Chapter 20

Listen, you are a spoiled lot ! No, there is no drama in this chapter. Nobody falls off a glacier, gets seriously ill, or has a dangerous mishap. Nothing sensational or dramatic happens; just plain ordinary everyday adventure.

Like the time we travelled to Queenstown to stay in the Top Ten Holiday Caravan Park on the shores of Lake Wakatipu in the south of the South Island and the country's longest lake at 84 kms long. In 1860, this town was the subject of a massive gold rush when thousands of desperate men and almost as many entertaining ladies converged here to make their fortunes in different ways. The local river, the Shotover River, has the distinction of being the second highest gold bearing river in history, second only to the Klondike River in Northwest Canada.

The Government purchased this wild frontier town and afterwards pronounced it 'fit for a Queen'. Hence, the name, Queenstown. Officially, the gold rush ended in the early 1900s but there is some basis for believing the pursuit of pleasure is as strong as ever here. Nestled on the edge of the lake shore the town is surrounded by mountains which dip their toes in the Lake. This town is the adventure capital of New Zealand. It attracts more than half a million visitors a year, for winter sports in June, July and August and at all other times, for thrill-seekers searching for unusual pulse-racing past times. We were among the latter.

But first a sour note. It was here our Hiace received its only rejection in nearly two months travelling around NZ. Not posh enough, we were told. 'You have no curtains on the back or side window,' the Top Ten Park receptionist observed. And it was true. Our Hiace contained an inflatable mattress in the rear and two huge beach towels draped over the side windows. 'People could walk past and see you and your husband asleep,' she remarked. The thought flashed through Patricia's mind: 'What kind of people do you admit to to your park that go around peering inside the window of vehicles to see their occupants asleep ?' But there was no point in arguing with her; she had her mind made up.

So off we went to another Top Ten Park, this time just outside Queenstown. Here, they did not seem to attract such curious window-peeping clientèle. We were safe. No one bothered us. We were normal. And they were.

Next day, suffering adventure-withdrawal symptoms, we decided to rectify this unacceptable state of affairs by going on a high-speed jet boat trip through the canyons of the Shotover River – whose gold-filled waters caused a mining stampede a century and a half ago. But first we had to register and legally exonerate the jet boat company from any disaster that might befall us such as drowning, accident or injury. Even after signing all one's rights away, the company – with good reason – urged pregnant women, people with back problems and other serious medical health conditions not to undertake this dangerous but pulsating high-speed river run.

Trish and I had specially travelled to Queenstown to participate in this world-famous adrenalin-rush adventure. No amount of warnings, we felt, would deter us from this heart-pumping experience which is unique to NZ. First we donned three-quarter length 'splash jackets' over which we fastened our life jackets. Then we boarded our jet boat which is specially-built to speed down shallow rivers at high speed and is capable of doing 360 degree-turns in narrow river gorges.

Our boat which cost around 350,000 Euros to build was powered by two Buick 3.8 litre V6 supercharged engines producing 520 horse power. It could travel at speeds up to 85 km an hour, or around 55 mph, in as little as 10 cms, or four inches, of water by drawing water into the boat's internal propellers and thrusting it out through rear nozzles at great force.

One is not tied in by way of safety belts in case of sinking or over-turning but passengers – there were 14 of us on board, plus the driver – are urged to hang on for dear life to heated grab rails in front of them. We had front seats next to the driver, and hang on we did during what was a pulsating 40-minute ride that had our heart racing, our hair and faces drenched, and our minds frazzled with exhilaration. The driving style of our skipper can only be described as suicidal, aiming at canyon walls and river obstructions, and turning away from danger at the last moment, avoiding what could and would have been a messy end. Described as the world's most exciting jet boat ride, our highly-skilled driver raced through the canyons, sometimes in only as little as ankle-deep water, and at others in deep fast flowing torrents that swept everything in their paths. In all, we did eight full 360-degree turns in an action-packed and breath-taking ride.

When it was over, we were left emotionally hung-out. 'You can go again if you wish, but next time insist on a more experienced driver,' our skipper joked.

“That was some mind-blowing fun. I'm glad I did it. It was SO exciting. I never thought I could get so much fun from high-speed river racing and water acrobatics,” Trish said afterwards. I think she was pleased we travelled to Queenstown to taste the excitement.

Next it was up the road to witness people pay NZ $165 or around 66 Euro for the 'pleasure ' of diving off the Kawarau Bridge over a fast-flowing river of the same name with only a rubber band attached to their ankles to save them from disaster. Bungy-jumping was first practiced in Vanuatu in the Pacific where people for centuries have being throwing themselves off specially-constructed wooden towers, their feet held only by vines to the top most platform rung. But the concept has been perfected by Kiwis and the idea exported around the world. It got the official seal of approval in 2004 when then Prime Minister Helen Clarke officially opened a multi-million NZ dollar centre at the Bridge.

Children under 15 years can jump off he Bridge for NZ$105 and over-60s can do it for free. But no amount of inducement would have tempted me onto the Bridge, not to mind jumping off it. The world's first bridge bungy jump took place here in 1988. We saw three jumps from the Bridge when we were there, one of them involving a young man and woman lashed together and jumping in tandem. Nearly all of those who volunteer are young people. My son, Conor, who is 30 now did it a decade ago and told us the buzz and excitement he experienced stayed with him for 24 hours.

On up country to the Alpine village of Hanmer Springs where Maori peoples have known for centuries the efficacy of these naturally-heated waters. Some of these therapeutic hot pools are sulphur pools where the odor emanating from them is more like that of smelling rotten eggs. But there are alternative sculptured rock pools and soaker pools where temperatures range from 33 to 42 degrees Centigrade and which attract huge numbers of visitors each year, even when snow is all around this winter sport holiday resort.

Two hours of this type of thermal pampering costs as little as five Euros per person. Herself and myself decided to 'take the plunge' and were not disappointed. It was delightful. We even had our picture taken in one of the pools by a professional photographer and a copy was sent to Trish's mother a day or two later. Talk about self-indulgence !!!!

Our sojourn in NZ is now drawing to a close. But not yet. We still have a further fortnight in this delightful country before leaving for Sydney on December 31, New Year's Eve, and my son Conor's birthday.

On the way back to Blenheim we were stopped by a police car. The lone policeman on board thought I was driving too slow at 60 kms per hour down a zig-zag mountain road. A speed of 100 kms per hour was permitted, he pointed out. After producing my Irish driver's licence and explaining the Toyota Hiace was not mine, but the usage of it was a gift from friends, he appeared satisfied and we had a general chat at the side of the road. It was the only time the law caught up with us in New Zealand !!!!!

Didn't we tell you at the start of this chapter that there were no nasty surprises in store ? Didn't disappoint, did we ?

More AFTER Christmas, OK ? .