The Travelling Life of Silvan Colani
I got off to a good start. Thanks to a timely arrival in Auckland, I managed to connect onto an earlier flight to Christchurch - my usual starting point. My trusted travel companion - a spunky green MGF - was awaiting me patiently there. Me and that MGF go back already three years and I must admit that at 70,000 kms he starts getting a bit old. But with age comes maturity (something I'm still waiting to happen to myself) and the turbo-charged 1.8 litre twin-cam engine certainly did not disappoint: I raced the 450 kms from Christchurch to Wanaka flat out in six hours - including lunch, pee and fuel stops and a 30 minute nap during which I got shat on the leg by a seagull - welcome to New Zealand!
Apart from the bird shit incident, the journey was otherwise uneventful and I arrived in Wanaka ready for greater adventures ahead. Wanaka, by the way, is undisputedly THE best town in NZ. And trust me on this one because I've seen them almost all (at least in the South), including Temuka, Redneck Capital of Boredom. Wanaka's scenic setting on the lake of the same name with the backdrop of snow-capped mountains offers all kinds of outdoor activities, yet it is a completely relaxed place. It is nowhere as touristy as overrated Queenstown, which is best manifested in the fact that there is neither a McDonalds nor a Starbucks in Wanaka!
I was booked with my guide and friend Paul Rogers at Adventure Consultants for an attempt at Mt. Aspiring, a beautiful peak in the Southern Alps, often referred to as the "Matterhorn of the South". Actually, regular visitors to this website (of which, I am sure, there can't be more than three) will know that I went to NZ with the same objective last year only to have my plans thwarted by the ever unpredictable NZ weather.
Understanding NZ's weather, you see, is more an art than a science. The weather forecast is as predictable as the National Lottery and conditions change faster than you can say "thunderstorm". The reason for this, I'm lead to believe, is NZ's exposed position smack in the Pacific and close to Antarctica. Essentially the first thing any weather pattern developed in the Southern Pacific will hit upon is the Southern Alps - exactly our destination!
The good news, however, is that Paul - being more an artist than a scientist - knows a lot about the weather. Unlike me, he knows the difference between a Southerly wind and a Westerly and knows the name and significance of every cloud formation on the planet. As for me, the most I can understand is the weather report on Hong Kong TV where this cartoon character Freddie either goes "aahhh" (sunny) or "ooohh" (rainy). But that's why I hire a guide.
Anyway, back to the story: I met up with Paul on Sunday morning and we were hoping to "fly in" (i.e. take a helicopter ride to the glacier below the mountain) that same day. We picked up two Aussies who were going to share the heli flight with us and together rode Paul's rusty van towards Raspberry Flats (the usual heli pick-up place in the Matukituki Valley (who comes up with these names???). On the way there, we stopped at the pilot's house, where his wife invited us to do some weeding in her outrageously large garden. Having explained to her that being a banker I could not tell the difference between a rotten weed and a blooming begonia, she reconsidered and offered us tea instead.
The fly in was still subject to the weather improving and things just didn't look too good up the valley. There was a big cloud cover which did not allow sufficient visibility to fly. We reached the road end at Raspberry Flats late in the afternoon (after Paul's Rustmobil broke down in the middle of nowhere from a bout of road fatigue) and waited patiently for the clouds to lift. Of course, they did not and we resigned to camp in the van in the hope for better weather next day. We cooked dinner on a gas stove in the wind-shelter back of the van (not very smart from a fire safety point-of-view, I thought …) and told Aussie jokes to keep the spirits high. The best one, which I'm still laughing about today, must be repeated here for posterity's sake:
An Aussie and a Kiwi are on a long road trip through NZ. Suddenly they see a sheep with its head stuck in a fence. The Kiwi stops the car and points to the sheep: "Mate, I think we should have a go at this." The Kiwi goes over, pulls down his pants and shags the sheep from behind. When he's finished, he says to the Aussie: "Alright mate, it's your turn now!"
So the Aussie comes over and sticks his head into the fence!!!
Hahahahahahahahhahha!!! Hilarious! Even the two Aussies couldn't help laughing!
As an aside, typing "Sex with Sheep" into my web browser yielded over 427,000 results, indluding the headline "Man has sex with sheep in Nativity shed" and another joke:
