Tramping, as the Kiwis call it, is not exactly the same as what we would call trekking! Why, you will find out during this story.

We had planned our first real tramp near Mount Cook, New Zealand highest mountain. This was however not meant to be as both the weather (storm & snow) and the mountain (a rock avalanche had blocked the path) prevented us from undertaking this journey. Instead we visited the Edmund Hillary Alpine Centre, full of interesting stories and a movie on the one real icon of New Zealand, the man who first set foot on the highest mountain of our planet, Mount Everest.

On Stewart island, a remote island just south of South Island in the middle of the always dangerous waters of the Roaring Forties we accomplished our first multiday hike. And not a regular one! From Invercargill on the Mainland (as South Island Kiwis like to call their South Island) we (the pilot and just the two of us) left in a small 4-person Cessna to fly to Stewart island and land on the beach of Mason Bay, 15km of deserted beach. After a test landing (to see whether we could land safely), which scared the shit out of Sharda (excuse me for my foul mouth, must have become a bit like a Kiwi), we landed on the beach very smoothly. After dumping our backpacks in a deserted hunter's hut (where the pilot said we could sleep if no hunters were present) we spent the day exploring this wonderful beach.

Just before dawn, when we were enjoying the sunset on a large sand dune, and we really felt we were on a deserted island, like Robinson Crusoe, we were rudely interrupted by the noise of a helicopter. The heli landed just 50 meters from our sand dune on the beach, to drop off four hunters, equipment and two dogs. Gone was our romantic evening! Instead we had to walk two hours along the coast to another hut as we had to make place for these by government appointed possum hunters.

In the other hut we were not alone, but we met some nice (and typical South Island Kiwi) people over there. What is a typical South Island Kiwi, I can hear you think? I'll tell you. In the hut we met Grant & Sofie, father and daughter. Grant was a bit rough around the edges and wore a grey beard. He had taken his 14 year old adolescent daughter Sofie for a week of tramping in the bush. As he explained to us what that meant we noticed him ending every sentence with 'aaaei'. Later we would hear many other men and women doing this. A week in the bush means sleeping in one cold bunk room with your fellow trampers (who often snore like hell after a long day of walking), eating dried trekkers food and no shower until back home. Tramping on Stewart Island is even worse, it means walking long days through the mud. And when a Kiwi says mud, you'd better take it seriously, because this can involve being up to your waist into it! I don't think this looks like a trip fathers back home would make with their 14 year old daughters, but Sofie enjoyed it, although she was a bit shy and possibly ashamed, when her father kept on talking and joking in a loud manner. Later when Grant had left the room she started talking with us immediately (especially with Sharda) and asked us many things.

Luckily it hadn't rained that much the prior days so the next morning we only had to tramp through some knee deep mud. After being picked up by a water taxi in the middle of nowhere, we enjoyed a hot shower and some really delicious crayfish in Oban, the only village on the island. The following day we spent on beautiful Ulva island. This is a bird sanctuary, where all possums and other non indigenous animals have been removed and therefore birdlife is abundant.

After having undertaken some nice day walks to Rob Roy glacier in the Mount Aspiring National Park and along the coast in Kaikoura and the Otago peninsula near Dunedin, our next great walk was in the Abel Tasman National Park, named after our fellow country man who first discovered NZ in 1643. After a day of kayaking along the coast and between some lovely seals, we spent the night in Anchorage hut, but not before visiting a small cave full of glowworms. Throughout the country you will find nice walking treks and huts, which taken care of by the Department of Conservation (or DOC, in Dutch we would call it 'Staatsbosbeheer'). These huts are mostly scarcely decorated with some basic wooden tables and benches, an outside long drop toilet and potable water. Cooking utensils, sleeping bags, a stove and food you will have to bring yourself. The Abel Tasman Coastal Trek wanders along the beautiful coast and we came across many marvelous beaches, where we stopped to have a picnic until being sent away by the sandflies. Furthermore we had to be very careful when crossing some of the beaches or inlets as some can only be crossed during low tide or just before and after. Although crossable, we still had to wade through knee deep streams.

After two days of seven hour tramping we were quite keen to return to our Happy Crab to take a hot shower and enjoy a real meal (and a glass of beer or wine or two). Just when we were on our way back in a water taxi to the starting point of our trek the captain got a call over the mar phone that an orca family had been spotted one bay away. The captain did not hesitate for a moment and went there, leaving some other trampers waiting on the beach. This was one of the most amazing sights I ever witnessed; two orca babies and a mother coming really close to our boat. A few minutes later we saw two giant fins (1.5m high) above the water and speeding in our direction. Those were the fathers protecting their family. An incredible experience. Later the captain told us he only saw them a couple of times a year. For the rest of the day we had a big smile on our faces, especially when some angry and cold Germans came on the boat, which had been waiting for us on the cold beach, while we were watching the orcas.

It turned out to be a very lucky day as after three failed attempts to watch Northface (a German movie on the ascent of the Eiger Northface in the Swiss Alps) in the cinema, we finally got to see this good movie. The 2^nd time when we were trying to see the movie in Nelson, a black-out occurred in town and we had to leave the cinema empty handed. But not before we met two fellow Northface cinema goers, who after a talk about trekking and mountaineering gave us their business cards. One of the guys turned out to be the main publisher of trekking books in NZ and the next day gave us two great tramping books to make up for the bad weather we had so far NZ. What an awesome hospitality! Later on the North Island we would use these books for doing the Pinnacles and Cape Brett treks.

At first we were planning to do the Coromandel Coastal Walk on the North Island, but to get to the start of that walk you have to drive 40km on gravel roads. That was no problem; however we discovered that this road was one of only few that we were not allowed to drive due to insurance reasons. So instead we decided to do the Pinnacles Walk. A tough seven hour trek climbing up from about sea level through dense rainforest and over many , many stairs to the summit of the Pinnacles at some 760m. The last part was particularly steep and we had to use both hand and feet to conquer it. On the way up we ran into a group of 14 year old school girls. Many of them turned out to be surprisingly fit and even overtook us. A bit embarrassing when you think you are in good shape....

Our last great tramp was the two day trek to Cape Brett in the beautiful Bay of Islands. Although our book rated it as medium in terms of difficulty, it was actually a very hard 6-7 hour (one way)trek, which I would only recommend to experienced and above average trekkers. We walked up and down through dense forests with occasionally mighty views of the Bay of Islands and after a long day we finally arrived at Cape Brett, which is located at the very end of a 20km long and uninhabited peninsula. At the end of the peninsula just past the beautiful lighthouse we were happy to see the hut. To our (and their) surprise we found five DOC workers renovating the hut. Their foreman told us the hut was actually closed for the week, but luckily let us in to stay there for the night. They turned out to be very nice company. A bit later a small group of outdoor students and their tutors joined as well and we all had a great meal as both the workers and the students had caught a lot of fish that day and invited us to join them. So instead of eating our terrible dried backcountry food we had a feast with red snapper, in a curry, cooked Paua, raw sea urchin, fried snapper, giant mussels in coconut gravy and some nice salad as well. The next day we headed back the same way to pick up our campervan in the front garden of a Maori lady, who for a minor fee had been watching over our Happy Crab during our absence.

And as Sharda had spotted an oyster farm on our way back, we finished the day in style on a nice campground overlooking the Bay of Islands with some fresh, gigantic oysters accompanied by a fine Chardonnay from Hawkes Bay. It may seem like a hard life, but somebody has got to live it!

Jordi & Sharda