Thunder rolls from the Sefton Glacier over Mount Cook Village. We see a large avalanche at 2300 metres. After almost two weeks of sunshine and temperatures of over 30° in New Zealand, it’s no wonder. In the late afternoon, another avalanche starts, but we only hear it.
Every trip is different. I’ve already been to Mount Cook, but I’ve never seen it. The Hooker Valley Track leads over large suspension bridges and raging glacial rivers to Hooker Lake in front of Mount Cook. It’s great weather again today. Blue glacier ice floats in the white water. A cold wind blows off the glacier, clouds gather in the late afternoon.
We’ve just been lucky again. We don’t make it to the high alpine Mueller Hut, the forecast for the next day is thunderstorms, rain and snow far below. I’ve caught a cold from the Routeburn Track and kiting on cold Lake Wakatipu. Time for a little break.
The landscape south of Mount Cook National Park is unique: endless wide plains full of tussock grass and gentle high mountains up to 2,000 metres. Today we sleep on a real farm, Buscot Station. The owner and master of 11,000 sheep is the most educated farmer I have ever met on all my travels.
He switches from current New Zealand politics to the reduction of crystal meth addicts, skilfully takes a hook to exciting crime stories, then abruptly switches to an analysis of relations between Israel and Palestine without upsetting the Israelis present. In between, some Superbowl and amusement about the blackout. In the evening, information about Merino sheep and the effects of the Kyoto Protocol on New Zealand breeders. We discuss Schröder’s move to Gazprom partly in German, as the gentleman farmer also wanted to emigrate to Switzerland. Great hospitality and good people in an environment that is more Victorian mansion than farm.
During the night, a thick area of low pressure with heavy storms passes over New Zealand. The temperature drops to around 25°, fresh snow falls on the mountains above 1,400 metres at the beginning of New Zealand August. Dark rain clouds and bright patches of sun paint an unreal landscape in the morning. Annabelle the sheep bleats goodbye to us.
Frank Woelky, born in 1973. Kitesurfer since 1998. Since 2006, I have been combining kitesurfing and web design on trips lasting several months off the beaten track.