We spent a few days in the student city Dunedin catching up with our good friend Hamo. With many beautiful historic buildings and loads of outdoors things to do, we really enjoyed our time here. We left dreaming about being a bit younger and going to uni again! 

​Below is our little guide of some of the things you can get up to here. One thing we highly recommend doing but don't have any photos of is going to a rugby game and getting tickets in the student zone, also known as the 'zoo'! It was a bit of a laugh and provided some great entertainment. 

Head out to the Dunedin Peninsula to see the Blue penguins come in from sea. You can also go on an albatross tour but there is no guarantee you will see one, in contrast to the penguins where you will see between 40 and 200 depending on the time of year. 

The penguins are hilarious to watch and listen to. They are so loud, making crazy noises - some angry, some happy! Heading to shore at sunset, the penguins go to the same burrows with their same buddy. Though they can be known to share buddies on occasion! 

The tour costs $35 each, but is definitely worth it. And half of this goes into conservation for the area. 

Tunnel Beach is another one of natures wonders with crazy rock formations. The rugged ocean line is a great little adventure suitable for all ages. 

​Said to be the only castle in NZ but apparently there is another castle also in Dunedin! In contrast to castles in Europe this is pretty lame, but it is an interesting piece of NZ history worth heading to see. 

You can walk around the grounds which are beautifully kept, and see inside the castle. We were fortunate enough to be let in for free which was an added bonus! There are beautiful views out towards the peninsula from one of the balconies.  

The steepest street in the world, and home to our first trip selfie! 

St Bathans takes you back in time to the 1800's. Steeped in history from the gold mining days with a dazzling landscape, St Bathans is famed for its startling man-made Blue Lake and the Vulcan Hotel, said to be haunted. 

We arrived at night, in fog so thick it was a bit of a mystery as to the landscape surrounding us. All we knew - it was bloody freezing! 

Freezing it was, as we woke up to the most amazing frost. I have never seen anything like it! Everything was frozen, from the grass to tall trees. A layer of mist sat hovering over the fields and the sky tinged with pink from the reflection of the sunrise. A casual -10 degrees, we had a few more troubles than finding enough clothes to wear on our walk this morining! 

Benny was met with a spark when we turned on the water pump - the spark plug blown. The water pump was frozen solid, and all our water pipes frozen. The solution was to take the water pump out, rest it in front of the heater, and to pour hot water over all the pipes to get them to melt too. Note this was still the case at 3pm when it came time to fix it! 

From the Doc campsite, there is a walk that takes you to the lake with options to walk around it or do a little loop track. The lake is man made from the gold mining days. By 1933, miners had sluiced the 120-metre Kildare Hill into a 69-metre "Glory Hole" - at that time the deepest mining hole in the Southern Hemisphere.
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​The operation had to be halted because the sides of the pit were getting too close to the town. The huge hole was filled with water, with the minerals in the surrounding rocks giving the lake its startling turquoise hue.

​Established in 1863, this Central Otago town once consisted of more than 2000 miners and a surprising 13 hotels. Now the permanent population is less than 10. We strolled through town to view restored stone fences, the Anglican Church, bank, stone houses, school ruins, the two-story Post Office, Catholic Church, billiard hall and the Vulcan Hotel. 

Guttered we could't stay longer than a night in this town, we had to get to Queenstown for the bus windscreen to be replaced after it suffered a nasty chip a month ago. It turns out getting a replacement windscreen is no easy feat but this is another story! We reckon this would be a top place to spend a summer holiday doing not a whole lot! That said, we will be back. 

The understated Southland coast is home to many beauties. Unlike the likes of Queenstown and Te Anau, it is quiet and tourists are scarce in comparison, making it all the better! 

Unfortunately the Cathedral Caves were not open - access to these seems to go off how they are feeling on the day.   

Nugget Point is where you will have seen amazing photos of the light house. Unfortunately I still don't own a tripod which makes things difficult but nonetheless we enjoyed watching the sunrise from the point. The boulders are incredible too. 

There is a hide to watch the penguins from which you camp out in before the sun goes down. 

​This place is real random, but so cool. It is pretty hard to explain what it is - I think the best thing to do is to go there and experience it for yourself! 

There are many waterfalls to explore, all within a short walking distance from the carpark. I have nil photos as it was raining! 

I'll let the photo do the talking here! 

​New Zealand’s little version of Yosemite in the States, except with a whole load of water! Milford Sound is magical and will leave you feeling a huge appreciation for nature. Coming here felt quite surreal as it is one of those places I’d always longed to experience.
 
A boat trip onto the fiord is a must, giving you the best views of the surround cliffs. Mitre Peak the most distinctive of them all, is the focal point wherever you are in Milford.
 
There are many little walks on the drive from Te Anau to Milford; we walked up to Marian Lake which is at the Hollyford junction. It is an easy way that will take you between two to three hours return.
 
We can’t wait to return already; with not enough time we will be back – mainly to walk the many hikes in this area.  
 
 
 

Stewart Island – North West Circuit
10 days, 9 nights and 125km.
 
It was a bit much to write about this adventure as a memoir, instead I’ve got a little daily dairy / report of our time on the Northwest Circuit. Perhaps our greatest achievement, the 10 days of absolute wilderness provided some of our hardest yet most rewarding hiking to date.

​Day 1: Halfmoon Bay to North Arm Hut.
12 km, 3 hours

Feeling average after too many beersies the night before, the early morning and rough seas had us at the hut and into bed as quick as possible!

The ferry from Bluff to Halfmoon Bay wasn’t for the faint hearted; with 4m swells most people were feeling pretty queasy, holding onto their seats and stomachs. I reckon we should have had a double dose of sea leg pills!

After savouring our lunch at the South Sea Hotel, in what would be our last decent meal for 10 days, we set off for North Arm Hut. As this is part of the Rakiura Track (Great Walk), the track was mainly a gravel path with barely any mud. It was peaceful, the forest creaked, lush green ferns spread wide across the forest floor and reflections from the couple of puddles shone.

Arriving at the hut 3 hours after leaving the pub – grateful for the short walk, we settled in for an early night and some unsuccessful kiwi spotting.
 
Day 2: North Arm Hut to Fresh Water Creek Hut
11km, 6 hours

Mud, mud, and more mud, along with the chirping birds and hungry deer. Until you’ve hiked the Northwest circuit you might not fully comprehend how much mud there is! It felt good to conquer one of the toughest days on the track.

Benny had one tantrum – almost rightly so. We had to navigate our way down a river bed, with low hanging trees making it difficult with every step as they would knock your pack and send you backwards. As usual Benny’s pack was huge and this is an understatement.

The day was mostly through thick forest, with many ups and downs – a characteristic of the Northwest Circuit. You never climb that high, yet probably if you added up the changes in elevation, we’d probably climbed a mountain!

Already dreaming of our next pub feed after night 2 of Back Country Meal’s, this could be a very drawn out 10 days.
 
Day 3: Fresh Water Hut to Mason Bay Hut
16km, 3.5 hours

She was long and flat today. The beautiful grass fields spread far and wide, as we made our way over to the west coast of Stewart Island. Most of todays’ track had been man made back in the 1800’s for farming. We made the hut by midday which made for a nice afternoon of chilling out, resting the legs.

We headed out before dusk in hope of spotting a kiwi at Mason Bay Homestead – an old but kept farm house near to the hut. Despite hearing many calling, and hearing one close in the bush we had no luck. The sunset streaked pink and yellow across the skies, making it a beautiful evening to be out and about.
 
Day 4: Mason Bay Hut to Big Hellfire Hut
15km, 6.5 hours

WE SAW A KIWI. Yes indeed we did see a kiwi, in broad daylight right in front of us, we saw a kiwi. Not only did we see him, he walked out about 10m directly in front of us, then towards us before virtually brushing past Benny’s left side before heading on his way, leaving us with no doubts to why they are an endangered species. He had no idea!

This was potentially the coolest thing ever, seeing a kiwi in the wild. Both surreal and amazing, we were left speechless. It was magical. They are surprisingly quick with both their pecking and walking – we were impressed; it almost made up for their below average eyesight and clueless nature.

Putting the kiwi aside, she was a tough but rewarding day this one. The distance was long, and the terrain difficult. Loads of mud, uneven surfaces, many hills and dense forest, made for challenging times. From walking on beautiful golden sand beaches to being on top of a ridge, the sights were impressive and beautiful. Beginning with a stunning sunrise which was as great as the sunset the night before, to the huge fresh kiwi footprints we saw heading onto the beach, to the dear we saw in the middle of the track totally oblivious to us – it was a top day.   

We arrived at the hut with the rain really settling in, soaked through and cold; it was a relief Benny managed to get the fire roaring.
 
Day 5: Big Hellfire Hut to East Ruggedy Hut
14km, 7 hours

Woaaaaah, we’re half way there. Boom. Another huge day. Thunderstorms and hail joined us walking today, and a few deer which we spooked. Getting to the hut was pretty emotional! Dripping wet, hadn’t had lunch, and had been walking for 5 hours since our last break, arriving never felt so good.

The sights were again incredible. There were the most amazing beach, even in an intense storm it was spectacular; from the colours, to the waves, then the rocky cliffs and flat-topped forests.

I did a little half way washing session; it's going to be so good having a few cleanish clothes. Nice hut, top views, haven’t seen anyone now since Mason Bay.
 
Day 6: East Ruggedy Hut to Long Harry Hut
9km, 4 hours

We have never felt so grateful for Doc huts until yesterday and talking to an American girl tonight while we were all warm, dry and tucked up in a cosy hut confirmed this. She explained quite simply, in America we’d be outside in the 75kmh winds and rain putting up a tent. 

We started later today in hope the weather might clear – we were definitely dreaming. Setting off in the wind and the rain it was brutal going. The first section involved heading down a sand dune, across some quick sand and through a stream before we could retreat to the forest, adding to this was some testing weather conditions. Getting sand blasted by insane westerly winds was definitely an experience. At times I had to stop walking to brace myself to avoid being blown over by the strong gusts.

The ocean looked angry today, so loud she was deafening. Crashing onto the shore with brute force, filling the beach with white wash. We negotiated our way over boulders, some head high, being sprayed with sea salt as we raced against the tide coming in. Thankfully making it to the far end of the beach after an hour of boulder hopping, before once again retreating to the forest.

We were stoked to share the hut with a couple of others tonight after the last couple on our own. The ear plugs made an appearance tonight, not because of snoring but because of the howling wind and the hut sounding like it was going to get blown on the cliff.

We’re feeling pretty stoked with the shorter day today and the pack is getting noticeably lighter by the day, especially for Benny as let’s be honest – he is the one carrying the majority of our food (as well as everything else!).
 
Day 7: Long Harry Hut to Yankee River Hut
9km, 4 hours

We were on the track at 9.30am after a pretty chilled out morning. In the mist of the storm, we had a beaut sunrise that got me out of bed in a scramble to get outside to make the most of it. Though it wasn’t long before the savage sand-flies got the better of me, and I took myself back inside.

Putting my feet into wet boots for the third or forth consecutive day was painful but had to be done! We were chased by thunderstorms for the majority of the afternoon. Not sure what was louder – my tummy grumbling or the crackling storm? Fortunately, we made it to the hut when the worst rain was setting in.

Benny crossed a three-wire bridge at the same time as lightening struck down. Slightly concerning but he is alive.

Not as much mud today and some parts were like a standard track. It was luxury. I would even go as far to say that some parts were easy going, though the legs were starting to feel tired and heavy which didn’t make for ‘easy going’!

There were two “hunters” in the hut which was a bit of a laugh. I use the word hunters loosely as they were 79 and 83 years of age and I’m not sure if they had left the hut in a week since being ‘choppered’ in! They preferred to put out a couple of spy cams and watch the deer from the comfort of the hut. Good on them for being out there, it seemed they were having a jolly good time spotting the wildlife.

Despite their average yarns, and strong delusional opinions, they were very kind giving us some of their milk and chocolate. Definitely a win when you’ve been eating the same meals for 7 days!

There was a top shelf of goodies in this hut, free for hikers to help themselves to. So with some scone mix, I whipped up some scones, cooking them on the top of the fire. They look a while, but they worked. With some jam kindly supplied by the hunters we sat around getting scones at 9pm.
 
Day 8: Yankee River Hut to Christmas Hut
12km, 5.5 hours

Safe to say, we were glad to leave the hut this morning, getting on the track nice and early! The plan was to get to the hut by midday, then climb to the highest peak on Stewart Island, but by the time we got to the hut – I was pretty stuffed!

It was a nice casual walk down to Christmas Hut which was right on the east coast of the island. It was a pretty uneventful walk really. Probably one of the easiest days, yet it did seem quite long.

First day in a while we have arrived at a hut dry (except for our feet!). Winning! Hoping for a good sunrise tomorrow morning. 

A sweet as young local named Marko arrived around 4.30pm, with his guitar in tow making for a few laughs in the hut tonight, along with his peach snapps. He had completed his first day on the trails and was fresh as, quite the contrast to us oldies.

Hanging out now for a shower and a pub meal!
 
Day 9: Christmas Hut to Bungaree Hut
12km, 5 hours

Our food stocks are at an all time low after feeding Marko some of our pasta for dinner last night and having today and tomorrow to go. Feels strange seeing a lack of food in contrast to a week ago. Makes packing a whole load easier though. We were elated to see the back of that instant pasta. Lunch everyday so far, it had defeated us. So sickening, and cheesy and slightly off as well  - we think! (sorry Marko)

We cruised down to Bungaree Hut, enjoying the golden sand beaches and fern forest along the way. Bungaree was a nice little hut with the same layout as Yankee River, however the difference was it was right on the beach. A pretty dreamy location.

Making it to the hut before the afternoon rain set in was also a dream. Feels weird that this journey is coming to an end. Both our highlights so far – seeing the kiwi.

It was nice to have a chilled-out afternoon and evening before a big day tomorrow.
 
Day 10: Bungaree Hut to Halfmoon Bay via Port William Hut
18km, 7 hours

WE SAW MORE KIWI. Sitting out on the deck eating our breakfast at 6.30am we first heard a couple of Kiwi’s in what sounded to be a fight. They were fighting each other – not sure if it was a play fight, argument type fight or a straight territorial fight! But it was once again another surreal and amazing experience. The two kiwi, had a little tussle in front of us before returning to foraging stations. At one point, one of them even made it onto the deck.

There was also another one on the track which we heard calling, then heard a rustle in the bush before catching a glimpse of him racing through the ferns.
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Today was long but easy walking, especially once we had reach Port William and were onto the Great Walk track.

First stop was Four Square for a snickers bar, before straight to the bar for a beer!
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I’m looking forward to regaining feeling in my toes and having a shower, but everything aside we could not recommend this walk enough. It was truly breathtaking and nothing like we have walked before.

* You can find out more information about this walk HERE

​We set off for Rodger Inlet Hut from Monowai Lake carpark feeling nil qualms about the day that lay ahead, only excitement at being back in the mountains starting another adventure – our first in Fiordland National Park. Leaving at 12.30pm in the gorgeous sunshine thinking the 10km walk to the hut would be nothing too strenuous, we could not have been more wrong! Described by DOC as an advanced tramping track / expert route for experienced trampers only, we can confirm it to be exactly this.

The towering forest track was storm ravaged with broken trees covering the track in its entirety. Constant sounds of weakened trees screeching, along with crunching of branches and twigs snapping underfoot filled the air. Wading through mud knee deep, climbing through and over fallen forest, continuously losing the track and crossing rivers bare foot for a solid five hours left us hanging out to arrive at the hut. Emotionally and physically exhausted, we were racing against time to get there before dark. Losing the track in perfectly good day light was enough of an indication walking in the dark would be bad!

At times we tried avoiding sections of the track entirely encompassed by mud and water by seeking alternative routes through the storm-stricken forest. Every other time we tried tip toeing over fallen or well-laid branches. However, rarely could the mud be escaped. One foot would sink into the mud with a squelch, followed closely by a slosh as you tried to regain your foot suctioned into the mud. Laughing at our failing attempts, this experience was character building for sure.
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Crossing a river at about the midway point, we took off our shoes, rolled up the pants, linked arms and psyched ourselves up to set foot in the glacial water. What probably took 2 minutes to cross felt like an eternity, my legs quivering from the cold as we made our way methodically across the river. The force of the water great enough to sweep your feet out from beneath you, every step was gradual. Surpassing the urge to run, all I wanted was to get out of the freezing water!

Approaching the hut, sounds of music filled the air. Our hut companion for the night, a French man named Max who had kayaked to the hut, sat on the deck overlooking the pristine lake playing his wooden, hand-crafted flute. Looking out at the peaceful and statue still lake, we soon forgot about any bad feelings about the hike thus far.

We knew mostly what we were in for today, having walked parts of this track on the first day and yesterday. Not too strenuous, relatively flat with only a little bit of mud dodging, we pushed the pace to get back to the car. Both relishing that feeling of comfort – today we were on a track, we knew where we were going and approximately how long it would take us! Touch wood, getting lost should not be an issue. That is wasn’t, as we got to the car after a pretty uneventful day.
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On a side note if you’re ever in Te Anau – we highly recommend the following:

• Splashing out and getting a meal at Redcliffe. The food and wine were top notch.
• Head to the local cinema and watch Fiordland on Film

Google will help you to find these gems; in case it doesn't, the car park is on State Highway 6 a little north of Makarora (you can't miss it). 
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Ben Lomond sits at 1748m right behind Queenstown. It is a challenging but rewarding day walk, taking between 6 - 8 hours depending on which route you take. 

There are two main ways to tackle this climb. You can take the gentler option and grab a scenic ride up the Skyline Gondola, saving yourself a 450 metre (1476 feet) climb up a series of switchbacks but you'll have to fork out for the Gondola, or you can hike from Queenstown itself. 

We started at the bottom of the Gondola, first heading up the Tiki trail at the top of Brecon Street. The track is straight forward up to the saddle, before hitting a steep rocky section to get to the summit. The views from the summit are magnificent - looking out over the lake and southern alps, this makes for a memorable day. 

Make sure you leave early, take loads of food and drink, and have good clothing - it gets pretty cold on the tops! 

Day 1 - Holdsworth Carpark to Powell Hut
The early morning fog loomed as far as we could see, covering the mountain ranges in layers of white and with it, any clue to the climb that lay ahead. Unaware of the vastness surrounding us, we set out for Powell Hut. Loaded with packs looking like bulging water balloons on the brink of bursting; their heaviness apparent with every step. Ella and I making the situation worse, both unable to carry anything, we really were liabilities. Our enthusiasm quickly deterred any doubt we had for our dormant muscles and inferior levels of fitness - it was our first hike in sometime and Paul and Zsu's first in New Zealand. We are back in the wilderness, a place that feeds the soul. 
 
Slogging our way up the mountain, our exhaustion masked by the mystical surrounds. At times we were wandering through a jungle. The trees bendy, their branches looming over the tree-rooted track hidden among the clouds. Mountain Shelter Hut providing the perfect spot to find some energy for what lay ahead. Ladled with stairs, the last section to the hut is steep. Legs wobbling, minds fatiguing, sighs beginning to be heard (mainly at Benny’s constant updates of our slow progress) and stoppages regular. In disbelief the hut could be anywhere near, there it sat. A feeling of relief sweeping over us – we had made it.  

Day 2: Powell Hut - Jumbo Hut via Mt Holdsworth, Angle Knob and Shingle Slip 
Much like the night before, the orange hued rays of sunrise kissed the horizon, filling the sky with mighty colours of red, splashing the few clouds with endless rays of pink. It didn't take long for our weary bodies to feel alive again, soon forgetting the early rise. We gazed out across the salty blue ocean, marvelling over the sight of the South Island in the distance.  
 
Fuelling for the yet-unknown massive day ahead, Rob found himself eating his words in porridge. Exclaiming "it's pretty good thanks Zsu", changing his tune from last night’s moaning of "Noooooooo I hate porridge!". Following the ridgeline from Powell up to the peak of Holdsworth is captivating; the path behind hiding under a canopy of white, and the path ahead providing slight glimpses of the summit. We sat eating scroggin, admiring the views stretching far and wide. The boys spotting a chunk of silver etched into the hillside of the valley facing us. Lucky Benny’s maps weren’t far away and neither Paul’s 4G, fulfilling the curiosity consuming all possible processes. 
 
In a split second, a treasure hunt for the 1955 plane wreckage began. The mission clear; get to the plane wreckage before dark. Striding along the ridgeline towards Jumbo Junction, cloud filled the eastern side up to the ridge while the western side remained clear. My body wearied, my back screaming, longing for a rest and lunch. Whinges fell on deaf ears, as Benny denied a break, continue we must if we want to get to the plane wreckage. There is only so much the comfort cheese and salami pita’s can give; the pain of bush bashing building resilience with each stabbing of a Mountain Daisy spike. Stashing our pack under shrubs a few meters off the main path, we set off on the unbeaten track to find the treasure. Trudging our way atop of Angle Knob, it became apparent the three of the group capable of continuing on down the cliff face, and the three of us needing to begin the trek back.

Beyond Angle Knob is a tale only a few can tell (thankfully living to tell the tale). Turning back heading for our packs, the spikies no longer seemed all that bad. That or in a short time we had nailed the spotting and avoiding strategy. The cloud wearing off and the sun beating down, creating angst in the group. Our palms sweating, mouths dry; would the bare inch of disgusting-smokey Powell Hut water be enough for three humans and a dog? It appeared not; Ella digging holes in the dirt in a desperate bid to find water. Longing to quench our thirst, the sight of our packs brought an overwhelming sense of relief – we had made it once more. 

Day 3 - Jumbo Hut - Holdsworth Carpark 
Hauling on our packs the agony is real with straps digging deeply into our skin; bruising hips and collar bones alike. The unbearable pain, thankfully relinquishing as we furthered our steep and arduous descent to Atiwhakitu Hut. Our well-travelled legs not at all appreciating the toll of the downhill. A solid three hours of climbing down tree roots and rocky faces killed us, testing our already shattered bodies with every step we took. Zsu losing all feeling in a foot and me rolling an ankle. Rob attempting to lift faltering spirits by treating us to a break dancing extraordinaire. His bid definitely successful with laughter echoing in the enchanted forest that surrounded us.
 
Metres from the carpark, arched elegantly over the clear blue water, stood the wired swing bridge separating the lush Taraura Ranges from civilisation. It swung gently in the breeze, creaking with each footstep, petrifying Ella. Losing her footing in a state of fear; her back legs crumbling beneath her, her front legs trembling as they wedged between the wiring of the bridge. Zsu the hero of the day, rescued her in a brief moment. Safe to say her anxiety for swing bridges remains.
 
Many things had not changed since our last adventure – Rob talked smack from start to finish, we ate cheese and salami pitas cooked on the MSR for lunch, Benny continued to waffle on about how great his MSR is, Speed continued as the pace setter, Ella managed to find a stick to play with each time we stopped, our thoughts remained the same; the mountains were home, and until next time, we had made it.