So, our faithful station wagon decided she needed another rest from all the long drives we've put her through, so she decided to take a nice three day nap outside of Dunedin. She did wake up long enough for us to get her into the city where she could get her starter motor tuned up, and she's been a trooper ever since.
Feeling a bit rattled by the string of recent breakdowns, we decided we'd better get to one of the most remote places on the South Island as quickly as our ailing steed would bear us there. So as soon as she was well again, we set out for the Milford Sound.
Even though Dunedin and Milford Sound sit on opposite coasts, we made the whole trip in a day, probably 6 hours or so of driving. The trip mostly spans rural mountainous terrain while passing through the moderate size towns of Balclutha, Clinton and Gore (where we found an oddly located homage to the United States Executive Branch). Along the way, we also spotted some of the most magnificent Rocky Mountain Elk either of us had ever seen.
With these two reminders of our homeland, we were beginning to think we'd driven through some sort of space portal, and any minute we were going to turn a corner and be in an Applebee's parking lot. Our worries were quickly assuaged, as we soon found out that a herd of American Wapiti had been given as a gift to New Zealand by President Theodore Roosevelt in 1909, and the Presidential Highway was thus named simply because the Kiwis found it amusing that two small neighboring towns shared names with the two leaders of the US.
We arrived in Te Anau, the central hub of the Fiordlands, a little after mid-day. As usual, we didn't have much of a plan, so after a short tour around the town, we quickly decided to head out to Milford Sound. The sound lies about 120 kilometers north of Te Anau, so we figured we could probably make the trip in just over an hour. About 3 hours later, after an indescribably beautiful drive around Lake Te Anau and through the Eglinton Valley, we were watching the sun set behind Mitre Peak. Rudyard Kipling dubbed the Milford Sound the Eighth Wonder of the World (had he lived to see the film adaptation of his Jungle Book, he may have reserved this title for King Louie's musical number). Neither of us possess the lexicon to aptly describe this corner of the world, so we'll let the pictures do the talking!
Because the last hour of the Milford Road is a horrifying nightmare, especially in a vehicle of questionable fortitude, we decided not to make the trip back to Te Anau in the dark, and instead opted to treat ourselves to the very limited and overpriced food and accommodation at the Sound. After a restroom pit-stop (during which a Department of Conversation employee threatened to lock one of us in the bathroom for taking too long to dry our hands), we headed into the only restaurant in the area for a little grub. The food was nothing inspiring, but the staff were a lively bunch. We noticed a posting on the chalkboard that there would be bingo at 9 o'clock. When we asked our French waitress to tell us about it and whether or not we should stick around for it, she had only one question for us: "Do you enjoy being naked?" What did this have to do with Bingo? What had these people, three hours from the nearest town, resorted to in order to entertain themselves? Would Smaug make it up the hill and out of this valley, or would we be trapped here, doomed to an eternity of playing naked Bingo with strangers? Why do Kea's crave the flesh of automobiles? The answers to these questions and many more to come....in Part II!
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