Vietnam Part 3: Ha Long Bay (March 14-16)

We were up, fed, and on the minibus before 8am the next morning. The next four hours were spent precariously weaving in and out of traffic on our way from Hanoi to the coast. We were heading to arguably the most touristy of all Vietnamese tourist spots, Ha Long Bay. This UNESCO World Heritage site is essentially 1500 limestone karsts/islands spread out into the sea. We had booked a three day/two night boat trip on the Prince 3. We arrived and took a little dingy to get on board a beautiful replica Chinese/Vietnamese junk. Off we went into the bay with four other companions, two from the UK and two from the US. For the next couple of days, we cruised, kayaked, read, relaxed, and ate.

One highlight was on the second day when we visited one of the local fishing communities that live in floating houses in the middle of sheltered coves. The scenery was stunning and we even had some nice weather. With a little peer pressure applied from the other travelers, I got Lindsay to jump overboard into the sea. Quite an accomplishment. At the end of the trip we stopped to see one of the millions of island caves in the area. After that we returned to shore and a long four hour bus ride later we were back in Hanoi.

It was late afternoon when we arrived back in Hanoi, so we dropped our bags at the Elegance Hotel and went out for a killer Indian dinner - after five days straight of nothing but Vietnamese food, Lindsay had developed a slight involuntary gag at the mere mention of another Vietnamese meal. After dinner, we picked up our stuff and transferred to the train station, where we boarded our overnight train north to Sapa.

Vietnam Part 2: Hanoi in a Ho Chi Minute (March 13)

Today was our one full day in Hanoi. After breakfast and a little Lindsay work, we caught a cab to the mausoleum of Ho Chi Min. It was a sight to behold. A large, grey stone cube elevated above a stark courtyard with a line of literally thousands of school children waiting to get in. We wandered around the complex and eventually found our way in. Our wait was not that long, and after several security checks we neared the entrance to the tomb, which was heavily guarded by stone-faced military men in white uniforms. A large sign reminded us that "no jostling" would be tolerated, a rule that Lindsay violated multiple times while standing in line.  We entered, proceeded up some creepy steps, rounded a corner, and before us was the zombie-like body of Uncle Ho himself. He was very skinny and pale and I couldn't help but think of how I would escape IF he came back to life and tried to eat us. (I have a bit of a weakness for zombies if you didn't know.)

Once we we done with the viewing, we toured the surrounding grounds where Ho Chi Minh lived and walked though the surrounding neighborhoods, ending up at the not so impressive Temple of Learning. From there, we made our way to a recommended restaurant Quan An Ngoc, which did not disappoint. It was set in a beautiful garden courtyard surrounded by a number of food stalls, all associated with the restaurant. The basic idea was "here's a bunch of delicious Vietnamese street food, sans street." We had a couple of Tiger beers on ice and a scrumptious assortment of dishes including green papaya salad, crab wontons, and lemongrass chicken.

After lunch we walked the 30 minutes back to hotel and took it easy. I went out and bought a bottle of wine for the upcoming trip to Halong Bay and took some more photos. Lindsay, you guessed it, worked. That evening we returned to Quan An Ngoc for another sampling of the best of Vietnam.  Before retiring for the night we popped into a jazz club for a drink.

Vietman Part 1: Definitely not the Hanoi Hilton! (March 12)

We arrived in Hanoi around 3pm and took our prearranged shuttle to our hotel in the middle of the Old Quarter. We had heard good things about the Elegance II Hotel on TripAdvisor, and as usual, TripAdvisor was spot on. We were greeted with warm smiles, amazing service, and an upgrade to the Honeymoon suite: the top floor with a balcony looking over all of Hanoi for $55 a night. So you see, Vietnam is like what Mexico or even Europe must have been like years ago - very inexpensive. So for $55 we were really living it up.  Just to give you a comparison, we stayed in some other very nice places later on for about $10 a night and our train ride from Hanoi to Hue (a 12 hour sleeper) was $6 each.

The rest of that day, Lindsay did a bit of work and later we explored the Old Quarter on foot. After talking to Lindsay's dad, its clear that Hanoi has changed quite a bit in the 35 years since he was there. He had the amazing experience of flying diplomats up to Hanoi at the end of the war and saw the situation first hand. That being said, compared to its sister city down south Saigon (now Ho Chi Min), Hanoi was still a few years behind. We wandered the busy markets dodging scooters and "cyclos," or bike taxis. The place was so alive with movement, sounds, and smells it was a bit overwhelming at times. I say a bit for me, since in my travels to India, China, and Thailand, I was fortunate to have been previously exposed to the pandamonium of Asian cities. Lindsay, on the other hand, was simply blown out of the water. We have been lucky enough to have the opportunity to explore many places in this world, but as I had warned her, Asia is a different ball of wax. The senses are always on overload attemping to survive the kinetic nature of the place.

The evening came, we had a mediocre meal at a restaurant recommended by our Lonely Planet guide (that was the last time we took restaurant recommendations from the guide), and we then went to a water puppet show down near the central lake. Apparently the water puppets are a traditional art form that the rural farmers used in the rice paddies to entertain the villagers. Now it's held in a theater full of video camera-toting white tourists. The parts that we saw were entertaining and beautiful, but Lindsay and I were so jet lagged that we slept through about 90% of the show. Right as the show ended we raced back to the hotel to go to bed.

Vietnam Intro: 1,2,3,4, what am I traveling for, well I don't give a damn, I'm gonna teach in Vietnam

For those of you that don't know, the title of this blog was inspired by a song famously sung at Woodstock by Country Joe and the Fish. As I submitted my paperwork for our Vietnamese visas, I couldn't help but be amazed what has changed over the last 40 years. In the spring of 1970, the Tet offensive and Battle for Hue were nearly two years in the past. The details of the My Lai massacre were finally filtering back to the states, and the anti-war movement reached a tragic turning point on May 4th at Kent State University. Forty years later, I was joining a international band of Emergency physicians and nurses with the goal of bringing Emergency Medicine training to Vietnam for the first time. I has signed up to be a teaching faculty member for the first International Symposium in Emergency Medicine to be held March 22nd-26th in Hue. When I first explained our plans to both Lindsay's and my folks, it was easy to tell that the thought of that country brought back a flood of memories of a crazy time.

I had heard about the symposium through my work over here. I figured it was a perfect opportunity to use my PDL or "Paid Development Leave," a perk that all Queensland Health docs get to allow them to attend conferences or courses. I got the OK from the department chairman and as soon as the dates were free in the schedule, the planning began. I had organized the visas and plane tickets a couple months in advance.  But, we had returned from New Zealand just two and a half weeks prior to our departure for Vietnam, so all the travel details for the sightseeing/touring parts were done last minute. After Meg's visit to Townsville and a hectic few days of packing and working thereafter, Lindsay and I left for Brisbane on the last plane out of town the evening of March 11th. After a couple of beers at the airport bar, we boarded our Singapore Airline flight bound for Singapore at midnight. If you have never been on Singapore Airline, it's my favorite. The warm "clean your face" towels, the beautiful air hostesses in their colorful garb, and the fantastic food all make for a really great international flight. A glass of wine, a xanax, earplugs, and a face mask later and we were in Singapore. We hung out in the airport, had a couple samosas for a snack, and then hopped on our next flight to Hanoi.

Click here to see a photo album with a few of our photos from the trip.

Meg's Visit to Townsville and the Whitsundays (March 2-9)

On March 2nd, exactly one week after our return home from New Zealand, I drove three hours south of Townsville to the Proserpine airport to pick up my sister Meg, who was five days into her three and a half week tour of Australia. It was another half hour drive to our hotel in Airlie Beach, the mainland base for exploring the Whitsunday Islands. While we didn't do any real sightseeing that evening, I did get to introduce Meg to a few things I love about Australia: Tasty cheese and Villa Maria Sauvignon Blanc (okay, technically Villa Maria is from New Zealand, but still....). So Tasty cheese, you may not know, is a real type of cheese here. Not a brand, not an adjective to describe the taste, but a legitimate type of cheese. It's like ordering cheddar, Swiss, feta, or Gouda. Well, while Matt and I both found the idea of a type of cheese being named "Tasty" immensely hilarious, we also found the cheese to be really good. So eventually we had to stop making fun of it.

Back at our hotel Meg and I relaxed with our Villa Maria and cheese and caught up on life, and eventually pried ourselves off the couch to go to dinner in town. We both must have been completely exhausted since we fell asleep at 10.

The next morning Meg and I hopped on the Manta Ray for our day cruise around the Whitsundays. It was sweltering, but before long we were at our first stop for a bit of swimming and snorkeling. The reef we stopped at wasn't so great (pretty brown if you ask me), but at the time Meg hadn't seen the reefs up near Cairns and Port Douglas, so she was still relatively impressed.

We had a good couple of hours out at the reef stop and a nice lunch on board the boat before heading to Whitehaven Beach, my favorite spot of the Whitsundays. The gorgeous views, pure white sand, and aqua blue water make it hard for anyone to dislike Whitehaven. Meg loved it, and I was so happy to have another chance to see it again. By the time we got off the cruise back at Airlie Beach, Meg and I were so worn out from the heat and the sun we spent the evening like the last one: relaxing, finishing up the Villa Maria and Tasty cheese, and hitting the hay early.

Our second day in the Whitsundays was spent on a jet ski tour of the most northern of the Whitsunday Islands, Gloucester Island. Both of us had really been looking forward to this part of the trip, since it is supposed to be a great way to see the marine wildlife without the big crowds. It was fun cruising around on the jet ski, but we saw absolutely no animals - not even a turtle, which are supposedly extremely abundant in that area. I'd by lying if I said we weren't both really disappointed. When we got back to our car from the jet ski tour we had just enough time to drive up to Townsville in the remaining daylight. As we pulled into the city the sun began to set and Meg got a great view of the Townsville skyline.

Friday morning Meg and I climbed Castle Hill with Matt before he headed to work. The rest of the day we spent exploring the area around the Strand and the Strand's water park. That night we made cookies and homemade pizzas and later relaxed out on our apartment's porch.

We couldn't let Meg visit Townsville without taking her to Magnetic Island, so Saturday we got up early, caught the ferry to Nelly Bay, and picked up a moke. Matt randomly decided to take a turn down a small road that led to the island's other ferry terminal and there in the rocks were about ten small rock wallabies. Clearly they were used to being fed by tourists, because they weren't the least bit afraid of us as we approached.

We spent about a half hour enamored by them and then took off for the hiking trail, where we managed to spot a wild koala. For lunch we took Meg to Noodie's in Horseshoe Bay, and the rest of the afternoon was spent reading and napping under the palm trees at Horseshoe Bay Beach and Alma Beach. I think Meg was really enjoying all the much needed (and much deserved) relaxation time. That evening we met a few of our friends for dinner and afterwords found the cheapest food item in all of Australia: 50 cent ice creams at Macca's (AKA McDonald's). Arguably, there is nothing cheaper one can buy outside of a grocery store. I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing that we discovered this so late into our stay here in Townsville.

On Sunday we took Meg up to Paluma with a few of our other friends, Chris, Sara, and Anders. The first part of the day was spent at Little Crystal Creek, the second part at the rock slides nearby.

At 4:30 we raced out of the park to make a mad dash to Frosty Mango, the beloved road side ice cream stand, before it closed. Despite making a wrong turn and having to backtrack, we made it before closing time. Yum! Sunday night Chris, Sara, Anders, and Carina all came over and barbecued with us here at our place. I loved that Meg got to meet our wonderful friends here, since it's such a big part of why we love Townsville so much.

Monday was Meg's last full day in Townsville and I had decided to take her to the Billabong Sanctuary. Anders joined us to surprise his girlfriend Carina, one of the rangers, who happened to be working that day. It was so great to see Carina doing the wildlife shows, including the crocodile show - Carina sure has guts! We also had the opportunity to see a handful of behind the scene things like the baby alligators and the ring tailed possums. But Tuesday came too soon, as that morning I had to say goodbye to Meg as she headed off to Cairns.

New Zealand Part 9: Christchurch and Home (Feb 22-23)

Christchurch is a really a lovely city. I don't use that word very often, but that is what Christchurch is. Lovely. It is supposedly the most "English" of the New Zealand cities, at least with respect to the architecture. And the river, parks and exceptional botanical gardens gave it such a wonderful charm. The beautiful weather helped, too.

Along the way from Kaikoura to Christchurch we had the unfortunate luck to have our windscreen (windshield) struck by a big rock, creating a HUGE crack. It could have been worse of course, but we couldn't believe we spent two weeks driving around on country roads only to have a problem like this happen on our way into the big city. So by the time we checked into our hotel we were tired and a little frustrated. We took it easy that evening and just walked around town, stopping for a drink at a popular bar downtown and a quick dinner at a Korean restaurant near the hotel.

We only had half a day on the 23rd before our plane left, so after checking out of the hotel we spent the entire morning hanging out at the botanical gardens. Eleven hours and $300 later (the $300 being for the rental car charge for the windscreen) we arrived back home in Townsville.

Next up....a visit from Lindsay's sister Meg followed by our trip to Viet Nam.

New Zealand Part 8: The Wine (Feb 20-21)

The drive that afternoon from Abel Tasman to the Marlborough Valley took us on windy roads through part of the Marlborough Sounds. Our base in the Marlborough wine region was a tiny town called Renwick, which is surrounded by acres and acres of vineyards on all sides. In fact, there are over 50 vineyards within a 20 minute car ride from town. We ended up staying at a great little guesthouse called Watson's Way Lodge. After checking in, we got back in the car and drove out into the country to try and catch the sun setting on the valley. We then headed to an English pub for dinner. That is where I had my first taste of Moa, a great boutique beer brewed locally in the valley. After dinner Lindsay did a little work while I played guitar on the porch of the guesthouse.

The next day Lindsay had more work to do, so I went to the grocery store and bought eggs and made her breakfast at the lodge. Once she was done, we got in the car and drove to a few of the more distant vineyards for some tastings. First off was Villa Maria. There we were, at 10AM, having the best time chatting it up with a nice chick from Oregon and drinking stunning wines on a beautiful summer's day.

After that we went to the St. Clair vineyard and then to the Moa brewery. Once we had our fill, we realized that if we kept "tasting" neither of us would able to be behind the wheel of a car, so we drove back to the guesthouse and traded the car for a couple of bikes. Off we went (with helmets) into the countryside looking for the next best glass of Sauvignon Blanc and Pinot Noir. After a couple of stops (one of which was a disappointing stop at Alan Scott vineyard), we were getting hungry so we took our lunch break at Wiarau River vineyard. Good choice. We sat among the vines eating blue cheese quiche and a Mediterranean sample platter.

After a brief nap on the grass under a tree, we were back on our bike and ready to try more wine. Three vineyards later, our palates and legs had had enough, so we rode back to the guesthouse. That evening we played boccie ball at the lodge and cooked up spaghetti with garlic, mussels and white wine while rehashing the day. Both of us agreed Villa Maria was the best with Saint Clair a close second. Between the bike riding, the ungodly amount of wine and a belly full of garlicky pasta, we were asleep by 9:30.

At 4:30 AM we were awoken by the sound of air raid sirens. These went on for at least a minute, followed by and eerie silence. Lindsay and I sat there in the dark wondering about their significance. Surely we were not under attack? Everyone loves the Kiwis. Could it be some natural disaster? Unlikely. In passing I mentioned that hypothetically speaking, IF there was a zombie uprising, the best way to alert the greatest number of people would be to use air raid sirens. When I had finished explaining my logic, Lindsay was silent and I went back to sleep. It was only later that Lindsay admitted to me that the only way she was able to comfort herself enough to go back to bed was convincing herself that IF there was a zombie uprising, the zombies would eat the people who were camping in the tents outside first, which would allow those of us inside the lodge to hear their screams in time to make for the relative safety of the bathroom.

A few hours later we were up and on the road by 10, sans zombies. We made our way through some beautiful grasslands, hit the coast, and headed south toward Christchurch. On the way we stopped to watch a gigantic colony of sea lions with a bunch of pups. We made a quick stop in Kaikoura for some Internet time and a seafood lunch at a roadside stand. Two hours later we were in Christchurch.

New Zealand Part 7: Abel Tasman (Feb 18-20)

The drive from Nelson to Abel Tasman National Park was nice. We were at the top of New Zealand's South Island and the climate was much more wine-and-sun and less sand flies-and-rain. Palm groves were mixed with vineyards and there were a huge variety of fruit trees all along the road. We made our way along the shore to the town of Marahau where we planned to stay for the evening. I had booked a cabin at "The Barn" the month before. Well, when we went to check in they couldn't find our reservation. Without an ounce of worry, I asked "The ORGANIZATOR," my wife, for the neatly stacked and filed computer printouts of all our confirmations. The note from the hostel clearly said "see you on the 18th," and the copy of our bank statement showed we had prepaid for the night. I checked on the calendar in front of me and indeed it was the 18th. For a few minutes the lady behind the desk did a little searching and then returned to tell me that I had indeed made a reservation for the 18th....but for the 18th of January instead of the 18th of February. I checked it and she was right. Sheepishly I gave her my credit card and had to paid for another night, but fortunately the cabins were only $45/night. The Barn was a weird place. It had a random smattering of tiny cabins each with nothing more than just a bed (no electrical plugs and just one microscopic light), and a tiny amenities block with just two showers in the bathroom and four gas burners in the kitchen.

After that Lindsay and I walked down to the beach and hung out for the rest of the afternoon. Returning to the cabin, we were about to shower and clean up when a bus load of sixty 18-25 year old Europeans pulled up and all hell broke loose. Imagine cases of beer, jumbo-sized packages of BBQ chicken, twenty people making a mad dash to the shower, radio music blasting. You know you are married when a hoard of bleach blonde, beer swilling, foreign chicks pisses you off more than excites you. So me an' the misses waddled over to save a spot at a gas stove so those foreign whippersnappers didn't use them all. Despite the mayhem in the kitchen, we actually made a wonderful fresh veggie pasta dinner and shared a good bottle of wine before heading off to bed.

The next day we drove down the street to the kayak shop and got oriented with a group of 8 other kayakers. After a brief kayaking "lesson" in the shallows, we loaded all the boats into the water taxi and took off up the coast to Tonga Beach, where we would get dropped off to start our overnight kayak adventure. Every brochure of Abel Tasman National Park shows two overly tan people calmly kayaking over glass-like green blue water with big smiles on their faces (see above). As our water taxi jumped up and down over the enormous ocean swells and through the gale-force wind and rain, I thought of those brochures. One look at Lindsay and I could tell that the last thing she was doing was smiling. We knew there was supposed to be some mild winds that day, but these conditions were wild. We landed the kayaks at Tonga Beach and precariously took off on the water. With a LOT of effort, we quickly crossed open water to the relative shelter of Tonga Island, where we watched the local seals and seal pups play around in and near the water. We even spotted two penguins in the water along the way.

From Tonga Island there we hugged the coast, exploring the many inlets and estuaries along the coast. Many of them led up river quite a way inland. It was beautiful. At one point Lindsay and I had to power though some crashing waves to get back out of the estuary to sea, and despite almost getting tossed in the drink, we made it. In fact, this trip had a special significance. Lindsay and I have been on many canoe/kayak adventures. We have paddled around alligators in the Everglades and in the crashing waves off of Panama. This however was the first water-based trip that we didn't for a single moment become agitated with each other. Paddling, I have learned, is like marriage. If you're not moving with the same rhythm, your paddles crash together. So, either our success on this trip was because nine months of marriage has taught me about patience and support, or it was just because our boat was long enough that we could essentially paddle independently.

By late afternoon we were getting very tired from the intense paddling, so we pulled into Anchorage Campsite, an alternate to the campsite we had originally booked. We dragged the kayak up the beach, got the tent set up, and cleaned off. Later we had a nice dinner, went for a walk along the beach, and crashed early.

The next morning we got up early and took a walk inland to find "Cleopatra's Pool," a freshwater river/pool in the interior of Abel Tasman. Two hours later we returned to the camp, loaded up our gear into the kayak, and paddled down the coast. This day the water was just like in the brochures, and we got to see a couple more of the little grey penguins. A few hours later we landed back at the main beach in Marahau, dropped the kayaks off, and took a quick shower at the kayak company's facilities before heading east along the coast. Our next stop: the home of one of our favorite white wines in the world, the Marlborough Valley.

New Zealand Part 6: West Coast Glaciers (Feb 16-18)

In the early afternoon of the 16th we drove out of Queenstown and headed northwest toward the west coast. We stopped in Wanaka for an Indian food picnic lunch by the lake and a break for Lindsay to finish some work. Soon after we hit the road again we were on the shores of the west coast and heading north. The drive through Mt. Aspiring National Park was beautiful and the weather was perfect. Our final destination was a campsite at the base of Fox Glacier. We got set up, and after a beautiful sunset (which I took about 100 photos of), we made some mac and cheese and settled in for the night.

The next morning we took a helicopter ride from town around Mt. Cook and landed on Fox Glacier. The night before we had debated the financial appropriateness of the trip, but ultimately Lindsay's desire to spend all of my money won out. Well, it was a good decision. The trip was awesome, heading up the glacial valleys with a birds eye view of all the incredible icy terrain.

After returning to camp, we saw the Fox Glacier from a different perspective and hiked to the terminal edge. From Fox we drove an hour north to Franz Joseph Glacier and hiked to the terminal edge there as well. We stopped for lunch in town and then made our way further up the coast to Westport, with a brief stop at Pancake Rocks and a seal colony. After setting up camp that evening, we we shared a pizza at a bar in Westport and watched a bit of Olympic women's curling. We woke up the next morning in a torrential downpour. Putting the tent away in the rain was a bit of a challenge, but soon we were on the road again and heading toward Nelson. In Nelson, Lindsay did some work while I bought some fresh produce and other groceries and explored the town. It was a short stop in Nelson, and as we made our way out of town toward Abel Tasman National Park, the weather was clearing up.

New Zealand Part 5: 31 Years of Lindsay (Feb 15)

Sleeping in on her birthday? Did Lindsay forget who she married? So....February 15th and we were up at 7 and on the road by 8. We drove out of Queenstown, and as the sun peaked over the mountain tops we made our way northwest along Lake Wakatipu to the town of Glenorchy. The drive was beautiful and it is here that I got my favorite shots of New Zealand.

We arrived in Glenorchy and met up with our tour group for the day. Months prior to this, I had asked Lindsay what she wanted for her 31st birthday. She knew we were going to be in New Zealand, essentially the birthplace of adventure sports, so her options were nearly limitless. She decided that jumping off cliffs into snow melt icy water would be the ideal way to spend her birthday. So that is what we did. From Glenorchy we drove up into the mountains, geared up in wetsuits and hiked up part of the Routeburn tract to a waterfall by the side of the trail.

Before we knew it, the guide was calling out for the birthday girl to get to the front of the line. Imagine if you will, a natural, 20 foot rock slide at about a 60 degree angle, roaring with snow melt. The guide helped us to the top and then announced, "OK, so we are going to go down this on our backs head first....birthday girl, get up here." Needless to say we all nervously laughed since the entire idea of sliding backward and headfirst was ludicrous! In fact, I couldn't even imagine a better scenario for a spinal injury. Before I could get out my last chuckle, Lindsay was grabbed by the ankles, swung around and heading down the slide, head first and on her back. Scary. I am not ashamed to say that I may have peed a bit in my wetsuit at that moment. Soon, however, we were all doing the same and loving it. For the next two hours we jumped, swam, rappelled, and slid through the rocks and icy water of the canyon. By the end we started to get pretty cold, but we were all loving it. At the end of the canyoning section we hiked back to the van, went back to Glenorchy, and ultimately returned in Queenstown in the early evening.

After a long hot shower back at the super fancy apartment, Lindsay and I got all gussied up to celebrate her birthday in style. In town we had a nice glass of wine at a lakeside wine bar and then made our way to dinner at a restaurant called the Bunker. The moment we walked in and and sat down next to the roaring fireplace, I knew I had chosen that restaurant wisely. We were greeted with a couple of glasses of birthday champagne while we evaluated the menu. Ultimately we shared a gnocchi appetizer, a lamb dish, and a pork dish with a wonderful bottle of wine. The food was incredible. Lindsay was happy, ergo I was happy. Overall I think is was quite a memorable birthday.

The waterfall pictured below is where we went canyoning.

New Zealand Part 4: Queenstown (Feb 14)

Despite having just finished the Milford Track the day before, today was not a sleeping-in day. We got up early, packed, and got on the road. Two hours later we rolled into our next destination, Queenstown. We couldn't check in to our hotel when we arrived, so we drove into town and I did a bit of exploring while Lindsay did some work at an internet cafe. From there we made our way to a gondola which we rode to the top of the mountain overlooking the town. After a warmup glass of wine in the restaurant overlooking the breathtaking lake scenery, we were ready for the Berkman-Rohas Grand Prix. Up on the top of the mountain is a fantastic luge track, which I figured would be a great way to settle all of our marital disagreements. Three runs, best two out of three for the right of "who wears the pants" in our marriage. Our first run was on the "scenic" course. Lindsay pulled ahead early and she drove masterfully. Every turn was covered, and no matter what I did I was repeatedly blocked at every opportunity. As we were whizzing around on wheeled luges above New Zealand, I realized that I would have to channel my inner Dale Ernhart to pull off the win. Two thirds into the race, I made my move and drove my luge off the track and onto the grass. As I passed over the grass and then back onto the blacktop I could see Lindsay's eyes filling with rage. Her eyes, however, were now behind me and only moments later, the camera at the finish line immortalized my spectacular victory. If I say so myself, it was one of the greatest come-from-behind, David v Goliath victories in Queenstown luge history. As we pulled into the luge parking spot, I graciously congratulated Lindsay on a nice race, but for some reason she wasnt speaking to me. Needless to say, I let her win the next two races, proving the point of the race in the first place.

Once we were speaking again, we made our way to the hotel. Lindsay had made the reservation and when we walked into the hotel I started getting extremely concerned. I wasn't sure how much the room went for, but I was sure it was MUCH more than I wanted us to pay. It was a gorgeous lakefront huge one bedroom apartment with all the fancy bells and whistles (including a much needeed washer and dryer). As it turned out, Lindsay had gotten a free "it's my birthday" upgrade. NICE. That afternoon, Lindsay had to work, so I went on a jetboat tour up the Shotover River. It was exciting, but not really worth the money. I returned to the hotel with some goodies I picked up at the supermarket and as Lindsay worked, I made some homemade guacamole which we shared with some Oyster Bay Sauvignon Blanc on the lakeside porch watching a family of ducks and the sun set over the mountains.

That night we returned to town for the first of two consecutive memorable dinners. This night it would be at Fergburger, the famous Queenstown burger joint. We shared a Ferg & Blue burger, a Bombay Chicken Burger, a bucket of chips, and a couple of beers. One of the best burgers ever...enough said.

New Zealand Part 3 Milford Track (Feb 10-13)

Around 100 years ago, in an article that appeared in the London Spectator, the poet Blanche Baughan declared the Milford Track to be "the finest walk in the world." If that's not an endorsement, I don't know what is. We had booked our trip over four months in advance, since only 40 independent hikers can go each day and the spots fill up quickly. We found the entire affair very well organized. We started early on the morning of the 10th (Day 1), catching a transfer bus from a ranger station the shoes of Lake Te Anu where we boarded a ferry. After an hour on the lake, we landed at Glade Warf, the start of the track, and headed off into the woods.

We soon had separated ourselves from the other 38 people starting the track that day and felt like we were out in the middle of the beautiful area all by ourselves. The forest was old, thick, and moss covered. The Clinton River that hugged the trail was milky blue from the glacial runoff. The surrounding perpendicular cliffs were 1000 m straight up into the clouds. One interesting thing about hiking in New Zealand is the lack of mammalian life. When you hike in the U.S. or Oz you can expect to see a squirrel or wallaby. In New Zealand there are no equivalent animals, just a host of birds. After a short first day (about 2 1/2 hours) we arrived at our first night's lodging, Clinton Hut.

There is no camping on the Milford. All parties must stay in specific huts positioned along the trail, which are complete with toilets and kitchen facilities. We got settled in and relaxed with a bottle of cabernet and some brie. Yes, what can I say, we were roughing it. Later we listed to the ranger Peter's nature talk and then made an amazing chicken curry dinner with fresh veggies and rice. It was during Peter's talk we learned about the introduced menace: the stoat. It is a very cute weasle-like pest that was introduced to kill the previously introduced rabbits, but they ended up just killing a large portion of the native bird population. There are something like 50,000 traps set up in the New Zealand wilderness areas to try and control the stoat population. Just before bed, we went on a night hike to see the famous New Zealand glow worms. It is easy to imagine the Maori coming up with mystical tales about these glowing colonies...they are quite beautiful.

Day 2: The next morning we were up at 6:45 and in amazing show of "wallaby pace" by Lindsay, we were the first ones on the trail at 7:15. (Based on that, you can guess that wallaby pace is fast. Most mornings Lindsay moves at a much slower pace - "echidna pace.") Again we were by ourselves on the trail surrounded by the beautiful scenery. The sun was shining and the hiking was pretty easy. We passed countlesss waterfalls, walked through old forests and expansive meadows. We saw ducks, geese and trout along the way.

Five hours later we arrived at the second hut, Mintaro Hut. There we dropped our bags, had a bite to eat, and walked up the trail to MacKinnon Pass, the only steep part of the entire Milford hike. The rule of thumb in Fiordland is if you get to Mintaro Hut and the weather is clear, go up for the views even though it requires going back to Mintaro Hut for the evening...the odds are the next day it will be rainy and overcast. Even without our packs which we left at the hut, the hour that it took to get to the top was the hardest part of the trip bar none. The reward, however, was worth the pain. We arrived on top with clear view on both sides of the pass and it was out-of-this-world beautiful. We hung out on top for an hour or two taking it all in. After a bit we returned to Mintaro Hut in the valley below and we BOTH went for a glacial dip in a lake by the hut. There is a video of my lovely wife taking a swim in the icy lake...and I have been told that I am not allowed to show it to anyone. Later we had some spaghetti for dinner and went to bed very early.

Day 3: Up at 6:30, we were back on the trail at 7:15. We made it back up to MacKinnon pass in 45 minutes with our packs and were up there for less than 20 minutes before the clouds rolled in. With the views now all lost in the clouds, we made our way down the other side of the pass through the mist. Along the way were countless signs on the trail prohibiting stopping because of the avalanche and rockslide dangers. While walking along the trail, we hear a loud sound nearby...KEEEEEAAAAAAHHHH! There on a rock just off the trail was not one, but two of the mischevious alpine parrots called Keas. They sang and called and I took heaps of photos. The rest of the way down to the valley below followed a beautiful, narrow canyon with some spectacular waterfalls, one of which was called Lindsay Falls.

Once on the floor of Arthur's Valley, we had lunch, dropped our bags, and made our way to Southerland Falls, one of the highest waterfalls in the Southern Hemisphere. I went under the falls and got soaked, and we had our first encounter with the local flightless birds, the Wekas. We then returned to the packs and made our way to the final hut, Dumpling Hut, for our last night on the trail. Before dinner a few of us (not including Lindsay this time) took a dip in the nearby river...amazingly it was still cold. That night the skies opened up and it began to DUMP. It poured and poured and as I laid in bed I began to regret my decision not to by waterproof pants and waterproof shoes.

Day 4: The next morning was quiet. As I woke up the thundering of the prior night's rain was gone. We got up and found that although the rain was gone, it had left us with thousands of waterfalls streaming down the cliffs on each side of the valley. We walked 11 miles along the swollen river toward Milford Sound taking it all in. Finally, we turned a corner and we were there at Sandfly Point, the end of the Milford track. We sat around the grass with the other hikers and had lunch, thankfully protected from the nasty sandflies by a very strong wind blowing off the water. The ferry boat came and transferred us to the Milford Sound ferry terminal. From there we took a relaxing trip to the end of the sound at the Tasman Sea and back, spying a colony of sea lions along the way. Back at the ferry terminal we boarded a minibu, which shuttled us back to Te Anau. After a very long shower at our holiday park in Te Anau, we had dinner at the Fat Duck, gourging ourselves on some well deserved grub.