Now in Queenstown

Hello all,
Oh man this is going to be tough reconstructing the last few days--they are flying by and each experience is unique and extraordinary. So we left Milford Sound and those motherf'ng sandflies (and I am being kind). We did the long beautiful road back in reverse and still stopped along the way to admire the glaciers, mountains, rivers, flowers, and on an on and on . . . we left early in the morning with the cloud mist on us and it was eerie and peaceful. We stopped once more in the Eglinton Valley to view the lupines--this time we walked right down into a huge field of them. We made a picnic lunch and had it by the lake to take in the view one last time. We stocked up in Te Anau and headed east from there to our destination, Garston. The landscape changed dramatically from fiords, mountains, alpine lakes, firs and beech to round hills of many colors of brown and rust and yellow. The fields were full of farmed reindeer and deer. We were to stop initially in Lumsden, thinking it a town of some size according to the map. It is a good thing that I didn't book our lodging there and also glad that I had decided at the last minute to shop in Te Anau. Lumsden is like an old blown over cowboy town--long ago forgotten. To give you an idea: we stopped at the Isite (these are information sites located everywhere in NZ to collect booklets about the various areas) and it was located in an old train station that was now split in half--one side the information area and the other a crocheted and knitting shop which you enter first. If you go into the Isite, the old lady from the knitting shop closes up her till and makes her way over to you. It was absolutely empty and cold. A young East Indian man walked in without baggage, backpack or anything else to indicate that he was traveling. He was wearing a scarf around his neck and had silver ostrich or leather cowboy boots with at least four to six inches of pointers on them. It really did look odd. He was inquiring about transportation--a bus maybe. I'm telling you, Lumsden is in the middle of nowhere! Unclear how he even got there. But then we saw him later hitching down the road. Very strange. When we asked about a fishing license, we were told to go across the street to the "chemist" shop--that would be a pharmacy to you northlanders. Pharmacy is generous-- a kind of everything little shop.
We headed to our arranged lodging: an old (130 yrs) stone cottage on a farm. It had been totally renovated on the inside, but had this incredible charm about it. The proprietors, John and Avis MacIver, were the most generous, salt of the earth kind of people. We thought we'd landed at the Ritz--full modern farm kitchen, 3 bedrooms, washer and dryer, a shower with enough power to shoot you across the sheep field (I worry about their pipes), a setting to die for--and so much more. Within minutes, after expressing our desire to fish, John had us jump into his four wheel drive. (BTW, he is 70) Before you know it, I was jumping in and out of the truck to open paddocks, let the truck through, and then shut the gate. He drove right through the middle of fields with sheep running out of the way, and took us straight to the river's edge on his neighbor's property. I followed him as he stomped through razor sharp grass, nettles and sheep shit in his usual Kiwi dress: shorts and rubber boots. He pointed out a huge brown trout in a pool of water under some willow trees and then we hopped back into the truck to change our clothes and grab our gear. We fished every day for sometimes 7 hours in the sun, the wind, the rain, whatever. I've never walked in so much sheep crap in my whole life. Every night Joel would have to hose our boots down only to mess them up the very next day. But the pay off was that I caught my first huge brown trout (somewhere over 7 lbs--AND Boyd Lyle, I am not shitting you!)
The kitchen allowed us to do a lot more cooking and I went a little nuts: crepes with nutella and bananas, crepes with cinnamon and sugared apples, curried veges over basmati rice, a lovely vege stew with fresh bread. While there I also fixed Avis' computer--clean out virus and optimized her system. It was hard leaving such a lovely place and such wonderful people.
We left for Queenstown this morning on a fine sunny day. Avis had just hung out her laundry and it was waving in the light breeze. The honeysuckle at the front entry was so fragrant and the climbing roses and wisteria surrounding her inner yard were in full bloom. A stunning ride through country fields and then along Lake Wakapitu with the Remarkables range and finally the town. Qtown is like Aspen--boutique shops, lots of tourists, every imaginable activity (paragliding, jet boats, gondola rides, biking, boating, helicopter rides. The setting is unspeakably beautiful, but the whole scene is not my thing. As Avis said before we left: I really don't care for the cities, I prefer the quiet of the country life. Micah had warned us and so we only booked one night in a hostel and leave in the morning for Lake Wanaka and back to hiking and fishing. We'll be there for three days before heading up to Mt Cook for a couple of days. It is all actually quite tiring. Are days are long and filled and I am sleeping so hard for the first time in years. Now, I am not complaining--
Sending much love from the far, far south. xo Linny