Day 3 THE Challenge

Off we went for our first overnight hike, which thankfully didn't mean we were actually hiking overnight, but it did mean adding bed rolls, food and cooking utensils to our packs. Provisions split between the group we arrived at Borland Saddle where we had to split into two groups to minimise visual pollution. Two points to make about this 'rule', firstly we didn't see another human for at least 24hours and secondly, in my hiking gear I could visually pollute the place walking on my own.

Team Pavol, of which I was in, brought up the rear. Carefully maintaining a gap of 50metres to the next group, well kind of. It was tough going and mainly up hill, but the views were at this point worth the effort. The details are pretty sketchy as I have since tried to block this day out of my life. After a few hours, with knees and ankles already groaning, we reached the tussocks. Dictionary definition: A tuft or clump of green grass or similar verdure, forming a small hillock. Sounds pleasant enough? Not really, ranging between hip and shoulder height, and ensuring you had no idea where you were putting your feet, and with not even a hint of a path, it was hard work with a few spills.

Some time later, finally out of the tussocks the fatigue was starting to show. The final part of the journey would have us take a wooded track back down to Green Lake where we would find our hut. What followed was climbing, jumping, clambering, slipping and sliding; over tree stumps, across streams..... up and bloody down for what seemed like hours.

I was finding it tough. Exhausted, my legs took on the demeanour of a newly born Bambi that had just undergone an extremely traumatic birth. I was moved to the front of the group behind teacher, where Bambi rapidly turned into Elvis, with legs a-shaking all the way back to camp. Well and truly shattered it would take some days for my thighs to forgive me.

The definition of a hike for me had now forever been revised.

Walk = Not far, probably just to the car or the corner shop, quite slow, no previous experience or equipment required.

Hike = Buy all the relevant gear: boots, waterproofs, zip off trousers (a must), then drive to somewhere nice on a sunny day. Walk (see above)slowly and relatively flatly, with perhaps a stile or two, for a few hours until you find the first hostelry where beer, pie and chips are consumed. Then a little walk later maybe some kind of pudding or a cream tea. Your legs feel like they've left the house for a bit but after a nice hot bath and a cuppa normal service is resumed.

*New Zealand Hike = Something reminiscent of an Indiana Jones movie, objective is to seriously maim one of the group or if very successful achieve some kind of gory death which involves being impaled on a walking pole or perhaps a cliff fall. Nothing short of air ambulance presence is deemed a true success.

The course description says: Terrain mostly tracks. Some slippery rough or uneven track surfaces and river crossings. Some off track hiking.....no previous hiking experience necessary. See, see, much more like my definition!

The hut was a welcome sight, we had dinner and played games, and watched a tremendous sunset over Green Lake. I was happy again....well until I realised that I was on washing up duty. The sink was outside and I was wearing flip flops to soothe my rapidly recovering feet. Looking back, I think I can hear the sand flies laughing as they flew in and devoured said feet. These particular ones, not getting many human visitors were the most persistent of the tour and seemed quite disgruntled that they hadn't been born as piranhas.

Long drop update: Much cleaner but unfortunately quite potent with a stench that permeated your clothes which created a lovely atmosphere back in the hut, particularly as this was to be the first truly communal sleepover with us all side by side on mattresses on a long bunk.

I was only now starting to get used to the mummifying effect of first getting into the sleeping bag liner followed by the sleeping bag itself. Being near one end, I prayed that I didn't roll off the mattress in my sleep and create some kind of domino effect crushing everyone on my level against the wall....after all we still had to carry all the equipment back out again....didn't want to add casualties to the backpack load. Thankfully I slept well, exhaustion does that for you, and woke to no sign of visible sleep carnage.

*Kaz if you're reading, I'm kidding. With the benefit of that lovely old thing called hindsight, this was a fantastic hike and I'm so pleased that I completed it (with your help). I am exaggerating for comedic value. Honest.

Day 2 - Water works

Up early, ie, in the dark after a restless night. Kaz said that breakfast would be waiting for us in the van so that we could get away early. An interesting concept. It was a beautiful sunny morning as we drove though to pick up our kayaks which we would paddle around Milford Sound.

They were double kayaks and with Marion in the back steering and me in the front we set off. It was absolutely stunning. We happened upon what would turn out to be the most photographed seal in the country once we had finished with it, whilst the Kayak instructor filled us in on NZ history ..... which didn't take that long.

For the other members of the group, this was a lovely scenic paddle taking pictures and generally enjoying the view. Not so for Marion and I (AKA team GB). Every now and then we would break into Olympic mode and try and take on team Slovakia and team Russia (who were simply enjoying a lovely paddle). Disappointingly we were only moderately successful in our sprints against competitors who had no idea they were actually in a race. This was down to Marion's erratic steering and me stopping to take pictures mid sprint. In fact, we were sadly even beaten back to base by the hybrid German / Australia team even though one of the 'team' was suffering from travel sickness.

Another drive followed to the campsite, real 'tints' this time on the banks of Lake Monowai where we arrived early evening. This was our first introduction to a long drop, and I can't quite bring myself to describe this one, but I can occasionally still smell it.

Our two man tent was up and it was time for kit inspection. Yes, you read correctly. The following day we were to commence our first overnight hike and it was important that we had all the essentials like thermals, water bottle, waterproofs, hat, torch, sunscreen, cuddly toy. You get the picture. We passed. I was a hiker.

After dinner for the first time we spoke the true global language. That language was alcohol. I slept much more soundly that night.

The Secret South Tour - Day 1 (Sunday 7th March)

An early start and off to the Queenstown Visitor Centre where our tour would commence. We arrived about ten minutes late (I can't abide lateness ... in other people). As the last arrival, we were introduced to the group:

Kaz our Kiwi tour leader.
Pavol and Magdalena, honeymooners from Slovakia living in Frankfurt.
Igor and Andi from Germany (not together).
Sarah, a student from South Africa who will shortly be commencing studies in London Town.
Andrey and Yulia, a married couple from Moscow.
Leonie, a Marketer from Perth.

All together a lovely mix of ages, professions and cultures ...... how the hell would that work?

Our first challenge came about quickly. Food shopping. Imagine a game of supermarket sweep with the added challenge of language and cultural differences. Kaz gave out instructions and we wandered around trying to decipher Kiwi brands, and what on earth was a kumara? The beauty of it was, we would only really know what was missing / misinterpreted once we went to prepare lunch or dinner. Time would tell.

Once back in the minibus, roles were assigned. Yes roles. We had paid for a holiday that we actually had to do group chores on. Of course we had read the terms and conditions, but the important information was surely about the route and what to take with us wasn't it?

Banker was first up. The all important holder of the kitty. Oh, didn't I mention? The holiday that we'd paid for that included chores didn't include food or accommodation. Go figure. This role was too close to home for me and thankfully Sarah volunteered.

Next up, roster person. Quick thinking led me to believe that this could well involve ordering people around, it had to be mine. My hand was up before Kaz had finished the sentence. Getting in early paid off as the roles gradually got worse; water person, van cleaner, boot person, chilly bin person, rubbish person and of course the highly coveted poop person. This involved a shovel and hand sanitiser, I'll leave that one with you. By my reckoning, I'd nabbed one of only two white collar positions without them even seeing my CV. It had started well.

From there we headed off to our first hike in Fjordland National Park, taking in the glacial lakes of Te Anau and Manapouri Border, we were headed for Key Summit on the renowned Routeburn track (or so the itinerary said).

A pleasant but trying three hour walk with some uphill, made me a little nervous about what was to come. This may come as a surprise to you, but I'm not at my peak of fitness. It was a hot day, but fortunately, I have a fantastic cooling system, unfortunately all this actually means is that I sweat. A lot. And generally look close to collapse most of the time.

Hike finished and everyone in reasonable form, we drove (there was to be much of this) to Gunns Camp where we would spend our first night. Relief kicked in as although it was a 'camp' we were actually in huts that had a double bedroom and little living area and a further bedroom with a bunk and a single. Now, following that description you could be visualising anything between an Ikea showroom and a four star hotel suite. To clarify, it was basic but clean, and the toilet block wasn't too far away. In its favour mainly was the fact that it wasn't a tent.

The rota that I was in charge of kicked it, badly, with the wrong people doing things but the curry was really very nice, the sand flies seemed to think so too as we ate outside. This was to be my first introduction to them, there were many, many more to come.

It started to get dark and the generator would be turned out at ten. I took up my place in the lower bunk with Marion above and Igor next to me. As the two of them took to their sleep I wondered where the hell I had packed the earplugs.

Adrenaline junkie......turned potterer one more (2-6 March)

After the excitement of the jump, the remaining few days in Queenstown saw me revert back to type, much food, wine, beer and sleep was to be had, but hey, I deserved it didn't I? Marion's body clock was still in an interesting state too so we had a fairly relaxed time.

Cookie returned back at the end of the week to take us to her manor in Cromwell about 60km away, we visited the plot for her new house which was coming along nicely, hubby Craig was working busily away and we got the guided tour, which was fairly interesting as there were no actual walls, but we got the picture.

We had brought wine and beer to toast the new house. Cookie then declared that we should sit on the big dick and drink the wine. Marion and I looked at each other in exactly the same way we had a few years ago, when on returning back to my house one evening, I opened the front door and the cat ran out. It was a confused look that silently and jointly communicated the exact same question 'Have we got a cat?'. The silent and non-silent answer was no. Unfortunately that morning when returning back inside for an umbrella said cat had decided he was going to have a little look around and I'd locked him in. He had made himself more than comfortable in the spare room as I discovered later.

Anyway I digress, back to the big dick. Perhaps this was some kind of NZ ritual where when you build a new house you invite your friends to procreate with the man of the house in order to fill up all the rooms with babies? I knew there was to be a roof 'shout' where the local men come along, help put up the roof frame and are then rewarded with loads of beers. Perhaps this was a similar ritual and Cookie knowing that we may find this a little out of the ordinary, was going to ply us with wine first.... she is from Birmingham after all.

Thankfully the big dick she related to was actually to be a large expanse of decking - a big 'deck'. A combined Brummie / NZ accent is a strange and wonderful thing. This would also explain the confusion at the airport on arrival when the customs gentlemen had asked me if I had a 'tint'. I'd actually dyed my hair hastily that morning and really thought they trained their customs people well over there.

We had a good night out at a cidery and one of the two Cromwell pubs and after coffee the next morning at probably the most scenic coffee house in the world,(see pics) we set off back to Queenstown, taking in Arrowtown and more importantly the Amisfield Winery and Bistro where we had a fantastic 'Trust the chef menu' which consisted of eight courses. It was lovely and there could have been an extra couple of courses as I kept referring to it as the 'Taste the chef' menu. This was not my first faux pas of the holiday as to me, the stunning mountain range in Queenstown was not the Remarkables but the Incredibles - well I still think it works.

Both Queenstown and Cromwell were beautiful and we had a lovely relaxing (post jump) time. There was lots to do in Queenstown and I would like to go back and explore when I'm more awake. And as for Cromwell, I look forward to going back to sit on the big 'dick'.... once it is fully erected.

Peaked too soon

Ok, I admit it. I've been a slack blogger. This is mainly due to the fact that a few days after my last blog I attended an eleven day boot camp and have spent the last few weeks re-introducing myself back to normal society. It's taken a while but initial signs are good. I can now use a normal toilet again, can sleep without sharing a room with eleven others and am no longer wearing a head torch in restaurants or taking walking poles with me wherever I go. So let me take you back in time to a month or so ago.........

A taste of Christchurch (Sunday 28 Feb)

The journey, although long, was pretty uneventful. I started to watch 'The Damned United' when I got on the Emirates flight, first stop Dubai. It would take me a further 14 hours to complete the watching of this film as sleeping sickness took hold virtually 10 minutes in, and until we hit Christchurch my routine was pretty much sleep, eat, watch 15 minutes of the film, sleep...repeat to fade. Marion, who unfortunately didn't get much sleep on the plane did however manage to get some conversation out of me on leg three (Bangkok to Sydney), but this was aided by much wine.

We eventually arrived in Christchurch, which was to be our rest and recovery place for a full day and a half. Hotel SO was very funky (and cheap), but given the size of the rooms and the glass walled bathrooms, should only be shared by close friends.

We spent our time in Christchurch doing what we have become very good at over the years - pottering. This generally consists of coffee, beer/wine, a healthy portion of food every so often, a little bit of walking around - generally in circles - and a snooze (this can take place at any time and once requested by either party must take place immediately). The final pottering ingredient is the purchasing of a fridge magnet. Christchurch was to be no exception (bar the fridge magnet). There was however a magnet substitute - a case. My airport acquisitions, added to the removal of five of the layers of clothing meant that I had added three full carrier bags to my excess baggage.....travelling light was obviously not for me.

Christchurch was nice but lacked the wow factor,(surely I couldn't have missed it in the full 14 hours I was awake could I?) so let's move on shall we......

Are we nearly there yet, are we nearly there yet, are we nearly there yet? (Friday 26 Feb)

After months of planning, ok, not quite planning, but thinking of loads of things I wanted to do and actually booking some of them (thanks Marion), the day had finally come when I was about to embark on the Fitz World Tour 2010.



It had been a whirlwind couple of weeks; trying to leave the job in as good a position as possible for the lovely Rachel, (best way to learn is just throw yourself into it Rachel, and drawer space is a luxury not a necessity), buying lots of last minute completely non-essential and hugely expensive items, and having more leaving drinks than Liz Taylor has had husbands.



I had been overwhelmed by all the gifts, cards and good wishes that I had received, and was starting to think that I hadn't actually asked for a four month sabbatical but rather, there had been a petition to have me deported. Whichever, I know I am a truly lucky girl to have such fantastic friends and family.....but if anyone ever repeats that I'll deny it.



With a couple of hours to go before I was due to leave the house a few thoughts occurred to me. Firstly, no matter how good an idea you think it is to stay out drinking until 3am the night before embarking on a 35 hours door to door journey, it really isn't. Secondly, as shiny and lovely as you think your new rucksack is, it's not much good if it was never going to hold more than four pairs of pants.



Having squeezed another couple of pairs in, I was ready to leave, and surprisingly, only about half an hour off the pace. I stood in the hallway and the enormity of what I was about to embark upon hit home (ok, a bit dramatic, but it was quite a big deal for me!). I was going to be away from home for 10 weeks, the majority of that travelling alone, something I'd never done before.....I broke out into a cold sweat.



The cold sweat rapidly turned into a warm sweat as I'd not booked a cab and had no option but to walk to the station. Rucksack on back for the first time, those first few steps down the road were incredibly empowering as I practically bounded away from the house. Bounding was quickly replaced by panting as the weight of the tiny rucksack took hold, added to the fact that I was wearing about eight layers of clothes, due to restricted space within said rucksack.



The journey to the airport went smoothly having met M (Marion, not a Bond movie character) at London Bridge and after a farewell meal at Cafe Rouge, and picking up my anti-malaria tablets from the airport Boots (see Cathy, it was always under control, in fact under control to the sum of £177! Would probably have been cheaper to get Malaria and let the travel insurance cover it).



We were on our way.