30.09 New Zealand: Part 2, Mount Taranaki, a memorable experience on the volcano.

Is there a top to this...an end?




There is indeed. Thanks, Dave of Wellington.




Our accommodation has been comfortable and at times, quite exciting, in New Zealand. Thus far, only once has it presented a bit of a challenge and that’s as we prepare for a 5-day tramp on the Abel Tasman Trail, reputedly a top excursion along the coast. We stayed in a cabin within a campground which was great in principle, much like our visit to Picton (terrific), but that’s where the comparison began and ended. Between the flies and mosquitoes, failing air-conditioning unit and suprisingly hot weather, we were put through our paces. Without a private bathroom, aggressive chickens befriending us and leaving their internally processed food on our patio and cooking area when we scooted them away, we have had better days. In fact, one of the hens slept on the outside stovetop. There was nothing we could do to move her, short of turning on the electricity, we suppose.
The commencement of the tramp is a three-minute walk from our cabin in a sparsely inhabited region and thus our choices were limited. (continued at end)...


Since mentioning I was a vegetarian, it lost all its inhibitions and fear.

In case it does not come across clearly, one of us is not amused.


A view into the cone from the top. There was much more snow than expected.




Sunset the previous evening from 5,000 feet.




On the way down, a break in the clouds reveals the hut, the attractive rolling mounds and then ground level.




As we got higher, the slope looked more acute and a little overwhelming, when we thought too much about it.




Unrehearsed. Arms outstretched in a form of a plea or for balance.




And we said it was a tough hike...the lounge area of the Alpine Lodge.




We woke early for this sight. Loved the mist hovering just above the ground.




One of the memorable cloud scenes from the peak looking into the cone. The clouds were always below us.



Cheers,

Jenni and Jeffrey



I approached the owner to help with cooling the air inside the cabin (92 degrees F). Thinking I was missing something, not working the unit appropriately, I thought he’d solve our issues. ‘You’re doing everything correctly,’ he said, after checking the unit. ‘It will take a wee more time to drop the temperature another 25 degrees,’ he assured us. As the unit had been functioning for at least six hours, ‘wee’ had taken on a whole new meaning. In fact, we met and engaged in conversation with a Scottish family at the campground. Later, just for our edification, we asked if ‘wee’ still meant what we always understood it to mean.

Accommodation on the tramps has been of a lower standard than in many countries. No showers, not even cold water showers, no cooking facilities in some, no lights, no toilet paper in a few, no flushing toilets and crowding. Otherwise, they are great. On the Northern Circuit last week, we had the opportunity to have an interesting chat with a ranger. He works in a modern hut which is superior to anything we’ve come across. It so happens that we had decided to walk two-days in one, therefore skipping that sophisticated hut with a number of modern features. Anyway, the night before in the previous hut, we found an upper-level bunk that was spacious and looked like we had struck good luck. Later we discovered that the two mattresses were not equal, one being a little wider than the other. On closer examination, it turned out that the two mattresses were for three people. Not a great feeling. However, there was one vacant space in the hut for the night and so we felt fortunate as no one had yet claimed our spot. Close to dark, a guy walked through the door, tired and sweaty. Guess who had someone to share a mattress with for the night.


Action at the hut in early morning. Bed location on right, see story below.



Things were becoming stuffy in the room that night and at 1:30am, I felt closed in and uncomfortable. I grabbed my sleeping bag and established a position under a sink on the wooden flooring outside. Suffice to say, after four hours of struggling, I gave up that idea and returned to the noisy room filled with a cacophony of snoring. It was not our best night in a cabin. The ranger told us in the politically correct New Zealand, the ratio of sleeping space to general space had been modified to meet modern standards. Older huts obviously did not fall into that category.

Cheers,

Jenni and Jeffrey