This is what makes a 23 hour flight worthwhile!
South Island between Haast Pass and Wanaka
The best way to see the country
For some strange reason that I have never quite fathomed, since the age of eleven, it has been a dream of mine to see New Zealand, and now in my sixtieth year, the dream finally came true.
Having not see my children or grandchildren for nearly two years, it was high time that I undertook the long journey to the other side of the world once more.
While living in Miami, I had been twice to Australia, flying first to Los Angeles and then spending the best part of sixteen hours crossing the Pacific Ocean to reach Melbourne. I often feel that long haul flying is a bit like childbirth. At the time, you swear that you'll never do it again, but then you find yourself in possession of another airticket, all prepared to squeeze into a seat with no leg room, situated in front of a person with no manners.
But this time I was going "the other way round" from France via London and Hong Kong, and with a temptingly low airfare on offer, I put the pressure on Jean to come with me. The thought of coping with all the various components of the journey on my own seemed a bridge too far, and I was so happy when he agreed to come along as Honorary Grandpa.
Thanks to the loving generosity of my two children, both our camper van in New Zealand, and four days in a beautiful farmhouse near the beach on the Great Ocean Road south of Melbourne were a birthday gift, thus giving us two holidays within our three week stay, and with hand on heart, we can honestly say that it was far and away the best trip we could ever have had.
But back to the realisation of my dream. As we flew in to Christchurch, the air stewardess announced that there were now new chickens at the airport which she hoped we would all enjoy. I was dubious as to why chickens should be such a source of pleasure and why they would be kept in such a public place, and then realised that she was informing us of the new "check-ins". Clearly the New Zealand accent was something we would have to come to grips with, but the New Zealanders that we met were as friendly and delightful as I had always known they would be, even though my previous knowledge of them had been based largely on the All Black Rugby team!
Two camper vans were the chosen method of transport, and my daughter and her family occupied one and Jean and I had the other. What a brilliant way of seeing the country. No packing and unpacking each day; a hot cup of coffee at a moments' notice; the same cosy comfortable bed each night and time to spend gazing in awe at the sheer majesty of the South Island scenery.
I ran out of descriptive words within the first hour of leaving the Canterbury Plain and climbing up towards Arthur's Pass en route for the west coast and Greymouth. Everywhere you look, you can see tourists with their mouths agape as they turn another corner and take in yet another spectacle of snow capped mountains, vast lakes, vistas that go on forever, and in our case, a beautiful blue sky overhead.
Of course it rains in New Zealand and you definitely need to like sheep, but the green pastures and contented flocks are proof that the combination works. It was late September while we were there and although the daffodils were out and the peach blossom created drifts of pink across the landscape, we still managed a dusting of snow on our last night.
We had stopped in the campground near the foot of Mount Cook, in the hopes that the low cloud would lift and we would be rewarded with the sight of the South Island's highest peak, but instead, the grey mist hung in swags around the mountain sides. It was no problem, and we were content lying in bed with a hot mug of coffee watching the snowflakes drift past the window, and on our way back to Melbourne, we flew directly over Mount Cook and literally had a birds eye view of the entire snowcapped range that forms the backbone of the island.
At each stop we would regroup with our fellow travellers and enjoy a picnic lunch and an evening of laughter and good food before each retiring to our respective beds, and while Mum and Dad went off in the rain to explore the Fox Glacier, Granny and Grandpa stayed in the cosy warmth and played games of Uno, Snakes and Ladders and Monopoly. There is nothing more precious to me than time spent with my grandchildren and we cherished every moment.
We parted company with them in the Queenstown region and over the next three days, the children learned to snow ski, ice skate, bungy jump and rock climb and they even raced their Dad down the luge in a low slung go-kart. In the meantime, we headed back to Christchurch, said hello and goodbye to the chickens and flew back to Melbourne for part two of our wonderful holiday.
