17 January 2025

I woke this morning to the sounds of rain and tried to work out what I’d need to wear and take with me when we went on today’s adventures.

And then I realised it was the fan I could hear. This is a really stuffy room, and we had the windows open and fan going all night.

I got up, got my breakfast and Pen got up 8.25.

Today’s plan was to go to the Te Anau Bird Sanctuary for the bird feeding at 10.30, but as it was, we were told when we booked over the phone yesterday, a twenty-minute walk from town, we wanted to make sure that we had plenty of time to get there.

Which we did. In full sun.

We were fortunate to discover a walkway that followed the shoreline and meant that we didn’t have to worry about walking on the road towards oncoming traffic. All we needed to worry about was being bowled by passing cyclists.

We reached the bird sanctuary and worked our way through, trying to find the carpark where we were to meet our guide. This was also the location of the toilet and I thought I’d make use of it before the walk started.

This was a longdrop. Remember how I gave the Ulva Island longdrop a ten out of ten and wanted to pinch it for Rangitoto? This one rated probably a two… If that. It seemed clean on the surface, but you wouldn’t want to be locked in there too long – You’d be overcome by ammonia fumes. And there was no water or hand sanitiser to sterilise your hands afterwards. Fortunately, I had some sanitiser on my belt bag, and I got Pen to squirt some onto my hands. I also let a Canadian lady have some after using it.

Our guide, who I think was called Ross, looked to be about 80, but I’d say that was 80 years of experience, as he used to be a ranger on the Milford Sound track. He definitely knew his stuff.

We started out by looking at the Whio/Blue Duck. This pair had had a pair of chicks, but they were being looked after in a separate area and were due to be put on display shortly. The enclosure used to be fish breeding ponds and had been adapted for the Whio, with a stream running through that could be adjusted to simulate faster flowing water. Ross said that even a couple of days after hatching, the chicks were capable of negotiating water that would knock a human being down.

My camera wasn’t that keen on focussing on the duck because of the mesh keeping them safe, but I did get a couple of photos.

And then it was on to the Takahē.

They weren’t that keen on cooperating at first, and the Canadian couple proudly showed a photo of the bird they’d seen when they’d initially walked through the sanctuary. (She was a bit loud, so we were glad when they left early).

There was an area that was fenced off from the Takahē, but was within the full encloser and was therefore lower than the main protector. As we’d paid for the tour, we were allowed into this area and had the joy of watching two adult Takahē and their foster chick, feed and be feed. They definitely appreciated the food supplement that Ross laid out for them.

When we left this enclosure, Ross showed us a genuine Takahē egg, as well as a demonstration nest, which was little more than some grass. Normal birds use feathers for warmth. Takahē line their nests with moss and then the parent’s body heat warms the moss which retains its heat when the parent moves away.

And, as an aside, because Takahē feed on fibrous tussock (about the bottom four inches of a stem) they excrete a lot of roughage. About nine metres worth a day.

Having held the egg, we moved on to the scaup enclosure, which was open to allow the birds to fly free. We were enthralled by the cute fluffy chicks, and the ease with which both parents and chicks could dive. My camera was less enthralled and found it difficult to focus.

After this, we moved to the Kākā cage, which was empty as both birds have been moved to Dunedin for the breeding programme. The female, Charlie Girl, is causing some consternation and concern as some think she’s showing distressed behaviour and should be brought back to Te Anau, whereas others think she’s fine and it’s normal Kākā behaviour. Ross was hopeful that they would return.

Finally, we were shown the Antipodes Island Parakeet/Kākāriki, and were allowed to feed them bits of fruit on toothpicks. But we were warned to keep our fingers clear as they enjoy a good nibble and would draw blood.

After that, the tour was over (at $10 each, it was worth making a point of getting there in time for the feeding), and we had a wander around the complex.

Back when we were on the bus to Manapouri, Chris said that the Haast’s Eagle had a wingspan of 2.5 metres. Gabe, on the other hand, said it was three metres. There was a sign here that said that it was four metres…

I don’t think I want to know any more about the Haast’s Eagle.

But that bastion of information, Wikipedia, says the bird’s wingspan was 2.6 metres to three metres.

As we were walking back along the walkway, my watch started vibrating.

It’s interesting, this smart watch. It tells the time (naturally), but also the number of steps taken, breaths per minute, quality of your sleep (not sure about the accuracy of this one), blood oxygen levels, intensity of workout, heartrate, body battery, stress level (always high, according to this), upcoming events, weather and temperature, can operate basic controls on your music player, and do a countdown if you’re timing something. It also tells you when you need to move and suggests actions to take, which I thought that, with my sedentary job and hobbies, would be handy. Except that it tends to tell me to move, when I’ve just moved. Often to the toilet – which I don’t think is the motion it’s looking for.

Another thing that it does, is show texts received. Very handy when, like during this walk, I received a text from Jan B. that the Historic Kōpū Bridge container was being shifted into position, and that she was going to go out and get photos. She didn’t have Carolyn’s mobile number, so could I let her know in case she wanted to see and record the action as well. If I’d been relying on my phone, I wouldn’t have known all this until much later, but as it was, I was able to fish out my phone and copy and send this message to Carolyn. The watch does have the ability to reply, but only with pre-programmed phrases like “Yes!”, “No”, “I’m on my way”, “Great!”, “OK” – which don’t always work if that question is something like: “Would soup be all right for tea?”

“Yes!”

We got it all sorted, and it was very strange to be having a conversation with two people on a totally different island and part of the country than them.

We got back to the CBD just after midday and discovered that the temperature was 34℃. It felt it.

We bought lunch from The Olive Tree and I had a lamb & mint panini, which, disappointingly, didn’t have as much mint as the lamb and mint pie that I had at Oliver’s Bakery in Thames.

And then it was back to RealNZ to catch the ferry across the lake.

We were going to the Te Anau Glowworms.

This time we had a Noisy American woman with us, and I was pleased when we were divided into groups of ten and she just missed the cut for our group.

We were led, by Mereana, through a short bushwalk to the mouth of the cave, which I don’t even remember being a big deal, and told that silence would be needed. (Yay! No noisy American!). There was a boardwalk we followed through the cave and saw some amazing rock formations eaten away by the underground river. We were the first group (of four), so we were quicker through these chambers, but had the advantage of being longer in the boat with the glowworms.

The noise of the river was deafening and somewhat overpowering, and I this was after they’d had little rain this past week. I wouldn’t want to hear it at full roar. But it did mean that when we got to the underground punts, and Mereana pulled us along through the water with the assistance of chains, that the silence was equally overwhelming, but in a different way.

We went out what seemed to be a short distance, sat in silence underneath this constellation of little stars, and then returned to the underground jetty.

There was a slight detour to an underground waterfall, which was just as awe inspiring, but, for one boy, who appeared to suffer from acrophobia, too much to handle. (The noise of the rushing water probably didn’t help.) Luckily for him, we were on the way out.

It didn’t seem to be very long, but we were told we were underground for about 35 minutes.

Since we couldn’t take photos inside the glowworm complex

While we waited for the other groups to complete their tour, we enjoyed a talk and videos on glowworms. As you’re probably aware, they’re not worms, but fly larva. “And what else pupates into flies…?”

“Maggots!” I said, when no one else did.

Our guide said I was correct, but that glowmaggots didn’t sound as appealing as glowworms.  

You’re probably also aware that they drop down long sticky threads that act as fishing lines, and that the glowing bioluminescence at the end of their tail is the lure. They entrap moths, spiders, and each other – as evidenced by a video of one juvenile that didn’t get the message and, having already been tossed off the wall for getting too close to an older maggot and climbed back up, was eaten.

Also of interest, was that moths are hard for glowworms to eat, having scaly wings that shed and an exoskeleton. There’s only one way for the glowworm to break through and start eating… And no, it’s not what you’re thinking. It’s the eyeball.

Collective squirming from everyone present.

What makes this worse (for our sensibilities) is that the glowworm injects its digestive juices into the moth through the eye and then takes a few days to suck the moth back out… And the moth is alive and supposedly aware of this whole process.

After that stomach-churning bit of information, we caught the boat back. And discovered that at, just after 4.00pm it was 32℃. So we bought ourselves and ice cream. (I had two scoops of Gold Rush with a chocolate shell. Yum.)

Once we’d washed our hands after our snack, we went to supermarket and bought our tea for tonight. We decided to keep it easy and bought ourselves ready meals.

Yesterday, I emailed Queenstown i-Site to find out what we needed to do about booking transportation to the Kingston Flyer. I hadn’t heard anything by lunchtime, so I copied the email to Lylo where we’re going to be staying. They were very quick with their response, but said that the only options were hire a car and self-drive, catch a taxi, or hitch.

A tourism hotspot like Queenstown doesn’t have a way of getting people to see one of the longest running tourist attractions in the region?

Pen spent a bit of time researching all options, including her having to drive, which she wasn’t that thrilled about, but we eventually decided that the cost of the car would be as much as forfeiting our booking fee. (You got your money back if you gave them two days notice, but it was less that that.) So, we’ve cancelled the Kingston Flyer and we’re going on the TSS Earnslaw instead. (Which is disappointing as, as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to ride the Kingston Flyer. But whenever I’ve had the opportunity, there’s either been no transportation or it hasn’t been running.

With that saga sorted, we had our ready meals, with chocolate mousse and strawberries for dessert, in the lounge. To show you how “substandard” this place is, the customer use microwave hasn’t been cleaned since we’ve been here, and the breakfast dishes hadn’t been washed.

We listened to the episode of the Wellington recording of the No Such Thing as a Fish podcast as we ate, followed by Dan Snow’s history podcast on “How to Survive the Great Fire of London”… Which I still don’t know the answer to.

But it was a nice sunset.

Steps = 17,299

Kilometres = 11.9