Since many people have asked what (if anything!) we’ve learned or concluded from all of our journeys, we thought we’d share with you some of our feelings after this year of travel. These reflections are presented in no particular order, and please don’t extrapolate too judgementally from these narrow observations; we don’t intend this to be a complete summary, rather to communicate just the most immediate gist of our experiences.

First and foremost: the United States is the greatest, most wonderful country on this planet. Period. There, we’ve said it. One can probably never adequately appreciate the freedoms, opportunities, selections, varieties, beauty, etc. that exist here and are perpetually being expanded upon.

This is not, in any way, to denegrate any of the places we visited (though some deserve it!), only to reaffirm something that many people seem eager to forget. It is also not to pretend that the U.S. is free from its many problems, but for a great many people we’ve met around the world it would be the preferred place to live.

We tried (and will continue to try) to always appreciate having the good health to enjoy all this traveling. We each had a few days of various afflictions, and they really served to make us aware that a. it just doesn’t matter how wonderful and fabulous a place is, if you don’t feel good, it’s difficult to enjoy any of it; and b. we were not always in places where we’d want to see what kind of medical care we’d have received if needed. (see bullet point above!)

It’s easy, but often wrong, to glorify and romanticize foreign places and people simply because they’re foreign.

In fact, people are so much the same around the world, and most of those that aren’t are wishing they could be more like the rest of the world (or at least their idea of it) and are attempting to get there. Sure, there are tribes and little villages of Maori (some of them) and Masei and Hmong who cling to their traditional lifestyles, but for the most part people all over the world wait on line for ice cream with their children, want to see American movies and television, want better health care, kvetch about their spouses (with a similarity and universality of topics eerily familiar to us all), and, especially, want more money (even a primitive Masi village elder upon hearing that women in America can earn more than men immediately said “hmmm, so I could marry 6 or 7 of them and have lots of money!”).

That all being said, what we call multi-culturalism is indeed a growing phenomena worldwide, and will continue to be so since as the world becomes more homogenious, people will more and more reach out for a greater sense of reaffirmed identity.

Most big cities are becoming so similar as to be less and less individual and interesting.

Many of them are certainly still interesting in their own ways, but these tend to be the historical legacies – architecturally or artistically (Venice, Amsterdam, Florence), or have natural and unique attributes (Stockholm’s archipeligo, Table Mountain in Capetown). But it sure seems that very few places can resist McDonalds, The Body Shop, Pizza Hut, etc.

If you’re going to speak only one language, make sure it’s english!

It’s beyond comprehension how much truly varied and beautiful art – painting, ceramics, fabrics, furniture, architecture – exists throughout the world;

It’s also amazing how much quality local, indigenous music can be found in most countries;

The U.S. has gotten way overboard as far as political correctness goes. Most of the rest of the world can deal with racial differences (genuine and not so) in a casual and matter-of-fact way that would be simply unacceptable to many “enlightened” Americans.

When checking into a hotel room that has a clock/radio, before you go to sleep, make sure the alarm isn’t set. (and especially not for sometime in the middle of the night)

We sure learned a few things about several of our friends!

And you reeeeaaally get to know someone after being with them almost 24 hours a day for months on end.

It will be a while (if ever!) before we can go to a zoo without feeling a bit of sadness;

It’s good to travel with a few bars of your favorite soap (now, about those beds and pillows. . .)

Traveling with the laptop computer was definitely a mixed blessing.

Having access to the net, to news and to email certainly took much of the isolation out of being far away; the net will probably soon replace CNN as the fix of choice for traveling info junkies. And the emails certainly allowed us the comfort of knowing that all was fine with everyone back home.

But — how much were our exotic experiences and accompanying feelings affected by having so many friends, and so much familiarity, always at our fingertips? We’ll never really know, but we won’t be taking any long trips without it!

We’ll never take for granted cheap airfares and plentiful non-stop flights!

Nor will we ever complain about the condition of the roads in the U.S. (traffic, yes)

No, we still don’t know a good travel agent. We’ve worked with many, and while some were reasonably good at some things/places, there’s just no substitute for doing your own homework (even a little goes a very long way), and making sure your plans are a function of your likes, desires, style, etc.

What are evidently universal and basic human desires, combined with the importance and creativity of the travel industry has made several places while not interchangeable, at least pretty damn familiar: Napa Valley, South Africa’s Winelands, Hawkes Bay in NZ; Queenstown, Aspen; Lake Tekapo in NZ, Lake Louise in Canada; beaches in Fiji, Bali, the Carribbean. This list could go on and on, but the point is that not everything foreign is worth the effort to travel to, or is even that foreign!

Sure, it was great to go mountain biking in New Zealand, walk on a glacier in Norway, and see the sunrise over Borobudur Temple, but everyone can find their own Bali or Golden Triangle or Magical Mountaintop that works for them. That may be on the deck of a home in the woods, in the faces of their children, on a chessboard, or an infinite variety of personally fulfilling, affirming and actualizing quite attainable experiences.

That all being said, we certainly do have our favorites – experiences we’ll never forget or can’t wait to return to, and these include (in addition to those mentioned above): Torres del Paine National Park; the people in New Zealand; the World of Birds; the food in Thailand; our day in Halong Bay; the many wonderful and amazing gardens we’ve visited (Hidcote, Kirstenbosch, Christchurch, etc.); the unique beauty and solitude of Venice; walking into the Crater Lodge after the night of the termite hatch; driving the Troll’s Way; the faces and roots of Angkor City; hiking the Dolomites; our Swedish massages in Sweden; the empanadas in Buenos Aires; the hours spent on the Serengetti; the cornucopia of scenery (and rainbows!) on New Zealand’s South Island; Neta’s pasta sampler; the catwalks at Iguazu.

Honestly, though, these just begin to scratch the surface of our memories, which will be entertaining us for a long while. (and we’re certainly not done traveling and exploring!)

Don’t get us wrong — we wouldn’t trade in even one day of our travels (well, maybe one or two days do come to mind. . .) and feel that we’ve taken something from virtually every experience. Moreover, by stepping outside of our familiar, comfortable routines and being presented with – and successfully dealing with – different and challenging situations, we’ve gained a renewed sense of self-confidence.

(Of course, it’s not as though we’d never had challenges before, but in our travels we’ve done things (some of our own choosing, some not) that have left us with an inner comfort in our abilities to deal with, and react to, unanticipated circumstances)

We’re hopeful that all that we’ve seen and experienced will allow us the perspective to view things when they happen to us in a broader context and to not take things too seriously or get too locked into any type of rigidity.

It’s doubtful that – unlike many people we met – we’ll ever live with 15 family members in a small, cramped apartment, that mass genocide will take place in our country, or that we’ll desperately want to move our family and become citizens of another country. So we’ll try to remember that when we have a bad day at work, when someone cuts in front of us and takes our taxi, when our car needs yet another repair, or when some eagerly-anticipated plans get rained out.

and finally,

Milton had an experience while in New Zealand that hopefully will serve as a template for the rest of his life:

when we were in Sedona (Arizona) in November, we stopped in at a “psychic fair” that was taking place that weekend. The guy who did Milton’s reading was spookily, though entertainingly, accurate and insightful about a variety of topics and details. He then said that it was very important to go to New Zealand; he didn’t know exactly why, but it could involve an experience, meeting a person, a revelation while there, whatever, it was just important to go there.

While our time in NZ was indeed special, nothing so mystical actually happened, or at least not that we’ve yet identified. However, the knowledge that such a thing was “destined” forced/allowed me a receptivity to things and to pursue things that I most probably would not have otherwise. If someone, for whatever reason, gave me the name of someone to look up or call, I made myself do it; I read magazine articles and the local newspapers with a heightened awareness and interest (was there perhaps a new business or investment idea here?); I struck up conversations with people I probably wouldn’t have – i.e., instead of just reading on a plane or bus, I’d chat with our neighbors; we played the lottery. All in all, it made for a wonderfully – and tangibly – more heightened experience, and enabled me to see, feel and absorb things that in all honesty I wouldn’t have made the effort to otherwise.

It’s certainly been said before (to wit, “Every once in a while you can get shown the light, in the strangest of places, if you look at it right” – Hunter/Garcia), and though it may not be possible to live every day, and to approach every experience, with that level of awareness tucked away but not forgotten, I’m certainly going to try.

Yes, it probably sounds a bit trite and new-age, but going through life with the belief that something significant might happen today, or on this trip, or during this meeting – but only if you are open to it, or make at least an effort to facilitate it (whatever “it” may be) – will allow you to experience life as though wearing a glass mask, instead of just opening your eyes, underwater.

An early up for us since Milton, after a quick stop at the buffet of plenty, had to get over to the dive shop for his 1-hour lesson. The only difficult part was how cold the pool was. After finishing a short classroom briefing and some in-water practice, he was able to meet up with Wendy for her breakfast, since the weather was too choppy to go to the outer reef and so we wouldn’t leave for 45 minutes. The boat with Milton, Dimitri (the other beginner diver, who’s from Russia and speaks english not good), Dave and Michelle (a nice Australian couple), and a large group of Japanese tourists then set off for the fringe reef off Hook Island.

We did a one-hour dive around the reef and saw a nice variety of colorful aquatic life, including many large, flat batfish. Wow is this scuba thing cool! Don’t know why I never did it sooner, other than there just wasn’t much opportunity while growing up in Arizona. Takes a little getting used to, and I felt like I was using up my air way too quickly, but it turned out I was actually right on target. Getting fully certified is high on the priority list for June!

We had a very nice buffet lunch and sat around relaxing and admiring the beautiful tropical island and blue seas. Then an afternoon hour-long dive along the coral wall of the island. Nothing too far out of the ordinary (other than being able to breathe underwater) but some large sea cucumbers and a 6-foot green spotted moray eel. We then sped back to Hayman, stopping to see some eagles in their nest atop some large rocks off of Hook Island (their nest was absolutely enormous and looked like it was constructed out of tree branches instead of twigs).

Then a session on the exercise bike (not a great one; still have never used one as neat as the virtual reality one in the Alvear) to tune up for Moab, followed by a massage session with Giselle. It was an all-shiatsu session and was remarkably intense; therapeutic, too, I guess. Thus adequately drained, it was back to the room to pack up on our final night of international travel (for now).

Meanwhile, at 10am, Wendy went on the 90 minute Garden tour, where she learned all about the incredible – and difficult – work, planning and money that goes into maintaining these lush and lavish grounds. Then a brief rest stop back at our isolated room, and an early afternoon trip out to the Reef Dancer. Unfortunately, the speed boat ride to get out there was during a short but heavy tropical downpour. Once there, the sun reappeared and everyone enjoyed up close and personal glass-bottom views of the whole range of local sea creatures, including the myriad different corals, and a 4-foot Maori Ress (so called because their faces resemble the war paint used by the Maoris) named Barry (on their reef, Milton’s boat had seen a similar fish whom the crew had named Fat Albert). Then several of the party jumped in and did some snorkling. It was then back on the speed boat, though this time in the sunlight, followed by some reading in the room and then taking Milton’s place on Giselle’s (the birthday girl) massage table.

Wendy then got back to the room just as The Simpsons was starting, so we watched what turned out to be a particularly good one (Lisa’s supposed genetic predisposition for dumbness). It was then room service dinner, which was basically the same as last night (the asian stir-fried vegetables) except with some good goat-cheese bruschetta instead of their tepid soup. We then finished packing for tomorrow’s full-day-and-overnight flight (though we land in LA 4 hours before we take off in Sydney) and cried; well, not really, (we’re ready to come home) but it is a bit sad to be finished with this round.

Just another day here in Whitsunday paradise. We lolled around in our lovely room, reading on the terrace, until heading off to breakfast in the late morning. Quite the copious buffet spread. We sampled most everything, then sat for a while enjoying the beach-front setting.

We went for a walk around the tropical, verdant and flowerful grounds, then headed up and around the island on the loop walk. It took about 2 1/2 hours, and afforded wonderful panoramic views of the Coral Sea, which has at least 4 shades of blues and greens. We also passed through several shaded areas, containing one particular tree variety that the butterflies (dark brown with bright blue spots) evidently really like, since we saw them by the dozens alighting on the tree then in one little cove we were in the midst of hundreds of them. It was fascinating to be among so many, all flying and darting about us in their crazy ways!

Though it was fairly hot, the lush trees provided much-appreciated shade. Most of them had whitish bark, and that, along with their bright green leaves, provided an enhancing contrast as we gazed through and over them at the colorful sea in the distance. We came back, walking along the beach back to our East Wing room and spent a few hours reading and channel surfing.

Milton then went for a brief workout, primarily to use the Skywalker – a sort of high-tech cross-country ski machine. It was then time for our “intensive facials”, which were actually intensely relaxing. We ordered in some room service and marvelled again at the velocity of the wind outside (though it’s probably just the many palm and other leaves making it all sound more fierce than it really is).

Dinner was the blandest pumpkin soup, a caesar salad with turkey (the first time we’d had turkey in two months), and some stir-fried vegetables that were so good we’re planning on having it tomorrow. We then watched tonight’s episode of “All Saints”, the Australian hospital soap opera. We had to watch it since one of the women from the Daintree said that Wendy looked just like Georgie Parker, the star of the show, but we just didn’t see it. Don’t think it will be displacing “ER” too soon, either. (we did learn some new Aussie slang and terms, though. At least what we could understand!)

We then had an early evening, as we have early diving and snorkling tomorrow.

We were again serenaded by the wild cawing of the local aviary population for our wake-up call. We made our way along the boardwalk through the thick rainforest to breakfast, where we grabbed the remaining little chocolate croissants, had a couple delicious toasted english-muffin type things and some fresh fruit.

Then it was into our car for the ride back to the Cairns airport. Certainly a much nicer drive in the daylight, along the rugged coastline of the Coral Sea, with thick forested hillsides on our left. The airport, like all we’ve visited down under, was pristene and quiet, and even had a juice bar where we were reunited with our beloved watermelon juice. The flight to Hamilton Island was about an hour, on a small but uncrowded plane. There, we boarded the large luxury launch (with honeymooning couples from all over the world) for the 45 minute boat ride through the Whitsunday Islands to Hayman.

The area is fabulously pretty – set along the Great Barrier Reef there are hundreds (at least) of small tropical islands in this bluest, greenest ocean. Hayman is fairly small, and the resort is the only construction on the island. This place is as spectacular as its surroundings! Nestled into the hillsides, on its own beach, with a few pools (one being one of the world’s largest, a wrap-around octagonal shape), copious water activities, several restaurants, etc. We settled into our lovely room and slid open our patio doors so we could enjoy the white noise of the beach and the cool sea breezes.

We lunched at the Beach Pavillion restaurant, starting with a Caesar salad and some prawns and oysters; mains were pasta with red sauce, broccoli and some crustacean meat (which they call bugmeat, but was actually quite tasty) and a salad nicoise with seared tuna. It was all wonderful, as were our two blenderized fruit juice concoctions. Dessert was some tasty nougat-flavored ice cream (even though the sea breezes had by that time made us a bit chilled).

We walked around the grounds, stopping at the medical center so Milton could get approved for Wednesday’s beginners’ dive, and since their Chiropractor was in on Mondays, we figured it had been almost 7 weeks, why not? She was American-trained and was originally from Kentucky but has been here for 9 years (quite the amusing accent she now has!) She uses “low-force” adjusting – as opposed to the cracking we were used to; it was so low that we’re not sure it really did anything.

We then went back to the room for some reading (we’d picked up 2 Int’l Herald Tribunes in the airport for the first time in weeks!) and relaxing, then Milton went for a workout, and learned that their 6:30 aerobics class would have just been him, so opted for the little gym instead.

The rest of the evening was relaxing, with the winds and waves whipping up an active symphony for us.

This place is a hoot, and a scream. Literally! We slept to the aquatic and animal sounds of the rainforest and toward the morning were awakened by various jungle cries of what we presumed to have been birds, though some of them could have been monkeys.

The large Daintree rainforest area has recently been designated a World Heritage Site, due to the diversity of plant and animal life found here. We made our way along the wooden walkways through the rainforest (this whole place is built amazingly into the jungle) to breakfast. En route, we saw our first giant Golden Orb Spider building its web along the wall of a neighboring lodge; including it’s 8 arms, it was roughly the size of our hand. They’re allegedly not harmful, though (so don’t worry, GG!)). Breakfast was the usual continental, though we did try a good custard apple, which was a large, gelatanous/custard like fruit, but tasted more like citrus. It was then time for our full-day rainforest tour.

We were picked up by Norm, our guide for the day, who was gaunt but chipper, with a long, full scraggly beard (looking like the Australian Unabomber) and whose accent combined with his mumbling made it a real challenge to understand him. (though we did sort of get better at it as the day went on) We boarded the minibus, where two other couples were already sitting: a younger couple from Canada and an older couple from southern Australia, the husband of which was even harder to understand than Norm! We drove to the point where we and the bus crossed the Daintree river on a small ferry, then drove a short while to the point where we boarded a small boat for an hour cruise up Cooper’s Creek, a several km-long estuary of the Coral Sea. All along, Norm was giving commentary over a speaker system that served to amplify his marginally-intelligible ramblings.

The boat ride was nice, motoring slowly between the massive mangroves on both sides, looking for crocodiles. We saw two of them, though just their heads peeking out of the water along the shoreline, and we did see several of the more prevelant inanimate creatures often mistaken for them – the logadile.

It was then a short drive to our picturesque and serene lunch spot along the riverbank. We enjoyed grilled fish and steak, along with good fresh salads and fruit. The two of us then took one of their small canoes and paddled up the stream for a little while, absorbed in the bountiful green beauty and tranquility (and really appreciating that despite the humidity it was pleasantly cool). We all then drove a bit further to a boardwalk that went in an 800 meter loop through the rainforest.

We spent about an hour traversing just that small distance, with Norm explaining (somewhat more understandably by this time) fact after fascinating fact about what we were seeing. This particular rainforest is mostly original growth (having never been destroyed by ice ages, volcanic ash or broad fires), meaning that many of the plants and trees are of species that are literally millions of years old and found nowhere else. (In the greater Daintree rainforest, there are over 3,000 varieties of trees) Under a mostly dense and seemingly infinitely varied towering canopy, we saw a most amazing array of vines, trees, roots, etc: vines that grow to hundreds of feet in length; palm vines that are as thin as a piece of string but lined with hooked barbs for growing up trees and which are strong enough to support tremendous weight; trees that grow down from a seedling lodged in the canopy and eventually take root into the ground; a strangler fig which had completely entwined a large tree in its lattice-work of vines, then the tree had died and decomposed, leaving the hollow, enormous circular fig vine structure to flourish on its own; many vines twisted into long corkscrews; and on top of all that, an entire separate ecosystem lives atop the canopy. As Norm said, one doesn’t learn the rainforest by going deeper into it, but rather as a function of how long one stays in and studies it (at least we think that’s what he said).

We then drove a bit further to Cape Tribulation (named, of course, by Capt. Cook) beach, where we took in the wonderful view from the cove of the forested cliffs on both sides of the beach, then had some juice and cookies. We drove back, sporadically dozing off as the sun had gotten warm and Norm was droning on (though some of his commentary was actually quite informative)

We used the little remaining daylight to walk the 10 minutes to the Lodge’s waterfall, where we admired it for a moment, then ran back inside as we were getting bitten up something fierce. We read for a bit, then went to the restaurant for dinner. Always a kick when these places so far away from civilization have such great culinary offerings. We had a radiccio salad w/pancetta and baked parmesan slices, a great tandoori chicken salad, grilled barramundi (a local fish specialty) and pasta w/seafood. It was all top notch, even though it took much too long to arrive. We also got the story from Steve the Manager about the couple who’d shown up here to elope and the fun time (and great pictures) that was had by all.

We walked home along the wooden boardwalk, marvelling at how we were in deep in the tropical rainforest while a day and a half ago we were on a farm on a crisp fall day.

We partook of another leisurely morning around the breakfast table of Lesley and Alister before heading back to the cottage to pack up and depart.

We drove an hour or so to the little town of Geraldine, where we saw a sign for their museum of antique vehicles. Sounded like it was worth a look, so we found it, paid our $4 and walked around. A small but enjoyably eclectic collection of old vehicles – Fords, electric cars, roadsters, old motorcycles – and a whole large barn filled with a fascinating, colorful collection of tractors of all sizes, from over 100 years old to the ’60s. We then stopped for lunch at the Berry Barn Bakery where we sampled a variety of their little pies – chicken, veggie, beef and mushroom, bacon and egg – none of which tasted as good as they looked. Ditto for the variety of desserts we also tried. Alas, still nothing to compete with Simple Simon! We finished by perusing and tasting their many offerings of condiments of all flavors and combinations.

It was then back on the road for the remaining drive to the Christchurch airport. We drove mostly through fog and drizzle, though with some clear, and even sunny, patches now and then. The last 90 minutes or so were through the Canterbury Valley, and we were reminded of the gentle rolling countryside of England and Scotland, especially with all the sheep and the gray cloudy drizzle! We got to the airport (hard to believe it’s been over three weeks since we’ve been at one!) and regretfully handed over the keys to our Explorer. The Christchurch-Brisbane flight was uneventful, but since we were making an extremely tight connection, they moved us up to first class seats as we began the descent. There, we saw the most fiery, vibrant sunset with the deepest shades of reds and oranges; perhaps the view really is better from first class.

When we disembarked, we went on a mad dash to reclaim our luggage, pass through immigration and customs, check in for the next flight (where, for the first time anywhere in the world, they made us check one of our carry-on bags claiming it was too heavy; and this was a 1/3-full 737!), catch the bus to the domestic terminal and board the Brisbane-Cairns flight, all accompanied by a Qantas attendant.

We landed, and were met by Bob and his huge stretch limo for the 90 minute drive to our eco resort. We arrived somewhat delirious, as it was almost 1:00am NZ time, and met the nice and efficient manager, Steve. We were shown to our lodge, which, like all 15 others here, is set up on stilts nestled in the rainforest, with a screened-in porch right over a stream and near an ambient waterfall. It was astonishingly humid, but for the first time for us it was also somewhat cool, so that was a very welcome change. We had a little cheese and fruit platter and fell into our damp bed.

We love those electric blankets (and thought of you, JD!), but not this mattress, which feels like a squishy waterbed. A lovely breakfast, then we waited a bit for Alister to come by in his pickup and pick us up. The three of us squeezed into the cab, with his five dogs (four sheep dogs and Lesley’s playful golden retriever) and three rams in different compartments on the truck bed. We spent a few hours moving rams into the different paddocks where the ewes were as they were all beginning to come into heat. The ratio was about 3 rams for each 200 or so ewes, so those rams will have a busy next few weeks. We mostly drove around their expansive station, but once we herded a group of rams along with the help of Jan, the herd-dog used for close-in herding. [among sheepdogs, there are "herd" dogs - which herd sheep toward their master and don't bark (though we did see her take a bite out of the backside of one of the sheep when they weren't moving to her liking), and there are "hunt-away" dogs - which herd the animals away from their master and do bark; Alister has two of each. Donald, his brother and partner, has five dogs of his own. He and his family live on the other side of the station]

At one point, we were atop a high hill on their property and were afforded a breathtaking, sweeping view of the Canterbury Valley, the many small mountain ranges, and the imposing and snow capped Southern Alps (including, finally, a clear view of the elusive Mt. Cook, at 13,000+ feet the highest in New Zealand). Alister just couldn’t have been nicer as he went about his business with us in tow, patiently answering all our questions, showing us the workings and explaining all the nuances. Both he and Lesley are quite interesting people, as she’s also a social worker specializing in relationship counseling (when married couples separate here, the government pays for 6 sessions of counseling to assist in settling everything and best avoid the courts) , and he’s the head of a local co-op for their electrical power as well as being quite involved with country-wide efforts to increase the brand awareness of New Zealand Merino Wool. All in all, it was a fascinating glimpse into daily life here on the farm. We were fortunate, too, with the weather which today had completely cleared (after a gloomy foggy morning) and was cool but with a warm sun.

We were brought back to our cottage in the early afternoon. As we’d been eating so well, we passed on lunch, but Lesley had said that she’d leave some muffins for us. When we went inside, they were waiting for us on the kitchen counter, freshly baked, in a basket with a kitchen towel covering them, right out of Norman Rockwell (or his New Zealand equivalent). There were four warm banana-chocolate muffins, and we couldn’t help but to consume three in short order. We then sat and read (and took a quick cat nap!), then headed out to drive around the area.

We parked at Lake Tekapo, and started up the Mt. John Observatory trail. It was a bit steep, but we were tramping (as they say here) through a wonderfully fragrant pine forest with intermittent views of the large, magically colored lake. We got to the top and walked around the loop that circled the observatory buildings. (as the sign told us, this observatory is not world-class, but at 44 degrees south, it is the southernmost on the planet and so can offer a unique vantage point) We were able to take in most of the Southern Alps and to marvel at the milky-turquoise-light-blue color of the lake, set amongst large pine forests.

We came back down, and Wendy did a masterful job of driving us safely back (staying on the left side all the way!) home. We relaxed for a bit, ate the last muffin, then went up to have dinner. Again, a good, home-cooked meal! A green salad, some chicken-divan type casserole with pasta, steamed broccoli and a perfectly crisp and light local Savignon Blanc. Dessert was a delicious homemade creme brulee with fresh fruit salad. We sat around chatting for a while, welcomed in the big fluffy cats Silver and Monty, (perfectly capping Wendy’s day after playing with the 5 dogs earlier) then walked back to the cottage under another unreally clear and star-studded sky.

We switched roles for a morning – Milton stayed in and made some phone calls while Wendy went into town to do some errands. We (with great sadness!) checked out of our Nugget Point apartment and headed, yet again, for Wanaka and The White House, though this morning some rain had returned. Although we had done the Wanaka-to-Queenstown drive twice already, this time we were going the other way, and it looked almost completely different. The ride was through a deep, winding valley of amber brush and grass, and many groves of large golden-leafed trees along the turquoise-colored Shotover river.

We arrived at the restaurant and placed our order with the strange but intriguing owner and chef, Peter. We started with our beloved mezze, but in place of the wonderfully flavorful pesto we got pureed beetroot, since he was still waiting for his herb delivery. Not even remotely an equal substitution, but perhaps our hosts for this evening will be grateful that we were spared some of Peter’s garlic-laden creations. We enjoyed the delicious pan-seared calamari and some mussels, along with a heaping veggie salad. For dessert we just had to get a half-half order of the sumptuous baklava and the chocolate-coconut torte (in the amazing chocolate biscuit crust). Wendy then asked for the recipes of the two desserts, which Peter gladly gave us, then he told us that he was working on a crime novel in which he’ll include a different recipe with each chapter. We had to get on the road, so we bid another farewell and drove off into the clouds.

The 3 hours to the Farmstay were scenic, though a bit different. The surroundings were mostly bare hills, with several mountain ranges in the near distance. We stopped a few times to attempt to photograph the absolutely vibrant, perfectly arched rainbows that we kept chasing. We finally drove past the famed Lake Tekapo, which is known for its unreal color of bright opaque turquoise. Mt. Cook, though, continued to hide from us, as it was again completely obscured by low clouds; maybe tomorrow. . .

We arrived at our farmstay and met the friendly Alister France, who showed us to the little cottage down the lane from their house. We settled in, then headed back to have dinner with our hosts. We met Lesley – Alister’s wife – and the four of us sat down to a delicious home-cooked meal of tomato soup (which was tasty, though a bit too sweet), quite-good lamb, some bland vegetables with good butternut squash, and a very good Marlborough Merlot. Dessert was a raisin-bread pudding type dish, served with pecans and a warm toffee sauce. Mmmmmm.

Over the course of the evening, we learned a lot about the sheep-farming business. This station (“Farm” is small, “Station” is large) is over 35,000 acres and though their main business is the harvesting of merino wool (they have around 9,500 sheep), they also raise beef cattle and some cash crops. We also discussed the superiority of New Zealand Merino Wool (look for the label!) and what it’s like running a farmstay business. Also, that their two sons went off to boarding school at age 10 (13 years ago), since it was necessary in order to give the children a top education and exposure to enough other kids.

We said our goodnights (and gave a final few pets to Silver and Monty, their brother and sister big fluffy cats) and returned to our chilly cottage to throw some more wood in the woodstove and crank up the electric blankets.

Wendy, meanwhile, used her time to explore the beautiful foliage surrounding Nugget. Milton then returned home for another long hot shower, and we headed off for a final day of local sightseeing. We drove first to Arrowtown, a small village about 20km from Q’town. It was quaint – purposefully so- with a main street of small, very old buildings now housing galleries and shops. Most memorable was that this place (as we’d been advised) was the high point of the autumn leaf-turning extravaganza. Not only were the hillsides brilliantly vibrant, but several of the streets were lined with huge trees forming a broad colorful canopy overhead.

Then it was off to Wanaka for an early dinner back at the White House. We took a back road, which cut through and over the mountains. We had a fabulous view back into town and of the Remarkables, before cresting the peak and descending into a steep, narrow canyon of scrub brush and golden yellow grasses. About 1/3 of the way was on a dirt road, and despite engaging our 4-wheel drive, we weren’t entirely comfortable on all the loose dirt and stones. We persevered patiently, and were rewarded with a lovely drive through a valley lined with huge, bright yellow-leafed trees, though we had to again navigate through a large herd of sheep..

We arrived at Wanaka and went to Stuart Landsborough’s Puzzle World. What a fun and funky place! We first visited the hologram hall, which was loaded with some absolutely incredible examples of the art. Then to the Tilted House: several rooms all built on a 15-degree angle (which is steeper than you’d think). Though walking required some effort or assistance, inside one could sit on a chair and ride (what appeared to be) uphill on a rail; stand on a ladder and lean so far forward without falling that you appeared to be almost floating; and see water flowing (what sure looked like) uphill, recreated from the famous Escher print. Back in the main building, there were rooms filled with familiar, and new, puzzles involving all manner of rings, strings, wooden pieces, plastic components, etc., in which several people were deeply engrossed. We then went outside for their centerpiece, the 3-D maze. It was a large maze with a colored tower at each corner and several viaduct-like raised walkways (thus the third D) with the goal being to get to all four towers. (the average time was 30 to 50 minutes) We wandered around for several minutes, bumping into the same few people over and over as we all grinned helplessly at each other, before figuring that we’d gotten the idea, and it was getting cold, so we found our way back to the entrance (itself an achievement!) and drove off to dine.

We found the restaurant, but it wouldn’t open for dinner until 6:00 or so, and as it was only 4:30, we drove back to Q’town figuring we’d have lunch there tomorrow. We stopped en route at a huge farmstand, complete with its myriad orchards all around, and picked up some more local produce. Then it was into town and to Salero Vino (a Tony recommendation) for dinner.

We started with a tapas plate of grilled chile beef, mussels, and salmon pate; the salmon was ok, the first two were great. Then main courses of lamb stuffed with basil and hazelnuts, served with roasted garlic, and a chargrilled salmon with tomatoes, garlic mashed potatoes, and spinach, both of which were superb. We also had a local chardonnay and a local pinot noir. Dessert was an ok chocolate pecan pie, with a quite flavorful vanilla ice cream. Just to prepare us for next week’s return to the States, as we finished up a group of 3 New York-sounding couples were seated and proceeded to broadcast their conversation.

We took the Wendy-discovered shortcut (boy, we really know our way around this town!) back to the Explorer, cranked up the heat, and zipped home. We packed up, as tomorrow we depart for two nights on a working farm, then fly to the rainforest of Australia. We caught up on our emailing, as we’re not at all sure when we’ll next be able to log on.

Another crystal clear and cool day here in fun city. About 9:00, Milton drove into town to meet up with Tony, his mountain biking guide for the morning. Picked up a kick-ass Gary Fisher double suspension bike and the two of us set off for Skipper’s Canyon. Tony is quite the cool, laid-back, long-haired shredder-dude and will be representing New Zealand at the world mountain biking championships in Quebec this fall, in the downhill and dual-slalom competition. We began by pedalling up a decent grade for a bit too long (8 weeks of no biking except for a few hotel gyms is definitely not the way to stay in biking shape!) We stopped to admire the view down and across the huge and colorful valley, with the lake peeking out between mountains, and then began Milton’s downhill lesson.

Wow, this was a clinic in a hurry! Mostly a steep (at least I thought so) downhill, along a narrow twisting trail with some good rocks to bump over for fun. Among all the helpful pointers Tony gave, one of the more memorable was as you ride down the winding rocky trail, keep your focus on where you want to be going, not fixated on where you are now and you’ll inevitably get to where you want to be. (just like in skiing, snowboarding, business, life. . .) A bit of loosening up, trusting the bike, looking ahead on the trail, some good recoveries, and I was alright. Still had to stop a few times and mentally reset, though. We were frequently pedalling through little streams and mud, though, and that always makes it more fun. We stopped at the bottom and checked out one of the many huts that are situated along the many lengthy trekking trails and in the National Parks. These are for anyone to use, are usually made of stone, and have several beds, a table and a large fireplace. No Nugget Point, but certainly good value for the price!

We crossed the stream, and headed back up to the top. This was a looooong ride, though at a (barely!) manageable grade. We stopped a few times to rest and soak in the scenery. One of the incredible things about this area is that with the myriad different trails, mountains and canyons to be explored on foot or on a bike, they all not only look different in the different seasons, but just over the course of the day — as the sun and shadows change so, too, does the appearance of the mountainsides, the lakes, the terrain, etc. In fact, as we began this morning, the right side of the steep canyon was all light and shadows, which accentuated just how ridged the mountainside was, whereas later as we slogged (at least one of us) uphill, the canyon walls had become brightly sunlit browns and golden grasses.

Tony was sporting enough to drive the Explorer back to Nugget Point, thus letting Milton coast screamingly downhill for an extra 15 chilly minutes. He was also nice enough to take the bikes back into town and return the car to us at NP (he then walked the few minutes home), saving us precious daylight hours.

Wendy had enjoyed a relaxing morning, catching up on reading and correspondence. After Milton showered all the mud off, we set off on the beautiful drive to Glenorchy. Even though one of us had just done this drive yesterday, with the changing light and shadows and colors, it definitely looked different; moreover, there’s just so much to absorb that many repeated viewings would only begin to do it justice. We stopped at several photo ops, then arrived at the Glenorchy Hotel, telling the warm and friendly staff that the menu had looked so appealing yesterday that it was worth the drive all the way back today!

We were introduced to “cooking on the stone” – where they bring the food out to you on a sizzling hot small rectangular stone on which the meat (or whatever) sits and cooks naturally. We started with prawns and mussels on the stone, which were fabulous, then lamb chops in a delicious mustard sauce and a mixed grill (venison, pork, beef, chicken) on the stone, with satay sauce. Along with a Mac’s Gold on draught, it was a divine meal.

We drove back, absorbed in the magenta and bluish shadows making their way softly up the mountains and across the lake (and getting into a discussion of just which drives were the most beautiful and memorable. This then led to our coming up with the phrase that sums up our experience and we’d like to humbly offer to the New Zealand tourist board: “New Zealand: Why go anywhere else?”). Midway back, we came upon a flock of several hundred sheep being herded – by a few eager dogs and a pickup truck – along the road. It took us a while, but we finally made our way past the whole lot of them; just another New Zealand traffic jam. . .

We got home and did some typing and reading. Then our masseuses arrived and we had our first New Zealand massages. Not so great, but better than none at all. Thus adequately relaxed, we called it a night.