30 Days in Spain - Part 1 - Overview

In September & October 2019 we spent 30 days in Spain.  The trip turned out to be one of the best we’ve taken. Unfortunately, I never got around to finishing up a trip report until now.

Now, in these dire pandemic times both in Spain, at home in Seattle, and around the world it’s time to post a trip report to (1) help take our minds off of the coronavirus, (2) recall better times, (3) to encourage others to experience Spain when better times eventually return, and (4) most importantly, to thank all of the hosts and people we met in Spain – we hope that you survive the pandemic and can eventually get your lives and businesses back in order.  It is heartbreaking.  It’s going to be hard … very hard.  Hopefully blogs like this, although they are only a tiny drop of water in the ocean, may help a tiny bit as we all struggle to look to the future and to reach a new normal together.

Update 4/25/2020:
A violinist performs for a hospital hit by the pandemic here - we're all one world.

SUMMARY

For one month a year, from early September to early October, my wife and I are the same age.  Since during that month we were both 75, we planned a special trip to Spain.  It seemed an appropriate destination in these days when intolerance, bigotry, and autocracy are trying to raise their ugly heads both in parts of societies and many of our governments.  Spain’s history seems to encapsulate the present time, having alternated between Roman, Visigoth, Islamic, and Christian rule.  It experienced a rich multi-cultural harmony at many times, but at others ruthless intolerance.  From that history Spain has evolved a unique and fascinating culture.

As usual, we began planning the trip using standard guidebooks.  But we quickly graduated to internet searches including blogs by MaiTaiTom’s photo blogs (linked here), Maribel  - her guidebooks for Spain were unusually helpful (her website links to her guides), and numerous travel forum postings.

First, here’s a summary of our trip. In a series of successive posts, after I’ve sorted our thousands (thousands plural!) of photos, I’ll comment and post photos of each leg on my blog at Lee’s Random Ramblings.  As they gradually get posted, I’ll post links on here.

PS: Throughout this blog you can click on any photo to enlarge it.




We flew Lufthansa’s premium economy from Seattle to Frankfurt where we transferred to Barcelona.  The extra leg room and seat width, (and the small amount of additional recline) was worth the extra expense.  It was a comfortable flight and we were able to sleep a bit.  Unfortunately, I screwed up.  I accidentally booked an onward flight to Barcelona that resulted in 5 boring hours of layover at FRA;  there were a number of earlier flights we could have taken.

Leaving Seattle

2. Barcelona: 4 days, 5 nights: Highlights: biking, attending a castell festival, seeing some of Gaudí’s and Lluís Domènech i Montaner’s architecture, experiencing Cerdà’s storied city planning, and enjoying the streets and plazas of our favorite areas: Eixample, Gracia, and El Poblenou.

See Part 2a - Introduction to Barcelona  (Eixample, Our Lodging, Bike Tour, La Rambla, Bone of Contention)
Part 2b - Exploring  (Old City, Picasso, Palau de la Música, Cathedral, Parc Güell, Castell Festival, Poblenou, Beach)
Part 2c - Dessert  (La Pedrera, Hospital de Santa Creu i de Sant Pau, La Sagrada Familia)

Travel day: flight on Vueling to Granada

3. Granada: 3 days, 4 nights: Highlights: Alhambra and exploring the streets, history, walls, and alleys of the Albaicin
See Part 3a: Granada: Albaycín & Old Town
See Part 3b: Granada: The Alhambra

Travel day:  Renfe bus & train to Ronda

4. Ronda: 2 days 3 nights: Highlights: Biking on the Via Verde de la Sierra, seeing how cork is grown, and exploring three varied ways down into the gorge.
See  Part 4a: Ronda
See  Part 4b: the White Towns and Biking the Via Verde de la Sierra

Travel day:  Train to Cordoba

5. Cordoba:  2 days, 3 nights: Highlights: Seeing the Mesquita, the history, discovering that Rome’s Seneca was from Cordoba, and enjoying the pedestrianized major shopping streets near Plaza de las Tendillas.
I’ll post a link to this part of our blog when it’s done.

Travel day:  Alvia high speed train to Seville while incongruously watching on the overhead screens a portion of the movie “Green Book” without sound, subtitled in Spanish.

6. Seville:  3 days, 4 nights: Highlights: biking and exploring the Alcazar, Cathedral and La Giralda, and constantly (delightfully) getting lost in the maze of streets.
I’ll post a link to this part of our blog when it’s done.

Travel day: bus to Merida. Other passengers gradually got off at intermediate stops until finally we were the only passengers left.  We began wondering if we really wanted to go to Merida.

7. Mérida:  2 days, 3 nights:  Merida was a surprise and one of our favorite places:  Highlights:  Parks, Roman ruins, a fantastic museum of Roman antiquities and history, lack of tourists, and very pleasant people.
I’ll post a link to this part of our blog when it’s done.

Travel day:  Train to Madrid

8. Madrid:  3 days, 4 nights:  Highlights:  Art, Salamanca District, Madrid’s urban experience, and stumbling across a religious procession bearing a gigantic religious paso - (a "float” - I don’t know what to call it) from the cathedral.
I’ll post a link to this part of our blog when it’s done.

On the way home we had a choice of flights: get up early enough to catch a 6AM fight in time to connect to our FRA-SEA nonstop, or leave late in the day and spend a night in Frankfurt.  For us, the choice was a no-brainer: spend the night in Frankfurt. The daylight flight back gave us views of Iceland, the arctic, and the Canadian Mountains covered in the fresh snow of early fall.

Most of the travel days between Spanish cities involved only 2 or 3 hours travelling, which usually left hours of bonus time for experiencing the cities.

Our biggest regret: time. In every place we were we needed at least one more day or more.

SPAIN IN GENERAL

Since returning from Spain I’ve stumbled across the book “The Ornament of the World” by Maria Rosa Menocal and the PBS TV program based on it.  I wish I had read it before going to Spain;  it would have enriched the experience.

Weather: The timing of this trip was set from early September to early October.  But we were worried that at that time of year much of the interior of Spain would still be too for us.  Coming from Seattle, to us temperatures in the 70’s F seem nice, the 80’s are uncomfortable, the 90’s are hot enough to wilt us, and anything hotter totally melts our remains.

We planned the sequence of our itinerary using the historical averages on the graphs at weatherspark.com to attempt to avoid high temperatures of August and early September and the chance of more rain in October or later.  For the most part we were successful. We started off in early/mid September in the coolest location, seaside Barcelona, and worked our way inland to normally hotter places after early autumn began to moderate their temperatures a bit.  It worked.  It helped acclimatize us and we had beautiful weather, with only 5 drops of rain hitting us in Barcelona during one threatening day, and one day of moderate but easily ignored rain in Ronda.  Every other day was beautifully sunny.  Only Granada, Cordoba, and Seville were uncomfortably hot in the upper 80’s and low 90’s, but the heat was survivable by taking it easy in the shade during the hot parts of the day.

Eating:  Prior to our trip we fretted that we’d have a difficult time adjusting to Spain’s reputed habit of having dinner so late.  Fortunately, we’re flexible.  I tend to be a night owl, my wife an early bird, so we’re used to adjusting.  We still tended to eat earlier than most Spaniards, but never had problems finding a place to eat when we wanted – except in Merida.  There, it seemed that NO restaurant was open for dinner prior to about 8:00.  We even noticed that an American fast food Burger King seemed to be closed when we walked by at about 7:30.

Of course, like everyone we enjoy good food.  But we don’t plan our days around it, and generally treat it as body fuel.  On most trips we just stop at anything that happens to be nearby when we get hungry.  On this trip we tried a new technique for us:  we made google maps of each city in advance pinning restaurants recommended by various sources.  Ideally, we could be anywhere and find a recommended restaurant nearby by referring to our phones.  Unfortunately, when it was time to eat we didn’t tend to be near any of the places.  We did hit a few;  some of those were great, some bad.  We had more luck asking people where we were staying.

We did have a bit of trouble adjusting to Spanish food.  Although not vegetarians, we’re used to eating less meat, more vegetables, and light things (except for potatoes) rather than heavy things … “Northwest Cuisine”, whatever that is.  Even most seafood, especially seafood paella, was too heavy for our taste, though we did find some various types of white fish that we very much enjoyed.

Catalonia independence:   The trip was bookended by Catalonian independence.  Unbeknownst to us until we got there, we flew into Barcelona the day after the massive march for Catalan independence on Catalonia day: see this news report. But when we were there, you couldn't tell that it had happened, other than that Catalonia's flags hung from many buildings and many orange ribbons had been spray-painted on streets.

W.B. Yeat’s poem “The Second Coming” seems descriptive of much of today’s world with all the separatist and nationalist things happening throughout the world:

        Turning and turning in the widening gyre
        The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
        Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
        Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
        The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
        The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
        The best lack all conviction, while the worst
        Are full of passionate intensity.

But we were fortunate.  The center did hold.  All was calm for the month that we were in Spain. (Though a few days after we left from Madrid the Supreme Court of Spain convicted some of the separatists, igniting rioting in Barcelona.)

Social life:  We are long past the age where night life is important to us.  We have heard reports from some that the nightly street life noise was bothersome.  Partly to avoid the noise, but mostly because we prefer areas outside of the main tourist and party areas, the noise never bothered us.

Coming from Seattle, which some claim is notorious for the “Seattle Freeze” where people are sometimes said to be more private and less publicly social (I don't know if that's accurate, but I guess some might consider ourselves to be friendly but reserved), we found the social life in Spain's streets and plazas a refreshing and welcome change.

We relished in the plazas, surrounded by restaurants, that were filled with families with kids playing and parents mingling until late into the evening.

From new reports it seems that many in Spain and elsewhere have adapted to the current pandemic necessity.  Instead of congregating and socializing in plazas, people seem to be finding new ways of connecting with others, including playing and listening to music with their neighbors on balconies or out of windows.  See and listen (turn your speakers on): a short article with a link to an audio-video clip here, a  youtube link here,  and  a photo article from around the world here.

Adversity can bring out the best in most people (and the worst in others).

Continued in Part 2a - Introduction to Barcelona

Barcelona - Part 2a - Introduction to Barcelona

Continued from Part 1 - Overview

Introduction to Barcelona

The old city (including the Gothic Quarter and El Raval) is the roughly pentagonal area northwest of the port.  It's a very dense old area of narrow streets and alleys originally defined and enclosed by medieval walls.

Northwest of that is Eixample (it's the area that looks like a waffle iron when viewed from above). It was conceived by Ildefons Cerdà in the mid 1800's, arguably the first instance of modern urban planning - "urbanización".  It's one of the things that most attracted me to visit Barcelona. It remains my favorite area of Barcelona - and where obviously we would stay.

To grasp the history of Barcelona's urban form (beginning with the Romans) see this article.

Like all modern cities there has been a love-hate relationship with cars.  Like cities around the world, Barcelona is trying ways to alter the old auto-orientation of the 20th century to improve our cities, our safety, our human relationships, and the world. Vox ran an excellent 5 article series here.  It works better when residences are within a 15 minute or 20 minute walk of most of the shops and services they need daily, like in Spain.

Hint: Throughout the blog, click on photos to enlarge them, and don't miss the links to additional info.

Above: Photo of a 1901 Map of Barcelona shot at an exhibit at Recinta Modernista de Sant Pau

Above: Aerial view of Barcelona today (from Google Earth with annotations added)

Legend for maps above & below
          #1:  Where we stayed (Casa Mathilda)
          #2:  Gaudi's famed La Sagrada Familia
          #3:  Recinta Modernista de Sant Pau (the early 1900's hospital by Domènech i Montaner)
          #4:  Parc del Centre del Poblenou (Where we saw a local castell  -  what's a castell? see here)
          #5:  Gaudi's Casa Mila (La Pedrera - The Quarry)
          #6:  Entrance to Diagonal Metro Station (serving 3 major metro lines)

Below: Detail of Eixample near where we stayed  (from Google Earth with annotations added)

Where we stayed

Below is a typical street scene in Eixample, one block from where we stayed. Typical of much of Eixample: the octagonal intersections (often used for parking), treed streets, dense 6 or 7 story buildings, bike lanes often provided, and the ubiquitous  motorbikes.

On the photo's right is a neighborhood restaurant/bar that we frequented. We tend to eat a bit earlier than many Spaniards, so I'm not sure how typical this was, but we found this throughout Spain: many times when we entered the tables were bare like in a coffee shop or bar, but as soon as it was apparent that we were ordering dinner, table cloths and dinner settings were whisked onto our table.

We're not in the habit of drinking coffee and sitting to have a conversation after dinner. A number of times we seemed to get a subtle reaction from the waiter when he asked it we'd like coffee and we'd decline, almost a feeling somewhere between not understanding why and disappointment.

(Perhaps partly because of that?) we found in several neighborhood restaurants in Barcelona (but not elsewhere in Spain) an after-dinner complimentary aperitif was sometimes provided.  Each time the waiter would proudly present it, show us the bottle, and describe it (usually in Catalan or Spanish) while pouring us a drink. Without exception the aperitifs were some of the best we have ever had - I wish I could understand Catalan or Spanish to have learned more about the aperitifs.

A half block from where we stayed, in the opposite direction from the above, was the Avinguda Diagonal, one of the wide boulevards that dissect and connect the city, with roadways for through traffic separated from secondary roadways for local deliveries by treed park-like medians with wide sidewalks including space for biking or rolling.

Incidentally, the building in the background is lesser-known but a masterpiece by Josep Puig i Cadafalch: Casa de les Punxes,  (You'll notice that throughout this blog I often focus on things that most of the guidebooks do not address.)

Two blocks from where we stayed was the intersection of two of Barcelona's major boulevards: Avinguda Diagonal and Passeig de Gràcia, and also the location of the Diagonal Metro Station, which we frequently used.  See the amazing amount of different kinds of traffic here (pedestrians, bikes, scooters, motor bikes, & buses) on my youtube video here.

The Passieg de Gràcia was one of the main ways to walk from our accommodations to the heart of Barcelona at Plaça de Catalunya (~1.6 km, 20 minute walk), or to the harbor via La Rambla  (~3 km, 35 minutes)

We had a very delightful stay at Casa Mathilda. It was one floor above street level a multi-floor building. The owner and staff were delightful - they treated their guests like friends.

Usually we don't use cabs much, and on this trip we walked or used transit everywhere. But we did splurge on cabs between the airports or train stations and our accommodations; we had enough, when a bit younger, of schlepping luggage around by foot or on transit. The owner arranged cabs for us, and they were obviously familiar. When we arrive he knew the entrance door's passcode, squeezed us and our luggage into a small gated open elevator like in a classical French movie, and bounded up the stairs beside it, getting to our floor before we did. He, the owner, and we had an chat like old friends. When we left to catch our early flight a different cab driver was waiting in the breakfast room drinking coffee

Our room was delightful, opening onto a terrace in the back, overlooking the typical Eixample area at the center of the block, enclosed by the surrounding buildings.

Biking in Barcelona

The first morning, bleary-eyed from our flight, we rushed to the Metro and bought a T-10 ticket for 10 rides, and hurried to our scheduled 3-hour bike tour with Andre at Bamboo Bike Tours.

I enjoy getting introduced to a city on a bike - one sees and senses so much. (Plus, Ginny and I try to bike a far amount at home, and I work with some groups promoting "active transportation" in Seattle.)  And the people who lead and go on bike tours are invariably interesting.

I had researched various bike tours on the web, and quickly honed in on Bamboo Bike Tours. I especially liked that their tours were not large. Although it was not strictly a private tour, it was only Andre, Ginny, and me

We had corresponded before and arranged to vary their typical tour: we weren't interested in seeing the normal sights (we'd see most of them in the succeeding days), but I was very interested in seeing Barcelona's bike facilities, especially their Superblocks, which turn car-oriented streets into people-oriented places where cars still allowed, but restricted.

While we're getting introduced to Barcelona, I should introduce you to Ginny and me, and to our great guide Andre.

La Rambla 

After our bike tour we had lunch then explored La Rambla and Passeig de Gràcia while we walked back to our place.  I guess it's because it's so famous that crowds of people congregate on Barcelona's La Rambla. We personally preferred the Rambla del Poblenou, which we discovered several days later - it's more subdued and neighborly - I'll have photos of it later in the blog.

Part way up La Rambla we detoured to the Plaza Real to see Gaudi's first commission - by the city for the design AND installation of streetlights - see the story here.

The afternoon was getting along, so we began hurrying to Casa Batlló to get there in time for our scheduled entrance. Casa Vicens, Gaudí's very colorful first building, isn't far off La Rambla;  I regret that we didn't have time to see it.  In a city as interesting as Barcelona, unfortunately, one has to make choices.

The Bone of Contention

We walked up La Rambla and over to Passeig de Gràcia thence along it to the Block of Discord where 3 former mansions were designed by 3 of Barcelona's leading Modernista architects. All 3 seem to be trying to outdo each other with somewhat discordant styles.

Look at the crowd!!!

When we were there the crowd below (on the Block of Discord) was typical of major sites, especially in Barcelona but also throughout much of Spain. Ginny and I usually like the ability to be spontaneous and not to schedule ourselves tightly on trips. But we had been forewarned by most of the guidebooks to obtain timed entrance tickets months ahead.for many things. We were thankful that we did. We never scheduled more than 2 things a day, and left as much between them as we could. That allowed for enough flexibility, while avoiding standing in interminable lines or worse, learning that no more ticket slots were available.  Maybe in the new normal after things open back up, at least at first, the lines wan't be a long (that cuts both ways: slightly more enjoyable experience but less $ coming in to the tourist industry and Barcelona - it will really be needed).




Casa Lleó i Morera by Domènech i Montaner is the first we came to. Unfortunately, it is not open to the public, however it has an excellent website.  On the website is a video I particularly like that shows both the history of Barcelona and the house itself, with lots of attention to the house's exquisite details.  Often the craftsmen who are the creators of the details, and upon whose collaboration the Modernista architects depend, are overlooked. This website gives the craftsman their due credit here.

Casa Amatller by Puig i Cadafalch is next on the block, immediately adjacent to Casa Batlló.
It's open on guided tours only. There is so much to see in Barcelona and so little time that it's one of many things we had to forego until our next visit. But it, too, has an excellent website that shows its history and its details well.

Casa Batlló by Antoni Gaudí is next up the street. It was built for the textile manufacturer, Josep Batlló, who "bought a modest building with the intention of turning it into something spectacular. Not only was this building located at the heart of Passeig de Gràcia, but it was also on the same block as Casa Amatller and Casa Lleó i Morera.

"Many say that Gaudí was delighted to accept the commission for the pleasure of sharing space with the best architects at the time: Domènech i Montaner (creator of Casa Lleò i Morera) and Puig i Cadafalch (creator of Casa Amatller).

"The result? Three unique modernist buildings created by the most important architects of Modernism and competing to be the 'most beautiful' construction. That is why, in reference to Greek mythology, they are popularly known as 'the bone of contention'". - from an excellent summary of the architecture variously known as Art Noveau or Jugendstil or Modernism or Modernisme: "Barcelona and Modernism" on the Casa Batlló website.

A photo of Gaudí from the Casa Vicens website.

Gaudi's collaboration with craftsmen is apparent throughout, including wood, glass, tile, metal, and other media. It was the era prior to air conditioning; he and his team included in all of the windows ingenious methods of openings for ventilation that were both beautiful and functional..

The building is centered by a central skylight-topped light well that serves dual purposes: it allows light to penetrate the building the building while importantly serving as a ventilation shaft.
The tile work respects the need for light: it's darker at the top where the slight is intense and becomes lighter towards the lower floors where the lightness in needed.

The importance of the light well is apparent from a Google Earth aerial view.  The basic form of the building is a long rectangular shoe box tightly hemmed in by its neighboring buildings, New York brownstone style. Without the light well the center would be dark and poorly ventilated.

image from Google Earth

At Casa Milà  there is an exhibit explaining Gaudi's work (I'll get to that in a successive part of the blog). It has a floor plan of Casa Batlló (above), a drawing section through Casa Batlló , and a model of a section through the light well of Casa Batlló (second below).

The back isn't as elaborate as the front, but is worth seeing, as is a glimpse of a water feature in its garden:

The roof, especially its chimneys, is very fanciful,  (but not as elaborate as at Casa Milà (Le Pedrera) which will be in a latter part of this blog).

.

We'd had a long tiring day, so we trundled home for dinner and sleep (is that where the green turtle-like things above were also headed?).

And another introduction to Spain

On a following night, one of the staff at our accommodations encouraged us to have dinner at one of her favorite small restaurants beside Plaça del Sol, in Gràcia about 1 km north of our lodging. So we walked to it along Gràcia's narrow streets (a cross between those in the old part of the city and Eixample).

That introduced us to one of our favorite things about Spain: the neighborhood plazas where residents gather to eat and socialize.  The adjacent buildings were filled with restaurants and tapa bars, each of which had some umbrella tables at the edge of the plaza. They were filled.  Many 20 somethings and young families sat cross legged on the pavement picnic-style. There was a small playground in one corner and kids mingles with each other playing there, or running through the plaza.  We were instantly in love with it. The current lockdowns must be hard for the Spanish to adjust to. We, like everyone, look forward to the return to better times.

To return to Part 1 - Overview of the trip, click here.
Continued in Barcelona - Part 2b - Exploring - click here

30 Days Down Under - Part 7 - Queenstown

Flying to Queenstown

Image from AJ Hackett Bungy Queenstown website

In Sydney's airport we breezed through Australia's exit controls, a mirror image of their entrance controls: an automated passport reader that tracked who we were and verified that their visa was in order. Then we stepped to an automated camera that verified that our faces matched our passport, and we were through.

Simple, fast, efficient ... regulating both entrance and exit.

We were soon flying our way to New Zealand for 3 1/2 days in Queenstown.   (Our flight wasn't tethered like in the adjacent Hackett bungy ad.)

Mid October is early spring in Queenstown. We knew we were pushing the weather, relying on luck; it can be dicey that time of year.  The highest probability for the entire year for rain in Queenstown is on October 14.  We would arrive October 15!

According to Weather Spark (my favorite weather site when seeking to easily see average weather patterns - they have lots of easy-to-read graphs for each of the major elements of weather, showing not just the month like most sites, but the days within each month.  https://weatherspark.com/): For the days we'd be there in mid October the average high temperature is about 55 F, 51% of the days are mostly cloudy or worse, 46% of the days have rain, and it's usually windy.

Queenstown is known as an active outdoor place; most of our plans revolved around that. And we were planning, amongst other things, to do a boat trip in Milford Sound where it rains 61% of the time in October (see here )

As the plane approached the mountains surrounding Queenstown we looked out at the threatening weather.  At Queenstown you get up-close-and-friendly with the mountains real fast; the landing approach for the plane was down a narrow valley, mountaintops above us with their flanks pressing close on each side.

Arriving

After we unpacked, when we walked into town and along Lake Wakatipu's beach, we were pleasantly surprised. Being from Seattle the weather seemed quite passable.

There were still lots of clouds but some sunny breaks too. It was windy with quite a chop on the lake - even some whitecaps, but we (and some of the people on the lake's beach) were warm in our jackets - some seemed not to need them. And best of all, no rain seemed to threaten.

During our walk the Lady of the Lake greeted us.  She was a beaut!

A working steam-powered steamship, the TTS (twin screw steamer) Earnslaw had been contracted in 1910 to be built in Dunedin NZ.  When completed she was dismantled and shipped by rail to Kingston, one of the other towns on Lake Wakatipu, and reassembled, beginning service in 1912.

Originally serving, along with other boats, as the sole means of transportation between communities on the lake, she now ran several times daily serving tourists. We passed it up; we were more interested in other things ... we'd save such things for when we were older and less active.

When planning this trip down under we had debated whether or not to come to Queenstown, or skip it in order to spend longer times at some of our other choices.

One of the delights of travelling is to experience alien environments ... a foreign culture with a different language ... or an environment not at all like home like the Australian outback and the red center, or the Daintree Rainforest, prehuman epochs old ... or best of all, to explore deeply into some specific thing that is a passion for you.

Queenstown, Fjordland, and their environs were none of that ... not alien at all.  Coming from the US/Canada Northwest, we are imbued with the fjords of the Salish Sea and inland passage; we have years of familiarity with playing in the mountains hiking, skiing, and when younger, roped scrambling across glaciers and to the summit of some of the northwest's glaciated peaks.  And I'd lived for several years in Whistler, with its mix of adrenalin junkies scraping by and its wealthy tourists, just like Queenstown. Did we really want to travel so far to see our own backyard?

Happily, we decided yes.  We have a passion for mountains. Though we would have neither time nor equipment with us for hiking some of the surrounding renowned multi-day treks, the next day resonated with our cores.

Milford Sound

With only one day to get to Milford Sound and back, the choice was to drive (too tiring), fly (too weather dependent), or take a bus. After researching the options, over a month ahead we reserved spots on the Milford Sound BBQ bus https://bbqbus.co.nz/.

It was a great choice - a small bus, a personable driver, and a limited amount of passengers; when we stopped at sights we didn't overwhelm the place like the (too many) large buses.  Our driver used his skill to time us to be at viewpoints between the huge buses.

Milford Sound is the destination that gets all of the accolades, but the drive to Milford Sound is equally spectacular.

It was a scenic drive along the shores of Lake Wakatipu looking across it at mountain peaks where spring snow lingered, then through a broad farming valley full of sheep (in New Zealand sheep outnumber people 7 to 1), and then upwards into the sharp, craggy, wet, glaciated mountains.

There was a coffee shop stop to grab a quick bite (our little group amidst throngs from the big buses) and many scenic stops enroute where we had a chance to take some short walks.  If we would have been 2 weeks later, when the BBQ bus returned to its summer schedule, we would have had a BBQ and picnic at one of the stops. But October was still their winter season - we had our BBQ on the boat on Milford Sound.

The first scenic stop was at Mirror Lakes, where the farming valley had changed to a sub-alpine valley and the mountains began to surround us.

Click on any picture in the blog to enlarge it

As we approached the road's summit the spindrift that the winds were blowing off of Mt. Tutoko, and the clearing skies that the winds were blowing in, held promise for the weather at Milford Sound.

Promise fulfilled.
When we got to Milford Sound the weather - and the surroundings - were spectacular; a mystical place.  Best of all: we had happened upon one of the very few sunny days in a year.

The Sound (actually, technically, it's a fjord) is surrounded by sheer rock walls off of which plunge waterfalls - too many to count. It's the sort of place where one would expect a mythical sorcerer's castle to perch high up on a ledge shrouded in mist and clouds.

One of the benefits of being on a small bus: we went on one of the smaller cruise boats on the sound.  Our boat's size enabled it to nose in under several waterfalls. The people standing out on the bow stumbled over the raised boat-door threshold and each other and to get inside, trying to avoid the fall's onslaught drenching where they had been standing and photographing ... I, with my iPhone's camera, scurried around to the protection of the outward side.

Milford Sound opens onto the Tasman Sea near where the Southern Ocean and the Indian Ocean collide - where winds can hurl waves like earthquakes against New Zealand's cliffs.
But today it was serene. Today one could imagine a comfortable sail a little over 1,000 miles directly west to Tasmania, or by turning left, a little over 1,700 miles to the nearest coast of Antarctica. (measured off of Google Earth)

Queenstown

The next day was one of our down days. Because of the flying petri dish's respiratory thing we found we needed to relax between adventures, so we spent the day exploring the town.

Queenstown is, above all, an outdoors place.  An outdoor place both for young adrenalin junkies living on god-knows-what, sedate wealthy grandparents passively enjoying the scenery, and every life-style in between.

It's crowded with backpacker hostels and crowds of exuberant youths celebrating their adventures and preparing for the next. Coexisting, intermingled amongst them, are luxury resorts and condominiums - you can spend as much, and flaunt as much, as you want (The most exclusive places are in the countryside outside of town.). And there are kegs of restaurants and bars ... from relatively inexpensive (even those cost more than in many places) to extravagant ... lots of places where the entire human zoo meets and mingles, and lots of places where those on one end or another of the human spectrum would never be seen.

There are four major ski areas ("ski fields" in Kiwi parlance) surrounding Queenstown (five counting one that is further away) - the season had only recently wound down.  Dozens of stores had their ski season closeout sales on. Many displayed expensive ski clothes that no self-respecting skier could ever, or would want to, afford (even upscale boarder clothes? Things have certainly changed from the days that ski areas forbad those dangerous, grungy, and smelly boarders who slept through the winter in their tents, vans, or cars.)

It is a mecca for hiking ("tramping" in Kiwi parlance) and climbing, the jumping-off place for dozens of multi-days tramps and for dozens of short walks. And it's a mecca for kick-ass mountain biking - and for more leisurely biking to the nearby Gibbston Valley wine country. Outdoor stores abound for every price range.

And, of course, it's a mecca for bungy jumping. A. J. Hackett and Henry Van Asch got the idea from "land-diving" by natives in Vanuatu using vines. They, with a group of Kiwi scientists from the university, developed artificial bungy cords. In 1987 AJ jumped off the Eiffel Tower to demonstrate. (Hey guys! Look! Exciting stuff!) In 1988 they opened the world's first commercial bungy site here at Queenstown at Kawarau Bridge.  Now they have three sites in Queenstown plus other thrills, along with some competition. The bungy jump shown in the round picture at the start of this blog is from that small green platform shown in my picture immediately above. Want to jump tandem with a friend? Nude? You can arrange for that here.

Everyone should take the Skyline Gondola for its panoramic views of Queenstown and Lake Wakatipu (or to ride the luge, or to bungy, or to hike further up.)  While on top we talked with one of the gondola attendants,  a young guy from the UK in New Zealand on a gap year. He'd just that week arrived in Queenstown, temporarily living in a hostel until he could find a more permanent place to live ... gotten this job within days.

And there's every type of boating you can imagine, and some types that you probably can't imagine.
And there are plenty of waterfront promenades and walking paths, places to peaceably stroll while taking in the view.

And for those who feel the need, there's a place to privately regret yesterday's sins.




Bicycling

The next day we were up bright and early for a day of bicycling. We had arranged to rent bikes for a day from Queenstown Bike Tours - located in Arrowtown http://www.queenstownbiketours.co.nz/ to ride from Arrowtown into the wine country in Gibbston Valley.  It's not very far, only about 15 km (9 miles) to some of the wineries. Our mid-70's year old bodies are relatively fit and used to cycling so the ride was easy.

map from Queenstown Bike Tours website

The owner's wife picked us up in our place in Queenstown, then went to another hotel to pick up another biker. We waited. And waited. She phoned him, no answer. She went to the front desk and phoned a second time; he hurried out, apologizing. Then we went to pick up his buddy at another hotel, where we waited and waited again. At long last we drove the faster, back, way to Arrowtown

While they were getting other people set up we decided to walk around Arrowtown ... it's quite a tourist stop, an old preserved but still active town of wood storefronts dating from the gold rush period.  It was only passably interesting, like many of the old gold mining towns in the western US.

They had bikes picked out for us and ready to go ... nice Specialized mountain bikes.  My legs are slightly shorter in proportion to my torso than most, so the bike was just a small bit too tall for me. They were going to change it out for me but it was getting late and I wanted to get going.  It was fine, I just needed to treat the top tube with respect. They gave us maps and some explanation and we were off.

We rode alongside the Arrow River on gravel and compressed soil bike trails most of the way, except a couple of short segments on country roads. The trail crossed the river five times on suspension bridges.
We finally arrived at a sixth suspension bridge, the Kawarau Bridge over the Kawarau River where commercial bungy first started. We joined the many others watching.

Bands to which the bungy rope is attached link the jumper's feet.  The attendants (here in black - securely tethered) help the jumper (here in red) shuffle their feet onto a small platform.  After the the jumper screws up their courage and jumps (regardless of whether they dive or  just jump, they end up head first when the rope goes taut) they spring and pendulum up and down.  After the elastic motion finally subsides attendants in a raft hold a long pole up for the jumper to grab to be pulled to the raft.

I badly broke both my tibia and fibula skiing a few years back, so am a bit cautious about stressing my legs.  But if it were before that I wonder if I would have jumped (nude?).  I would hope so.

We eventually rode on into the wine growing Gibbston Valley.  We rode on the trail above the river into the valley for a bit, then returned to the Gibbston Valley Winery, carefully closing the gate behind us.  The table cloths, menu, and price didn't quite match our bike-riding-intentions, so we walked across their courtyard to their Cheesery.  It was more informal there, and though it didn't seem to have as wide a choice of wines, we had an enjoyable lunch of various cheeses, crackers, bread, and wine.

By mid afternoon we phoned back to QT Tours to arrange for their pickup. The owner met us with his van and bike trailer back at the bungy bridge. I complemented him how good a condition he kept his bikes in. (Incidentally, for those of you who are U.S. cyclists, a word of warning lest you fly over your handlebars in a quick stop: in Australia and New Zealand it seems most bikes have the front brake's lever on the right handlebar.) He drove us back into Gibbston Valley to pick up a van-full of cyclists and bikes at various wineries and a tavern to return them to Arrowtown ... we were the only ones who continued back to Queenstown.

On the way back he told us about QT Bike's history ... although much of their business was from Queenstown (they once had a shop there) they loved the smaller town's laid-back atmosphere and more peaceful life, so he and his wife had elected to run their business in Arrowtown.

I commented to him how, on our trip to Milford Sound when driving past the farmland, and again in the countryside between Arrowtown and Gibbston when we had been biking, and especially now along the back road between Arrowtown and Queenstown, we had passed so many farms where the farmland, although delightfully pastoral, seemed incapable of supporting their farmhouses which were mansions.  He replied that the farms didn't support the mansions; it was the other way around. The super-wealthy from around the world were buying the farms as huge private compounds.

That evening we reluctantly packed, knowing that our next stop, Auckland, would be the end of our trip (It will be in the next part 8 of my blog.)

On the plane we were seated next to a young guy from Belgium. He had spent several weeks exploring the beaches and mountains of the South Island, variously sleeping in his rental car, in a tent, or in hostels. It must have seemed a magical world to him compared to his home in the low-lands of  Europe. We all showed each other our photos on our phones and talked about our trips ... the flight went by too quickly.

Random Musings - Boltholes

It's no wonder that New Zealand, with its unpopulated mix of pastoral expanses and sharp, craggy mountains shrouded by mist and clouds, is the filming location of so many movies like The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings trilogy, and The Chronicles of Narnia.

There is a long tradition in human history of mystical worlds both in the past and in the future ... of pastoral and friendly worlds threatened by destruction accompanied usually by darkness and smokestacks belching, and greediness and violence  ... foreboding castles high up on ledges shrouded in mist and clouds, ruling with an uncaring fist.  The tradition, so common amongst many cultures, speaks to responses deep in the human psyche about good and evil and the battle against greed.

That pastoral and other-worldly and exciting environment of New Zealand is one of the things that has attracted explorations by young backpackers and exuberant thrill seekers, and in their footsteps,  by the mass tourists like us. It has also attracted others.

In "part 6 - Hobart Tasmania" I mentioned that Hobart reminded me of Eugene Oregon in the 1960's and early 1970's: Lots of denim. Lots of wool. Lots of foul weather gear. Lots of art.  Lots of crafts. A place where many young people could attempt "getting back to the earth". Parts of New Zealand still has hints of the remnants of that.

New Zealand also reminds me of Whistler Canada in the 1970's and in the early 1980's: a place at that time with young people trying to be self-sufficient, surviving on scraps so that they could experience life amidst the magnificence and the challenges of our planet while escaping the pressures and smog of the cities.

But like the 1960's, 70's and 80's, those times are disappearing, or have disappeared, fast. Tasmania a bit, but more so Whistler Canada, and especially New Zealand are now attracting the very utmost wealthy in the world.

I mentioned in "part 6 - Hobart Tasmania" that in the 1830's and 1840's Port Arthur was a prison with walls, within a prison walled by dogs staked at Eaglehawk Neck, within the prison of Tasmania walled by water, within a prison of Australia walled by oceans. The end of the earth.

In the 2010's Australia, Tasmania and New Zealand seem more like castles, shrouded in mist, surrounded by  thousand-of-miles high walls of the oceans' water.  Throughout Australia and New Zealand we heard strong comments, and saw strong wording in the newspapers, about the amount of the world's super-wealthy buying large tracts as private compounds where they could enjoy clean air and clean water and an idyllic setting, but which could also serve as "boltholes" to where they could bolt if need be if the pitchforks rose up, or if the missiles flew - where they could bolt the doors shut.

"At the Republican party convention in Cleveland last July [2016], Trump donor Peter Thiel declared himself 'most of all, proud to be an American'. So it came as something of a surprise for New Zealanders to discover that the PayPal co-founder and Facebook board member had become an honorary Kiwi – joining a growing band of wealthy Americans seeking a haven from a possible global apocalypse.

"... By the time of his appearance at the Republican convention, Thiel had already bought 193 hectares of pristine South Island land using his rights as a Kiwi."

 From The Guardian, Jan. 28, 2017

"News this week that Peter Thiel, co-founder of PayPal, was among 92 applicants secretly granted New Zealand citizenship outside normal procedures is focusing attention on the influx of wealthy migrants to the South Pacific nation. This follows an article in the New Yorker that pinpointed New Zealand as a favoured destination for rich 'survivalists' preparing for apocalypse."

From the article "Self-sufficient boltholes tempt global super-rich to New Zealand"
in  The Financial Times, Feb. 3, 2017

The article that spurred the above articles was in the New Yorker on January 30, 2017:  Doomsday Prep for the Super-Rich by Evan Osnos; it was succinctly summed up in its subtitle "Some of the wealthiest people in America—in Silicon Valley, New York, and beyond—are getting ready for the crackup of civilization." 

There are so many quotes from that article that are worth pondering, but I'll mention one passage that stands out:

"By January, 2015, [Robert A. Johnson, formerly a hedge fund manager, now head of a think tank, the Institute for New Economic Thinking]  was sounding the alarm: the tensions produced by acute income inequality were becoming so pronounced that some of the world’s wealthiest people were taking steps to protect themselves. At the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland, Johnson told the audience, “I know hedge-fund managers all over the world who are buying airstrips and farms in places like New Zealand because they think they need a getaway.

"Johnson wishes that the wealthy would adopt a greater “spirit of stewardship,” an openness to policy change that could include, for instance, a more aggressive tax on inheritance. “Twenty-five hedge-fund managers make more money than all of the kindergarten teachers in America combined,” he said. “Being one of those twenty-five doesn’t feel good. I think they’ve developed a heightened sensitivity.” The gap is widening further. In December, the National Bureau of Economic Research published a new analysis, by the economists Thomas Piketty, Emmanuel Saez, and Gabriel Zucman, which found that half of American adults have been “completely shut off from economic growth since the 1970s.” Approximately a hundred and seventeen million people earn, on average, the same income that they did in 1980, while the typical income for the top one per cent has nearly tripled. That gap is comparable to the gap between average incomes in the U.S. and the Democratic Republic of Congo, the authors wrote.

"Johnson said, 'If we had a more equal distribution of income, and much more money and energy going into public school systems, parks and recreation, the arts, and health care, it could take an awful lot of sting out of society. We’ve largely dismantled those things.' "

I remember growing up in small towns. The most wealthy and the poorest went to the same public schools. To me, it's not important that they were public schools.  The thing that was important is that we all went to the same schools.  As kids of course we all formed our cliques.  But we all knew each other.  We all talked and played together.  We all understood each other. Our community had a common bond. Nowadays private or charter schools are hailed by some as ways to improve education, and they may well improve parts of education.  But at immense costs.  They drain funds away from public school, but far worse, they divide us ... they divide our kids ... we don't get to know each other and empathize with each other ... the sense of community and the common good gets lost ... for generations.

It seems to me that at an increasing rate of speed modern medieval castles are being built on hilltops, complete with their own faithful churches and freedom for those within the walls, all protected within their high walls. From there, it's hard to see, or understand, or empathize with those who produce the food and repair the roofs and walls, the masses of serfs below.  It worries me.  Are we reverting to wild animals' survival of the fittest, with none of the  morality that differentiates us from wild animals?

But looking out on the spring fields of New Zealand, on its empty beaches, its persevering rocky headlands, and its soaring mountains - all of them similar to America's Pacific Northwest, I can't help but feel eventual hope. In The Lord of the Rings Frodo Baggins and his fellow Hobbits went through dark, dangerous, harrowing times, like those that periodically transpire throughout history. But the world survived its various dark ages and prospered. And Frodo Baggins and his fellow Hobbits survived and eventually triumphed over the Dark Lord Sauron.

I hope that my faith in humanity, and in democracy, is well-placed. And hopefully an impetuous and fearful hand doesn't push the button.

But enough of that. New Zealand is too much fun to be morose.  Next stop, Auckland. And then back to our comfortable home.