I spent four days walking the Queen Charlotte Track in New Zealand, which is over 70kms through the Queen Charlotte Sounds. Absolutely brilliant. You walk the track with only a daypack, and your main bag is picked up and dropped off at your accomodation by water taxi. Yes, accomodation – you don’t even have to camp. Needless to say, Mr. T and I did much walking and talking and eating and blissfully lowering ourselves into spa pools. Edited highlights:
DAY ONE
Arrived at waterfront in Picton and were taken by water taxi to our starting point. Full of piss and vinegar, decide to do a side track to a waterfall. Estimated time = 30 minutes. At approximately minute 6, I fall abruptly to the ground. Slippery! Ah ha! Funny! Return to upright position and continue walking. Waterfall is very pretty. Take many photos. Return to track start and begin tramp proper. Dance gaily around 71km marker (we were walking the track backwards, so the markers counted down). Begin to walk – vertically up a large hill covered with shale. Ah hah! Shale! What fun!
Vertical hill shows no sign of letting up. Every time top is reached, the track turns a corner and continues climbing. Pant loudly, in manner of dog or asthmatic. Remark bitterly on the lack of mountain goats and snow which should be sure to appear any minute, due to our current altitude. Nobly bear Mr. T’s insults, as he begins a Ministry of Funny Walks walk to show me how easy this is. Mr. T skids on shale. Ah hah! Funny! Cheer up immeasurably. Stop and look at gorgeous views, while pretending heart is not about to jump out of chest. (In that photo, see that little white outcrop in the middle? That’s the wharf we were dropped off at. It’s a long, long way down.) Find out later that this part of walk is one of the steepest sections of entire track. Feel slightly better. Once high point is reached, terrain for rest of the day is relatively flat or downhill. Walk for approximately 4 hours through beech forests and other native bush. Hear only birdsong and cicadas. Cross innumerable mountain streams. Enjoy self immensely.
DAY TWO
Short walk of about 8 kms from one accomodation point to the next. Scenery just as beautiful, with ocean views across the sounds visible almost all the way. Dip into scroggin mix (prepared earlier by throwing scoops of bulk bin seeds and nuts into bags, then adding scoops of bulk bin chocolates and lollies. Nutritious!) Find that Mr. T has bitten all the heads off my mini chocolate fish. Complain bitterly, as seeds and raisins are now sticking to the marshmallow. To apologise, Mr. T offers me a chocolate-coated peanut from his scroggin mix. Is not chocolate-coated peanut. Is chocolate-coated coffee bean. Flail feebly as coffee hit enters bloodstream. Realise this goes some way to explain Mr. T’s erratic walking style. See lots of birdlife including friendly weka who walks right up to us. Offer weka a cashew from scroggin mix. Accepted.
DAY THREE
Very long day – over 20 kms. Manage to make good time while taking sidetracks up to lookouts and many stops along the way for photos. At end of incredibly long day, walk down to accomodation. Collapse. Haul self up to get clothes for dinner out of main bag. Clothes all appear damp, and in some cases soaking wet. A mystery! Decide bag must have been splashed by rogue wave whilst being transported by water taxi. Throw all clothes in washing machine and go to take a spa. Upon returning from the spa, waylaid by friendly fellow walker, who had seen my bag fall off the wharf and bob merrily about in the bay for 5 minutes while the water taxi people found a dinghy and rowed out to get bag. Let’s recap this bit. My bag FELL OFF THE WHARF and FLOATED around the bay. The water taxi people DID NOT TELL ME THIS, instead choosing to deliver bag to hotel and scarper. Feel very glad I had, for some reason, transferred all extra camera batteries, chargers and other electronics into Mr. T’s bag that morning. Mutter darkly about water taxi people, but cannot summon energy due to almost complete exhaustion. Nearly fall asleep over dinner.
DAY FOUR
Another 20 km day, which includes several very big hill climbs. Appear to have discovered some fitness somewhere, as hills are strenuous but not impossible. Parts of the track look like hobbits should appear at any minute. Keep stopping to look at plants and birds and rocks and things, and as always the incredible views. Dodge the occasional mountain biker coming the other way. Mr. T sets a fast pace as we need to reach the end of the track by 3.30pm to make the water taxi back to Picton. Arrive at end of track with almost 2 hours to spare. Collapse victoriously at small cafe. After about an hour, realise that body has stiffened up to such an extent that I will never be able to move again. Plead with Mr. T to push me off chair so I can roll down the beachfront towards wharf. Mr. T refuses, instead gaining much enjoyment from watching me lurch like the undead towards the beach. Collapse onto water taxi. Realise have just walked over 70 kilometres. Am athlete! Potential Olympian! Extreme sports-type person! Next stop – Everest!
Sounds exhausting! :)