Christmas on Kilimanjaro – Bring on the Mountain!

As I await my flight this evening to Tanzania, I feel like a university student about to take a major exam, knowing I've done everything I can to prepare. Now, it's just a question of how my body responds to Kilimanjaro.

Will I succumb to serious altitude sickness ascending to 19,341 feet (5,895 meters)? Will my ankle – which has troubled me for decades after having it wrapped in casts twice over a four-year period  – hold up to the daily grind of 6+ hours of hiking?

These are the unknowns for which I can't prepare. Last week, I was reminded of the randomness of life, the middle-of-the-night moments we never see coming. While walking through a classroom assisting kids working on iPads, I didn't notice the large container that's used to store the computers.

The next thing I knew I found myself sprawled on the floor with blood flowing out of my swelling leg, enduring the incredulous stares of two fifth graders whose faces seemed to say, "This guy is going up Kilimanjaro?" It reminded me of one of Chevy Chase's skits on "Saturday Night Live," although I certainly wasn't trying to be funny. Afterward, all I could think about was how ludicrous it would have been if a large hunk of plastic ended my summit attempt before it even began.

Despite my embarrassing tumble, I'm confident and eager to begin my hike. I want to thank all of you who've already offered me words of encouragement. On Friday, I teared up reading a note from my school's human relations manager, who said, "I know that you will represent us." I guess I'm getting sentimental with age.

Have a terrific holiday! Look for my posts after the New Year.

Christmas on Kilimanjaro

Mt. Kilimanjaro, Tanzania – Courtesy of Chris 73/Wikimedia Commons

I guess it's true that time heals all wounds because I'm getting ready to do another tortuous trek, this time to the top of Africa's tallest mountain – Kilimanjaro, standing 19,340 feet above sea level (5,895 meters).

After hiking to Everest Base Camp two years ago, I vowed to leave such long-distance, high-altitude endeavors alone. Somehow, I've managed to forget the daily six-hour plus uphill climbs, aching limbs, struggling to breath, battling the intense cold.

Now all I remember is the pristine beauty of the Himalayas. I tell myself Everest wasn't that bad. How hard can another high-altitude assault really be? I'm in Zimbabwe. I'm 51 years old. I might as well do it.

Enter Tanzania's Mt. Kilimanjaro.

Assuming all goes as planned, I'll begin my hike on December 21, summit on Christmas, and be back down the mountain 24 hours later. It's a six-day trip covering roughly 50 miles (80 kilometres).

There are several paths up the world's highest, free-standing mountain. I've chosen the Marangu route, which is supposedly easier due to the more gradual and steady ascent. The biggest attraction for me is huts for accommodation, rather than tents. I've never been a camper, and I'm not going to start now.

However, there's a huge downside – the odds of summiting are far less than the other routes because of a shorter acclimatisation period. Hikers gain altitude faster along Marangu, meaning there's a greater possibility of altitude sickness.

According to The Merck Manual of Diagnosis and Therapy, about 20% of those journeying above 8,000 feet will experience some symptoms of altitude sickness – shortness of breath, headache, dizziness, nausea, fatigue. The number jumps to 40% if one goes above 10,000 feet.

I'm sure I'll encounter a bit of altitude-related problems, like I did on Everest; however, hikers can also develop life-threatening forms of altitude sickness: cerebral edema and pulmonary edema. In these situations, a person has to get to a lower altitude immediately. Fortunately, such reactions only occur in about one percent of the population.

Physically, I feel ready for the trip, but I have no idea how my body will react to the altitude. It varies from person to person and even from one trip to the next. A couch potato might make it to the summit with ease while a world-class athletes be overwhelmed by the altitude.

I'm crossing my fingers that the mountain gods won't randomly strike me down with serious altitude sickness. The best way to avoid it is to hike slowly, which I mastered in Nepal with my grandpa-like pace.

Overall, about 65% of climbers reportedly make it to the top of Kilimanjaro, although the park service puts the number closer to 45%. Altitude sickness is the number one factor standing in the way of success. The other major challenge is mental, especially with the rapidly-changing weather as hikers move through five major ecological zones. A trek can begin with sunny skies and temperatures around 90 degrees Fahrenheit, but it rains often, and at the summit, temperatures may drop to 20 degrees below zero.

As with my hike to Everest Base Camp, I will record all of my thoughts in a journal and then transfer them directly to my blog after I return. Even if I don't make it to the top, I'll share my unedited reflections. What I write on the mountain is what you'll read on my blog.

I feel I've done everything I can to prepare. Still, while you open presents on Christmas, I would appreciate any and all positive thoughts as I, hopefully, am heading toward the summit.

A Teaching First

After teaching for 15 years on three continents, I thought I'd seen everything, until yesterday when a third grader took me by surprise.

I asked the children to write about their upcoming holiday. A precocious girl handed me her work with a note at the bottom, asking me to turn over the paper.

This is what I found – an assignment for the teacher.

Zimbabwe Watery Blessing

Harare, Zimbabwe

I'd been looking forward to the Saturday outing for days when the rain began to fall, slowly at first, then turning into a downpour. My activity would have to wait. Back in America, I'd curse my bad luck, but this is Africa. I couldn't have been happier.

Rain isn't an inconvenience in Zimbabwe. It's a saviour.

Life is difficult enough in Zimbabwe under the best of circumstances – unemployment perpetually hovering around 90%, widespread disease such as malaria and AIDS, a crumbling infrastructure and economy.

To make matters worse, the country is in the midst of the worst drought in decades, putting millions of people at risk of starvation. Rain – or a lack of it – literally determines life or death in Zimbabwe.

Earlier in the week, my groundskeeper/security guard Shadreck shared his fears about whether the crops he planted behind my house would make it. Growing food isn't a hobby for most. It's a necessity.

In 2002, Shadreck and his family faced another severe drought while living in the countryside. "It was so bad we had to let our animals die so we would have enough water to survive," he said. Both of Shadreck's elderly parents perished in the drought, a fact he shared sullenly, before immediately brightening up and switching to another topic. Several Zimbabwean authors I've read say with the amount of tragedy in the country people have to learn to let things go or they'd go insane.

And so on Saturday, rather than bemoaning the rain, I found myself outside celebrating with Shadreck – two grown men chatting giddily in the rain unconcerned about getting drenched.

African Alternative to President Trump

It became all too real as I watched Trump deliver his victory speech, transforming The Donald from real-estate mogul/entertainer/political oddity to president-elect of the United States of America, arguably the most powerful position on Earth.

Even though Hillary Clinton received, at last count, almost 800,000 more votes than Trump, she gracefully conceded, emphasizing that the electorate had made its choice and that the rules governing the Electoral College system must be followed and respected.

Even though his Democratic party would now lose control of the White House after such a tight race, President Obama – the commander and chief of the armed forces – didn't mobilize troops to block the Republican victory but, instead, called to congratulate Trump.

Even though half of the U.S. population might loathe the fact that Trump in two months will be sworn in as the 45th president, there's no question it will happen.

Tuesday's election is yet another reminder of the extraordinary way in which U.S. presidential power flows seamlessly from one administration to the next.

This often isn't the case in Africa, where several post-colonial leaders clung to power until being overthrown or buried. It's a continent where unfavorable election results are ignored, manipulated in behalf of the incumbent, or erased with violence, although elections are often just a formality with the numerous one-party "democracies."

The emperor of Ethiopia ruled for 44 years. Muammar Gaddafi remained in control of Libya for 42 years. Both men were eventually ousted by coups. Currently, nine African heads of state have led their countries for 22 years or more. 

The U.S. electoral system is far from perfect, but I'll gladly accept it over the African alternative.

What Not to Do in Africa - Part 2

I believe in public transportation because I don't believe in the notion that everyone needs a car, although in America it's hard to get by without one because most cities and states haven't made a commitment to mass transit.

The car situation is different abroad. I relish the opportunity to climb on a bus or ride the rails as my primary means of transportation.

When I decided to visit Cape Town, friends told me I must rent a car. I knew I'd get by fine without one, with the exception of visiting the wine country of Stellenbosch – a distance of about 32 miles.

Late in my vacation, I tried to find wine tours headed to Stellenbosch, but the one I wanted was full, leaving me looking at a two-hour train ride.

I've always loved trains. Normally, I'd jump at the chance to take a train, but I read that isn't the best idea from Cape Town because of widespread reports of assaults and robberies, many of them involving knives or guns.

Everyone agreed the Cape Town to Stellenbosch route at night was out of the question, but opinion varied about daytime trips. Some said it wasn't a problem, while others called it foolish, at best, especially for tourists.

Having utilized public transportation all over the world, I'm used to the horror stories, none of which ever match up with reality, so I bought a first-class ticket and was on my way.

Supposedly, I was riding in the best section, but the cars were covered with graffiti and the seats in general disrepair. No tourists or security were in sight. In 2015, such lack of security and the escalating crime rate prompted a trade union to threaten train-worker strikes if the situation didn't improve.

While living in New York City, one of the rules I learned riding the subway is there's usually safety in numbers. With each passing station out of Cape Town, more passengers departed, leaving behind just a handful of riders, most of whom eyed me with curiosity or outright suspicion. It was obvious I wasn't from around those parts.

I had taken precautions. I carried a copy of my passport, rather than the real thing; left my cellphone behind; and had little cash in my pocket. Still, I wondered if I'd made a serious mistake taking the train.

My nervousness grew. Finally, the word I longed to see - Stellenbosch.

I had overreacted. The stories of gloom and doom were, once again, overblown.

After enjoying an afternoon at the vineyards, I headed back to the station, carrying an elegant bag with my newly purchased bottle of wine. I plopped down on a platform bench, hoping to remain nondescript – a tall order, considering the wine bottle and my out-of-towner appearance.

A woman sat down next to me, murmuring some kind of tribal language. Occasionally, I heard the word "Jesus," as well as a bit of singing.

Another lesson I learned in New York City is to avoid making eye contact on subways, no matter how strange the behavior. Eye contact is likely to cause the person engaging in the strange behavior to confront the person who is staring.

I gazed into the distance but couldn't help notice she was now talking to me. Worse, she seemed to want a response. I ignored her.

She became agitated. I ignored her. Eventually, she threw up her arms in disgust, walking down the platform. I relaxed, but it was a short-lived reprieve because a couple of minutes later she returned, got up in my face, and started screaming.

All conversation on the platform ceased. All eyes turned in our direction. I waited helplessly for what would happen next, but almost as quickly as she exploded into rage, the storm subsided, and she, again, walked away.

Now, I had my opportunity to escape. I turned to a woman remaining on the bench. "I think I'd better move," I said. She agreed. Before leaving, I asked the woman if she knew what my friend had been screaming about. "No, I think she's sick."

Once the train arrived, I sprinted to the first-class car, hoping the woman wouldn't return. She never did, but soon a new oddity appeared.

By this point, I was well into New York mode – I put on my sunglasses to avoid any eye contact. I leaned my head against the window and acted like I was asleep.

My new friend sat down in a seat across the aisle. He smiled, gave a thumbs-up, shook his head up and down, and stared at another male passenger in front of him. Apparently, the passenger was also a train veteran because he, too, stared out the window, ignoring the scene unfolding in front of him.

Fonzie wouldn't be put off so easily. Five minutes later, he went through the same routine. Again, no response. The miles passed, interrupted by his unrelenting thumb-ups, head shakes, and smiles. No matter what Fonzie did he got no reactions, until he added one more item to his list – smile, thumbs-up, head bob, and ... reaching out to touch his fellow passenger on the knee.

The passenger didn't waste any time. He calmly stood up – still never making eye contact – turned around, and walked to another car. Fonzie had won, but he didn't have much time to celebrate because within a few minutes he fell asleep.

Aside from a few teenage school children running back and forth through the cars, I arrived back in Cape Town without incident, grateful for a safe journey and vowing never to take local commuter trains in South Africa again. Yes, I know nothing bad happened, but my two encounters were too much for me.

I'm still a believer in public transportation; however, sometimes, it pays to listen to the locals.

Spring in Cape Town

Cape Town, South Africa - October, 2016

Cape Town, South Africa, has consistently been called one of the most beautiful cities on Earth. It's hard to disagree.

Cape Town is nestled in a bowl, surrounded by the 3,500-foot Table Mountain.






The majestic view is ever changing with ocean breezes blowing clouds and mist back and forth over the mountain,

leaving behind a lush landscape that's home to abundant wildlife.






These same cool, moist breezes help create an ideal environment for growing grapes used in some of the finest wines in the world.

The vineyards, as well as many of the city's sights, can easily be accessed via Cape Town's Hop-on/Hop-off bus.

Cape Town is an outdoor lover's paradise, featuring beaches, bicycling, and hiking. One popular option is a trek up Table Mountain, itself, or for those less inclined, a cable car whisks visitors to the top in four-to-five minutes.

I had planned to take the easy way up, but gale force winds eliminated that possibility. Instead, I hiked to the summit, allowing my ego to overrule common sense, as I did my best to keep up with a German student 30 years my junior.

My legs ached for days, but the view was worth it.

If it's animals you want, a short, scenic drive along the coast leads to Hout Bay

– home to a seal colony







 

– as well as nearby Simon's Town, with its penguins.








Within two hours, the road ends – and the actual continent ends – at Cape Point.

That's where you'll find the Cape of Good Hope, the most south-western spot in Africa.

The fierce winds ripping at my shirt demonstrate in small part why this is one of the world's most dangerous coasts for ships.
Many a vessel has met its demise attempting to sail around the tip of Africa.












You'll also likely run into additional exotic animals like ostriches.

No trip to Cape Town would be complete without a stop to Robben Island. The apartheid government locked up Nelson Mandela here for 18 of his 27 years in prison.

The future Noble Peace Prize winner, and later president of South Africa, lived in this seven-foot-square cell.

Mandela slept on the floor, used a bucket for a toilet, and was forced to do hard labor in a quarry.

There's no shortage of activities in Cape Town, and you won't go hungry, sampling cuisine from around the planet.

Finally, you can't beat the price. The South African currency is at a multi-year low, meaning your dollars or euros will go a lot farther.

African Creatures Large and Small

Before moving to Zimbabwe, a friend who once worked in the region offered me a bit of advice – no structure can completely shut out Africa.

Which is why I wasn't surprised to discover some colorful creatures sharing the grounds of our school campus.






And sometimes even wandering inside classrooms and onto desks.

Before, I had to pay to see such creatures. Now they come to see me, often hoping to partake of my lunch.

But there's an occasional downside to life with sub-Saharan creatures.

It's not uncommon for me to wake up and find a swarm of ants occupying my bedroom.








It's all just part of being an international teacher.

What Not to Do in Africa

Part of the inculturation process is learning what to do in a new land. It's equally important to learn what not to do, such as my mistake of interacting with soldiers outside the president of Zimbabwe's official residence.

I moved to Zimbabwe to delve into the culture, and so, last month, set off on my bicycle to explore Harare's downtown. The center of town is what one would expect in an African capital city – crowded, chaotic, and filled almost entirely with locals, unlike the suburb where I live, which is filled with Westerners.

After an hour or so of peddling, I found myself approaching the State House, home of President Mugabe.  I'd been warned that one of the adjacent streets is closed to motorists 12 hours a day, but I understood bicycles and pedestrians are allowed, although now I know there are some crucial caveats.

On the corner, I spotted two soldiers guarding an exterior wall of the State House compound. Throughout my ride, I greeted people I met along the way. Soldiers are people too, so I slowed down for a second to say hello.

The soldiers didn't seem to want to chat; however, one did instruct me to ride my bicycle up the bike path. Friendly enough. I thanked him and continued my journey. A couple of minutes later I passed two sharply-dressed guards, waved at them, and wished them a happy Sunday morning. If I'm not mistaken, I think one laughed.

Later, I peddled back down the bike path, stopped at the corner with the original soldiers I met, and asked if I could ride down a path directly in front of the walls of the compound.

"That's prohibited," one replied, and pointed me to the opposite side of the road. I thanked him, waved, and was off.

I don't go out of my way to socialize with people guarding the residences of heads of state, but I always like to be friendly, and I assumed that a 51-year-old foreigner on a Mary Poppins bike wouldn't be perceived as a threat.

I didn't think much about my bicycling encounter until the next day when I casually mentioned it to a veteran teacher.

Her eyes grew big. "Are you crazy?" She then asked me to share my story with a Zimbabwean, who just shook her head, reiterating the teacher's reaction. Later, my principal also suggested I avoid making friends outside the State House. They all told me that the guards have a reputation for being quite strict, especially toward locals.

I didn't know how strict until this weekend when I shared my bicycle adventure with my gardener, Shadreck.

"No, no, no," he said. "Never talk to the soldiers."

According to Shadreck, it's prohibited to even stop along that section of road. "Do not stop your bike. Do not say hello. Keep riding until you get way past," he said.

To make matters worse, I've since read that waving one's open palm in a certain manner is a gesture of protest used by one of the opposition parties.

"Wave at anyone you meet in Harare," said Shadreck, "but don't wave at soldiers outside the State House. Please!"

Shadreck told me I probably managed to avoid incident because it was obvious that I was a "confused foreigner" who didn't know any better,  but he said a person can easily be "punished" for any perceived indiscretions near the State House, punishments of the monetary or physical variety.

I certainly meant no disrespect to anyone and have now learned as part of my Zimbabwean inculturation process that it's best to avoid exchanging pleasantries with anyone passing by or guarding President Mugabe's house.

Zimbabwe Protests

Zimbabwe normally doesn't garner a lot of worldwide media coverage, but lately that's changing with some of the largest anti-government protests in Zimbabwe in decades.

Last week, demonstrators marched twice through downtown Harare, resulting in violent clashes between protestors and police, as well as numerous arrests.

I'm not sure how the incidents are being portrayed in the West; however, I can assure everyone that I'm far removed from the unfolding events. I work in the northern suburbs, while the demonstrations have been occurring a few miles away in the capital's central business district.

My embassy, as well as my employer, provide frequent updates on the political situation in Zimbabwe. Over the years, I've gained a bit of wisdom traveling abroad. If the climate deteriorates precipitously, I promise that I will chose a prudent course of action.

Locked Away in Zimbabwe

My passion is traveling the planet attempting to engage in common, everyday life , but now I find myself hidden behind walls, walls topped by razor wire and electrodes.

Walls are erected to keep out perceived evils. So far, I've found none. What I have found each day as I leave my world of isolation and walk to school are smiling children, friendly domestic workers sharing a cheerful mangwanani (Good morning), bicyclists waving to me.

The passersby don't appear to be a threat. They don't seem to want to do me harm.

Yes, crime has risen in recent years in Zimbabwe due to a lack of employment and decades of hopelessness brought on by global structures that oppress many to benefit few. Are the unemployed my enemy? Are they the reason I need to live behind concrete and steel?

My colleagues and I have been placed in multi-bedroom fortresses, which devour natural resources. Walls don't build relationships. Walls are a physical and symbolic impediment telling the community to stay away. A wall says I want to protect my status, to maintain a lifestyle reminiscent of Zimbabwe's colonial past.

Each night I walk back from work – again receiving the well-wishes of pedestrians – step through my gate, and return to my world of isolation, shut away from the very culture I moved here to experience.

A First Glimpse of Africa

Imire Game Park, Zimbabwe

I've left behind the asphalt, the designer outlets, and the hustle and bustle of Singapore for the rich cultures, the savannahs, and the wildlife of Africa.

This week I moved to Zimbabwe to begin a new teaching assignment at Harare International School.

When I made the decision to come to Africa, some of my colleagues and friends thought I was crazy because I'd be "roughing it" in Harare, the capital of Zimbabwe.

Don't worry. So far, I've found just the opposite to be true.

Zimbabwe certainly has it share of challenges, but - as I've already discovered - you can't believe a lot of what's written in the papers.

Classes begin in a couple of weeks. Meanwhile, the school has been making us feel quite welcome. Today, we visited the Imire game park near the capital. Harare is a city of 1.4 million people, but it just requires a couple of hours of driving to find oneself in the bush, sharing company ...

with creatures I'd previously seen only in zoos, although at times ...

it was a bit intimidating being this close to animals ...

like rhinos.









I think I'm going to like it here.

Outdoor Options Galore in Queenstown

Queenstown, New Zealand

Queenstown is New Zealand's main center for adventure sports, offering such activities as hiking, skydiving, bungee jumping, mountain biking, and boating. It's also a great place to keep young kids entertained for a few days.

Many New Zealanders complain its become overrun by tourists, so don't wait until the last minute to secure accommodations. I paid a lot more than I wanted because I thought I could just show up and find something.

Queenstown, itself, wasn't my favorite place because of the throng of visitors, but as with every other stop in New Zealand,

a scenic hike lay nearby.








just minutes outside the city.

I checked out the Ben Lomond Summit Track – a six-to-eight hour, seven-mile round trip. I discovered firsthand how quickly the weather can change in New Zealand.

I left in sunshine but a couple of hours later found myself in heavy fog,

followed by rain and snow.







Make sure you bring gear for all possibilities before venturing into the mountains.

I can't say enough about the friendliness of New Zealanders.

I found these at the beginning of my hike – a walking stick, as well as sunglasses and a hat,

seemingly for anyone to use.









In America, it's called "trail magic." Along the Appalachian Trail, well wishers sometimes perform random acts of kindness for the hikers, such as leaving fruit behind.

Since Queenstown is so popular, expect prices here to be a bit higher than elsewhere in New Zealand.

One of the hardest parts about visiting New Zealand is deciding what to see because there are so many beautiful spots.

Wherever you end up, expect to find some great, outdoor adventures and some of the nicest, most helpful people on Earth.

Majestic Mount Cook

Mt. Cook, New Zealand

You're looking at New Zealand's highest mountain. Mount Cook stands at 12,218 feet (3724 meters).

Sir Edmund Hillary – the first person to climb Mt. Everest – trained here for his epic, alpine achievement.

The mountain is part of the 435-square-mile Aoraki Mount Cook National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage Sight.

Accommodations are limited and should be booked well in advance, but many bus lines stop here for a few hours along the route from Queenstown to Christchurch. It's well worth a visit on any tour of the South Island.


Next Destination: Options Galore in Queenstown

Star Gazing at Lake Tekapo

Lake Tekapo, New Zealand

The village of Lake Tekapo is little more than a handful of buildings scattered along the highway between Queenstown and Christchurch, but as with most of New Zealand, the highlight is the outdoors.

Some come to admire the Southern Alps or swim in these glacial waters, but eventually everyone wanders down to this idyllic church

nestled on the shores of the lake









to witness what happens after the sun goes down.

Courtesy of www.newzealand.com

The atmospheric conditions, as well as the absence of light pollution, provide some of the best star gazing on Earth.







This is just a glimpse of what you'll find on any clear night, a sight of such radiance that it's hard to believe it's real.

The village is also said to have some of the cleanest air in the Southern Hemisphere, all of which make Lake Tekapo a great stop for a couple of days of relaxation on a tour of New Zealand's South Island.

Used with permission from Wikimedia Commons
Author: Paul Bica

Oamaru and the Moeraki Boulders

Oamaru, New Zealand

Oamaru owes it's Victorian splendor to the 1800s, when the town was a flourishing port

and railroad center.









When the port closed in the 1970s, Oamaru fell on hard times. The town reinvented itself by embracing it's architectural heritage.




  Tourists soon
  followed to
  experience the
  charm




                                             and to view two penguin colonies

Used With Permission from Wikimedia Commons
Author: Richard Giddins

                                                 along the nearby shores.

An hour away you'll find the famous Moeraki Boulders.

Over 60 million years ago, the almost spherical structures were formed on the ocean floor, before becoming encapsulated in cliffs next to the beach.

Over time,
the cliffs eroded ...







and out popped the other-worldly boulders.

Next Stop: One of the best places on Earth for stargazing.

Magnificent Milford Sound

Milford Sound is New Zealand's most famous destination, and it's easy to understand why.

The highlight of any visit is a cruise alongside cliffs towering in spots more than 5,000 feet above the sea.

But there's also plenty to do on land.

Two of New Zealand's multi-day, "Great Walks" wind through the area – the Routeburn Track and the Milford Track.





A couple of hours away you'll find another scenic gem,

      Te Anau.









with its own Great Walk – the Kepler Track.

and the landscape between Te Anau and Milford Sound is an attraction in itself.

Even the most seasoned traveler can't help but be impressed.



ACCOMMODATIONS

The only place to stay in Milford Sound is the Milford Sound Lodge, which fills up weeks, if not months in advance.

Most guests choose to stay in Te Anau, where there are plenty of accommodations for all budgets. It's also possible to drive in for the day from Queenstown, which is about four hours away.


MILFORD CRUISES

Several agencies offer cruises, so there's no need to book ahead. The majority of the trips last one-to-two hours. The cost is about $50 USD.


WEATHER

The best word to describe the weather in Milford Sound is unpredictable. It receives up to 23 feet of rain a year – the second highest amount in the world behind only the mountains of Tahiti.

I met a New Zealander who told me several years ago he visited the Milford Sound area for a week, and it only rained twice: once for three days and the other time for four.

But where there is rain there
are also waterfalls.







There are so many outdoor activities to choose from in New Zealand. One of the best is simply admiring the view.

Next Stop: Oamaru