Enamoured of NZ

“What’s my gift,” I questioned in an oleaginous way knowing well it hasn’t been a customary to exchange any for our anniversaries, but what could go wrong gauging your spouse’s thoughts.

“Diamonds,” he spluttered; as if, I thought!

“When did you last buy me one?” I queried, seemingly unruffled - an art mastered in over two decades of partnership.

He scrunched up his left eye and squinted his right guessing desperately, “Michael Hills? But don’t test me with the year,” he solemnly surrendered.

“What’s the use though, you don’t put any on,” his eyes danced at the excuse for escaping!

“Why settle for one? Give me a field!” I uttered unctuously. 

“What exactly are you after, spit it out,” his confounded eyebrows were in a frown, bracing up for the impending proposal.

I snatched the moment to rummage through 68 open tabs in Chrome fishing out the Viator website on glacier walking - a wild whim I’ve been  secretly nurturing for a while. 

An expected ‘you must be bonkers’, was followed by a tad bit of my fawning, and finally convincing my spouse-cum-planner of the worth I saw in it.

Rolling forward four months from booking, preparing, shopping - a lot, since every moment should be a frame for lifetime - we finally landed on the Queenstown airstrip, enfolded by picturesque hills cloaked in scudding clouds, on 20th June afternoon. I would’ve crowned it to be the loveliest airport if it weren’t drizzling and if the weather forecast during our short stay weren’t pouring our dreams of glacier walking down the drain. My countenance didn’t attempt to conceal the unreasonable dismay around the forecast that we had no control on, especially months back, and of a place that’s infamous for largely unpredictable and shifting alpine weather.

Calm your farm mamma, my son’s endeavour to pacify me met my incensed gaze.

With a heavy heart though, we checked in, changed to pre-planned coordinated attires for the afternoon, and readied our waterproof wears to take the rain on - destination Glenorchy.

The much photographed shed of New Zealand by its longest lake, Wakatipu, couldn’t have escaped our lenses, could it? Traversing the road that loyally laced the lakes’s bank, we reached the fabled shed by 4.30 pm - most of the delay could be safely attributed to photographing the incredibly dreamy alpine range fiercely and uninterruptedly guarding the other bank of the cold clear lake. If the journey was beyond beautiful, the destination simply blew our mind away! Our camera shutters didn’t rest for the next hour and my mood swung from crestfallen to joyous as I grabbed all the visual treasures I could with alacrity - rain paused to honour our zeal. Whatever you click here would be deemed picture postcard. 

My son wouldn’t return without a hint of adventure. We were fortunate he compelled us to take a remote route to Lothlorien (Paradise); we sadly missed Isengard narrowly (lack of research). Nevertheless, the feel of our first-read (read first love, Lord of the Rings, was everywhere - crystal clear water, loosely scattered pebbles, scenic mountains. Pages of the tome were a reality! Dusk was setting quickly and we decided to call it a day; we fly to glacier or not, we got to report for 7.15 am pick-up next day. 

I’m posting the day’s pictures, speaking profusely of the place!

Day 2: The alarm jerked us off the cosy comforters at 5 am and each of us put on several layers of warm wear - our chainmail against piercing glacial chill. The positive side of unpredictability is a favourable change - our hopes rose as the clouds over Queenstown gave way to a crisp clear morning. It brought a fresh bounce to our gait as we hopped on to the True South’s pick-up van. At the office, the staff briefed us on our day with a caveat that we were at the mercy of Mt Cook. Signing a deal of paying for the scenic flight to heli-hike spot in case the glacier walk gets cancelled, we waited for the pilot - fingers crossed. Consternation was climactic as the pilot walked in shortly. Is it a yes or a no! And bam! She apologised for the unfavourable local weather at Mt Cook - the dread and dismay of a shared dream shuttered would be indelibly etched in our minds forever. The sole reason of the trip getting ruined upended everything in a moment!

Disgruntled, we walked out with an offer of a possible rescheduling 48 hours later if they could arrange for a larger scenic flight accommodating 12 passengers. But that day was booked for us with another widely acclaimed trip - Milford Sounds. We lingered for a while in predicament - if we cancel Milford Sounds for glacier walk, we run into a risk of missing both on the occasion of adverse weather in the glaciers. 

“We’ve done everything we could,” said my spouse helplessly.

No, we didn’t, I contained my terse reply.

“Ma’s grumpy again,” my son chuckled but expressed he was down for the risk and would gladly give glacier walk another go. 

A couple of calls later, we had cancelled Milford Sounds, consented for glacier walk rescheduling, and decided to follow Plan B for the day - drive to Wanaka, Pukaki, Tekapo. It was a gruelling 12-hour return drive replete with astounding views and some crucial decision makings.

The serpentine Cardrona Valley Road branched out of State Highway 6 and wound up to Crown Range Viewing Point that unlocked a sweeping view of snow-powdered mountains, valleys, and villages. We sped past interlocking hills covered with tufts of grass, brown in the harsh frosty nights yet magical in the slanting morning sun rays. About an hour’s drive brought us to the banks of another fantastic lake, Wanaka. The lake, though as beautiful as any in NZ, wouldn’t have been a reason to stop by if the Wanaka Tree, another insta star, didn’t lend it a character. An artist’s soulful work would be a befitting description of what unfolded before our eyes. Life is indeed a miracle - the tree underscores it. I wondered if I could ever visit the precious solitary soul at its best in autumn!

With a panoply of unmissable spots on the list for the day, we hastily wrapped up our break and headed for Lake Pukaki through the extremely photogenic Lindis Pass and Lindis Valley - the surrounding landscape was carefully crumpled greenish brownish paper whose every crack and ridges were limned, lined, and highlighted with delicate sun rays. Briefly pausing at a lookout for photographs, we continued towards Omarama. Picturesque mountain ranges hardly left us alone! Refuelling our car at Omarama, we followed State Highway 8 through the tiny town of Twizel to the southern end of the serene Lake Pukaki! It was impossible to fathom and admire its expanse from there - that realisation would gradually unfurl later in the day; for then, it was the best lunch break spot we ever had! 

Here, we also took a crucial decision to book Milford Sounds trip next day. Unsure if any was available, son and dad frantically pounded through various sites and snagged 3 last-moment spots with Altitude! Thanks to their foreseeability - at least one trip was secured and sealed! I wasn’t quite hell bent for that 12-hour journey in winter, but I eventually lent in to their verve!

Soaking in all the shades of blues the lake proffered, we started for the Lake Tekapo, highly disregarding dad-son duo’s proposal of the route 80 to Mt Cook - I am unduly obdurate at times; I got to go till Lake Tekapo, and so we did!

Beauty becomes usual at this point and difficult to appreciate if the road trip is this long. We didn’t  have sufficient time to put up in a lodge at Tekapo but resting there would’ve brought out the beauty of the place even more. Stone walled The Church of a the Good Shepherd sat meditatively by the pristine lake in the lap of mountains. Clouds clung to them cooking a mystic charm. A white arched bridge over Tekapo River at its mouth to the lake added the ultimate element for the spot’s popularity in insta!

Dabbling our feet in the bone-chilling waters, we decided in unison that 3 pm was sufficiently late to start for 3.5-hour hotel-wards journey.

50 minutes later we arrived at the juncture where route 80 (Mount Cook Road) branches out of State Highway 8 and hits Mt Cook region, hugging the entire 60 Km of Lake Pukaki faithfully. It was tempting to skip this entirely - after all, I traded this for Tekapo and we were tuckered out to accommodate an additional two hours to the remaining two hours drive to hotel. Yet, curiosity, or rather FOMO, got the better of us - we deliberated and concluded checking the Lake Pukaki Lookout to satiate our thirst. The sliver of the peak was probably deriding our plan - it wasn’t long before the tip of the tiara melted our vestigial resolve to head back to the hotel. Mount Cook Road was ethereal - every bend luring us to the enigmatic majesty. 

Driving past Mount Cook Aerodrome and Rasman Valley Road reignited my frustration of scenic flight and heli-hike cancellation.

“It’s pretty clear here, why didn’t they fly today?” My annoyance and inability of getting past the glacier walk fiasco was overt. “Their risk appetite must be pea sized,” I scoffed.

“They know what they are doing mamma!”

“Sure they do, but that’s not helping me.”

“Enjoy this moment and leave the rest to destiny,” my spouse was philosophical.

I followed and the captures tell the tale of the paradise that awaited at the end of Hooker Valley Road. 

Blue Lakes and Tasman Glacier Walk and Hooker Valley Track in the region are a must-do but they were off our cards this time - consigned till we plan another trip.

Slaked, we steered hotel-wards. Tedium was broken by Lake Pukaki that had turned pink in twilight, a welcoming piping hot coffee at Omarama to charge up the fatigued driver, and a peek into the astronomical Milky Way in the ink dark Lindis Pass.

Day 3: I reluctantly slid off the bed at 5.45 am; my spouse was waiting impatiently for us to freshen up with steaming tea and bread for breakfast at the table. Donning our Macpac jackets, we gathered at the frosty pick-up point. A Mercedes van pulled up soon and we started immediately for the widely regarded Milford Sounds. Our first break for delectable hot-pies and coffee was by Te Anau - 2-hour drive from Queenstown along and past Wakatipu. Malav , the driver and guide, shared interesting facts all along, but the landscape was constant - frost bitten valleys with sporadic grazing patches packed with loveable white rotund sheep. The sun was fighting the fog hard but couldn’t beat it until at least Te Anau.

From Te Anau, the dramatic route till Milford regaled us with a string of luminous spots - each gloating with a distinctive beauty of its own.

Eglington Valley, Mirror Lakes, Gunn Lake, gushing waterfalls, bubbling streams, a 1.2 Km dark raw tunnel through the bowels of scree and snow powdered towering mountains that loomed like unassailable walls, cheeky keas - all looked straight out of movies and truly so as the likes of LOTR, Heart of the Beast, Mission Impossible, Wolverine were shot in this region. 

For once the journey outstreaked the destination - Milford Sounds cruise to the end of the fiord. An occasional waterfall or a seal flapping its tail leisurely did draw the crowd’s wow, but for us it didn’t stand its ground before Tasmania’s Port Arthur cruise. 

Most of our 4-hour return leg was well utilised napping while the headlights of the Mercedes van impaled thick darkness settled on Route 94 and State Highway 6 to find its way to Queenstown.

Day 4: Mt Cook didn’t deign to unveil its bewitching beauty 48 hours back, would it condescend to embrace us today? The question burnt like a silent conflagration as we all put on thermals, sweaters, ski jackets and hopped on to True South’s pick-up van. Completing the familiar formalities, we waited for the pilot - appearing calm as breeze on the outside while trepidation soared inside. Our fate for the day was in the hands of mercurial weather. A sharp pilot, Michael, walked in and our hearts stopped, lest we miss his words. He smiled and voila, it was a GO. Leading us to the scenic flight in the adjacent air strip, he explained the wind was pushing the clouds down from the mountains making way for us. For one hour the flight glided over jaw-dropping landscapes of lakes, interlocking snow garbed mountains, and labyrinthine rivers cutting through valleys. After it landed on the airstrip of Mount Cook Ski planes and Helicopters encapsulated by mountains, we stood for sometime, enraptured. The pilot hurried us to the nearby office where we changed to their shoes and socks. A briefing on safety was followed by safe boarding into the helicopters for a 7-minute heli-hike. The helicopter whizzed over the Tasman Lake and landed in the middle of the awe-inspiring 23 Km long and 4 Km wide Tasman glacier - a dream come true moment. A guide on the ground assisted us with crampons and led us through glacial features explaining crevasses, moulins, caves for two hours. I was declared a VIP, sweetest sarcasm ever, as I needed an extra push negotiating the frictionless hardened blue ice. Stomping and digging the crampons to the ice for every step while managing phone, glove, and walking pole was no mean feat. Needless to mention though, our exhilaration was at zenith as we made the most of the effulgent field of diamonds! Helicopter appeared to have arrived sooner bringing our coveted expedition to an end. It flew us up close to Mount Cook and I whispered my tributes to it. From the helipad, Michael collected us for the return scenic flight to Queenstown. By 2.30 pm, the van dropped us at our hotel. Exhausted from the strenuous walk on the glacier, we hit the hay and woke up only for warm daal-roti dinner at the tony Bombay Palace that we had been haunting since we landed here. 

Day 5: Checking out at 10 am we squeezed in a walk to Queenstown through Queenstown Gardens, a warm drink with exotic chocolates at the notable Patagonia, and a quick touch of AJ Hackett Bungy Centre over Kuwarau River before topping up the fuel and dropping the rental car keys in a haste at the airport. 

Rain sprinkled the little flight windows but the plane soon ascended above sun dappled fluffy clouds. We rested up well during the 3-hour flight across Tasman Sea.

Travelling with a pinch of adventure continues to be our joie de vivre, enriching us significantly with every tour. This trip was on steroids, but fulfilling. With a hope of returning to explore all that we skipped this time, we closed the covers of this first jaunt to NZ.

Dona, Sydney, June ‘26