Update #1 (10th - 11th July)

After collecting John from his hostel, we made our way out of Queenstown and headed for Te Anau (a small town bordering its more infamous lake). The drive there took us south along the eastern shore of Lake Wakatipu and then back west across a mixture of flat and hilly land. Yet again, a lovely drive in a lovely country - with winter adding its own natural beauty to each different vista.

On arrival in Te Anau (pronounced Tay Arrnow), we checked out the town and then booked into a nice campsite. Emma & I had an unpowered site for 'H', whilst John slept in a single room. After cooking dinner that night, we settled down to watch a movie in the TV room with a few other people.

The movie - Jaws! - was a certifiable classic, but for 20 minutes or so it was interrupted by a rather noisy German lady, who was intent on talking as loudly as possible throughout. At first we kept quiet, then we turned the volume up a few times, but she proceeded to talk progressively louder & louder. My patience is quite well known, as is John's, but Emma (quite rightly in this case) had visibly less tolerance that night. Calmly as can be, she turned around and said the immortal words: "Can you PLEASE speak a bit quieter, because as you can see, we are all trying to enjoy the movie!".

In response, the German lass apparently put her nose up and continued to blab away to her obviously embarrassed friend (who came from Cologne, as I later discovered). Then, after several 'AAGGHH' looks in her direction from yours truly and everyone else in the room, she finally got the message and hushed up.

Some people, eh...


The next morning dawned a little overcast, with some rain/sleet in the air. After paying well over the top for some CD burning (at the only Net cafe in town, of course), we filled up the 'van and made our way towards the infamous Milford Road. WHOOHOO! I was finally en-route to fulfil a lifetime ambition - to visit Milford Sound!

We'd been warned by a few local storekeepers that the weather might be closing in (a large front was on its way). It might therefore have meant the closure of the Road itself (as a precaution). We carried no snow chains (rental vans come with these as standard in the South Island), but were assured we should be 'OK' for the next 5-6 hours or so - more than enough time to get to Milford... well, it would be for most people and in most vehicles! We have a tendency to stop a lot to admire the scenery, shoot up side roads, etc and poor old 'H' isn't the most sprightly of motors, even on a good day!

The rain was really pouring as we made our way north and then gradually west. What scenery we could see was obscured by low-lying mist, but now & again (as seen in the pics in Gallery 7), this lifted to reveal a wonderful landscape - one containing steep mountains, low valleys and curving, glacial river systems. My kind of territory then! The names of the places we passed along the route were also appealing; Eglinton Flat, Knobs Flat, Lake Gunn - fantastic!

After an hour or so, the road started winding its way higher & higher. Soon after this, we spotted a layby that afforded us a fantastic view of the snow-covered mountains ahead, even with the mist present. Just before leaving the layby, we were hooted by a chap in a Toyota Landcruiser (what else?). He turned out to be an employee of the NZ Parks Authority and warned us they were closing the Milford Road at 5pm - between two primary points - as a safeguard against avalanches!! When they experience such heavy rain as we had witnessed that day, it is often the case.

So, taking our cue, we motored off towards Milford, which was still a good hours' drive away. The road now became like something out of a fantasy world - one of harsh winter landscapes and howling snow-filled gales. As the altitude rose, the road became ever more treacherous, so I had to be careful. 'H' is, however, a tough old boot and kept going gamely up the hilly inclines (yes, even with a Chubby Mullet in the front!).

We passed several buildings, most of which seemed to contain either a. workmen or b. snow-ploughing machinery! This kind of made us realise how precarious our current situation was at the time! It's weird to think that at any moment, thousands-upon-thousands of tons of snow could come crashing down on to us! On certain sections of the Milford Road, you are not allowed to stop at all - these are the places where avalanche risks are at the highest. Pictures of several recent 'killer' avalanches on the Road - seen in Te Anau -, were evidence (if any were needed!) of just how 'real' the situation was for us that day...

After leaving the lower slopes behind, we wound up & around a very steep section of road, which reminded me of Alpe d'Huez in the French Alps (Tour de France fans will know what I'm on about!). This tricky section (gritted, but tricky!) eventually led us to another landmark of this famous Road - the Homer Tunnel. Named after an adventurous British pioneer who had the original idea - W.H. Homer - it was carved into the mountain BY HAND!!

A project dreamed up by Mr Homer in 1889, it was finally completed after WWII in 1953! Stretching about 1.2 kilometres in length, it has to be the most remarkable feat of human endeavour I've ever seen.

The drive through the tunnel was duly accompanied by lots of "Ooohhs!" & "Aaahhs!", but the view that awaited us at the other end was quite wonderful. The non-stop rain had created a whole host of waterfalls, which cascaded their way merrily down the mountainsides infront of us (a regular and special feature in this part of NZ). Emma recorded the moment for posterity and kept snapping away as we drove 'H' slowly down the other side (once again the road was icy, but this gave us the time to enjoy the views).

After reaching the lower section of the Road - called The Chasm - we were back in amongst the rainforest. The temperature had risen only slightly, however, so H's fan heater was still on overtime trying to keep the screen demisted (we were all open-mouthed from the scenery all about us, you see!). A little further down the road, we spotted a big gate, which would soon be closed to stop anyone leaving Milford overnight. Little did we know at the time, that same gate wouldn't be opened again until four days later...

On arrival in Milford itself, we recovered our composure after the most amazing road journey we'd probably all ever experienced. The weather at this point was pretty bad, so we gave up on trying to see the Sound itself and checked in to the only accommodation in the area (nothing like a monopoly!) - Milford Sound Lodge: www.milfordlodge.com/

Due to the weather (H is a bit leaky in heavy rain) and the sheer cold, Emma & I decided to join John in a dormitory. This worked out well, as it gave us a nice cosy room to play Yahtzee/cards in and also the relative comfort of a 'normal' bed! We were all a little tired that night, after all the excitement of the journey to Milford, so went to sleep soon after the Lodge's generator was turned off at 11pm.


Update #2 (12th - 14th July)

Our first full day in Milford dawned rather noisily - the rain was coming down in near-horizontal sheets and continued like that pretty much continuously throughout the day. This also meant the precautionary road closure was made permanent and, according to the Lodge staff, would last for a few days. Therefore, we were now officially 'trapped' in Milford Sound, with absolutely no escape whatsoever!! WHOOHOO!!

This gave us the opportunity to befriend the excellent staff at Milford Sound Lodge. By-and-large, they were about our age (27+) and all very friendly. Most of them rotated duties, which included reception, cleaning, cooking and making sure everyone staying there was OK. With the avalanche/road closure situation, they had their work cut out with some people, but most (including us, in our own 'van) were happy to enjoy the isolation and relax their schedules.

The people at the Lodge were a mixed bag:

- Tara, a very bubbly Australian lass, who mainly manned reception
- Richard, a late 20s chap from England who was, I think, the Manager at that time
- Lynnanne, a lovely girl from Canada, who kept us all entertained with her humour and dart-playing ability
- A lass from Northern Ireland, whose name I forget - she enjoyed her cooking duties and also her bar-time at night!

That whole first day (12th) was spent either in their company or down at the village bar (cowering from the downpour), where free pool was laid on all day. I had the impression that one company (or person) owned & operated most of the accommodation/catering businesses in Milford. It seemed, to the casual observer, that everything was coordinated quickly & effectively to make our 'trapped' situation easier to handle. For anyone wishing to visit Milford Sound, we really couldn't recommend the Lodge any higher - you are looked after from dawn to dusk and beyond!

After playing pool for several hours and quaffing a few lemonades (!), we made our way back to the Lodge. Whilst taking our food to the kitchen for cooking purposes, we noticed one or all of us had a strange 'shadow'. A rather large bird-like creature was following us to-and-from the kitchen/lounge area. After the initial 'weirdness' had gone, we noticed on closer inspection it was in fact a bird. Not just any bird, however - a kea! They are so-named because of their distinctive call, which sounds rather like 'keeeaaahhhh'.

Kea's are unique to New Zealand and are found in mountainous regions only. They live mostly on the ground, but still have full use of their feathers. Their plumage is a mixture of mid-green and -brown and adults must stand a little under a foot high (chicks seem bigger, but are simply covered in a warm coat of fluff!). Quite big, then! So, as you can imagine, they make for a comical sight when you find one following you, strutting about as only birds can. I took a few pictures of our particular friend, which can be seen in Gallery 7. Bonkers things, keas...


The next day could have been the same, but we were all determined to actually 'do' something. The options were very limited, however, once again due to the adverse weather conditions. So, stuck for ideas beyond going for a walk in the rain, we strolled over the reception for a chat with Lynnanne and Richard.

It turned out none of the boats were operating, due to both lack of customers and also the weather conditions. The walks through the native bush/rainforest would have been "boggy nightmares", so that was out. Then Richard had an idea and made a call to a chap just down the road - Jason. He worked for a company called Rosco's Milford Sound Sea Kayaks: www.kayakmilford.co.nz

After a quick chat, Rich confirmed that Jason would be "Well stoked" to take us out on to the Sound and would call by in 20 minutes or so to collect us in his minibus! Quality! We therefore darted back to our dorm to get ready, excited as hell about our next little adventure together.

The minute I saw Jason, I recognised him from the night before (at the bar). He was a damn good pool player and, typically, I told him so. John, of course, came out with the classic follow-up "He actually told me last night you were s**t and could 'do' you anytime". Thanks, Mullet! Who needs enemies when you have friends like that, eh! Jason, being a Kiwi, took it in good humour as was intended and this set the tone for what was to be a wondefully magical day.

After decamping at the kayak 'HQ', we were bundled into our safety/weather gear. Fook me was it cold, though! The heater in the tent (changing room!) had packed up and the damp air only added to our misery. This was soon forgotten about, however, as we went down to pick up our kayaks. Emma chose to go with Jason, as she wasn't very confident at the time (she is better in a kayak than she thinks, but the extra reassurance of being with our guide helped her). John & I jumped in the other kayak, or should I say John jumped in. I got trapped whilst clambering into the first one, so Jason hauled out a larger one that I eventually managed to fit into. God, I hate being 2m tall sometimes!!

After the other three had stopped laughing at my exertions, we set off on to the water. At first, we paddled away from the Sound itself and made for a small waterway close to the Cleddau River (another example of a British name!). Once there, Jason then guided us into a tiny culvert/creek that was only accessible through some bloody bushes! I was infront, so Mullet-Boy had the steering job, which he was decidedly crap at! I kept telling him to "hold off", as we weren't lined up quite right for the hole in the bush. Then, after many failed attempts, we finally made it through to join a laughing Emma & Jason.

We followed them into a wonderfully dense and silent area of the creek, which was made up of very old rainforest and crystal clear water. You could see some lovely trout swimming about and the flora about us was so diverse and spectactular to behold. Before John was stunned into silence, he managed to say it was one of most beautiful places he'd ever seen. Emma, Jason & I couldn't have agreed more.

After making our way back through the hedge once again (more curses & laughs followed), we started paddling towards the Sound. We noticed the larger swells immediately, mostly caused by the incoming tidal flow and all the waterfalls surrounding the Fiord. The largest of these was dead-ahead of us then and Jason continued in that direction to give us a closer look. It was at this point we realised exactly how lucky we were - there was absolutely no other boat activity on Milford Sound that day. We were, quite simply, all alone out there and it had to be one of the most amazing feelings I've ever experienced. 'Alone in paradise' you could say, although a paradise not to everyone's liking, I am sure - mountains and cooler climates appeal as much to me, as sun-kissed beaches do to so many others.

When I say cooler, I should really say bloody freezing! With the water constantly splashing over our frozen mitts, we felt like we'd been plunged into an ice-cold tank and then been left to dry off out in the cold air. Emma & John felt the effects of the cold before me, but Jason just carried on seemingly unaffected. Kiwis - they're a tough breed, even when as skinny & fit as Jason (and Reidy, our mountain guide buddy at Fox Glacier).

When we approached the waterfall - Bowen Falls - the spray from its cascading torrent reached us a full 150m away! The heavy, continuous rainfall over the last 48 hours had obviously caused a stir high up on the mountains above us. This made the falls much more powerful than was usual for them, but we didn't care - it gave us a wonderful display of the power of both nature and gravity! The villagers of Milford actually use the falls to hydroelectrically generate their electricity and one could imagine, on days like this, all their lightbulbs burning that much brighter!

The closer we rowed to Bowen Falls, the harder it became to paddle. The strength of the current created by the raging torrent was incredible and it took all our effort to get within 20m of the fall's base. Taking pictures was a big no-no at this distance, as the camera would've give up the ghost within seconds! Even our waterproof gear was struggling at this range! Taking this as our cue, we followed Jason/Emma out of harm's reach and back into the main body of water once again. Before continuing along the shoreline, Jason made us stare at a fixed point on the falls above (not easy!) for about 30 seconds. When looking at the trees to the left immediately after, we could all see a negative version of the falls projected on to the green mass - you have to love 'tricks of the eye'!

Further along the shoreline, we paddled up to a place locals call the 'Garden of Eden'. It was the base of a tiny watefall, but one that must've fallen about 200ft, at least! Jason told us to get as close to the cliff face as possible and look straight up - wow, what a view! The only downside was, of course, the falling, freezing water absolutely drenching us at the same time! We also grabbed a handful of the water, which tasted absolutely divine (better than any bottle of Evian or Peckham Spring!). Whilst grabbing my handful of H20, I nearly managed to capsize our kayak, much to John's horror!!

We proceeded to paddle about the Sound for another hour or so, but time seemed to disappear for a while. Even with a light-to-heavy rain falling continuously, we were just so awestruck by the scenery around us it was hard to think about anything other than that which nature had created (just for us, it seemed!). The mist, up to this point, had stayed low and had therefore obscured the high peaks about the Sound, including the most famous of all - Mitre Peak (so named by the crew on HMS Acheron because it looked just like a Bishop's hat!). It was a shame, but we were still surrounded by an incredible variety of natural beauty, so couldn't complain really!

After several hours of paddling towards the sea, Jason asked us to turn around and start heading back. Just as he did so, two things happened at once on each kayak. On mine, I noticed the sun was peeking below the clouds in the distance, at the exact point where the Sound meets the sea. Oh what a sight it made for us all and I tried my best to record the moment for posterity (without sinking the kayak in the process). The astounding quality of light when seen in situations like that, can never really be captured adequately on film/card. The scene will, however, stay in my head for quite a while...

At the same time, Jason noticed something swim past his kayak - something rather bigger than the usual fish and dolphins that inhabit Milford Sound... he uttered a little "Whoah...!" at the time, but Emma didn't notice. Later on (sensibly), he told us the 'thing' he'd seen must've been at least 8-10ft long. Therefore, it was probably a fish, but one of the biggest of the species - namely a shark! Emma was very grateful (as was John) that Jason hadn't mentioned it at the time - she would probably have paddled back to shore as quickly as Popeye after a can of spinach!

After reaching the western shore of the Sound, Emma & Jason stopped off for a loo break, much to John's & my delight! There was very little cover for poor Emma, but in the end we gallantly looked in the other direction... Once they'd safely returned to their kayak, we slowly paddled back out and shared a cup of hot drink and ate some of our pre-prepared sandwiches. Due to the cold and rain, no doubt, these might well have been the tastiest sarnies we'd ever eaten!

It was shortly after that point I noticed the mist had lifted a little. More & more of the higher points of the surrounding mountains became visible from that moment on, which made for a magical scene. About an hour before we returned to kayak 'HQ', we stopped to do several slow 360s and admire, amongst many things; the views all about us; the amount of snow on the peaks; the slight change in reflections at water-level; the increasing glare from the snow up on high; the reduction of the wind, etc, etc. I really can't adequately put into words exactly how I felt for those magical 20 minutes or so. So I won't! The pictures, which will only give you a glimpse into the atmosphere that day, can be found in Gallery 7.

Once we'd hauled the kayaks out of the water a little later, I felt a real sense of both overwhelming joy and a little sadness. Joy for the experience we'd just shared and sadness, of course, for it having ended. Emma & John were, I reckon, a little cold at that point to have felt the same and proceeded to cuddle up once they'd stripped off the [hired] clothes and re-dressed into their own. Bless 'em! Jason then whisked us back to the Lodge, where a hot shower, some coffee and food soon restored us to full working order.

Most people back at the Lodge (guests mainly), thought we were bonkers to have been out kayaking in that kind of weather. You could tell, just by looking at them, activities more strenuous than lifting a pint glass or coffee mug were beyond them that day (and perhaps all others?). Although we probably were a little 'mental' to go out on the Sound in those conditions, the experience we've taken away from it will last forevermore.

That night, at the pub, Jason strolled in and immediately joined us. We'd made another friend that day (Lynnanne was now a certified buddy too) and the four of us enjoyed a great evening, playing pool (Jason & I are tied at 1 game each!), chatting about our kayak experience and anything else that came to mind. Great times, in the most spectacular part of an even greater country.


On checking-in at reception early the next day, we were informed the Milford Road was still closed (no surprise, really). As before, we were not bothered, but a few of the other guests were starting to show the first signs of panic. One family, from Holland, were due to return their campervan to Christchurch in less than a weeks' time. They had only budgeted for one nights' stay in Milford and were now seriously worried about ever getting out! According to some locals, the longest road closure in recent memory was 14 days! They had to get helicopters to drop in supplies - food came second, amazingly, behind beer for the bar!!

The weather was, however, now starting to clear and before long the sound of aeroplanes and helicopters could be heard above the nearby waterfalls (most of which dry up, amazingly, about 8-12 hours after the rain stops falling!). Flights were allowed in, but still no cars/vehicles. The boats were also back in action, so taking this as our cue, the three of us made our way down to the small harbour at the end of the village. When we strolled in to the booking office to catch the 13:30 'Red Boat Cruises' vessel, our watches read between 13:15 & 13:20.

The lady at the counter greeted us politely, but said she needed to check whether the boat had "...dropped its lines yet". Soon after, another lass came up to the desk and said, pretty bluntly, that "The boat is leaving, so you can't board now." When we pointed to our watches, she then told us that their clock "...quite clearly showed a time of 13:31". Fair enough, we thought, our watches were a little bit off kilter. There was, however, no need for her obvious lack of manners and she proceeded to bleat on for another few minutes. Emma was looking murderous by that point, so I quickly marched her & John through the doors and back outside.

We calmed down by strolling up to the end of the jetty, admiring both the collection of boats moored closeby and also the spectacular view down the Sound - one no longer obscured by low-lying mist. Wow... Nick, my good friend in South Wales, sent me a text message shortly after he had seen the same sight back in 2002. At that moment, his comments (& later postcard musings) came flooding back to me. You could also see why it was such big business - no matter how you promote something like Milford Sound, the overriding attraction for ALL visitors must surely be the outstanding natural beauty on display.

After milling about for a little while, taking in the blue-sky version of our previous views down the Sound, we made for the tiny Milford 'airport'. There, we tried - in vain - to get a scenic flight on one of the various planes flying in & out of the area. Oh well, it would've been magical, but to be honest, not as unique as our kayaking experience.

That night, we were joined at the bar by Jason, Lynnanne and a variety of rather colourful characters. One of these, in particular, stood out - Max, who turned out to be a captain with Real Journeys, the huge tour operation who take people on trips all over New Zealand. He was, sadly, a serial alcoholic and kept nicking beer from our long 'giraffe-necked' beer thingymajigs. His partner in crime, who must've been a Shemale, also pestered us throughout the night for more liquid refreshment...

One comical moment came late that night, when 'Maxy' sidled up to Emma, pointed at me and spoke the immortal words: "Is that your jealous boyfriend over there?!". Emma did all she could not to cry with laughter in the face of such brazen, misguided cheek. As she said later, if it had been Sean Bean and not a fifty-something, pervy drunken muppet asking the question, she might have answered in the affirmative! We were later told by Jason, that Real Journies once had to send a rescue boat out on to the Sound, as 'Maxy' had fallen asleep at the helm! The boat was apparently found doing a rather large version of 'the doughnut'...

At one point in the evening, Lynnanne pulled me outside, along with Emma, Jason & Johnny Boy. She then pointed out to the Sound and a view that is still almost unequalled in its brilliance. The clouds were all but gone from the sky and a million-and-one stars were out in all their glory - as was an almost-full moon. The scene they'd illuminated for us was like something out of fairy tales or Hollywood fables. Mitre Peak, with its pointed snow-capped crest, was lit up like a beacon. As were all the vast chunks of granite and rock all about it. We stood there, gob-smacked, for what seemed like eternity. Sadly, we had no cameras on us to record the moment, but they wouldn't have done it any justice whatsoever.


My Milford Sound - the experience was everything I'd ever dreamed of and SO much more...


Update #3 (15th - 16th July)

After sorting out our dorm room and packing everything into H, we went to reception to say our farewells to the staff - our new friends! Lynnanne, Tara, Rich & Jason were all there, which was good. They were very sad to see us go and, as they explained, most guests stay a maximum of 2 days - so it was good to get to know the three of us over our 4-5 day stay. In addition, John, Emma & I all left Milford with a small token of both creativity and friendship - Lynnanne has a sideline in jewellery making and we each bought a necklace from her. I bought a lovely bone/ceramic one for Emma, Lynnanne made one for me out of my Tiger shark tooth (!) and then did the same for John, who had a kind-of Celtic-design pendant (which Lynnanne had given him previously).

We all felt quite sad on leaving the Lodge, but will always be able to look back on our time there with nothing but good memories. In fact, as I have a 23-month NZ Working Visa, it is very tempting to head back there to work...

The Milford Road was as stunning on our way out as it had been on the way in. Even more so, in fact, mainly due to the clear blue skies and snow that'd fallen whilst we were 'trapped' in Milford. On the steep section leading up to the Homer Tunnel, we noticed an awful lot of compacted snow, which had been ploughed off the road after falling as avalanches. So, the road closure had been done due to genuine safety fears, after all.

We passed through the same wonderful areas as before, but this time stopped at the Mirror Lakes to soak in the views. They are ultra-clear, small lakes, which reflect the distant & nearby mountains perfectly. After taking lots of pictures there, we moved on once again and eventually returned to Te Anau. By this time, we'd already made the decision to head for the second famous 'Sound' in the Fiordland National Park - Doubtful Sound.

This meant a 20km drive south, to the small town of Manapouri, which borders a lake of the same name. Once there, we found the tour company we'd been advised to use (much, much smaller than the huge Real Journeys operation & therefore more personal). $130 each later - their winter rate - we headed back into town to find a place to stay. In the end, we settled on a small, family-owned campsite that had a small cabin for John.

When John & I checked-in, Emma's face was comical to behold. The lady who appeared to help us (we had to ring a bell to get her attention), looked like an extra from Michael Jackson's Thriller, bless her! Then, to make matters worse, her husband appeared a moment later, holding, you guessed it, a large chainsaw!! HAHAHAA!! No wonder Emma & John had the immediate heebie-jeebies! They really are wimps, the pair of 'em...

After settling in to our cabin/tent site, we wandered about to investigate the campsite. On further inspection, we found a fantastic games room, which contained a load of old-school arcade machines! There were also a whole host of old Morris Minors, which, we were told, were all pet projects of the lady's son. Both my mother and Emma's Aunt used to drive Moggys, so we were all smiles at the memories. Towards the back of the campsite, we stumbled (literally) across what appeared to be an 'adventure playground'. However, this proved to be incorrect - it was, in fact, a bomb shelter! Cue duelling banjos, redneck-driven pickup trucks and much, much more!!

You'll all be pleased to know our good humour has stayed intact - we named the campsite 'The Manapouri Chainsaw Massacre' and still refer to it as that to this day!

Before the sun set on our day, I strolled down to the shore of the lake to snap some shots. This gave me a glimpse of what was to prove the most beautiful lake I'd ever seen - anywhere.


The day dawned incredibly misty and we were soon off down the road to take our Doubtful Sound tour. On arrival at the office, we met our skipper for the day - Steve. Like most South Islanders, he was instantly likeable and had a very easy-going humourous nature. He proved to be an excellent host throughout the day.

Once the other guests had arrived (on the shuttle bus from Te Anau), we all walked down to the jetty and boarded the first boat of the day. Steve then gave us the standard safety run-down, before heading out of the small harbour. The mist was still low-lying and made for an amazing atmosphere. John & I stepped outside to watch the mist-shrouded landscape, which gradually became more visible as we moved further west along Lake Manapouri. Eventually, the sun made its presence felt and made for a simply incredible scene all around us. Special, very special.

One of the many interesting aspects of this tour was our first stop-off point - Manapouri Power Station. Owned & operated by Meridian Energy, the scale of the project isn't visible at first. Sure, you might be impressed by the size of the pylon infrastructure and length of the power cables that cross the lake (2km!). However, we were lucky enough to be taken into the depths of the earth to see, at first hand, what all the fuss was about...

Many years ago, a proposal to raise the level of Lake Manapouri by 30m was met with horror by most New Zealanders. After much political wrangling and demonstrative arguing, the final result was the hydroelectric power station you can see there today. In essence, the engineers took advantage of the near-200m difference in height between the lake and Deep Cove, which sits on the edge of Doubtful Sound (down at sea level). The main turbines and generators are therefore found 200m underground! Access to this part of the power station is by road and this winds down into the mountains for almost 2km. Steve took us there in a coach and you could really sense the change in atmospheric conditions as we circled round & down - water was dripping everywhere and the temperature must've dropped at least 10 degrees C (or so it felt at the time).

We were met at the bottom of the road by a nice lady, who works for Meridian Energy. She then proceeded to take us into the 'power room' and answered any questions we had. Me being me, I managed to collar her for about 5 minutes and bombarded her with about a hundred questions! She was very knowledgeable (& patient!), of course, and we had a really good chat. Everyone seemed to enjoy this small, 20-minute detour and we were soon bundled back on to the coach then taken up to the surface again!

Once there, we then drove down a steep & winding road to Deep Cove. En-route, we stopped off at a lookout point (Wilmot Pass) to get our first view of Doubtful Sound itself. Wow... You could immediately sense the difference in size when compared to Milford - it was vast, simply enormous. Without further ado, Steve drove us down the remainder of the road and asked us to wait whilst he zoomed off to get the second (& larger) boat of the day ready. The three of us took the opportunity to wander about and we soon found a lovely, small waterfall to look at. Already, we were struck by how quiet it was down there.

Once we'd all boarded the new boat, Steve soon whisked us off in a westerly direction, into the Sound. Goodness, gracious me... What an incredible, beautiful, wonderful, mindblowing place - four words that we use from time to time to express utter delight (& incomprehension), but words that can't even come close to doing Doubtful Sound any justice. There was simply too much for the eyes to take in, it was so vast and wonderful out there.

We continued down the Sound for about an hour, but still hadn't made it 3/4 of the way along its length (3 times that of Milford and 10 times its total area). A little later, we reached the point where the Sound meets the sea. This was perhaps my favourite part of the day; the way the sun illuminated the spray from the multitude of waves crashing against the shoreline; the NZ fur seals basking on rocks; flocks of gulls circling overhead, calling out to each other in their plaintive way; just the light in general. It was so special at that moment, I was, in fact, moved to tears. You can probably count on one hand how often that has happened to you, so I can only hope you all know how I felt that day.

On the way back into the main body of the Sound, Steve brought the boat to a halt and then asked everyone to be as quiet as possible. Earlier on, we'd had a chat about Doubtful and I told him I'd heard how silent it is out there. So, when he came out to the back viewing area, he walked up to me and whispered: "Is that quiet enough for ya, mate?!". I simply smiled back at him and nodded in the affirmative. It was, after all, the most perfect silence I'd ever had the pleasure to witness. Even the water (as John pointed out) seemed to lap silently against the hull, making not a single sound. Wonderful.

A little further downstream, we banked right into a 'small' arm of the fiord. This displayed the same impossibly high/steep-walled view as the rest of the Sound, but on a tighter scale. There were waterfalls everywhere, due to the recent high rainfall in the area and these added to the overall atmosphere. When we stopped for a while in this area, Steve told us how lucky we were - Doubtful Sound sees only a handful of clear, bright days in a year. The average rainfall, per annum, in the Fiordland area is about 7,000mm. Yes, that's SEVEN METRES. Per year. Bonkers, isn't it?

Next up was perhaps Emma's highlight of the day. An encounter with one of Doubtful's resident pods of dolphins! They were bottlenoses, which are normally quite active little critters. Unfortunately, the majority of the pod we saw were in a sleeping pattern, so were very subdued. However, the two-three dolphins on 'guard duty' swam over to give us a closer look, much to our delight! You have to love dolphins, you really do.

We were then taken right up to the southern shore, where one of the many waterfalls was cascading into the Sound. Steve said we should grab a cup and try to fill it up with the water. Typically, I managed to get soaked in the process, but the purity of the water more than made up for that! If only all drinking water tasted like 'Doubtful Spring'!

Just before we returned to the jetty at Deep Cove, I noticed another distinct change in the light around us. The sun was making its way down and this created shadows on the fiord's mountainous sides, all of which added to the greatness of the views laid before us. John & I were in a constant state of 'Japanese Mode' with our cameras at this point. Sometimes, not even 512MB is enough space and my memory card was soon full. Not to worry, we later swapped images and made a now-legendary 'Doubtful Disk'!

The drive back to the power station jetty was, for the most part, completed in silence. Everyone was still in awe of what they'd seen that day and seemed happy to sit in quiet contemplation. Even Steve, ever keen to chat, held his tongue. Who can blame any of us? Doubtful Sound was - and still is - the greatest thing I have ever clapped my eyes on. Nature has many magic tricks up her sleeve, but none can surely match the marvels to be found in the south west of New Zealand.

The journey back across Lake Manapouri was spent outside once again. John & I were the only people mad enough to brave the ice-cold air for the entirety, but it was more than worth it. The sun was setting and the sky & water were illuminated by the multi-coloured hues just for our benefit, or so it seemed at the time! It has to be the most beautiful lake in New Zealand and I should know - I've seen 90% of them now!

On arrival back at the harbour, a few of us had to be half-dragged off the jetty. We were trying to capture the incredible sunset on our cameras and also thanking Steve profusely for his excellence. Top sky, top man, top day!

After the heebie-jeebies experienced at 'Manapouri Chainsaw Massacre' the night before, we decided to head back into Te Anau for our last nights' stay in Fiordland (once again heading to the holiday park we'd stayed at a week before). After chatting about our amazing week for a few hours and playing some Yahtzee, we retired to our respective beds and slept the sleep of the dead.


If you are lucky enough to visit anywhere in New Zealand, you HAVE to go to Fiordland. Milford & Doubtful Sounds are unrivalled for natural beauty and deserve to sit at the top of any 'Top 10' lists for travelling/touring in this great country. I just hope my words & images give you even the slightest idea of how special these places are.