From one green and sheepy land to another....

Ireland is a country I know nearly as well as I know Utah.  In fact, behind me in this photo is one of the houses I was fortunate to live in when I was younger. I'm so grateful to be able to spend time again in a place so near to my heart, and to be able to be surrounded by familiar and beloved faces during this holiday season. 

Abel Tasman National Park

There's such a variety of landscape on the South Island. I don't think I have nearly enough time to appreciate all of what's on offer--I may need to return here later in this adventure year.  On the northern tip sits Abel Tasman NP, which boasts the highest number of sunny days and the warmest temperatures of the whole of the island. It can be explored either by foot or by kayak. So I did!

Arthur's Pass National Park region

A kea, the world's only alpine parrot.  They're huge, and very smart, and are always trying to eat whatever the humans have--snacks, fruit, or the plastic parts of your car.

Cave Creek's outlet, cave on right.

I'm sternly avoiding the many Lord of the Rings landscape tour books that can be found in every souvenir stand and bookshop here, but I'm pretty sure that Castle Hill is where the Fellowship comes out of the Mines of Moriah and gets attacked by wargs in the first film.  

Temple Basin, which tops out at about 6000 feet.  It's not the altitude that impresses here but the abruptness.  All these mountains are super steep--all those dramatic NZ vistas are partially down to all the dizzying plunges from peak to sea-level.

Mt. Cook / Aoraki National Park

Before we get to yet more photos of The Nature, we need to talk about The Americans.  I'm pretty confident that there are more Americans in New Zealand than there are New Zealanders.*  It's disconcerting to be standing on a ridgeline overlooking a glaciated rainforest and be suddenly surrounded by that familiar accent.  I don't mind them, in the abstract--I mean, I am one.  But it makes traveling here very strange, especially after spending so long in Central Asia and seeing close to zero Americans.  

(Mueller Glacier on Mr. Sefton)

Indeed, traveling in NZ feels much like traveling in the Pacific Northwest, between the mountain/ocean combo, the temperate rainforests, the towns every 15 miles or so, and the high concentration of Americans.  It's also fairly close to the same cost as traveling in the Pacific Northwest, which is to say not cheap (again, especially in contrast to Central Asia; everything here is at least 10x more expensive than in, say, Kyrgyzstan or Nepal).  I think that the throngs of American tourists have something to do with that feature of NZ as well. 

(Hooker Valley)

But a weird effect of this deeply American-ated experience is that I feel less that I'm able to sink quietly into the place and observe and learn and accommodate myself to it, and more that it's already accommodated itself to me.  NZ is asking very little of me, really, and disorienting me almost not at all.  I'm not sure I'm pleased about that nondisruption, which stands in stark contrast to some of the profound adjustments I have recently experienced--to my assumptions and expectations, to my base of knowledge, and toward the suppression of my ego. 

(Hooker Lake/Glacier--see how far the glacier has retreated? 

It's back there behind me in the far corner of the lake, hard to see under

   its layer of debris.)

This is all to say that it's an entirely different kind of experience to be in NZ than it is to be in Central Asia--which might be the most unsurprising realization for me to have had.  I'm very grateful and happy to be having a range of experiences, especially insofar as they involve peaks covered with ice.  But I find myself missing the less absorptive places I've traveled during these past few months, wishing that NZ would resist me just a little bit.

(Tasman Lake/Glacier - in 1961, my dad stood exactly

   where I'm standing to take this photo, and he was able to touch

    the glacier. Now, it's way out there in the distance, covered in gray dust.)

* Also, The Americans seem to be, at an uncomfortably high ratio, from the Instagram-posting category of tourist, running to a place, taking a fast set of pictures with great concern for clothes and lighting, and then dashing off to another photo opportunity.  I recognize that I am very fortunate to be able to move slowly through various locations, but my slow and immersive travel style has also made me feel (judgily, maybe even unfairly) more spiky about the Influencer Tourist class.  

Fiordland National Park

 Yes, it's really spelled that way. But it's so ludicrously beautiful it can be spelled however it wants.

(Mt. Christina, Mt. Crosscut, Mt. Lyttle, and Marian Lake)

(The Milford road, through a series of very steep ranges - Kepler, Earl, Murchison, Darran...)

(I think that's the backside of Mt. Crosscut on the right)

(Milford Sound. You can see the sound either by a kind of two-deck sightseeing cruise or by kayaking. Guess which one I chose.)

(Here I am blocking the iconic view of Mitre Peak.)

I know that the ratio of text to photos has lessened in recent weeks.  I'm just outside hiking a lot, and spending less pensive time reflecting at a keyboard.

Mt. Aspiring National Park region

Turns out that over 40% of the South Island of NZ is National Park territory or some other category of conserved land.  I'm just gonna be wandering from one NP to another and putting my boots on as much NZ dirt as I can manage.*  I have really loved the day-hiking in the area of Wanaka Lake, just to the east of Mt. Aspiring. All these lakes are BRIGHT BLUE, bluer than the sky and hard to capture in a photo, alas.

Diamond Lake/Rocky Mountain trail:

Isthmus Peak trail (for the record: neither an isthmus nor technically a peak, but a good way to spend a day anyway):

The treeline in NZ is at like 600 feet above sea level, so all these hikes are fully exposed, but since it's *not* unbearably hot here, I'm not complaining too much.

* Speaking of boots:  when you enter NZ, you must declare anything you're carrying that has touched dirt anywhere else.  They are carefully protecting their fragile ecosystem.  They will confiscate stuff with soil as you come through customs at the airport.  Happily, I knew about this policy in advance and cleaned both my boots and my poles with a toothbrush in Singapore.  The customs agent was SO IMPRESSED by my clean gear! 
 

In which I finally cool down

Hello, Franz Josef Glacier!

And hello from New Zealand: nearly 45 degrees south and a very pleasant 59 degrees Fahrenheit.

Franz Josef and its neighbor Fox Glacier are in Westland Tai Poutini National Park. on the west coast of NZ, and it's wild to me that there are glaciers hanging out pretty much right above sea level.