The road to Milford Sound was treacherous. It had just been cleared of the snow which blocked the road and kept me in Glenorchy those extra two nights. The mountains were so steep, so snow-covered that the entire area was an avalanche risk and cars were forbidden to stop.
I snapped a single pic waiting at a signal for the tunnel under the mountain to clear of outbound traffic. (See that tiny black oval at the end of the road? That’s the single lane tunnel under that giant fucking mountain.)
Milford Sound was an eerie clash of alpine and tropical. 
The foliage looked downright Hawaiian, yet the mountains were dusted with snow.
I had miscalculated how long the drive all the way from Glenorchy would take. The day’s last sightseeing boats out into the Sound had already left. 
The Sound itself was calm and quiet. 
I found this giant block of sacred greenstone (“pounamu” in Maori) in the sightseeing boat terminal.
In fact the Maori name for the South Island is “Te Wai Pounamu” which means “Island of the Greenstone Water.”
I started worrying about getting snowed in, so I hurried back. All the way to Queenstown.
The scars of World War I are visible in all parts of the British Empire. Even in sleepy lakeside towns half a world away from the trenches.
I found these compost, recycle, and trash bins amusing. Can’t decide if, as a child, I would find them delightful or if I would find them feeding my nightmares.
Part of what I enjoy about traveling is intentionally becoming lost. In Glenorchy, I had the chance to look up at the Southern sky. I picked out the Southern Cross but other than that — not knowing any other constellations, not being able to name a single star — I was utterly, completely, delightfully lost. For the first time since I was a small child, the sky was illegible. It was like being transported to a distant solar system or into Earth’s distant past or future.
The north end of Lake Wakatipu tapers off at a small, sleepy town called Glenorchy. This is the “top of the lake” where acclaimed New Zealand filmmaker Jane Campion set her television show 
I blew through the ski resort town of Queenstown and drove the lonely road skirting Lake Wakatipu.
The sun started setting as I approached the northern end of the lake.
