Friday

Every time I write about us going on some trip I have to put the disclaimer about covid cautious behavior. Yes, we ate outside every time (except for planes which require a hold breath, bite/drink, exhale, remask procedure, which sounds ridiculous but it’s that or no water for 13 hours). Yes, masks everywhere. Yes, including airport and all planes. No, the photos with the masks down doesn’t mean they were permanently down; we held our breath for photos (indoors). Masking was also a necessity in outdoor groups. Something interesting that happened on this particular trip (actually we noticed this on the London and Paris subways too) was the proliferation of folks in these crowds with a horrible sounding cough. There seemed to always be at least one person in every crowd that was suffering from something, and Sam and I were the only people to quickly and quietly slink away from the crowd even though we’d usually already be masked. It’s bizarre to me how quickly everyone in the world fell back into a state of obliviousness about infectious diseases. Although, again, I remind myself that almost everyone (older folks excluded) had zero experience with long term health issues before covid, and now in what they consider “post pandemic” they are delighted to go back to that feeling of supposed superhuman immunity from all pathogens. (meanwhile they all privately complain about getting sick more than they used to and look everywhere but the obvious for the culprit)

“Why are you making covid part of your personality?”

Do you feel this way about people that put on seat belts? Isn’t it really the folks who keep getting sick that are making it part of their personality? If you deliberately drive around without wearing a seat belt, you’re voluntarily deciding to take on (what rational people would deem an) unnecessary risk. Sort of like smoking. As a non-smoker, is that now “part of my personality” that I don’t want lung cancer instead of the insistent smoker complaining about their emphysema and bad breath? Avoidance means I DON’T want that thing to be part of me in any way (personality, body, mind, etc.). All of the folks “getting sick all the time” seem to talk about it more than me (though you must not say it’s name!!!). But I’ve digressed from describing a vacation….which is why anyone’s here at all.

I’ll put one more covid note in to say that the only masking we observed (except for a lot in the hospital) was by Asian tourists. Easing back into Los Angeles life later the appearance of maskers in grocery stores, etc. seemed like “a lot” (even though it’s maybe 5%) compared to the almost zero at any grocery store or indoor space in New Zealand. The number of maskers waiting to get on our flight BACK to LAX was much more than the folks leaving LAX or getting on and off domestic flights within New Zealand. I presume this is a function of New Zealand’s famous delayed initial Covid 2020 onset, rough outdoorsman traditions, and probably much lower spread from being an island. Los Angeles is a world hub with a gigantic population, enabling incredibly easy spread of airborne viruses. New Zealand not so much. The country has a small spread out population. Even the amount of tourists during the “peak” summer season was dramatically lower than that of any US National Park. And by dramatically I mean we’d sometimes show up at waterfalls and be the only people there. That would be unheard of even in winter at Yosemite or Yellowstone. There wouldn’t be zero infectious disease spread in a country like New Zealand, but variants would certainly slow their spread, allowing greater immunization from vaccination. In other words, vaccination immunity would get out ahead of actual virus exposure, which other countries like the U.S. are struggling to achieve because of decreased utilization and rapid spread for each subsequent variant. And as a country New Zealand had less “vaccine skepticism” and had higher rates of vaccination overall than the United States, slowing the progress of initial infections and variants. Being farther and harder to get to for Americans probably slowed the spread of covid via tourists as well after our “let er rip” policies came into effect.

Okay, so disclaimer and covid observations out of the way I have to admit that before we left for this trip we may have broken our own rules. Sort of.

The weekend before we left we visited a local fish taco restaurant with a large outdoor seating area. We’d gone there many times and feel it’s probably the best fish tacos in Los Angeles. It was empty when we arrived except for a man with a mask at another table. At first we felt reassured by the mask (working class Angelenos are masking more now as they can’t afford to be out of work due to illness), but that faded as we heard the dude start eating, and talking on the phone, and coughing. And coughing more. And coughing up phlegm.

In the next week we both felt differing symptoms, took multiple covid tests, none of which came up positive. But something had been “in the air” at the taco shop. We have now agreed on a new rule (one that we’ve long asked my parents to abide by before their visits, so perhaps we were hypocrites): no eating out in public, even outside, 10 days before a trip.

By Friday I was going to the bathroom a lot. Like enough to make an emergency trip to Target for a certain pink bottle. I consoled myself to the fact that flights are miserable anyway, and, unless it was a serious infection, this “stomach bug” (which did not test positive for covid, but I brought 5 rapid tests in our luggage anyway) would resolve in a few days and I’d still have nearly two weeks to enjoy New Zealand.

Weeks ago I’d talked to an online rep at Air New Zealand about our luggage. Our first leg of the trip would take us from LAX to Auckland and then transfer for a domestic flight (which, unbeknownst to us, meant a 30 minute walk in the sun between terminals after a 13 hour red eye flight…yeesh…) to Christchurch. The online rep assured me that because all our tickets were purchased together (meaning we purchased “LAX to Christchurch” with a layover) we’d not have to transfer our luggage.

I brought receipts…

At the baggage counter at LAX we asked the Air New Zealand agent again, just to be sure the online person knew what they were talking about. If they didn’t, we’d be without clothes for two weeks because we’d be constantly hopping cities and islands and the airline probably wouldn’t deliver our luggage to wherever we were when they found it. The agent assured us we wouldn’t have to do anything, our luggage would arrive in Christchurch. Cool.

Sunday

As we passed through international customs in Auckland, preparing to walk to the domestic terminal, a man in an airport uniform said “is that all the bags you’ve got? Not transferring anything?” We explained that Air New Zealand was transferring our luggage for us. “No they’re not” he said. “They never do that, you have to pick it up here and re-check it.”

Since we had a five hour layover we decided to walk back to the baggage claim for our flight from LAX and just see if this one guy was right and all the official Air New Zealand reps were wrong.

They were wrong. Our luggage came right out with everyone else’s and would have just sat there for two weeks if we’d believed what every Air New Zealand employee told us (seriously ANZ, WHY DID YOU DO THIS?!).

So that was fun. But we were relieved that guy stopped us. On retrospect it was obvious he has to tell this to people every day and it’s just become part of his job to clean up the airline’s mistakes. So whoever that one dude is checking the passports at the security exit of the Air New Zealand international terminal, thank you for making sure our vacation was not exponentially worse!

Once we did leave that terminal we had to walk in the sun past the stink of jet fuel and what looked like an oil refinery under construction to get to the international terminal. I suppose it was a wake-up call that New Zealand really isn’t that big of a place in terms of human presence. This was the first of many cues.

And then it was off to Christchurch, after sitting in the terminal for a few hours. It was here that we noticed the first of many “indoor birds.” Birds have a tendency to get indoors in New Zealand and nobody’s concerned about getting them back out. The little gray and brown guys showed all over the place in restaurants, grocery stores, airports, malls, you name it, as just a fact of life.

Finally arriving in Auckland after about 24 hours of travel (and about 4 hours of sleep in the past ~50 for me) we picked up our Budget rental car. The attendant told us we didn’t need to take photos (which had become a habit) because he already took them. He showed us a tablet with photos of the car and said he’d send us a link, so we didn’t have to worry about anything.

I took pictures anyway, Sam got in the driver’s seat (we agreed she’d drive the first day since I didn’t want to drive on the wrong side of the road for the first time in my life after barely any sleep for multiple days…and she learned to drive on the wrong side) and we took off to our hotel. It was days later we realized we’d not received any photos from Budget, but it wasn’t a pressing concern (I took my own, remember, and we’d never actually been dinged for damages on any of these trips in the past). Just hold onto that thought for a while, we’ll come back to it.

We were exhausted, but we only had the afternoon and the next morning in Christchurch, so we tried to see some sights. First we wanted a real meal, so we ate Indian outside at Spice Hub on the way to the Christchurch Gondola. This was our first meal of any kind in the country and it was reassuring that 1) almost every restaurant was very up front about ingredients (except nut content was suspiciously left out of the guides a lot) and 2) even Indian restaurants either had whole dishes without nuts or would gladly just leave the cashews, etc. out. This is very unlike America, where some restaurants have a gleeful “FU!” attitude about the health restrictions of their customers. And, from a certain perspective, I get it. It was a rough transition for me to go from just asking about nuts a few years ago, which is usually pretty easy to answer, to inquiring about nuts AND barley AND wheat AND buckwheat AND needing to see all the ingredients of any “gluten free buns/crust/dough” to make sure they’re not using the “deglutinated” wheat flour (which doesn’t help me at all) or almond flour. And a lot of waiters are secretly rolling their eyes, I’m sure, since “gluten free” has become more of a lifestyle choice than a health necessity for a lot of their customers.

And don’t even get me started on the difference between celiacs and allergies. Fact: celiacs don’t die if they eat gluten, so why they became the #1 dietary focus on every menu in the western world is beyond me. “Gluten free” is not the same as wheat free. Plastering “gluten free” all over half the menu and telling people with wheat allergies they’re safe is a dangerous game. But, unlike other places, usually New Zealanders are happy to tell you the real ingredients. (I’ll remind you I was told by a waiter it was the “chef’s secret” what the real ingredients were at one of the fanciest restaurants in Paris, so I couldn’t eat)

Over the course of this trip I became so trusting in their commitment to this attention to culinary detail in New Zealand that I made what could have been a fatal error on the last day, but hold that thought we’ll get back to it much much later in this post.

To get back to the main storyline: After eating we went up to the top of the gondola, which was fairly brief since we were in no condition to do a long hike back down.

It was still early in the afternoon, though, so we drove around the southeastern coastline for a bit, stopping to hike a little on Post Hill. After that we wanted to make our first grocery run and drive through the downtown area.

Back at the hotel we went looking for the ice machine as we always do and…couldn’t find it. Finally exasperated we went to the front desk. The jolly fellow chuckled and said “you’re Americans, aren’t you?” He explained that he traveled to America once and saw they had ice buckets in every room and ice makers on every floor, but “we don’t do that here.”

Usually on vacation i like to bring an insulated drinking bottle filled with water and ice so it’s cold all day. A minor comfort while walking ten times the normal amount, swatting flies, sweating in the heat, etc. It’s also nice to have the bucket and keep drinks like wine chilled for a bit before drinking since the little fridges are usually too small to fit a wine or champaign bottle.

Monday

Monday morning we went downtown to the “punting on the Avon” area for breakfast at the boathouse. This is the same punting you see in England, using long staffs to navigate longboats down a little river running through town. It was a sunny morning and we found parking right in front of a restaurant with outdoor seating next to the river. We planned to eat and then probably start on our drive to Arthur’s Pass.

r/secondsbeforedisaster material. You’d think somebody that (so everyone else thinks when I wear it) works for NASA would be smart enough to chew their food before swallowing!

Halfway through the meal I swallowed and felt a large unexpected piece of chicken lodge in my throat. I’d accidentally swallowed bigger chunks of food and ice cubes and stuff before, but this felt very different. At first I thought I was choking, stood up, and said so. Sam tried to give me the Heimlich, but nothing would come out. Of course, it’s difficult for someone who’s shorter and smaller than you to effectively forcefully lift anything out of your body. The good news was that after a few seconds of that it became apparent I could still breathe, so I wasn’t actually choking, but whatever was in there was staying put.

Now, those of your that know me well know I’m no stranger to things getting stuck in the esophagus. I’ve written about this before. I’d always had an embarrassing problem of needing to sometimes eject bits of food from my throat when they’d refuse to pass through the upper esophagus. But I didn’t get a diagnosis until my mid-thirties when I met an esophageal expert and had it all confirmed and temporarily alleviated with an endoscopy ballooning outpatient surgery (much less fun than it sounds!). The condition is called Eosinophilic Esophagitis, and as time goes on it’s getting more coverage and research, but it’s still unclear the exact mechanisms that cause each case and/or how to effectively treat it. It’s thought there’s two types (although they could overlap): 1) a reaction from allergens or 2) a reaction from stomach acid, both causing scar tissue from overproduction of eosinophils (white blood cells). If the cause is #2 then taking antacids can help, but not if it’s #1. Since it’s hard to know, I was initially prescribed an antacid (omeprazole). However, I had a pretty severe reaction to it and then learned after a few weeks, via a study that’s now been repeated and verified by NIH and others, that long term use is highly correlated with stomach cancer. So I stopped taking it. It’s also far more likely my problem is allergy related since I’ve never had a heartburn problem, but I’ve had lifelong severe allergies.

Initially the doctor that diagnosed me said I should have the balloon surgery every five years because until there’s a permanent treatment the scarring will build up again and I’ll have the same problem reoccur. And he was right. For a few years I could eat whatever I wanted (that I wasn’t allergic to) and had no problems swallowing. It was like magic for someone that had had to worry about swallowing for 35 years. However, over time the issue returned. This is most likely due to the fact that it’s nearly impossible to eat a “normal” diet and take your wife out to dinner, etc. and completely avoid wheat, which seems to be the triggering mechanism for me, though it could also be things like soy (which is even harder to avoid). There’s no real test to see which things trigger the EoE eosinophils, but based on my reactions to wheat, barley, etc. further down the same pipe I assumed that was it. Even sushi is going to have wheat in the soy sauce, etc. so I’m surely getting “trivial” amounts that don’t set off a noticeable reaction (like that trip to the emergency room a few years ago after drinking a shandy which turned out to be barley based), but the reaction still happens: small bits of scarring continue to grow until… eight years later the rings are back and occasionally I find myself running to the bathroom during a meal again. This began happening after 2020, but I chose not to get the surgery again because I was worried about catching covid in a surgical environment where I obviously couldn’t wear a mask (and doctors aren’t required to since there’s no tissue opening, just mouth opening).

So after realizing I wasn’t choking I thought that this restaurant event was just a big version of the EoE and maybe I just needed to expel the chicken. However, unlike every other EoE event the throat wasn’t spasming and trying to get it out. I couldn’t forcefully move it. And ordinarily in an EoE event when I drink water the water will just sit on top of the obstruction until I spit it out. With this thing the water actually tipped over into my lungs, which was terrifying. I just realized I wasn’t choking, and then nearly drowned myself by drinking water.

I was hunched over in the corner of the eating area with other patrons concerned and trying to offer advice behind me while Sam simultaneously tried to see to my concerns but also deal with their inquiries. A woman behind us kept intercepting the restaurant staff and telling them she had some colon operation a few years ago so she “knows what that guy is going through” or something like that. Meanwhile I didn’t know what I was going through. It hurt, there were weird noises and feelings happening in my throat and it was increasingly embarrassing as this dragged on and wasn’t getting better. Some folks offered to call emergency services, which I refused at first thinking the cost would be tremendous. In America calling an ambulance can be a quick trip to bankruptcy. Thank god we have a free market insurance system, I almost refused necessary medical care because America had trained me to be more afraid of paying for it than dying! Then they explained the hospital was actually just around the corner and the lady with the “similar” issue insisted they just needed to siphon it out with a special plunger or something. That didn’t sound so bad. Let’s do that.

Things were not improving with time. They were getting worse. Air bubbles trying to come up through the obstruction couldn’t move it, which is also different than an EoE experience. This was a legitimate complete obstruction of the esophagus, and it was becoming exceedingly clear I wasn’t going to solve it on my own.

Now, through this process, the body keeps making saliva. Normally your saliva goes down your throat and you don’t really notice. When you have a complete obstruction it doesn’t make it and you have to keep spitting to make sure it doesn’t happen, so I had to keep spitting and worrying it would slide down into my lungs like when I tried to drink water. So yeah, let’s head to the hospital.

I stood up and headed for the hospital based on a combination of the woman’s description and google maps.

You might ask if we paid for our meals. This was, luckily, a place where you paid ahead of time, so we could just leave without worrying about that, at least. This was in contrast to almost every other meal, where we paid by walking back to the hostess to pay afterwards.

And the hospital was actually a few blocks away, but due to construction we had to walk all the way around to the other side, which, despite it only being about 550 meters, while you’re experiencing a medical event and not sure where the entrance actually is, it’s quite a bizarre situation on a Monday morning. Elated there’s help so close, but then the entrance is blocked off and you’re trying to ask people where to go but you can’t really talk but you also don’t want to stop too long because you want this situation OVER!

We found the entrance eventually and went up to the desk. Sam took over pretty quickly and told me to just sit down in the waiting area. Initially they showed us a price card and estimated it would be $800 (NZD) which is about $450 USD. This was still when we thought they’d just suction something out and we’d be on our way. Because of covid worries I’d actually looked up our international insurance coverage before we left. The policy doesn’t spell out how much we’d get reimbursed for in a situation like this, but it would be something. So we’d probably pay a few hundred bucks. Which, honestly, given how painful, embarrassing, and difficult the situation was getting, was a steal.

Below is a pic that makes it look like I’m having a drink. That’s full of spit, because I can’t let it get it swallowed. And yes, this meant masking was impossible, so the staff donned masks when possible at my request. When more urgent medical issues arise, covid caution takes a back seat. (grocery shopping is not an urgent medical issue)

^complementary custom printed IV bag. Long is not the size, which took us a minute to realize. They didn’t let me take it home as a consolation prize, even after giving my stomach a bigger dilation than my eyes. (I have a friend that’s an amateur rapper and I jokingly put my stories in terrible rhymes for fun)

After about fifteen minutes in the urgent care waiting area they moved me to a patient room with a bed and had me put on a surgical gown (which you saw in the above photos). They put an IV in me and got a couple different doctors, one being a gastro specialist. To my surprise she was knowledgeable about the condition. To my additional surprise nobody had any complaints about wearing a mask (and many were already). To my additional additional surprise they kept apologizing about “the wait” when in reality this all felt like it was happening in light speed compared to Sam’s experience after fracturing her arm a few years ago in the States. She had to wait something like 13 hours to get surgery after many many many hours just sitting in the waiting area cradling a forearm that was completely disconnected on the inside and clenching teeth in pain.

Nurses and other kind folks kept coming into the room to check on me and emoting how sorry they were that this was our introduction to New Zealand. Eventually they determined that there was staff on site to do an endoscopy and I was scheduled next in line. I had to wait maybe another 40 minutes, but this was due to the transfer nurse (they were wheeling me on a bed to the other side of the hospital) not being available or on lunch or something, which they were very apologetic about.

Eventually we reached the operating room after being wheeled to the other end of the hospital (ironically probably about 50 meters from the restaurant) and it was a very similar experience to my last endoscopy, except that I remembered bits and pieces of the procedure after waking up.

Also unlike last time they gave me photos of everything they did. I was never able to get any of the photos from my procedure in the US even after asking my doctor repeatedly in follow-ups and even though I was (and still am) an employee of the company that did the surgery. Even after the doctor told me I was the “worst case I’ve ever seen” and belonged in a textbook on EoE. So maybe my esophagus is in some textbook and hundreds (HUNDREDS) of aspiring gastroenterologists have seen my throat scars, but I haven’t (from before the first procedure).

This time I saw it all. I’ll spare you those photos, but I will tell you the details that I learned after waking up:

• the chicken was lodged just past the split with the air passage, which explains why the water would spill into my lungs when I tried to drink.
• They pushed the chicken through, but either noticed or caused three deep mucosul tears in the esophagus and so installed three endoclips, which I have photos of as well.
• They didn’t really explain what would happen to the endoclips. Basically “don’t worry about it” and kind of indicated they’d pass, but I didn’t need to fish them out. Event though they look metal? So I could still have metal clips floating around right now, or maybe they’re somewhere in a waste management system filter in New Zealand, I don’t know.

Then Sam shared another important detail that was stunning: It would all be free. Free. As in no charge at all. Why? Because New Zealand’s socialized medicine (oooh, scary, right?!) has a policy that accidents are fixed for free for anyone in the country, doesn’t matter if you live there or not. So once Sam fully explained what happened it was marked up as an accident and payment waived.

So if you’re tracking this: I walked into an urgent care as a foreigner with no local insurance, got examined and scheduled for surgery in only a few hours and then on my way at no cost. We were out of the hospital by 3pm I think, but part of that was the hour of just waiting for me to wake up after surgery. But, yeah, we can’t have Medicare for all in the US because of “wait times,” right?

I also remember going into surgery and the surgeon asking me if I take antacid pills and him being kind of surprised and mad when I said no. He said something like “well with your condition, you should.”

When I woke up they handed me a prescription for three weeks of Omeprazole, which I filled downstairs in five minutes on our way out of the hospital for $30 NZD (about $17 USD). Again, that’s not the insurance discounted copay, that’s the total cost. $17. (to be fair, between my first use of it and now this medication has since gone OTC in the U.S. and retails for about the same amount in most pharmacies)

We were free to go and start our vacation, but I could only consume liquid for the rest of the day and liquidy (yogurt) things the next few and then soft foods after that, etc. It took about a week before the pain went away and I could eat somewhat normal food again. This added an additional complication layer on our food plans to the allergies and covid precautions. So, I had a lot of hummus and yogurt that week.

And, to our surprise, those are two things New Zealand really excels at. To the point where the yogurt specifically is something we miss and can’t find anything as good in the States now that we’re back. If you go to New Zealand make a point to try the Puhoi Valley Greek Yoghurt. So much better than the mass produced Dannon, etc. stuff available in America. Sam is convinced it’s because their cows are not factory farmed and all that, which is probably true. She kept saying “happy cows come from New Zealand,” mocking the California cows slogan since a lot of our “happy cows” are actually in big factory farm holding pens (drive up the “ugly” route through the central valley and you’ll see and smell what I’m referring to, at least until ICE deports everybody and the cows roam free on the defunct bankrupted farmland). Whatever the reason, I didn’t mind having more of that yogurt at all, and the convenience stores in New Zealand (much like Japan) actually sell quality food. Lots of variations of hummus and yoghurt and fruits and things which made it very easy to just grab breakfast or dinner and eat it on a park bench in front of a lake, etc.

Anyway, back to the “present moment” in this tale. After getting discharged we were hungry but I was only allowed to eat juice and water. So we went to the grocery store for my juice and Sam got a “kiwi burger” from what we thought was a McDonald’s because it has the arches, but then we realized the name wasn’t on anything. In fact in one place under the arches it said “moorehouse” or something. I can’t find any evidence of this online after the fact, but I swear that the name on the actual doors, despite the arches and the same menu and everything, said “Moorehouse” not McDonald’s.

Shortly thereafter we were on our way out of the city and into the countryside, pushing through wide valleys between sunscraped hills on the way to Arthur’s Pass. Our late start meant we had to miss a few things, but we’d built in slack time so my hospital adventure didn’t delay us too much.

We checked into our hotel in Arthur’s pass and headed to Devils punchbowl, getting there around 8:15. No matter, the sun doesn’t set in the kiwi summer until after 9. We had plenty of time to traipse up the half mile of long wooden stairs to the viewing platform. An hour earlier and it might have been bathed in red light.

Getting back to the car it was still twilight so we went another few kilometers up the road to Otira Viaduct Lookout.

This ended up being one of the latest nights on the trip and unfortunately one of the few with clear skies, so this was the only star photography opportunity I’d get (while we were showering and prepping for bed) in a country known for dark skies. This was taken on the back balcony of our hotel suite.

Tuesday

Tuesday morning we drove straight to Franz Josef, arriving about five minutes into the first quarter of the national championship. We couldn’t check in early so we watched at a table outside reception until halftime. Sam used the time to do some initial laundering. Because of the time difference the game was over around 5pm, so we went to the local grocery store to collect items for dinner. Still on a liquid diet this was more difficult for me. However due to the hippie nature (think Banff, Boulder, lots of hostels and teenagers because this was their “summer break” down under) there was an abundance of yoghurts and hummissesese to choose from. Also a basic selection of soup. Sam chose a whole steak. Our hotel room came with a basic kitchen.

After dinner we went around the corner from the hotel to Tartare Tunnels. I had read that glowworms live in the tunnels. New Zealand is famous for its glowworms, but most people go on an organized tour in big caves in Waitomo that put you in a boat with lifejackets and then….forbid you from taking any photos. Well, that would not do. If you do your homework there are free hikes that have glowworms all over the country and tartare was supposedly one of them. We had read that the tunnel had water in it so we asked folks walking back about their experience. 

The first couple were Germans from Saxony that informed us there were no worms and lots of water. They had a map that showed the worms were somewhere miles away (later I realized they’re probably talking about the nature walk in Fox Glacier, which also has worms). We were discouraged but continued on. The next group said “yes, there are some worms, you have to go into the cave to see them and turn off your lights…and take off your shoes”. We knew about the lights bit, we’d brought miners headlamps with red lights that don’t disturb the worms (as much). This was encouraging. We speculated that the Germans didn’t know about the red lights.

The next couple said “oh yes, there’s a lot of worms, just go twenty minutes in and turn off your lamps.” Now we were excited, though feeling bad for the Germans that came so far and saw nothing. 

After about a mile of gravel path we reached switchbacks that carved a stone path up the hillside between moss and jungle eventually ending at an old…. something…that had a sign on it for the tunnel. There was also a notice that the tunnel is closed halfway through so you can’t get to the other side.

At first we entered and tried to get through with our shoes on. With the water crystal clear and with only headlamps to see it was impossible to gauge the depth and so we quickly ended up splashing our shoes. I decided to just barefoot hoof it the rest of the way, Sam just decided to get her shoes all wet. She ended up being smarter because by tomorrow morning with the help of a hairdryer and sunshine her shoes were mostly dry again. The water was ice cold, but the painful part was the rocks on my bare feet.

The entire tunnel was carved about five feet wide and six feet high, so it was a single-file shuffle all the way. Curious, we stopped every 100 feet or so, turned off our lights, and waited. As we got deeper into the tunnel this began to pay off, with little blue pin lights appearing on the ceiling.

Eventually we reached the end of the tunnel where wooden boards blocked the exit. However this was also where the majority of the worms had set up shop, ironically at the only point in the tunnel that had some natural light.

Since it was about 8:30pm the sun had dimmed and we wondered if it was too naturally bright for the Germans to see the worms. Whatever the reason they couldn’t, we certainly could and we enjoyed having the little light show all to ourselves.

I regretted not bringing proper shoes on the long wet painful trek back. Ironically we had rubber waterproof hotel slippers back the hotel we didn’t think to bring.

We were back at the hotel by sunset, but only after enjoying the green jungle walk back over mossy stones and low hanging ferns.

Wednesday 

On our second day in the glacier area we drove out to fox glacier viewpoint trail, which was quite far away and a little underwhelming considering we’d gone right up and stood on glaciers in Iceland and Alberta.

The main chalet track that takes you to a high up view was closed so we went to the south side hike, which may take you up to it if you go for 12 miles or something, but after the first few miles we decided to take another faraway shot and turn around. We took the extra excursion to Moraine track on the way back which was an enjoyable jungle hike.

Next we drove out on a long gravel road through the jungle to Gillespie’s Beach, but didn’t stay long as the beach itself was a long coast of gray stone beach with driftwood. Reminded me a lot of the upper peninsula in Washington State.

Back in town we grabbed more food at the store to cook in the room. With my throat still recovering that meant more hummus and yoghurt for me.

After dinner we went to nearby callery gorge, which was similar to moraine earlier but with multiple waterfalls ending in a large Banffesqeu blue water gorge and suspension bridge.

Since it was only 8 or so by the time we got back to the car we decided to try and see the sunset at Lake Matheson, but the sun was already setting by the time we arrived.

We went to nearby Minnehaha Trail because it’s easy to find (right in Fox Glacier downtown) and famous for glowworms. As the light faded the glowworms came out. The trail is normally a short 20 minute walk, but we found ourselves stopping long and often when encountering the clusters of glowworms in the bases of the trees.  Keep in mind when you look at the below photos that these are long exposures, sometimes several minutes long and taken in near complete darkness. They look “daytime” because I have a full frame camera that lets in so much light I can bring the light back up in editing later. In person what you’d see is moonlight, silhouettes of trees and thousands of little blue pinlights.

It was a magical place, but the time very quickly added up, and the drive back to our hotel was going to be at least half an hour. Each photo was taking a long time, with uncertain results and often ruined by other tourists passing by and/or shining their lights. At 10:30 we had to turn our lamps back on and navigate out, stopping twice to photograph possums doing whatever possums do.

Thursday 

Thursday we set out for Wanaka by way of the Haast pass. First stop was Maori Beach, in the rain like almost every photo you’ve ever seen.

That said, Thursday was the first rainy day we’d encountered. At the time it was sprinkling and at others coming down in buckets, but almost always clearing for our enjoyment at the numerous waterfalls in Haast. The sandflies on the Haast river though, wow. The bites still have not fully healed as I write this a month later! We had bug spray but it didn’t seem to make a difference. So if you enjoy these waterfall pics then I guess I’ve “suffered for my art.”

As we left Haast the weather cleared completely during the plunge through the mountains to Wanaka, which sits between two lakes.

After another hummus and yoghurt dinner (and the first well chewed actual meat protein I’d had in five days) we tried to watch the sunset on the lake, but mostly just saw lots of black clouds and swans as a cold win blew from behind.

Friday

We checked out and made the hour drive to Queenstown, stopping only briefly at lookouts. We had an appointment in Queenstown for a scenic flight to Milford Sound on the early afternoon.

Originally we planned the trip to drive from Queenstown to Te Anau And then spend the day driving to Milford Sound, take a cruise, and drive back to Te Anau. Then we discovered that tiny prop planes to Milford from Queenstown were affordable. They weren’t cheap at ~$250 per person, but it saved an entire day of driving and we got to fly through the mountains, which was actually maybe more memorable than the cruise of the Sound.

Combined with the sound cruise it was all over in about four hours, but the only slow point was a 30 minute break (to eat) after flying into Milford sound. Although the winds were around 100mph Sam and I elected to stay in the open top of the boat and really feel the fjord. It was sunny so with our jackets the wind chill never made it that cold.

Back in Queenstown we checked into the hotel and went to the wharf for dinner.

We picked Pier Restaurant. We were warned it would be about 30-40 minutes for our food to arrive since it was very crowded. After checking with our waiter twice it finally arrived, after others already came, ate and left. We’d had a long day and not getting any food until around 9pm, watching others eat and pay and leave was producing quite a big of that “hangriness.” At payment nothing was taken off the bill and the waiter never acknowledged they’d forgot the order or anything. This may have been the most expensive meal in New Zealand and the worst experience.

Saturday 

We walked to the wharf again for brunch, deciding to wait in the long time for “fergburger” to see what the big deal was. Luckily they have a rice based bun for wheat allergy folks like me. It was good, but not earth shattering. It’s always nice on the rare occasions I do get to eat hotdogs or cheeseburgers or any of that stuff that’s mostly locked away in the wheat allergy vault.

That said, the commitment to managing food allergies was impressive. Even at places with “gluten free” buns the response to the ingredients question is usually an “I dunno” and an “are you gonna buy something or what?” face. At fergburger they take note of your allergies and create an allergy free glide path for the food production if necessary. They had little booklets for all (or at least my) allergies that showed which things were risky, all the way down to a “may contains traces of nuts” on a sauce ingredients list on my burger. They also brought out the bun box so I could read the ingredients myself. And the lady taking the order the whole time was friendly about it, no indication that this was a hassle, despite the very long line of folks waiting behind us. When we drove by again at dinnertime the line was stretching all the way down the block. This is the Pink’s hot dogs of Queenstown. Except the food you get is probably comparatively better quality than Pink’s.

We also ordered a salted caramel gelato shake and they figured out they were out of the flavor. They took us to the gelateria next-door to pick out a replacement flavor.

After eating in a park across the street (this wasn’t due to covid, btw, there’s very little seating at fergburger by design so MOST orders are eaten outside on the public benches) we walked up the street to the gondola. 

We tried the luge, which was fun, but not what I expected. I remember watching YouTube videos of people luging all the way down the hill, but that’s not here; it was just a short track at the top. Maybe I was confusing it with something in Switzerland. The view was also somewhat compromised both by design (gondola machinery in the way to the east) and by construction (giant new viewing platform under construction to the west), so we spent less time on the top of the hill than we planned.

I worried the rest of the day about picking up lice from the helmets that thousands of people wear before they’re washed (if ever).

Back in town we went to fergs gelateria for proper gelatos. Then walked around town for a couple of hours shopping for souvenirs and visiting the local Saturday craft market on the marina.

Around 5 we set out towards Glenorchy intending to hike to the Lake Creek Waterfall. Along the road there are several lookouts of Lake Wakatipu.

The waterfall hike is a bit hidden. It starts in a field in which the weeds have overtaken the path. We pushed through seven foot high bushes and in just a few minutes arrived at the waterfall.

The waterfall you hike to is the “bottom” (other than the creek rock cascades that flow to the lake) of a long series of waterfalls that start in the mountain and can be seen from the road.

Rather than push through the brush we decided to hike back down the boulders in the creek.

On the way back to Queenstown we found an unmarked pull-off with a small path leading down to a rocky beach extending into the lake. Storms were swirling around the mountaintops so I tried my best to take some moody photos (feeling like we were in Scotland).

Back in town we ate a late dinner at a Thai restaurant that had an outdoor balcony by the marina as the storm we observed on the lake slowly caught up to us.

Noticing some views off the side of the road on the way back to our hotel I, of course, had to venture out in the storm and find a path to the water to try and take some night shots, which were almost entirely useless because of the humidity and rain.

Sunday

Today we were flying to Auckland in the afternoon and it was raining hard so we did laundry in the morning and found a nice fast sushi place by the airport and called it a day.

While waiting for our plane to takeoff I got an email that we were going to pay for damages on our rental we’d just returned unless we could prove it’s not our fault.

If you recall earlier in this blog post I mentioned that when we’d picked up the car in Christchurch we noted all the damage to the attendant and he showed us pictures they already took and said he’d send them to us. I went ahead and took my own pictures and it’s a good thing I did because sitting on the tarmac a week later we realized he’d never sent us anything at all.

Picking up our next car the attendant was able to pull up their Christchurch photos which showed the damage was already there three days before we even arrived. However, their photos were low res and blurry. After getting to our Sky City hotel I emailed both sets of photos to the claims manager demanding they close the “case” against us. The next morning we were absolved of responsibility in a very terse email. I have a feeling they get bonuses when they can prove someone else has to pay.

Monday

We swiftly walked down the street to a local outdoor restaurant for breakfast and walked even swifter back up to visit sky tower, which was actually located within our hotel.

After that we had the long drive over to coromandel peninsula. We stopped first at Wyuna Bay, which was okay, but someplace we’d need to spend an hour at (as I had in my itinerary), which was a good thing since after visiting sky tower we didn’t have an hour and had to hurry off to meet our 3pm driving creek railway appointment.

Driving creek was about what you’d expect. A hand built little train that chugs in switchbacks up to a viewing platform.

We checked into our hotel and had a nice Indian dinner down the street.

Our next stop was the real reason we came to the peninsula: Cathedral Cove. The first access point turned out to be false, with an angry sign about “Google is wrong there’s no access here!” Our next stop was right, but hours too late. The buses stop running around 6 and it was 7. We thought we’d walk for a minute until informed by a sign we’d need 75 of them just to get there (sunset was at 8:30).

So we tried again, going to the cove overlook parking. We were met with barricades that said cove parking is closed during the summer months and to take the shuttle, which was now closed. Sheesh.

At this point it was almost 8 and we’d not intended to watch the sunset from there anyway, so we went to our sunset point: Te Pare Lookout. This place also has a no parking sign, but we parked about a mile back in a residential neighborhood and walked.

Tuesday

Tuesday, after recovering from a night of listening to the two kids in the room upstairs jump off their beds all night, we began our Exodus from the peninsula by climbing to Mt Paku, one of it’s highest points.

Oh, but before I talk about that, I want to mention the weird showers we saw here and in one other place in New Zealand. They put a plastic cap on the shower stall to trap the moisture (???).

Then it was on to Hobbiton. The whole Hobbiton tour is about two and a half hours, but you don’t notice it. Especially if you’re an owner of the extended editions and have been waiting twenty five years for this. Perhaps it was worth waiting for that long because in the interim they built an interior hobbit hole experience that only opened in 2023. I will never understand (unless it was for licensing reasons) why they chose to create a Proudfoot smial instead of Bilbo’s…but functionally they’re identical.

We drove down to Rotura and checked in, grabbed something to eat (the simplest fried food ever at Uncle Lee’s) and went to Blue lake. We did not try a scoop of “blood and guts.”

At blue lake you can supposedly see the Milky Way reflected at night. This night was cloudy though so I didn’t get to test that.

We did what we were really there to do and walked into the forest to see the star field stuck in the ground. You see, Blue lake has a walking track, and only a few hundred meters in there’s an unmarked pocket of ground that’s sunk down beneath the forest and become a home for thousands of glowworms.

Just like in Fox Glacier we ran into the issue of other folks coming in and making it hard to photograph. Of course, the fact that they’re tiny pinlights that you need to focus on in complete darkness was the real hurdle. I never really got over it, even when I tried to focus in on one single worm the resulting photo, amped up in processing, turned out to have a leaf covering the actual worm part. That sort of detail is impossible to see in the dark and through a viewfinder and under time constraints (it doesn’t get dark until 9:30ish).

Oh, and I’m not using a macro lens either, it’s just a 35mm prime, so focusing in on tiny things is not my camera’s strong suit in broad daylight, let alone pitch blackness. But it did a better job than our phone cameras, which resulted in blurry smears of little lights or just…nothing.

Wednesday 

Our second day in Rotorua had less of an organized schedule so we made it up as we went along. First stop was the Redwood Forest which we walked on the ground and in the air.

The next stop was Waimangu Volcanic Valley Geothermal area, which was about a three mile one way walk along the verdant bubbling stream. In the sun. Luckily we made it to the lake in time to catch the last shuttle bus back to the visitor center.

Thursday 

Thursday started off with another geothermal park.; Waiotapu Thermal Wonderland, which was a shorter walk than yesterday’s but with a lot more tourists.

Then we stopped at Huka Waterfall.

We drove back into town for dinner (Indian again). The. Sam found a place to walk through the jungle to see green caves on the coast.

Friday

We drove out to the “secret” waterfall, which we passed the first time because it’s unmarked and then we drove down a sketchy muddy dirt road in the weeds. Then we figured out you can actually see the waterfall via a small hike from the road.

Next up was the wider of “gollums pool”…or one of them anyway…

Then we drove out to whakapapa to see where they filmed Mordor. We did Meads Wall hike before hopping on the gondola to the not quite top as the fog cleared.

Honestly there weren’t that many opportunities for photography up there (without chalets and the ski lifts in the way) without doing one of the hikes. We weren’t prepared for the longer hikes and didn’t have time. We also saw that the water fall hike is apparently fed by a pump at the top?!

After that we made the long drive out to the taller “gollums pool,” where like gollum, (or so he thought) we were all alone. The only view the public is allowed to see is on the left side of the falls high up, which is the vantage point of Faramir’s archers in the film.

We finished the day by eating more Indian for dinner and then walking from our hotel to the Lakeshore for the sunset.

Saturday 

Saturday was filled with long drives to the West Coast Waitomo area, which honestly reminded me a lot of Appalachia; twisty roads through green hills sheltering sheep, cows, and lots of roadkill opportunistic hawks.

First we saw Waitanguru Waterfall.

Then natural bridge.

After that was another waterfall that was easily the most impressive we’d see in New Zealand: Marokopa Falls. It’s a very high and wide waterfall that belongs in Africa (from what I’ve seen of African waterfalls in the teevee).

There was a dirt and mud path to hike down so of course I did that to get “better” shots, but with little success as it was so very wet.

On the way to the waterfall wed passed a small parking area and a sign for piripiri caves. We were technically ahead of schedule for the day so we hiked up the little trail to a cave cutting into the hillside with a stairway that descends into the pit.

Then it was just a “quick” three hour drive to Auckland where we checked into Fernz Motel. Which was actually less of a “motel” (this has a bad connotation in the US) and more of a luxury apartment. The whole thing has been remodeled and has full appliances, etc. definitely the nicest place we stayed and a relief after many of our “four star hotels” turned out to be dingy broken down jokes of accommodations. The location was good too, in a hip little neighborhood on a hill overlooking the bay in front of of Auckland’s skyline.

After eating Indian again we walked a few minutes down to the candy factory to watch the clouds turn pink behind the city.

Sunday 

We ate breakfast at the candy factory and then drove to Piha Beach in West Auckland.

It had a vibe that can only be described as Malibu mixed with canon Beach, with two massive rock formations framing barely surfable waves (though a great many were trying) breaking into a broad flat glittering beach backing up into high dunes filled with low growing beach grasses. There were signs proclaiming that little grey penguins lived in the beach, but we didn’t see any.

Next we hiked to the top of Kitekite Falls, which turned out to be long and grueling through the jungle on a hot day. At the top there were a few natural pools that formed before plunging over the rock face. There was a small queue of folks wanting to take a sip in the top pool, and an existing cadre of danger seeking smokers clinging to the rocks just below at a smaller much more dangerous pool.

It was here too that, despite a strict policy of cleaning your shoes and spritzing antibacterial stuff at the entrance gate, there were a LOT of dogs running around.

We went all the way down to the lower falls view, at which you can see the majority of the high triple stage waterfall, but the base is replete with everyone and all their cousins wading in. There was a gross white film around the edges of the pool from all the sunscreen washed off when folks inevitably insist on standing right under the waterfall.

After all that it was time to head to Takapuna Beach to meet one of Sam’s childhood friends to watch the sunset.

Monday

With another childhood friend to meet (and me not sleeping, which I guess will just happen whenever I have a long flight now?) at noon we didn’t linger long. We went to the harbor bridge view and then met at Alice’s in the downtown harbor. There was a slightly scary moment when Sam detected nuts in the salsa in one of the dishes (I guess I only asked about peanuts when we ordered?). Sure enough, the salsa had almonds in it. The salsa. Okay. I guess people do that trying to get fancy, but it certainly wasn’t on my radar. Almost started AND ended our vacation with a trip to the hospital. Luckily almonds are one of the lesser nut allergies (just a lot of stomach pain) in my collection.

Afterwards we got gelato and then just went straight to the airport.