To me rum is one of the best bargains in the liquor store. When you get into the sipping category of spirits, a good rum can be had for a couple sawbucks, try that with scotch!
Bundaberg Rum is reputed to be one of the best, so I was excited to see that we’d be able to stop there on our Australia east coast ride. 

They have two tour options, a self-guided walk (AU$14.25/US$10.50) through their museum and another that’s guided (AU$23.75/US$17.50) and includes the actual distillery. They both end up in the tasting room to sample the spirit. 

I had planned on blasting directly to the tastings but the self-guided part was interesting. The distillery started operation in 1888, it resurrected after a liquidation in 1894 and devastating fires in 1907 and 1936. But enough of that, on to be tasting room. With either tour you get a couple of tastings. Since she was the designated driver, Cindy passed her tastings on to me. Plus they will split them, so I ended up with eight half pours of straight rum. (Their tasting notes recommend adding a single ice cube to rum served neat, but I declined that frivolous addition.)

I tasted almost all their unflavored rums from the Original two year old to the Master Distillers Collection Black Barrel which rests for ten years before being sold in their company store for AU$180 (US$133) a bottle. The extra eight years does the job, the Masters was great! While I drained all the better pours, I left some of the rawer tastes as they’re better suited to flavoring cola than drinking neat. With a nice taste in my mouth I settled in the car for a nap while Cindy drive us to the Alpaca farm that was our our next overnight stop. 

New Zealand gifts hikers with Great Walks, single or multi-day hikes that go through its spectacular scenery. There are huts (bunk houses) and camping enroute for those who do a several day track. Reading up on tracks we felt that there’s a tie for the best track: The Routeburn or Milford Sound. We chose the Routeburn because doing the whole track’s 20 miles was do-able in 3 days for us. Milford is a 33.2 mile tramp and would have taken 4 days at least, which is a few too many showerless days for us.   

The gear we each carried included all food, a cook pot, tableware, clothing and a sleeping bag. Because they say in New Zealand “be prepared for all 4 seasons in the same day” choosing what to bring was a challenge. Even though the weather forecast was sunny for all 3 days, it was a slim guarantee, so we stuffed our sacks. Tracks don’t provide trash bins, so whatever we brought in had to come out with us. Art’s bag weighed in at 33 pounds and mine at 24.
We boarded an 8 am, 1-1/2 hour bus out of Queenstown to the Routeburn car park. (For the return 3 days later, we were picked up at The Divide – the separation between Mt. Aspiring National Park and Fiordland National Park. The return ride was 4 hours.)
At 10:11 am we took our first step! And it was ALL UP HILL from there. The forests we walked through were amazingly green and heavily moss covered. (Totally confirms why The Lord of the Rings was filmed in New Zealand.)  

The last 2 hours ramped up in steepness, and we arrived at our overnight spot, the Routeburn Falls hut at 4:23 pm. After picking our bunks and tossing in our bags, we headed out to explore our new surroundings and the impressive triple falls. 

      
We scarfed our first night’s dinner of sweet and sour chicken with fresh red peppers over rice, cleaned up and headed for our bunks, most everyone was asleep by 9:30 💤💤💤.
Now sleeping in a bunkhouse with 22 other unwashed trampers is an experience in itself, a chorus of snores, snorts and errrr “other noises” prompts quick insertion of industrial-grade ear plugs. 
The next morning, we were up, semi-washed with cold water, breakfasted with nutty muesli and UHT milk and out by 9:10 am. Little did we know what the day held in store for us. We started with an even steeper, 2 hour, uphill, rocky climb above the tree line to the Harris Saddle which is theoretically the divide between when you ascend the mountain range and when you descend. Along the way the views were overwhelmingly and emotionally breathtaking! My thought in this pristine, raw and beautiful nature was, If I never hike another mountain it is okay because I am complete. I tear up again as I write this. 
Reaching the saddle was the first high for the day but not nearly how good we felt when we reached the Lake MacKensie hut, our second night’s accommodation 9 hours after we started. Fellow hikers know how much harder downhills are due to the “help” of gravity! So even though we were descending, well above the tree line, we continued to negotiate rocks, bigger rocks and small boulders while stopping to take in the beauty of what was all around us.

   
We arrived at 6 pm (9hrs of solid hiking), and we both agreed it was the most strenuous hike we had ever accomplished! We had our choice of top bunks so we grabbed two and headed outside to relax shoe-less on the front lawn overlooking the lake. Thank goodness no bugs!  
Dinner was a spicy marsala paneer over rice. Another hungry hiker helped us finish our meal or we would have had to carry out even more garbage. 
This bunkhouse was a bit noisier due to a younger crowd but all were miraculously silent by 9:30/10. Thank goodness for those good ear plugs 🙂
Day 3 started with mixed feelings. You can’t help thinking about warm water from a sink, a shower, your pillow, cleaner clothes, lights, walking barefoot on carpeted floors, privacy and at the same time you’re not wanting to re-enter life as you know it. Our final leg started at 8am, back in the forest with trees filled with the sound of birds again, and of course more rocky paths, but mostly downhill. The glorious 6 -1/2 hours went by way too quickly! Our 4 hour bus ride back to Queenstown found us in and out of sleep.
After showers in our hotel, and with the laundry going, we unanimously voted on a dinner delivery rather than a .7 mile walk to the Queenstown restaurants. We had a celebratory bottle of a New Zealand red wine with an amazingly delicious Italian meal. Dessert was a couple of Motrin. 
Our take away from this life-changing, tramping experience is the reminder that: Nature is awe-inspiring, beautiful, surprising, gorgeous, stunning, fabulous, and breath-taking. 

   
   

Bradona. A roadside stop near Cardronia on the Cardrona Valley Road which links the towns of Queenstown and Wanaka, New Zealand. It’s at the entrance to the Cardrona Distillery. Obviously a lot of free spirits have passed by. Cindy declined to contribute as she only had two favorite foundations packed for our trip. Cash donations for breast cancer are also accepted.   

Here’s a 30 second walk by along the Bradona bra fence. 

  
The McDonalds in Lake Taupo takes the kid’s playground to a new high   

The Furgburger in Queenstown, New Zealand is legendary. People line up outside their doorway on Shotover St. to order and devour the huge burger dressed with sauce, onions, lettuce and tomato. 

  
    
 

…was what the i-Site guy said to the white water rafting outfitter on the phone. 

 

 
We were driving through Murchison, New Zealand on the south island and were wondering what there was to do there so we pulled into the i-Site center to ask the staff what cool things are around. 
Turns out we were in an area where several rivers come together and feed into the Buller River. All that water flow makes it a fast moving river. Add in some boulders scattered in the flow and you’ve got the perfect river for rafting. 

He suggested either a jet boat on the river or a white water rafting trip down he river. Apparently Cindy’d never been on a rafting trip before and she had some concerns, like flipping and getting dunked. We chatted with the i-Site guy about what the rafting trip was like. His opinion was if we wanted to really experience the river, the raft gives you two active hours which beats the jet boat where you just sit and zip for one hour. 

We decided to do rafting. Mr. i-Site booked it with Ultimate Descents New Zealand.

The rafting office was just across the street, we went over, met the third victim Jane, got outfitted with wetsuits, rash guards and crash helmets and set off in a rickety van to the launch.

Matt was our guide and captain, Dan followed downstream and shot photos (included free with our 1/2 day trip!) as we risked life and limb.   

Matt gave us several commands to remember as we floated, “down” meant crouch down on the floor as we hurtled through rapids, “paddle” of course meant paddle for your life against the torrent of water and “paddles up” meant crouch with the paddle handle up so as to not knock out your mate’s teeth or toss them overboard. 
We took off down river and straight-away came to nicely sized rapids complete with boulders staring us in the face. Matt barked commands, we paddled, crouched and whooped as the water bounced us through.

A few more easier rapids, then came a bit of a calm area and we were able to hop out of the raft and float in the calm cool water. 
One rapid which was basically a 4 to 5 foot waterfall was deemed too large for us to pass through. so we hopped out and were given a choice to walk downstream a bit, stand on a rock about 8 feet above the river and jump in, or walk downstream to the waters edge and rejoin the safe raft. Super-Keen jumped, Keen hopped in the raft.   

 
We ran several more rapids, calmly floated and all said “Awww, already?” when Matt announced that we’d reached the out point and the end of this adventure. 

Apologies to any who have ties to Nebraska, but you know that feeling you get on a road trip when the road just goes on and on with nothing but wind-whipped plastic shopping bags stuck in a fence to break the monotony? Well, you won’t experience that in New Zealand.

Line up all of the national parks in the U.S.A. and drive through them one after the other and that’s what New Zealand is like. For instance, a typical 4 hour day’s drive is highlighted by a stop at a beach or a lake, another stop at a historic hotel for a bite, or a spectacular waterfall view at a pull off on the highway.  

  

  

  

 
And when you think it can’t get better, you’ll find sights like this at or near your campervan’s holiday park.

  Yes, you’re not traveling the huge distances like you do driving in the U.S.A. when you drive in New Zealand. A typical drive is 150-200 miles, and many of the miles are on curvy roads at slower than the posted 100 km per hour (60 mph). So the quest to drive 800 miles in a day to “get somewhere” just isn’t there, it’s more of a “the joy is in the journey” thing topped off by the great final destination. 

As we traveled the South Island of New Zealand we heard about a legendary delicacy called whitebait. It was on the menu when we stopped for dinner at the lovely Royal Theatre Hotel in Kumara, but we were there for the excellent fish and chips, so we didn’t order whitebait. 
Our Lonely Planet guidebook said that the Curleytree Whitebait Company 10 km north of Haas at the Waita River bridge was the place to try whitebait. Following the signs on Hwy 6 we turned down a gravel road along the river, and just past several “bach”es (beach cottages) we saw the Curleytree HQ. 

 
The sign on the door said “toot twice and we’ll be with you in a mo”. Sure enough, two toots later Tony came strolling up and took residence in the shack kitchen jutting out beyond his back door. 

 
Tony told us how during the several month season there are hundreds of people along the river netting the matchstick length, transparent fish. Each fisherman is only allowed one net, but there’s no limit on the amount that can be caught. 

Whitebait are the young of five species of New Zealand native scaleless fish and they can command a hefty tariff, with Tony saying that a 5 gal. bucket can net the netsman several thousand dollars. 

 
Tony dipped into the bucket which held the whitebait-egg mixture and dropped a spoonful on the hot griddle. A fry on one side, a flip to fry the other side, then he slipped the turner underneath and slid the browned patty on a slice of lightly grilled white bread.   

 We had two, one was served traditional, dressed with sea salt, pepper and lemon, the other West Coast style, with a little mint sauce made of mint leaves and oil and flavored salt. Both were delicious, with a mild white fish flavor. I preferred the mint sauce version by a hair. A whitebait purist would probably disagree, stating that less dress is best since you’re paying top dollar for a handful of minnows.

In America we have hiking trails, in New Zealand “tracks” are their equivalent. The Abel Tasman Track is the most used track in the country. We wanted to hike a section of the 54 k (33 mi.) track, so we got tickets for a water taxi to take us to Anchorage Bay the first stop at the track’s southern terminus. Passengers are loaded into the boats right at the water taxi headquarters in Marahu, then a tractor pulls the people-loaded boat down the road, onto the beach and right into the water.   

The captain took us past the famous Split Apple Rock and a seal colony on Adele Island. Then we waded off the boat and onto Anchorage Bay on the Abel Tasman Trail. 

 

Along this part of track there are numerous places where you can access the a beach. 

 We stopped at two, Atkerson Bay and Apple Tree Bay, swam and chilled before getting back on the track, after 4 hours we’d hiked 12.4 km (7.7 miles) back to the water taxi place in Marahau where we started. The trail is fool-proof, there’s no way to get lost, it’s hilly but a flat surface overall and easily hiked.   

 

Horopito, New Zealand is a pretty unremarkable farming town except for gear-heads. For those of us with a bit of 10-30 weight oil in our veins, Horopito lays claim to one of the coolest auto junk yards on the planet. Fashion these days is to use the term auto recycling to describe this type of business, but Smash Palace is truly a junk yard.  

 The vintage rusted heaps as far as the eye can see outside are almost topped by the warren of passageways on the stuffy second floor of the headquarters building crammed with parts inside. Hoods, steering wheels, hubcaps endlessly shelved and hanging. 

Nothing is marked, We met Bernie who lives on site and on sleepless nights roams this warren in his boxers, a camping headlight affixed to his head, searching for the errant old Hudson footplate, or whatever.  

Bernie proudly reported that at age 60 he’s found his dream job, working 3 days a week at Smash Palace.

Cindy gamely hung with me as I shot picture after picture, saying “Oh my gosh, ya gotta see this…” 

As we left Bernie, I asked him what the Hudson footplate might be sold for, his reply “Oh no, we won’t sell that, it’s destined for our planned museum and conference center”.

I have a feeling that once a car or part is interred at Smash Palace, there’s no getting out.   

#1. We WERE able to wake up at 7am, considering that between 11pm – 2am, even though we were tempted to party with the “kids,” we reached for our ear plugs instead.

#2. We FINALLY found a strong enough wifi connection to be able to FaceTime! A highlight of Cindy’s day – talking to Caitlin! However, the wifi was made possible as Art learned a pretty important lesson that you don’t put petrol in a diesel tank! Thank you car repair shop for strong wifi! All told it took 2 1/2 hours and of course, a price tag. 

  
We quickly shook it off, how could we not – we’re in NZ! Back in the van and on our way to Tongariro National Park where we enjoyed a great hike!

   

On the way back to the Campervan, imagine our surprise when we found a Pickleball court outside of Tongariro National Park!

 
 

Stay tuned- the best is yet to come for  this day! (It has to do with old, junky cars.)

We’d read in our guidebook that New Zealand has freedom camping, places where self-contained certified camper vans can pull up and stay overnight at no cost. Self-continued means the van has fresh and grey water storage and a toilet. The Toyota Hiace we’re renting from Britz qualifies.   

Taupo was the first time we sought out a freedom site, we pulled into the designated area along Ferry Drive and initially thought it was full. A desire to gawk at a strange rig (a white flat-bed Iveco truck with a green fifth-wheel trailer attached) led me to walk the area, and I saw that slot 1 was open. We quickly circled back and became the happy owners of a lake view slot for the night. 

Dinner was prepped, we watched a sunset as we ate, then retired to the van, set up the bed and settled in our mobile lakeshore cottage.   

The next morning, no alarm clock is needed as the birds and local trash trucks making the rounds of the park announce the day break. (Of which, Cindy heard nothing!) Around 8 am our neighbor campers started leaving to beat the 10 am move out time. Evening move in officially starts again at 5 pm, but there were  a few vans in the lot all day. 

As compared to our other options in Taupo, the freedom camp is by far the better choice. It’s smack in the heart of downtown, right on the lake by the harbor, museum and rose garden, and there’s a Superloo with showers in the park across the street!  

In addition to the 14 or so slots marked at the freedom area, the beach parking lot slightly west on Ferry Rd. at Ferry and Redoubt St. has a sign saying that self contained campers are allowed there between 5 pm and 9 am.