely to capture sharp and characteristic shots of the pompous landscape.

On our return journey, we learn that a tree avalanche (since the trees here only grow on moss that anchors in the rock wall, this sometimes happens) has destroyed parts of the harbor and we were the first and also the last ship to set sail today. I chuckle a bit, but also thank the Almighty, as our streak of bad luck seems to be turning around after all. To make matters worse, we are even allowed to visit the additional tour, which would have only been allowed for a smaller, even higher-priced group of vacationers. However, since no other boat could pick them up, we are lucky to be able to go down into the 10m deep substructure of a scientific museum. Since there are several factors that come together in the fjord and, among other things, hardly let any sunlight through to the water surface, this corridor reflects what is normally only visible at a depth of 70m. Therefore, we expect to see whales, giant octopuses, and possibly the discovery of the sunken Titanic. In reality, we only see a few fish, which is a bit too little for someone who has experienced the Great Barrier Reef. Just as I am about to complain, Gudi reminds me that we only "slipped" into the tour for free and that I cannot demand a refund for the money I never paid. This sounds logical even in my mind exposed to the pressure of depth, so I refrain from complaining.

Arriving at the harbor, there is panic and chaos. Fire departments without end, barriers, and a sophisticated security plan ensure that we cannot see the estimated three to five trees that have fallen on a protruding house, nor can we be injured by them.

After counting, we are "released" and drive back on the mountain road. According to my calculations, the tank is more than sufficient, which is why I don't drive particularly fuel-efficiently at first, as we have to make progress in order to escape the food-seeking keas.

Not so shortly before the next, saving gas station, an interesting red light starts to blink and I understand that my optimistic assessments were probably a little wrong. I try to drive only on momentum for at least 40 minutes and drive at a maximum of 60km/h, cursing every incline that comes our way. With the last bit of strength, we roll into the gas station, which unfortunately is not the cheapest in the area. I want to keep driving, a heated discussion with Gudi later, however, we decide to fill up on the spot, contrary to my principles.

We drive back towards Wanaka via the nice skiing village of Queenstown, in order to book our lift passes for the hopefully still upcoming day of skiing early in the morning the next day.

Gudi's glorious laws:

Never use more than 2/3 of the tank, you never know what will happen.

Gudi slowly realizes that it could be because of me that various mishaps occur and end badly or narrowly. I, on the other hand, am a boundless optimist and sometimes also a bit too self-confident, so I don't always assess situations completely truthfully. A small (emphasis on: a really small) part of me has therefore resolved to listen more to Gudi in the future, in order to avoid one or the other car escapade. Another part of me believes that I have to show Gudi the true hardships of life, which is why he apparently manoeuvres us into rather stupid situations over and over again.