With my friend newly returned from his travels to the mysterious Far East, we decided it was well past time to start exploring again. Originally, we’d hoped to get back to Mt Aspiring (a strong contender fro my favourite place on Earth), but ultimately it was too far to drive for just a weekend, and we opted for Te Anau instead (in Fiordland). Also, a couple of my new found French friends were heading in that direction so it was mutually beneficial; they got a ride, I got company.
Once there, Tom and myself did our own thing, whilst Sophie and Claire caught up with a DOC Ranger friend who more or less hooked them up with one of the staff huts on the Milford Track (if only I were a girl and could make such connections so easily).
Anyway, this post is a lot more photographic than literary; mostly since I’m feeling tired and this just isn’t coming out right. Tom is “off the grid,” and has requested that no images be posted of him, so you’ll just have to deal with that; he’s determined to remove his digital footprint entirely. The guy only carries cash. It kills me.
After several hours, we decided we were just too hardcore to stay on the track, and headed bush. We found a secluded river valley and set up camp, following which we napped for several hours. Hardcore indeed. Also, nearly burnt the forest down when the towel (I was using to pick up my can of spaghetti) caught fire. I didn’t even get any spaghetti. I cry errytime.
Since there’s just way too many photos to post here, I’ll wind it up; might post some more sporadically. I will say one thing; there really is such thing is a “fresh air high.” Just escaping Dunedin lifted me to another level. I felt liberated. This place just isn’t me as much as I try. It’s difficult.
Thanks for stopping by.