Stewart Island

The ferry from Bluff, where we'd left the van in security parking, to Stewart Island only took an hour, and was a nice smooth crossing on another lovely day. I got to see lots of albatross flying about, mostly trailing fishing vessels looking for scraps.

On arrival we checked out hikes and bike rental at the tourist office, but the island has very few roads and most of them are very steep, so bikes didn't seem a great idea. So we dropped our bags at our hostel, which was really just a local guy's house. There was nobody there when we arrived, but the front door was wide open, and a note told us which room was ours. The whole place was pretty run down really, with dirty dishes in the kitchen and a half eaten breakfast left on the kitchen table. Our bedroom was pretty grim too, but actually when we got back later that evening we were told our room had changed and our new room was lovely, and had a fantastic view of the harbour.

So we spent the whole of that first day hiking a few of the island's short trails, and they were lovely, passing through deserted beaches and native forests. The island is famous for it's bird life, including the best opportunity to spot wild kiwis apparently, although you need to get well off the beaten track for a chance to spot them. We did come across a group of three weka's though picking away at a small carcass, and at first we did think they might be kiwis, as they're quite large and flightless.

That evening we had a great seafood dinner in the main hotel at the harbour (there aren't many choices really, as the island's harbour town of Oban is very small), and had a drink or two chatting to a nice local guy who was originally Samoan, and who had the weirdest cackling laugh.

The next morning started with drizzly rain, and we got chatting to an English girl Rachel staying at our hostel. She was a pretty serious tramper (New Zealand term for hiking), and had already completed the island's Great Walk (New Zeland has 9 famous multi-day hiking trails). That hike took her 5 days, where you have to carry all your own water, food and cooking equipment, with just basic huts along the route for shelter. I'm always impressed with people like this girl who head off on their own on such adventures, and she told us specifically of how those hikes had really improved her self-image and self-confidence - no lying down and just accepting all the usual dictates of the 'Machine' for her (i.e. get a job, settle down, have kids, blah, blah...) - fair play to her I reckon. I really like the idea of coming back to New Zealand one day to specifically hike a couple of the more famous Great Walks (I've done half-day treks into a couple of the Walks on this trip, but you all the equipment to tackle a full Walk).

Anyway, the drizzle seemed persistent, so after visiting the small but interesting local museum and having breakfast with Rachel, we were going to try and change our return ferry journey to an earlier time. But after breakfast the weather had cleared up a good bit, and so we decided to do some more hiking instead. Again the trails were lovely, this time getting great lookout points out to sea, and back along more deserted beaches.

Then after collecting our bags and using the internet for a bit, it was the late afternoon ferry back to the mainland, grab the van and drive back to the Southern Cross hostel in Invercargill for the night before moving on towards Manapouri.