The road to New Zealand's Milford Sound

Cascade Creek

You are a traveller. You arrive at Escape Rentals in Christchurch, New Zealand, to pick up a campervan graffitied with a viking ship. It looks like something you should set on fire during a riot. "Woah, you're in here for a long time," says the rental guy as he shows you the van, "I guess I should show you how to check the oil."

He pulls the passenger seat back to reveal the engine underneath. Your companions are shocked. "Cool." Says the bearded one. "That's terrifying," says the curly haired one. You will be straddling a combustion engine for five weeks, sleeping, eating and driving in a Nissan Campervan around New Zealand.

You realise that neither of your companions are paying any attention to what the rental guy is saying. This might come into play later. But you put it to the back of your mind for now. The more pressing concern is how you are going to maintain your sanity throughout the five weeks.

Martin, the Ill-Fated

Your drive takes you south of Christchurch, along the coast. You pass through Dunedin and stop to camp at Weir Beach. The bearded one searches the beach tirelessly for sea lions. He finds none but points his camera aimlessly at the sea, catching a seagull in profile above the shimmering ocean. Sometimes luck bends favourably toward the artless.

Weir Beach

You are to sleep in the front seat. You can sleep anywhere, at any time, all you have to do is stop reading this blog and you will vanish. You drift off to the sound of the Lord of the Rings audiobook read by Robert Inglis. Your companions are comparing what is and is not in the film. They are constantly wrong.

The next day you drive through 50km/h crosswinds and torrential rain that seems bent on driving you and your companions into a bloody wreckage. It rains like nothing you have ever seen. As luck would have it, you had the windscreen wipers replaced that day. The ones you left with were useless - worse, even - they actively smudge the windscreen, blinding the driver entirely. The new wipers are aged quickly as you wade your way through curtain after curtain of heavy rain.

New Zealand flashes it's wild side. It's a place where weather is big and geology is active. Flooding, earthquakes, storms, volcanic eruptions and earth bending landslides are all possible.

The storm passes after your stay in Wyndham and you head up towards Milford Sound. You stop to camp at Cascade Creek, a stunning campsite on a road of dramatic vistas. You park the garish van on the corner of the best view in the campground. The bearded one gets up early to set up his tripod on the breakfast table outside. In his pyjamas, he balances with tip toes clawing the end of the table, painstakingly adjusting the tripod until it is level.

Cascade Creek

You climb Key Summit, it is loaded with tourists. After reaching the summit your companions lose each other. "I better go back and find her," says the bearded one after climbing down the zig-zag path. You take this opportunity to escape your companions, wondering through the walk and taking in the snow peaked mountains stretching high on all sides. Kea birds squawk in the trees, a stream bubbles restlessly alongside the path. It is the first time you have felt at peace in several days.

The view from Key Summit, New Zealand // Aver Sunday

You double back for another look at the summit. A walker asks you if you have seen the bearded one. "There's a girl with curly hair who is very distressed on the summit," they say.

You tell them "no," and continue your blissful journey. You eventually find them reunited at the top. The curly haired one has bent her anxious imagination to the image of a crippled man fallen down the side of the peak. She seems relieved.

Key Summit walk

At Milford Sound you take a boat out through the fiord. The mountains stretch infinitely on either side, delicately mottled by the sun shining through scattered clouds on this brisk early morning. This area was formed through glaciation, the process where a glacier carves it's way through rock. The boat slows for a school of dolphins swimming into the sound. They float up playfully to the sides, mocking you with their superior alien intelligence. Reading your thoughts.

From Milford Sound

From Milford Sound

You pass Seal Rock, where seals break from days long at sea and come to the shore. The seals shake there long necks in greeting, laughing at the selfie-taking, camera-clicking, cold and shivering humans aboard their ridiculous floating vessel.

At Seal Rock, Milford Sound