A Star in the South

Bet you never saw that blog title coming.

It's been a couple big days for sure. On Saturday I woke up well before my alarm - at 4 am - and looked out my open lanai door onto the pre-dawn Pacific in Fiji. Plot spoiler, I would go to bed that night around 1 am in New Zealand after stunning views of the 3150 m (10,340 ft) Mt Sefton and the 3725 m (12,220 ft) Aoraki (Mount Cook).

The flight from Fiji to Christchurch was uneventful, along with border and customs (mostly - I sacrificed a freeze-dried camp meal, oops). 

Who should come and pick me up at the airport, but my great friends Stan, Pola, and Grace. I haven't seen them since 2016 when I left the UK - it's been such a long time that we've kept up only by Skype. Thank goodness for technology for allowing us to keep in touch all these years! As you know, however, there's nothing like face-to-face interaction for building and rebuilding the bonds of friendship. I took turns giving each of my friends a huge hug.

They had rented a car in Christchurch, so after a quick grocery stop at "Woolies" (aka Woolworths) for staples like Whittaker's chocolate and milkless granola, we hit the road. From my seat on the left side of the cockpit, I watched as farm after farm rolled by our Mazda CX-80. There were tons of cattle, sheep, magpies, and blackbirds in each of the plots of farmland, which were separated by rows of tall, skinny trees - almost like booths at an antiques market. In a small town, we made a pit stop for peppered steak pie, which I topped with tomato sauce (aka ketchup) per local custom. 

But for the most part we were having a great time catching up and the hours and kilometers slipped by seamlessly. We scarcely noticed as the terrain changed from low country to high country. The broad, green fields became rolling pastureland. The pastureland became rough and rocky. The green gave way to amber fields and low brush. Occasionally we caught a glimpse of mountains in the distance.

When you approach the Canadian Rockies from the east, you have no choice but to admire their splendor and majesty. The great plains are totally flat up to the foot of the mountains and stretch forever in all directions. The Rockies are like ramparts of a mighty fortress. But here in New Zealand, the rugged hills blocked the view of the mountains, so you could easily miss the fact that you were approaching some of the most magnificent mountains on earth.

Indeed our first true awe didn't come until we were quite close to the foot of the mountains. We came around a bend and found ourselves at the southern tip of the long Lake Tekapo, a milky turquoise glacial lake. Across the lake, the mountains finally stretched indefinitely in both directions. On the near bank however, clusters of vibrant purple, blue, and white foxglove littered the shore, emitting the most marvelous fragrance. It was as if New Zealand's tourism bureau had deliberately crafted an official welcome scene for the Southern Alps.

Of course, these are the types of places that need no human explanation or welcome.

We continued driving to the southwest to the next glacial lake, Lake Pukaki. After going around the tip, we turned to the north and followed the spectacular western shore. Finally, we were in the National Park: Mount Cook, called Aoraki by the Maori, poked it's magnificent, snowy double-peak out from behind and above lesser mountains.

We were staying at the Hermitage, a hotel complex nestled in the Hooker Valley. After we checked in, we quickly went to dinner in a dining hall with a stunning view of Aoraki collecting the sun's last rays on it's western face before a deep blue evening sky. More on that to come.

As darkness closed in, we hopped on a shuttle with red lights, a stargazing expedition! The bus was filled with the guests of the lodge hoping to take advantage of the Park's International Dark Sky Reserve status - the best possible classification for a dark sky location. We went to a red-lit building with three Go-To motorized telescopes outside. As our eyes adjusted and some astronomers introduced themselves, it was clear we were in for a treat. 

The valley opened out to the south, and before us the Southern Cross glimmered brightly. On the left, in the northeast, there was Orion standing on his head again (see my Patagonia posts). Between the two, the Milky Way emerged clearly, down past Lupis and Eridanus and Carina and other southern hemisphere constellations. The star Canopus tried, as always, to outshine Sirius. A billion other stars stood by in waiting.

The astronomer put on a great presentation. We talked about the solar system and Saturn first, but then sped the other direction to the distant Large and Small Magellanic Cloud galaxies, huge and imposing overhead. We looked at the Tarantula Nebula, so large that even though it's outside the Milky Way, it's clearly visible in the telescope. We also looked at Alpha Centauri, a triple star system that is the closest star system to Earth, and two splendid star clusters: the Jewel Box open cluster and 47 Tucanae, a glittering globular cluster. 

As always, an hour and a half sped by in a blink. And I was just getting started! The moonless night was perfectly clear and even reasonably warm, and yet with midnight come and gone, it was time for bed. From Fiji to Aoraki, it had been a long, exciting day, but we had two days of adventure in store in the park.