New Zealand: Adventure, wine and the bright lights of Auckland

Nicole Trup takes you through breathtaking hotspots you won't want to miss
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Nicola Trup6 July 2017

"You guys want a lift?” Will shouts over to the couple. They nod and make their way across the stream. Will’s light aircraft sits behind us on the makeshift runway where we landed.

We’d taken off from Makarora, on New Zealand’s South Island, slicing through the scenery of Mt Aspiring National Park before descending into the park’s Siberia Valley. Like many locations on South Island, Mt Aspiring scored its 15 minutes of fame as a filming location for the Lord of the Rings franchise, and the flight certainly had a cinematic quality to it. We glided between peaks, over glaciers and hanging valleys, and past still, mirror-like glacial lakes, perched halfway up the mountains.

Paths snaked through the wilderness, originally carved out by the cattle that grazed up here but now used by hikers (or, in Kiwi lingo, trampers).

Down in the valley, Will and the couple get ready to take off as my walking companions and I step tentatively into the stream. I let out an expletive. It’s freezing — hardly a surprise considering the water has run off a glacier — and the rocks dig into my soles as I make my way across.

We hike up a wooded hillside, and as the morning mist gives way to autumn sun, views open up across the valley, which looks almost like it could be in ub-Saharan Africa, rather than the Antipodes.

It’s a fairly gentle climb, and soon we’re stomping downhill to where our lift is due to meet us. We’re not the only ones waiting; other hikers, some of whom have spent the night out here in the trampers’ huts, are standing ready to be picked up, heavy packs on their backs.

It’s not a plane taking us this time but a jetboat. These boats suck the water in from underneath and spit it back out behind them, allowing them to operate in very shallow water. Once aboard, it feels almost like we’re just skimming over a puddle. Occasionally, we slow down so our guide Alec can wave to a couple of fishermen, or to point out the odd rainbow trout in the crystal-clear river.

The next day, I set off early for Aoraki/Mt Cook National Park and the Hermitage Hotel, which overlooks New Zealand’s highest peak. The mountain can be scaled — Sir Edmund Hillary tackled it before conquering Everest — but it’s a perilous, technical climb, and many have died attempting it, so most visitors settle for gentler options such as hiking or touring in a 4x4.

Another of the park’s attractions is Tasman Glacier Terminal Lake, which sits tucked between the snow-capped peaks. And though you can spot it from various vantage points, the best way to see it up close is to get out on the water.

Rob Suisted

At one end is the wall of ice that marks the edge of Tasman Glacier itself, which, at 24km, is New Zealand’s longest. It is, though, “melting all the time”, says my guide, Emily. The glacier retreats at a rate of around 70-80m a year and the water we’re on has been created by the melting ice. “This lake right here, it didn’t exist 26 years ago,” Emily adds.

The glacier sits about 20-30m above the water, and roughly 250m below, and there’s an ice shelf under the surface that prevents our boat from getting too close. Around us float icebergs, which have dropped off the glacier in the night. They’re surprisingly blue, though in a few hours’ time they’ll have melted under the blazing sun.

My week in New Zealand not only involves adventure but indulgence — tastings in wine country, meals in smart restaurants — so by the time I reach Auckland I’m desperate to work it off. Luckily, even though this is the country’s biggest city, it’s very outdoorsy. After paddle boarding around Mission Bay and hiking up Mount Eden to admire the views, I take a 40-minute ferry over to Waiheke Island, known for its vineyards, bohemian vibe and general good living.

At the terminal I’m met by a man holding a paddle — this must be my guide for the day. Daniel leads me to where our kayaks are waiting, and after a run-through of the basics he pushes me out on to the water. We dodge boats until we’re out of the harbour and skirt around a series of small bays. High above us, overlooking tiny stretches of sand, are impressive holiday homes, some of which wouldn't look out of place on Grand Designs.

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The water’s choppy in places and when we slow down my kayak starts to rock gently; suddenly, all that fine food and wine threatens to make a reappearance. The only thing is to keep going, and soon we’re paddling into Oneroa Bay, which is full of holidaymakers’ boats.

“There’s a saying there are three things Aucklanders want in life,” Daniel tells me as we’re making for the beach. “A Beamer [BMW], a bach (holiday home) and a boat.”

Sounds all right to me.

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