Tour Sydney whirlwind style

With merely two and a half days in Australia’s largest city, I scoured guidebooks and locals’ minds for suggestions as to the must-see sights. Looking like a total tourist (which I hate doing but sometimes feel is necessary for a myriad of reasons) by sporting my tennis shoes, a windbreaker, and my daypack, I hit Sydney’s streets non-stop.

Now I’ve created my top five must-do list for future travelers:
1. Attend a performance at the Sydney Opera House: Views from the outside do no justice to the acoustically-ideal interior. Learn, as I did, that the Opera House consists of six separate performance halls, not one.
2. Walk the Royal Botanic Gardens: Allow at least two hours to stroll from Mrs. Macquaries Point, offering picturesque views of the Opera House and Harbour Bridge, through the lower gardens along the Farm Cove waterfront.
3. Cross the Sydney Harbour Bridge: While the high fences (installed to hinder “jumpers”) detract from the city views, this typical tourist activity shouldn’t be missed. Empty your camera’s memory card beforehand to provide plenty of space for shots of the city’s skyscrapers, waterways, and world-renowned buildings.
4. Dine waterfront in Darling Harbour: Whether you prefer seafood, Thai, or kangaroo steak, one of the restaurants overlooking Cockle Bay and the Central Business District easily fills a hungry belly. I recommend eggs Florentine at Nick’s for a leisurely brekkie (breakfast).
5. Shop at Paddy’s Market: Every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, stalls fill the ground floor of Market City selling almost anything imaginable. I opted for a pair of faux designer sunglasses, but locals crowded the fresh fruit and veggie stands making that area barely passable.

English doesn't translate to English always

People in the U.S. speak English. People in New Zealand speak English. But English is a broad term for one language and the differences in vocabulary could fill a translation dictionary.

I have been speaking English for the past month, but I haven’t been speaking American. Locals refer to everyday objects with completely different names than I do. Here are a few words:

U.S. English : Kiwi English
Cooler = Chilly bin
Ice pack = Slicker pad
Sandwich = Sammie
Cookie = Biscuit
Flip-flops = Jandals
Swimsuit = Togs
Panties = Knickers
Jacket = Jumper
Tennis shoes = Trainers
Mini-van = People mover

And my favorite Kiwi saying:
Sweet as: I confirm that what you’re proposing is good with me

Since terms like bugger (oh, crud) have infiltrated my daily vocabulary, I feel more integrated into the Kiwi lifestyle. Unfortunately y’all doesn’t translate and only elicits laughs and signals my Southern U.S. upbringing. Apparently, I fool a few people though because my seatmate on my Christchurch to Sydney flight today thought I was a Kiwi. Too bad I’m in Oz now and have to learn the Aussie terminology.

Special thanks to my Christchurch gal Sara for teaching me the majority of my Kiwi English.

Pictured: Some messages, such as beware of falling rocks and ice, are too important to risk being lost in translation. Fox Glacier’s safety signs forgo words in favor of pictures.

Lake Matheson sunrise speaks for itself

As a writer, my professors and editor mentors taught me early in my career to avoid clichés like the plague. But a whole book describing the morning sun peaking over Mt. Cook and cascading onto Lake Matheson would never do justice to the moment. The calm water perfectly reflected Mt. Cook and Mt. Tasman, whose peaks nosed into clouds.

Only four miles outside of Fox Glacier village, the hour’s walk around the lake jumpstarted my day with unparalleled beauty.

Sometimes, a picture truly is worth a thousand words.

View atop Fox Glacier provides perspective

Donning cleated hiking boots and cramp-ons (metal teeth that clamp to the bottom of boots), I cautiously guided my way across the glacier’s slushy surface. For stability, I jabbed my ice pick into the surface. Unlucky me though, previous hikers had worn down the pick’s point to a nub, rendering it almost useless.

Eight hundred steep steps ascending aside Fox Glacier brought our hiking group to this entry point where we trekked onto the ice. Our Fox Glacier Guiding leaders Steve and Megan led us through pre-cut paths, freshening the trail by hacking at the glacier’s face with massive double-headed picks.

All around us, crevasses and séracs added character to the glacier’s surface. Water (previously part of the glacier ice) flowed in crannies, pouring into holes melted away on the surface.

After navigating across blue ice for 20 minutes, we stopped on a flat vantage point. Every direction I turned gave me a more awe-inspiring view. Behind me the glacier inclined sharply toward it’s accumulation zone between the mountain peaks. In front of me, the glacier expanded into the valley, seemingly filling all the nooks in the terrain.

During the last ice age approximately 15,000 years ago, Fox Glacier reached the sea miles away. While the glacier has retreated since, it’s currently growing each year. Standing atop Fox Glacier, I felt I could truly see the glacier’s path, both past and future.

Pictured: Top: Looking at Fox Glacier from down the valley. Bottom: Hiking atop Fox Glacier with the inclined ice face behind me.

Queenstown reigns as the Global Adventure Capital

In what city in the world can you sky dive, bungy jump, hang glide, paraglide, jet boat, white-water raft, mountain bike, ski, ride horses, fish, and hunt almost year-round? Where else but Queenstown, New Zealand?

If anyone else knows of another city where such opportunities exist, please post in the comments. I certainly have never encountered such a Disneyland version of mind-blowing adventure activities to this extent.

For good reason, Queenstown claims the title of the Global Adventure Capital with flying colors. And did I mention all these activities are set against the backdrop of the Remarkables mountain peaks, Lake Wakatipu’s expansive shores, and the Kawarau and Lower Shotover Rivers winding coves? Sorry, that must have slipped my mind.

Actually, I will never forget the backdrop thanks to my bird’s-eye view of the land during my tandem SkyTrek hang gliding flight. At 8 a.m., I harnessed in with my Argentinean pilot Girardo in preparation for a 10-minute soar on the air thermals.

“One, two, three…Step, step, GO,” commanded Girardo as we literally ran off the side of the Remarkables. To my amazement, the air lifted us immediately and weightlessly into the sky. My eyes watered and my nose ran as the wind swept past us.

As Girardo guided our hang glider, I looked around at the amazing scenery. Above us the jagged Remarkables almost pierced the high clouds. Below us on the mountain’s slope, I spotted herds of red stags in velvet. Down on the grassy fields aside Lake Wakatip (as the locals call it), I watched two hang gliders land ahead of us.

“Want to do some tricks?” Girado asked, as we descended toward the landing field.

“Absolutely!” I enthusiastically replied.

“Hold on then” said Girardo, just before sending us into twisting spirals. Our hang glider would plunge downward then bank sharply in one direction before Girardo took us horizontal again. Basically an airborne roller coaster of sorts.

After starting a day with that, not much else could compete. But my new friend Sara and I opted for a jet boat ride nonetheless. Switching from air to water, the tricks continued.

Our Kawarau Jet driver sped down the Kawarau River at up to 85 kilometers per hour, turning the jet boat in thrilling 360-degree spins. While Sara and I couldn’t stop cheering, the Asian girls in front of us screamed at the tops of their lungs.

Diverting off the Kawarau, we skimmed across the Lower Shotover in merely 4 inches of water. Yes, 4 inches! Every wee (meaning “little”) bit, rocks would scrape against the boat’s hull slightly. On one rocky bank, a dirt bike rider awaited our approach then raced us down the river’s shore till we left him behind, desiring our speed.

Before the ride, Sara and I were comfortably dry. Afterward, we looked like drowning survivors. One hundred percent worth the douse to experience more of Queenstown’s adventurous side.

Pictured: Top: Girardo and me practicing before our hang gliding take-off. Bottom: View of the Remarkables from the Kawarau River during the jet boat ride.

My envisioned New Zealand comes alive

World Heritage sites span the globe from the Grand Canyon to The Great Wall of China. In the southwest corner of New Zealand, 2.6 million hectares (I’m pathetic at measurement conversions, so just excuse my switching between metric and standard units.) within four national parks create the Te Wahipounamu World Heritage area. Having just visited Mt. Cook National Park, I next ventured to Fiordland National Park further south to experience another component of these World Heritage lands.

The drive from the lakeside town of Te Anau to Milford Sound passed through vast expanses of untouched land, exactly the images that came to mind when I imagined New Zealand in years past.

Roadside lookout points throughout the Eglington Valley offered great views of sheer mountain faces on either side of the tussock-filled valley. At the Mirror Lakes pull-off, a boardwalk wound through beech forest down to wetlands where the lakes perfectly reflected the mountains in the still water. For a contrasting waterscape down the road at the Chasm, the Cleddau River rushes over and through rock faces, carving out holes and deep falls.

The Te Anau to Milford Highway ends, as expected, at Milford Sound. Tolerating the masses of tour groups was immediately rewarded aboard the boat as the fiord’s hidden coves revealed cascading waterfalls and New Zealand fur seals.

The 1,692-meter-high Mitre Peak rose from the dark, tannin-stained, water to oversee our boat cruise out to the sound’s mouth into the Tasman Sea. My two favorite spots along the ride were Bowen Falls, dropping from a valley in the Darren Ranges, and Harrison Cove where snowmelt from Mt. Pembroke enters the fiord via Harrison River.

Pictured: Top: Mirror Lakes reflecting the mountains across the Eglington Valley. Bottom: Bowen Falls plunging 160 meters into Milford Sound.

Tramping the Hooker Valley

Hearing the words “tramp” and “hooker” in a title could suggest the wrong image of my day. Quite the contrary, Kiwis use the word “tramping” to mean “hiking.” And the Hooker Valley is the valley leading up to Hooker Glacier with spectacular views of Mt. Cook.

The mountain towered above, slightly shrouded in clouds. I snapped away pictures in awe of the mountain’s height. Continuing my 3-hour hike, I walked over two swing bridges, which cross the Hooker River, to suddenly see an even taller mountain. What was the monstrosity before me now?

Apparently I had mistaken Mt. Sefton for Mt. Cook. Mt. Cook dwarfs Mt. Sefton by a few thousand feet, reaching 3755 meters and being the tallest peak in Australasia. Munching on my trail lunch of canned tomato basil tuna (New Zealand and Australia have every flavor imaginable of canned tuna!) and an apple, I sat aside Hooker Lake watching a Japanese hiker skip rocks toward mini icebergs. Mt. Cook loomed overhead with its formidable ice- and snow-capped peaks. Around me countless other mountains jutted into the air. Of the 27 mountains in New Zealand over 3050 meters, 22 are in Mt. Cook National Park.

After walking back into Mt. Cook Village, I met Pat and Maureen for “ice blocks,” a.k.a. ice cream treats. Pat and Maureen happen to be the most amazing 73-year-olds who can walk me into the ground without seeming winded. Pat’s calf muscles are so massive that they look like implants. Needless to say, I aspire for their health later in life.

That wasn’t the day’s capstone though. To cool off from my hike, I took a swim in the glacier-fed Lake Pukaki. Well, a swim is a huge exaggeration. It was more of a running dive into the 40-degrees-Fahrenheit water with an immediate retreat to my towel.

That wasn’t the day’s capstone either though. Sitting on my cabin’s porch, I had an unobstructed view of Mt. Cook and its neighboring peaks as the trees parted perfectly. Nothing better than having some distance to truly appreciate what I had just experienced up close.

Pictured: Top: Mt. Cook up close during my tramp. Bottom: Mt. Cook from afar on my porch at Glentanner Park.