BootsnAll Travel Network



Broken Boat

November 6th, 2004

Day 4 – Glenorchy to Queenstown
We awoke early to a bright sunny day. After some quick food and a brief shower, Tory and I met up with a bus, which would take us out to the nearby river for some jet boating. We had decided that jet boating up the river would be a fun experience and give us the opportunity to see some of the landscape. Upon boarding the boat and beginning the trip, I was immediately struck by the speed with which the craft traveled. Read the rest of this entry »

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Towns, Dead and Alive

November 5th, 2004

Day 3 – Mount Cook to Gleorchy
After a night in which sleep was no longer a theory, but a reality, Tory and I got an early start, heading for Queenstown. After packing up our stuff, we went in search of breakfast, but found that for some strange reason the two Cafes in the area were both closed. Why a place that sells coffee wouldn’t open until 10, especially considering that 90 percent of backpackers wake up before 8, is anyone’s guess. At any rate, with empty stomachs we journeyed fourth, but made a quick stop near Mount Cook before we had gotten far. Read the rest of this entry »

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Saturated

November 4th, 2004

Day 2 – Christchurch to Mount Cook

After an all-to-unsatisfying night of sleep we left Christchurch. Breakfast consisted of one whole muffin, after which the rental car agency picked us up and took us out to get our car. The car wasn’t terrible considering its price of twenty-five dollars a day. Aside from a few dents and scratches to give the vehicle character, it was in good condition and seemed to be running fine. Tory took the wheel and we made for Mount Cook, our first stop on the journey. Read the rest of this entry »

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Cry of the Banshee

November 3rd, 2004

Day 1 – Dunedin to Christchurch (11-3-04)
It was with little adieu and minimal celebration that I departed from my small flat in Dunedin, New Zealand after nearly five months of living there. A cold place in which the walls were no more than cardboard barriers between a chill Antarctic wind and my layers of polar fleece, the flat had been my home away from home, yet I was glad to see it go and recede into the memories. Filed away as my first “overseas living experience,” Dunedin would remain both a good memory and bad memory, although perhaps ultimately my recollection of it would be tempered by the next six weeks that I would spend traveling Australia and New Zealand. Read the rest of this entry »

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