With financial reality biting hard, Rachel struck out on her own by paying over $100 dollars to attack the face of Franz Josef Glacier with crampons and ice climbing gear. I settled on a tramp around the mountainside to the best vantage point i could find without paying for the privilege. Armed with my sophisticated ration pack (a bag of cookies, a litre of fruit juice and a can of insect repellent) and my ill fitting Adidas Sambas i set out on my solitary ascent to the pinnacle of the mountain.
After the picture postcard view over Paul's Pool i found myself picking through the pretty walkway to the beginning of the track. At that stage there seemed to be nothing to fear - carpets of green flecked with russet coloured pines discarded by the overhanging trees covered the forest floor. Low slung branches festooned with hanging mosses swayed just above my eyeline. Gradually the lush layer of vegetation gave way to increasingly large rocks and thick tree roots which coiled over the boulders like fat snakes searching for moist ground to sink their teeth into.
My journey to the top of the mountain followed the path of a river i could hear, but never see - the steep banks prevented me peering over to the water below. Sweat poured from every pore as the heat of the day took its toll on me. Thankfully i was protected from the sun by the forest canopy and cooled by splashing cold water from the streams over my face and neck.
As the terrain grew trickier i gingerly followed the curve of steep cliffs down and then up again. Rickety suspension bridges suitable only for one walker at a time wobbled and bounced under my weight. A startled deer crashed across the path just feet in front of me. I think i was more scared than him, but he didn't stick around to find out.
The air grew noticeably cooler the higher i got. My chest burned with every lungful of thin air as i climbed closer to the cloud cover. An icy blast to the face stung me as i turned the final corner and came face to face with layers of crusty snow like peaks of blue-white meringue. I could make out tiny figures on the face of the ice and assumed that Rachel must be one of the ant-like dots i could see. And with that, i could stand the cold no more...
It was a markedly more difficult descent as a misty drizzle descended. Everything underfoot become more slippery and decidedly more treacherous. I mistakenly believed that the wet air was due to my altitude, but soon realised that i was in the middle of a strong downpour.
Previously bone-dry creeks and crevasses flowed with icy water as rain deposited at the top of the mountain searched for the fastest way to the bottom. The roar of the river grew louder surprisingly quickly and by the time i reached the bottom had become a raging torrent. As soon as the rain stopped, however, steam began to rise from it as the sky sucked up what it had deposited minutes earlier.
So now our time in this magical country has come to an end. I'd love to have attacked New Zealand with all i had, bungeed, skydived, rafted and abseiled. Unfortunately lack of funds prevented that. But the real star of this country is the country itself. From firs to ferns, mountains to valleys, film sets to thermal springs, New Zealand has absolutely entranced us both. And it cost us virtually nothing to enjoy that.
A country of only four million people attracts half that many tourists each year and it's so easy to see why: roads are maintained impeccably, every town has an information centre, the ecology and terrain is protected to the hilt and the people are friendly, knowledgeable and justifiably proud of these two little islands in the southern hemisphere. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that i'll return.
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