Queenstown/Milford Sound

So we arrive at the Queenstown Airport. For those who have traveled internationally, you're familiar with the common rules to prevent unintended agricultural effects (no fruits or vegetables, asking you questions about farm animals you have come into contact with, etc.). Unsurprisingly, in New Zealand, they take this to a whole new level. Given that we had just played in Australian dirt with kangaroos, Nasheed was delightfully and efficiently diverted to a special biosecurity station, where they cleaned her boots to make sure she didn't bring in any unwanted pests. I thought it was pretty cool.

Next, we putzed around for a means to getting into town. We also suspended our commitment to local cuisine by eating an empanada while we waited. Finally, we hopped a SuperShuttle to our hostel, where we were storing our bags for a night while we did an overnight trip to Te Anau and Milford Sound.

Though I have stayed in places with "hostel" in the name, I've never stayed in a true hostel before. This one was, according to Nasheed, exactly what you would expect in terms of people. Basically a bunch of nomadic backpacker-type dudes and dudettes. Lots of "Hey bros" being thrown around. To drop my bags off, I was instructed to grab the key with the red fuzzy monster on it. I think that sentence stands on its own. But here’s a picture anyway.

Next, we went to eat fancy tacos, as one does in New Zealand. More seriously, we had no knowledge or expectation of a "local" cuisine of New Zealand, and the surrounding restaurants didn't give us any indication that one existed. After the meal, we walked down by the Queenstown waterfront. It was a beautiful day, and the shops around us seemed very nice, but I couldn't help but hold a mild disdain. It lacked any sense of local character; it was an Aspen-like crowd, and I honestly heard more American accents than any other type. There were pizza shops, gelato places, steakhouses, and something that looked like a trendy microbrewery. It really felt like an upscale college campus geared for people far more fit than me.

We hopped on our 2.5-hour bus ride to Te Anau. As there were only 6 of us, the bus driver dropped each person off at their own personalized destination, which just struck us as the nicest thing ever (our alternative involved a 10 to 15 minute taxi ride from the bus stop). Along the way, we saw many, many sheep, domesticated deer (yes, they farm them there), and a bunch of cows. Nasheed slept most of the way, but would wake up every now and then to say hi, vowing that on the way back, she would stay awake to see more of the countryside.

Our Airbnb was itself pretty normal, except for the following facts. Nasheed was thrilled that we were provided a full sized shampoo and conditioner. I was thrilled that there was a bunch of free chocolate in the room. And we were both excited that there was farm-fresh milk in the fridge for breakfast the next day. Though we never met the host, he was really friendly, and made sure we knew the beer in the fridge was for us to take if we wanted.

5:45 AM the next day, we're picked up for our trip to Milford Sound. Obviously a struggle for us in terms of staying awake, but at this point, it's not all that important. There were two early-twenty-something Americans in the bus, who were vocally amazed at the dumbest of things. The following phrases were uttered: "OMG, you have that here too?" and "That's just like the U.S." Oy.

We first stop at mirror lake, this really serene, picturesque destination. Everything is just really crisp; it's the kind of place most people would want to enjoy in quiet reflection. Not our fellow travelers. But still a good stop!

Back on the bus. We got through this really cool mountain pass tunnel. Our guide was explaining that the tunnel has the only full time avalanche response crew in the world, and that the road is regularly blocked for days during the winter.

We arrive at Milford Sound, where our first activity is a 2-hour kayak excursion in the sound. After our briefing, we're outfitted as if we are doing some serious kayaking. Stylish base layer and all.

The kayaking ended up at around 2.5 hours. I would describe it as leisurely, and yet, consistent with Nasheed's and my overestimation of our physical talents, we were tired by the end and tied for "worst" kayak in the group. Nasheed was stiff the next day. Our group was pretty eclectic, including an Irish family and a couple from Washington state where the husband was between rounds of a very serious golf tournament. Our instructor, Olive, was pretty awesome: an actual New Zealander, and incredibly knowledgeable and friendly. Milford Sound itself was gorgeous, and kayaking really was a good way to see it. Fun fact: Milford Sound is not actually a sound, it's a fiord. Another fun fact: New Zealanders spell fiord wrong (it's fjord).

We have even better pictures elsewhere!

During the kayaking, we saw paradise ducks, which have several notable mating habits. First, they're monogamous, which is always amusing in nature. If the female duck dies, the male duck starves himself till he dies. They call it death from heartbreak -- how cute is that? Of course, if the male dies, the woman just moves on and finds another mate.

After our kayaking was done, we got on board a small cruise boat to see more of the sound. This was definitely a different crowd. Tour buses abounded. Instagram photos were taken all over. We received a fantastic boxed lunch, which was adorably filled with only locally produced New Zealand products.

The boat trip itself was great. The captain did this fun trick where he explained that we would go up to a waterfall to fill glasses of water with natural Milford Sound water and invited guests to go out on deck where the glasses were being held. We knew what was coming, and since we were tired from kayaking, just stayed inside. It seems like way too many people didn't get it. As we got closer to the waterfall, as one might expected, the people got drenched. That was pretty fun to watch too. We also saw some very happy looking seals, and I got to delight another foreign baby with funny faces (this one was Argentinian).

When we get off the boat, we're looking for our bus in a sea of buses. It's worth noting that we had sort of McGyvered this trip to work out, meaning that the bus company we took to get to the kayaking center/ sound cruise was not the same bus company we were taking back to Queenstown. It's also worth noting that we had a limited time to find our bus, and if we missed it, we would have been totally screwed. There was no other way back to Queenstown that night, which meant we couldn't make our flight, and travel chaos would ensue.

Luckily, none of that happened. Our bus driver identified us immediately and though he told us not to board the bus yet, also promised he would not leave without us. Pauly was delighfully chipper. Basically, envision Ron Howard with a New Zealand accent, look and all. On the way back, he gave a director's cut on the scenery, played a movie starring Anthony Hopkins as a Kiwi, and talked about and showed his own home video of him and his friends base jumping.

Back in Queenstown, we are hungry, tired, and lacking a desire to explore. So we ate at a place called Devil Burger right next store, where we got a vension burger and a lamb burger. We check in at the hostel, and because we're so tired and have to wake up early the next day, we go to sleep at around 8:30 PM. Right outside our window is a strip of bars playing house oontz oontz music at a comically loud volume. Like, so loud that if you turned your computer speakers up all the way now, it still wouldn't be as loud as it was in our room. Mind you, it's still daylight and a Thursday. Laughing it off, we watched some more Crown (so good!) before going to sleep. Neither of us had a problem passing out, even with the noise. (We learn later that earplugs were available from the front desk).

We woke up at 4:30ish the next morning. The music is still going. About 30 minutes before we intended to leave for the airport, our supershuttle cancelled on us. We used the local version of uber instead, where we were driven by a nice but possibly Trump-supporting kiwi who liked to talk politics. He told us that Queenstown has always been a tourist destination, even for New Zealanders, which made me feel a bit better about its total lack of distinct cultural identity.

The rest of our tale is one of completely unremarkable airport and flight experiences. We go to the airport 2 hours before the flight left, which is becoming an odd trend for people who have before made their flights by only 45 seconds. Our flight to Auckland was interesting because we had the front seats, but there was no bulkhead so we could watch everything the flight attendants were doing. Proving that New Zealanders are just nicer, because we were arriving an hour late, the attendants permitted the transferring passengers to actually wait up at the front of the plane so they could depart first. And the other passengers actually let this system work.

In Auckland, we didn't leave the airport, and instead stayed for about 5 hours in a luxurious Strata Lounge. Many meals and desserts were had. The walk from the domestic terminal to the international terminal is sort of strange because you have to go outside and take a 15-minute walk along a green line that brings you through numerous airlines operations sites (like employee parking and the cargo operations centers). While going through security, I twice asked questions to Nasheed that strangers heard and were spontaneously helpful (e.g., something about whether we needed to remove our laptops and the direction of the gates).

Next stop, Tahiti. Game on.