University town-Dunedin

Y llegó el día en que por fin terminaría el estrés del chiwawin de que planificar para mi cumpleaños. Despertamos en Los Catlins, en un camping al lado de la playa listos para emprender nuestro viaje hacia Duniden, donde celebraríamos mi cumpleaños número 31. 

Él chiwawin me había preguntado qué cosa quería yo por mi cumpleaños, y yo le había pedido "Ceviche", (extraño tanto mi comida peruana...) creo que por eso estuvo estresado y ahora luce con menos pelos en la cabeza... De donde me iba a conseguir "ceviche"??? No tuve ceviche, pero si uno de los cumpleaños más consentidos.

Empezamos el día con un rico desayuno y caminata por la playa, después continuamos por toda la Costa hacia Duniden.. En el camino paramos frente al mar, donde hicimos nuestro picnic con quesos, salame, frutos secos, frutas y Sidra. 

On a quiet and sunny Friday afternoon Ian Swinnen was shaving wood for the table his was making when all off a sudden BOOM BOOM CHING CHING the Gypsy Caravan arrived. He kindly offered them to come in and a bed to sleep and before he knew there was pots and pans being moved into the kitchen, clothes being washed and dried, a hammock on his terrace and a kayak waiting for being repaired, the toaster and the coffee pot in overdrive. Silence and peace were gone in the house and all sorts of activities planned upsetting his daily routine. Many days later, waking up and thinking his live had changed forever, a strange calm was over the house, barely any movement, no more clothes, pots, shoes, books, cables and no more campervan. The Gypsy Caravan was gone again.

One of the good reasons to make it to Dunedin was Chiwawins Birthday. After traveling and bravely tackling all outdoor challenges, a hot shower, a warm bed and a good restaurant were definitely deserved. A slow and delicious breakfast digested with a morning beach walk, a gourmet picnic with a glass of cold cider on the Otago Harbour waterfront and a restaurant of a so far untried ethnicity which turned out to be Turkish, made a proper welcome for Belen's 31st year of life. Off course we had to do something special on this travel birthday, and we celebrated with a Turkish water pipe, puffing, bubbling and chatting with Belen and Ian. That we might celebrate many birthdays together traveling.

Llegamos a Duniden, a casa de Ian (primo de Johan) quien nos recibió y alojó cerca de 10 días en los que invadimos su espacio, calma y rutina. Gracias Ian por habernos aguantado tantos días. 

En Duniden fuimos a caminar un poco por la ciudad guiados por Ian, para luego ir a cenar y soplar las velas a un restaurante de comida turca. (Ya que no teníamos ceviche, queria algo que nunca haya probado). La cena estuvo deliciosa..un cordero que se deshacía en la boca... Finalizamos la noche en un bar turco donde probé la Hookah... Que era una especie de tabaco con sabor a Fresa. 

We had a very good time in Dunedin and needless to say we felt at home in Ian's apartment on a Dunedin hill with the most amazing view over the Otago harbor. While as kids we were always in some way logically happening to meet each other, because our parents happened to be brother and sister, it was really great to meet as cousins on the other side of the world because our paths crossed and sensing a strong family bond, feeling to be part of the same big family. Liters of coffee and many conversations about life, our perspectives on life and future and obviously common family memories or part of our parents and grandparents heritage in stories and anecdotes made this a memorable stay. Thank you Ian for having us, good luck in Dunedin and looking forward for a next meet up.

Los siguientes días, los pasamos conociendo la ciudad de Duniden... El campus universitario, distintos museos y jardín chino. Es una ciudad con mucha vida nocturna, bares y restaurantes por todos lados. Es de esas ciudades en las que tienes la sensación de que siempre está pasando algo de lo que puedas disfrutar ... Un día nos topamos con un concurso de bandas musicales Escocesas y una tarde de un sábado estábamos disfrutando de un concierto de jazz gratis en el jardín botánico de Duniden. 

Built along the water, with a strong Scottish heritage and one of the first bases for farming and later gold, Dunedin is now all about the university. We enjoyed the nice atmosphere, restaurants and bars in town, as well as the Victorian and Edwardian architecture which we were 5 years too late for in Christchurch. For me this was a very particular visit as well, because I could "go down memory lane" in my Mums name as she finished her university here and spent a few years living. My dad would always illustrate his youth stories pointing out buildings, walking over university campuses, or cycling through streets and villages, while Mums past, that exited only in tales, anecdotes and a scarce picture, come to live little by little traveling the world.

Duniden, no sólo me gusto por las actividades que hay para hacer en la ciudad sino también por la cantidad de vida silvestre que puedes encontrar. Recorrimos la península de Otago, y paramos en cada playa a caminarla, a descansar y leer un libro, a hacer nuestro picnic... Nos cruzamos con focas, lobos marinos, el lobo marino blanco (es uno de los más raros del mundo), pingüinos bebés de los de la película Happy Feet (Pinguinos de ojos amarillos), albatros y pesca que pudo hacer Johan sacando choros, con los que nos dimos un festín de choros cocidos con salsa tártara.

The Otago Harbour is a wildlife treat, new born yellow eyed penguins, Hooker's Sealions, fur seals and albatross were all on the menu as well as beautiful beaches and peaceful bays. Again we had a big pot of freshly harvested mussels that I will remember for the following reasons; first, never in my life did I eat such a big mussels with the shell bigger and the actual mussel as big as the palm of my hand and second, the mussel collection was interrupted a few times by a big adrenaline rush when a curious seal would swim a meter next to or below me. Where a dolphins curiosity resembles a human a seals curiosity resembles a dog, playful, inquisitive but unpredictable and no sense of mutual understanding.

Una de las cosas que me gustan cuando uno está en modo "viajero" es que estás mucho más abierto e interesado a conocer gente, a aceptar invitaciones y así de pronto un total desconocido después se torna en alguien con el que viviste una experiencia que nunca olvidaras. 

Y así fue como conocimos a Rossie, era nuestra última noche en Duniden y decidimos salir con Johan a tomarnos una última cerveza junto a Ian... Habíamos estado buscando un bar especial para la ocasión pero por la hora, ya estaban cerrados la mayoría, por lo que decidimos ir a un bar chiquito que quedaba a unas cuadras de la casa. Era el estilo de bar que me gusta, chico, no mucha gente, pero gente local... De la zona. Estábamos muy tranquilos disfrutando de una cerveza artesanal cuando de pronto teníamos al lado una pareja en la otra mesa que nos empezó a bar conversación, preguntándonos de donde éramos...y no sé por qué motivo, la mujer saco del bolso un spray con perfume el que empezó a disparar sobre Johan y lo dejo oliendo a rosas... Nadie entendió por qué Rossie hizo un eso, pero todos empezamos a reírnos de la situación teniendo una entretenida conversación de viajes y la vida, y finalmente fuimos invitados a almorzar a su casa como despedida de Duniden. Gracias Rossie y Andy por el almuerzo y tour, me gusto  mucho haberlos conocido. 

After relaxing and enjoying Ian's company and place for a week and with the travelers restlessness bubbling up again we decided it was time to continue our voyage but not after a most curious but fun meet up with Rosie and her fiancée Andy. We got mixed into conversation with them in a local bar, between a ball rolling high headed magician, the worst hip hop act ever, and a broken nose after one hip hop head banging character hit the other one straight in the face and finally invited for lunch at their place before leaving. The next morning, while wondering if everything really happened, with a slight headache (according to Rosie and based on experience due to the poor quality of the beer), we had a warm welcome and a lovely lunch at this UK-EL Salvador-Costa Rican couples place. Thank you guys and looking forward meeting you again.

Fiordland & Southland

Después de haber pasado unos días maravillosos en la zona de Wanaka y Queenstown, no teníamos muy claro hacia dónde continuar. Habíamos planificado ir a hacer una caminata a Steward Island, pero según los pronósticos del clima, iban a tocar días de lluvia, por lo que decidimos no ir, pero luego teníamos la disyuntiva si continuar hacia el sur de la isla sur y recorrer los Cattlins o ir camino al parque nacional Fiordland. Finalmente decidimos por ir a conocer los fiordos de Mildford Sounds. 

Habíamos estado dudando si ir o no a esta zona, ya que es muy turística y llegan miles de turistas en la mañana bloqueando la única ruta de acceso al parque nacional... Pero una vez estando ahí, entendimos por qué es que acude tanta gente a este lugar. 

El primer día, recorrimos algunos km en el auto, parando en cada lugar donde podíamos estacionar el auto, bajarnos, y admirar los paisajes... Hicimos nuestro picnic al lado de un lago, y por la noche acudimos a un camping cerca de Mildford Sound, destino del segundo día en este parque nacional. 

Visiting the touristic highlights is always a dilemma; described as the number ones in the top 10 to do in New Zealand, plenty of excursions and promises of unforgettable views and experiences on one hand and a certain feeling of missing out when not going on one hand, masses of tourists, unfulfilled expectations, no parking space, and no untrodden paths on the other hand.....Milford Sound, to go or not to go. We decided we would leave this only easily accessible fiord in Firodland for a next visit to New Zealand and we would head down South, until at the turn off, in a sudden impulse I turned the wheel and we were on route to the Milford Sound. I think that is one of the beauties of traveling without a plan, let the moment decide and follow gut feeling.

Para no estar atrapados en el tráfico junto con los miles de turistas y buses turísticos que andarían por la única ruta de acceso a Mildford Sound, decidimos salir temprano, es decir despertarnos a las 6 am, aún oscuro pero con la ventaja de que no había ni un alma más que las nuestras en la ruta. Fuimos de los primeros en llegar a Mildford Sound, hicimos una corta caminata hacia la entrada de los Fiordos, las Montañas reflejadas en el mar, era impresionante, las cascadas que caían de las montañas que nos rodeaban, hacían que todo el entorno tenga un toque mágico. Lo mejor de todo, fue poder apreciar los fiordos, las montañas y cascadas, nosotros solos frente  a la naturaleza, ya que cuando empezaron a llegar los buses llenos de asiáticos, nosotros ya habíamos dado nuestro paseo, y contemplado este lugar único. 

We didn't regret our choice even if it was to get a glimpse of Fiordland, an extremely inaccessible, immense national park and part of the Southwest New Zealand World Heritage area. As you approach, then get up in the mountains and finally come down on the other side on the Tasman sea, the vegetation testifies of the increased annual rainfall as you go westward. To avoid the masses we decided for an early leave, which usually means aiming to leave at 6 AM and finally getting on our way by 7.30 AM, but not this time. One of the first to arrive in the Milford Sound, we went for a walk along the shore and could feel and experience for a few short minutes the majestic and mysterious magic of the Milford Sound, misty, clouds going up and down, the reflections in the water, the silence broken by wind and bird songs, the very same things that have made the place a touristic destination for the last 150 years, mainly for the lucky few getting there by an expensive cruise or by a strenuous hike over the Milford track. In later years, the access roads and tunnel were opened and mass tourism begun trading the magic of the place for the benefit of the general public. At 8 AM sharp the first boats got onto the only 8 km long fiord, navigating in circles around each other, competing for the loudest speaker, and turning all the reflections of the surrounding mountains into a frantic mass of white spume and ripples. Happy with our intimate moment of us and the Sound, we drove up into the clouds, through the Homer tunnel and towards the South Coast, not after a few prayers for our red Mazda MVP 2000, nicknamed the "Canasta Mobil", not to abandon us after a steep ascent in the middle of the one way Homer tunnel blocking the way of the 4000 daily mainly Asian, German and French tourists on route to their New Zealand trip highlight. We came through victoriously and our degree of confidence in our purchased wheels approximating the 200000 km on the odometer is only increasing.

Dejando Fiordland, nos dirigimos hacia la provincia de Southland donde hicimos nuestra segunda excursión al interior de unas cavernas. 

Johan ya venía con esta idea de ir a esta caverna hace días, pero yo tenía un poco de susto ya que habían estado los días anteriores con lluvia, y me parecía un poco imprudente hacer esta caminata debajo de la tierra en esas condiciones. Pero el día que pasamos por segunda vez por esta caverna, el día estaba soleado, sin lluvia ni viento... Por lo que decidimos ingresar. Una vez dentro, empezamos a seguir las señales que te indicaban que camino tomar, en las que más de una vez nos mirábamos y decíamos, ¨Por ahí debemos debemos ingresar¨? Eran entradas a túneles por donde debíamos acceder avanzando de rodillas y ayudándonos con ambas manos para no resbalarnos. Nos toco trepar escaleras pegadas a los muros, bajar escaleras, pasar por el borde de una piscina llena de agua de lluvia (muy fría), finalmente salimos victoriosos de esta aventura, llegando a la puerta que nos sacaría de nuevo a la luz del día. 

My grandfather, who I thoroughly admired and who dodged bullets and lions in Africa, always told me "who loves the danger will perish in it". My mum, who I love, always told me to use my common sense. So keeping this in mind and getting to the entrance of the limestone caves which I had been looking forward to since a week to get into and do the selfguided tour, in the pouring rain with a big sign, "do not enter in heavy rain, risk of flash flooding", we decided not to get in there and left with an enormous feeling of frustration and anguished and continued our way Southwards. Obviously, the next day waking up with sunshine, I turned back and there we were at the entrance of the cave again. Reading all the precautions, preparing ourselves and having talked to some locals, we got in with the objective of getting out 400 m further down the road. Walking and crawling through narrow passages (the route was very well marked by the Department of Conservation) I saw branches and grass high up in the cave, a marker as to how high the flash floods can get, and got a sudden wave of panic coming up, a flirt of common sense trying to make me decide to go back and a profound reflection of why it is necessary to do these things and not get on a tour bus and take pictures when told to do so. Belen was ahead of me admiring the rock formations and leading the way and soon the route was easier to walk and the ceiling higher and I was able to subdue my claustrophobia. Again, an enormous sense of relief to crawl out of the hole, breath fresh air and feel sunshine on your skin. Congratulations to Belen who was the braver half of the team.

Luego continuamos el camino por la Costa pasando por playas con muchísima vida marina, vimos lobos marinos, focas y pingüinos. 

Caminamos por una playa en la que habíamos leído, era famosa por las piedras preciosas que podías encontrar ahí, nos pasamos toda una mañana caminando por la playa, recogimos varias piedras (las cuales, no sabemos bien si son preciosas o no) y que ahora llevamos en una bolsa a todos lados dentro de la mini van. 

A long, beautiful drive along the Southern Coast, having a beer in the bar of NZ's former sheep shearing record holder, looking for sapphires and rubies on gemstone beach, finding out that Monkey Island is so called because of some sort of hauling crane called a monkey and that Invercargill, one of those magic names on a map (most Southern big city) is even more Scottish than imagined took us to the Cattlins Coast where Ocean, Forest and Farms meet. Although a bit blurred by rain and drizzle or short drive through the Cattlins was worth it, with its extensive wildlife, calm sandy bays and wild ocean beaches and magnificent colors of the landscapes. A combination  of timing, a bit of patience and luck gave us the rare opportunity to see the endangered yellow eyed penguin getting out of the sea after a long day fishing onto the beach, scouting for danger and intruders and then walking penguin style to its burrow. A sniff of the Cattlins Coast, not enough to be wholly satisfied, but enough to put it on the list of to-come-back places, we decided to continue towards Dunedin to celebrate Belen's birthday, as she wished, not in the rain, with a good restaurant and the opportunity for a drink in a civilized bar in the evening.