By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end...

Having had just about all the adventure we could handle the day before, we decided today that we were going to go back to a place where we were familiar, Queenstown. Leaving Mavora, we retraced our steps past Mossburn and up around Lake Wakatipu (80km long) to the elbow of the lake where Queenstown is located. It was just as we had left it: sunny. Not sure what it is about the geography of the place, but for some reason it always seemed to clear up and get nice as we headed into town... This might have also been the fact that we had settled on two happy things: One: that we would stay in a motel, not the horrid van, and Two: that we were going to make more pasta!

We swung by the supermarket before continuing up back through Peter Jackson's valley to the Shotover Lodge, where we checked into our room. It was nowhere near as impressive as the last we had stayed at, but it was just as welcoming after the sort of chaos that we seem to attract on a daily basis. Once we were settled in, we brought our ingredients up to the kitchen, which we found was a restaurant quality set-up with fancy stoves, utensils, and kitchenware. It served as the perfect place to prepare the most delicious, massive pasta dish ever! While enjoying our amazing lunch/supper combination, along with a mudcake and two bagels, we tuned in to a few random movies and TV shows.

The next morning (on Nov 16) we woke up and, deciding to test the limits of how long we could stay past the typical 10 am check-out time, we took our time. We ate the other half of our gigantic pasta dish. On the itinerary today was a stop-off at a place that we almost missed, most likely due to the fact that it was in the direction of Moke Lake (A failed camping option on Day 14) and Dart Stables (A failed tour on Day 16) and we wanted to forget all about that direction entirely. It didn't help that it was out of order in the guide book either, and we only realized we missed it at Mavora Lakes when looking for any little thing we could do to fill in five empty days between now and our departure date.

So it was that we headed North of Queenstown to the Twelve Mile Delta, another Department of Conservation Campground. The name of the general location was about the only thing our guide book was specific about though. Sometimes it gets things right on, and we end up stumbling onto a site right away. Other times, it's ridiculously vague in direction or parking, which is an issue considering there has also been ten years of natural growth and man-made development in any given area. Nevertheless, after reading and re-reading the book, staring at an area map, and fumbling with GPS co-ordinates on an inaccurate GPS, we finally decided to just go with the most likely option and hope for the best. "Follow the path and you will cross a bridge over the Twelve Mile Delta stream" the guide book said, not explaining which path or bridge to take in particular. We followed a path. We crossed a bridge with a gorge. We climbed a hill and approximately ten minutes from the trail's start, just as the book said, we found ourselves in Ithilien, right where Sam, Frodo and Gollum camped.

The only downfall of a bright sunny day is that it makes the Ipad hard to see, which makes identifying an exact location so much harder. Fortunately, we were able to make out one thing that changes very, very, very, slowly: Mountains. Using mountains to line up our shots, we re-created a few scenes out of the movie and then moved onto the bank where in the movie the trio watched Faramir's ambush of the Oliphaunts. A few more re-enactments and we were ready to go back. Our final destination on the itinerary for today had been Alexandra, a town on a zigzagging route to the West Coast that would lead us past the film sites used for the Rohirran village and the Hobbit's Warg Chase. Unfortunately, upon reading further in the book, we realized that to get to the site it would require driving on a dirt road with devastatingly strong wind gusts and again, us with no 4WD or insurance on unsealed roads. We could pay the local landowner to take us out there, but it would also take longer for us to get to the West Coast taking this route overall, and so rather than travelling in stages and reaching the West Coast later, we decided were just going to make a run for it and drive the three hour stretch all at once.

Once past Queenstown, we were into the territory of places we had passed a week ago but never stopped at, as it was getting late by the time we were making the last leg of our journey to the city. We stopped at a fresh fruit orchard just outside of a town we spotted a week earlier, one with a bunch of giant fruit statues on their town sign. There, despite already having some fruit, we caved in and bought a $10 fruit deal, which included 1kg of giant apples, 1kg of oranges, 1kg of kiwifruit, 4 pears and a lemon. The theory is that we will send our vitamin count through the roof just before travelling, so our bodies will be supercharged enough to beat off any sicknesses we happen to be exposed to on the way back home.

We arrived at Oamaru just before suppertime, but we were honestly still not hungry after our massive breakfast, supplemented with a pear each and some chocolate for lunch, so we drove around town looking for things to do. The library had free wifi, so we made the best of that and located a few penguin colonies nearby. By colonies though, they mean one of two things; at the Blue Eyed Penguin colony, they mean a place protected from the public by a giant wall, which could only be crossed by paying for the tour. At the Yellow Eyed Penguin colony, they meant a place where nests are in the bush-line of the beach, and if anyone is on the beach, the penguins aren't. Needless to say, with around thirty people watching from a distant viewing area, some oblivious idiots passed three signs and two fence gates to take a stroll down the beach. The end result was that only one brave penguin crossed from sea to nest, and that was so far out that it was hardly a moving speck to the naked eye, and not much more to a camera lens at full zoom.

A bit disappointed, but at least happy to have seen anything at all, we headed back through town, where we marvelled at a section of old buildings all preserved with their Victorian era limestone facades. Another marvel was the fact that every single motel, motor home and hotel seemed to have no vacancy, and we had no idea why. Upon arriving at our planned destination, a Holiday Park a short drive out of town, we found out why. We happened to arrive in Oamaru on the eve of one of their most important days, an annual Victorian Fete. As to what that was, we had no clue, but we were damned if we were going to miss out on something that drew such massive crowds and involved hundreds of vendors, events, and people dressed up in period clothing from the 1800s.

The last day of exploration and entertainment in New Zealand turned out, like almost every other one, a cold and rainy day. Sun would have been too much to ask for on our very last experience in the country. We headed into the chaos that had become historic downtown Oamaru, which had become so busy that we had to park several blocks away. We only found the event by following others heading in that direction, which was easy enough considering some of them were dressed large dresses, suits, or elaborate top hats. Eventually, we made it to the event itself, which was blocked off by a white picket fence and a bower. We paid our entrance fees, and headed into the milling crowds, made up of curious tourists and costumed New Zealanders.

There were events going throughout the day, set up in and around several historic buildings we had driven past the evening before. Events included feats such as the World Stonecutting championships, the National Pipe Smoking Competition, the Costume Parade, Celtic Orchestras, Harpists, and the "Intergalactic Uke Orchestra" which ended up playing (and coughing) on the same stage at the same time as the Pipe Smokers. Vendors along the streets added to the chaos, where local and national merchants sold everything from candy to fossils (both of which held our attention for a while). It was a celebration of New Zealand culture and a perfect way to wrap up a month abroad. All in all the experience was a unique and fun way to spend the morning, similar to a renaissance fair but in and around actual buildings, rather than fake, cartoony structures. Out of all our experiences in New Zealand, it is definitely one of the ones that we would recommend to anyone travelling in the country, if you happen to be in the area on the one day that it goes on each year.

To finish it all up, we experienced a final beach, this one made up of millions of skipping stones of various sizes. All the ones that people throw into water must end up here. The waves of the Pacific kept us from getting too close to the edge, but we were able to find some of the wonders of the ocean further up the beach. Only a minute along the beach and, to our shock, Janelle looked down towards the water and was startled by movement just a few feet away on the lower terrace. A lone seal shuffled a bit, looked at us, grumbled indignantly then turned around and gallumped (how seals walk?) out into the ocean. With one last look of condemnation shot back at us for ruining her slumber, she vanished into the waves. This prompted us to go get the camera, and of course we saw no other seals.

We stayed at the same campsite again, but luckily as there were no longer a bajillion people in town we got the regular rate for non-powered campsites. Made soup for supper, and then baked a few apples for dessert. This served two purposes. It was a good way to use up our butter, sugar and cinnamon, and also it was delicious. We liked it so much that we baked four more apples for breakfast.

The next day didn't really do much, nor are we doing much of note right now besides relaxing, packing up, and counting down until home-time. It has definitely been an adventure, and at a few times during the trip we wanted nothing more than some magic to instantly transport us back to Canada. BUT overall we had some crazy experiences we won't soon forget and it will be fun (and greatly annoying to others) to watch the Lord of the Rings and get to point excitedly and yell "We were there!" every few minutes.

This marks the end of our adventures and perhaps the last blog... maybe we'll put one more up of the differences/peculiarities that we noticed between New Zealand and home. But we will sadly have no more Middle Earth stories to report. 

We made it 'There' and now we just have to get 'Back Again.'