Rob's blog

Queensland, Australia

Our flight was from Christchurch into Brisbane.  Brisbane is the capital city of the state (or province) or Queensland - where we spent our entire trip.  Australia, itself, is about the size of the US (sans Alaska & Hawaii), so to try to get a feel for the entire country would be unrealistic, if not impossible, in just one week.  In planning, the budget didn't exactly accommodate my Man From Snowy River horse trekking fantasy vacation, so we opted for the cheapest, touristy-est, scenic-est route possible.  This brought us (as aforementioned) into Brisbane.

Sunday we woke to a trail of ants in the room and "covering" Tanner's bed.  Luckily, the ants hadn't gotten under the covers or discovered Tanner yet.  We notified the management and went to church.  After church, we had  a quick lunch at the motel (devoid of ants) before changing our clothes and going for a drive out to Natural Bridge - further south.  We were blown away by the dense foliage, the eucalyptus forests and the granite cliffs.  We had heard ad nauseum about Australia's drought, so we were a bit surprised to have rain off and on all day.  I'm not sure how it could have been more beautiful, though, with the sometimes clouds brushing up against the mountains and trailing up the cliffs with misty fingers.  The occasional brilliant bursts of sunlight would illuminate the canopy, kissing the treetops and spotlighting the cliffs and peaks and painting rainbows across the sky.  We drove past heaps of horse farms igniting Man From Snowy River fantasies in me.  The homes were on huge sections nestled in a valley with cliffs on one side and mountains on the other.  Nearly every home had a wraparound porch and was surrounded by cattle and horses grazing......AAAhhhhhhhh......

When we reached the Natural Bridge park, we read the map guiding us through the rainforest to the cave with the waterfall through the roof (the natural bridge).  The walk was a short loop.  The sign said, "easier grade clockwise."  I can't remember if we even went in  the clockwise direction or not - we got  good laugh out of it, though.  It was a spectacular walk.  Very Tarzan with tons of vines and much more greenery in one square km than I had expected in the whole of Australia.  At 4:30, on the way back to Brisbane, it began to rain in earnest with the rain coming down (in pockets) like a good, hard, AZ rain.  Back at the motel, the kids explored outside.  There is far more wildlife in Australia than in NZ - more of everything - heaps of ants, lizards, birds

IMG_5425.JPG

On Mon., we visited the much anticipated amusement park, "Dreamworld."  Here our expectations worked against us as Dreamworld came nowhere near the quality (or quantity) of rides of Disneyland or Knotts Berry Farm or some of the other CA amusement parks.  It had one roller coaster that met Tanner, Nate, and Garrett's high adrenaline standards, but most of the other rides were fairly underwhelming.  However, thanks to an always cloudy, sometimes rainy day, the lines were short, and we were able to sample the entire park.  One very surprising feature of the park was their Australia Experience section.  Here, they had all sorts of Aussie animals in pens that were very close to the walkway. In fact, they had "tame" kangaroos (and a joey) you could pet and koalas you could cuddle.  The crocodiles were only about 3 metres from the sidewalk and the dingos, wombat, emus, tigers and snakes were all very active and just metres away.  We watched a great show where they sheared a sheep and we got acquainted with the Aussie's version of the pigeon - the ibis.  It is actually a really cool looking bird, but rather big (and frightening) to be jumping up on your picnic table and eating your unattended french fries ("chips").

The next morning (Tues.,)  we drove up into the Glass House Mountains.  On the way, we stopped to snap a photo of a kangaroo crossing sign.  Here, we got our first taste of the well-renowned Aussie spiders.  They have hundreds of varities and many of them are poisonous (they also have hundreds of venomous snakes which we luckily never "accidentally" ran into).  Anyhow, we saw dozens of gigantic, colorful, incredibly creepy spiders throughout our trip - several on our hike up Mt. Ngungun.  At the top, we could see out to the ocean and 360 degrees around us - beautiful, strange mountains and peaks (imagine green and granite weaver's needle) as well as tidy farms and plantations.  We stopped at a roadside stand on the way out of town and got some locally grown apples, pineapples and watermelon.  They also grow macadamia nutes and avacodos.  The pineapple was absolutely incredible.  It was like a sweet, Hawaii pineapple - the difference, I suspect, being that here and in Hawaii, they pick them ripe and sweet and sell them that day or the next.  They were 1 dollar each (I bought 4).

We headed for the coast and spent the afternoon surfing at King's Beach near Calloundra  before heading north again to Nambour.  In Nambour, we lucked into a motel with a crummy exterior but amazing interiors and five star service.  There was rainfall (intermittently torrential) off and on all night.  The next morning, after trying out several local bakeries, we drove to Eumundi.  In this town, they have the largest outdoor market in Australia - on Wednesdays and Sundays.  We had a great time spending all of our Aussie dollars on boomerangs, jewelry and a diggerydoo (which some of the boys were able to pick up and play in the store though I still can't get a note out of it).  Again, it rained off and on all day - something that the locals said was fairly normal - which leads me to believe that they don't know what a drought actually is.  In any case, Australia sure was green for us - a crazy green, different from NZ green (more like the north island than the south).  They had tons more trees - taller ones and woodier - most of them eucalyptus trees ("gum trees").

Anyhow, on the drive north up Hwy 1 toward the south end of the Great Barrier Reef - near Maryborough, we spotted some kangaroos in the wild - just like you might see a deer in the US.  It was a great "Oh my Gosh! I'm in Australia!" moment (we saw a few more in our drives - even a kangaroo road kill).  The rain continued as we travelled north, jeopardizing our chances at the Great Barrier Reef, but we drove on, determined to give it a go.  We drove past Childers and Bundaberg - very Hawaii looking with their lush tropical vegetation, their red volcanic soil and their fields and fields of sugar cane.  We stayed the night in the Town of 1770 just outside of Agnes Water.  At our little park, we did some laundry and walked around, spotting a kookooburra (sitting in a gum tree, no less).

We woke early to a little drizzle and boarded the boat that took us out to Lady Musgrave Island on the Great Barrier Reef.  We had all taken some motion sickness pills, but we were unprepared for the rough waters that we encountered out to the reef.  At times, our little ship was in such a deep trough that you could only see water ahead and behind.  Sometimes, we would ride up a wave and crash down on the other side with such a jolt that it felt like you might lose a filling.  Everyone got sick at some point except Nate who crouched in his chair with his eyes closed and his ears shut the whole 2 hour trip.  Apparently, the boat ride out is notoriously bad. The ship's crew were adept and nonplussed about handing out and retrieving barf bags (what a job!).  There was one woman on the boat who started wretching very early on and never could seem to get any relief  - nor give any as she was a violent (and an extremely loud) vomiter.  Anyhow, we all recovered quickly once we reached the shelter of the reef.  The crew fed us constantly (and apologetically?) throughout the rest of the day.  We took a little boat to Lady Musgrave Island and toured it before coming back out to the ship (docked at a permanent station about 200 metres from the island) and eating lunch.  Then we all went out snorkelling.  It was a great day.  It didn't rain and we had terrific visibility underwater.  We were able to spot loads of different types of fish and sea turtles.  We went out in a glass bottom boat, too, and fed the giant grouper that lives under the docking station.  The boat ride back to the mainland was surprisingly peaceful (again, the crew said that this was normal (against the swells as we came out, with them as we rode in) and the sun came out and stayed out for the remainder of our trip.  We drove as fast as we could (south now) to a turtle rookery near Bundaberg where we had reserved a spot to wait around and see if some Loggerhead endangered sea turtles would hatch from their nests and let us watch them make their way out to sea (this only occurs after dark).  We were pretty lucky to be in the first group called out to the beach.  We were led very carefully to a nest that had just hatched.  On this particular beach, 330 mother turtles lay 3-4 clutches every season with 100-150 hatchlings per clutch.  We watched one such group of hatchlings emerge from their sandy nests at once.  It was quite a sight - I was (as the woman next to me said) GOBSMACKED!  After telling us all about the turtles, and letting the kids all touch them, they let the turtles run out to sea (about 9pm now).  It was really a very cool, Aussie Day.  We dragged our super sleepy salty selves down the road to a crummy Maryborough motel that sported a huge roach under one of the beds.  It was super late, though, so we (I) braved up and went to bed.

At what felt like very early in the am, we dragged ourselves to Tin Can Bay to feed the "wild" dolphins - Mystique and her friend.  These two dolphins showed up to a very public boat dock to be hand fed hundreds of tiny (6-8 in) fish by eager children and adults.  Though it was all rather "assembly line," it was still pretty cool for the kids to be in the water with dolphins.

Rob's google maps had failed us a couple of times, but our rental car atlas of Queensland maps was pretty comprehensive and spectacular.  Rob was "all-time driver" while I navigated (this saved us a couple of bucks each day - not having me be on the rental agreement).  This arrangement was fairly efficient until my ambitious navigating brought us to a short cut that (on the map) was supposed to be a main road through Cooloolaba Forest, but was, in fact, a bumpy dirt road.  We had to back track a bit, but since the rest of the day was bumming on the Alexandra beach near Mooloolaba, it didn't matter too much.  The boys had a great time surfing, boogie boarding and basically wrangling the waves.  Rob and I enjoyed relaxing on the beach.  Rob had tried surfing at King's Beach, so I gave it a go here, but was largely unsuccessful - no, hugely unsuccessful, though I have heaps of bruises to prove my efforts.

Friday night, we drove down to Brisbane and stayed in the motel closest to the temple (about a 30 sec drive).  This was, unfortunately, one of the worst motels we had stayed in to date.  However, it had a kitchen we could use and no ants or roaches (and it was close to the temple), so we tried to make the most of it.  The Brisbane temple is gorgeous.  It is fairly new and set overlooking the river and the downtown. 

Saturday afternoon, we drove downtown and went to the Queen St. mall to window shop.  We also tried out the much vaunted Donut King (doesn't hold a candle to Dunkin' Donuts).  We walked to a beautiful park overlooking the river that winds around Brisbane - Australia's parks are much like America's - not as wicked awesome as NZ deathtraps/playgrounds.

IMG_5808.JPG

Sunday morning we went to church in the Brisbane ward in the meeting house adjacent to the temple.  We arrived about 5 minutes early and had to sit in the overflow!  When the ward choir got up to sing, the entire bishopric got up to sing with them.  The men outnumbered the women 8 to 7 and sounded (the men) as though they had been hand picked by the choir director.  I don't know when I have heard a stronger men's tenor section (since Jen's Tempe young men's choir extraordinaire).  The women became mere background singers.  I hope they weren't watching us because our surprise was not remotely hidden when they started to sing.  It didn't help that Rob and I both had our mouths hanging open and we kept looking at each other in mutual surprise.

After church, we changed clothes, fixed a hot lunch at the motel and checked out.  We drove to a Brisbane scenic overlook that looked out over this amazing city - green and lush with a beautiful river snaking through it.  We walked through the Botanical gardens near downtown Brisbane - right on the river's banks.  Nate tried out his boomerang in a huge field and Tanner was able to get it to arc back towards them, though not get it to come spot-on back to him.

We drove to the airport, dropped off our (not so new looking) van (now with nearly 2000 km on it) and headed to Christchurch.  Customs in Christchurch didn't give us any trouble about the diggerydoo, but disapproved of our honey, so after yielding it up, we moved on.  For some reason, dozens of people were sleeping on the floor in the airport.  Maybe it was because their flights came in late (like ours did - after midnight NZ time) and since virtually nothing is open in NZ after 8 pm, slept on the floor in the airport.  One elderly couple were sound asleep in an embrace on the hard, airport floor.  We made our way out to our little toyota van and were reminded that NZ was experiencing some autumnal changes before we had left - it was cold and dry. The differences between Australia and NZ were immediately apparent.  It was a bit surprising, really, how quickly we had acclimated to the city, the motorways, the hustle and bustle and the warmth - though we had really stuck to the more populated coastal areas, exploring little of Australia's hinterland.  We drove in the dark - on fairly empty roads -   past the miles and miles of green hedges, the safe, quiet, small rural towns, the sheep, the single lane bridges and back to our little house in Timaru.  I was also reminded on our drive "home" of how much I've come to love NZ - our home away from home, and really drove home for me how hard it is going to be to leave here in just 2-1/2 short months.   I have begun to think in terms of when I will be back here as I can't bear to think it will be never.

Hanmer Springs, Lewis Pass, northern South Island, Abel Tasman Track

Our last hike – the Abel Tasman – is now behind us.  I guess it was somewhat bittersweet  (though the kids would certainly claim almost entirely sweet) to have these amazing hikes over. 

We left on Monday morning – the kids didn’t bother going to school.  We drove to Hanmer Springs by way of Christchurch stopping to run a couple of Christchurch errands.  Hanmer Springs is in a gorgeous little valley.  It boasts (as the name suggests) hot springs.  We checked into the holiday park and changed into swimsuits.  We went downtown and swam (the kids swam, Rob and I lounged) in the various pools (they are separated and are various degrees of heat).  After getting nice and sulphury (and toasty), we ate at the holiday park and slumbered.

We drove to Nelson to check in for the hike then on to Motueka and prepared (obviously not perfectly) for our hike.  This is when Rob typically reads the entire DOC booklet that we receive when we check-in.  As “seasoned” hikers, however, we felt like we had things pretty well in hand (case in point, we packed in about an hour for this hike versus about 4 days prep for the first one).  The day before the hike, I felt sort of – not well.  The night before the hike (after the stores were closed) I felt that tell-tale tickle/pain in my throat that foretells impending doom.  The next day was not too bad.  We endured a super-windy bus ride to Kaiteriteri where we took a water taxi to Bark Bay where we began our hike.  

It was here (after being abandoned by our water taxi) that we learned that we had no way to cook any of our food.  Incidentally, we had even more food to cook this time than originally planned in an effort to meet some scouting requirements that necessitated cooking (and Rob had his butterfly propane stove in the car – at the holiday park).  This “advanced warning” gave us 4 hours of hiking to contemplate our situation.  We hiked through beautiful countryside.  We hit a gorgeous beach about every 45 minutes or so.  The trail wasn’t too arduous and the sun was shining.  It really was a spectacular day for enjoying the beach – and the beach scenery.  The coastline was beautiful and the bush was surprisingly lush (it is easier to understand the green surroundings when it is raining on you, not when the ground is dusty and the day is hot and sunny). 

Our first hut was in Awaroa.  We arrived around low tide – an important detail since the hut is at the back end of a huge estuary – more like an inlet.  When we arrived, we were able to walk up to the hut (through the muddy estuary) without a problem.  The boys even had time to go out to the beach to swim some more (we had stopped and let the kids swim and crab hunt at Onetehuti beach on the way).  Right after swimming, they saw a sting ray flapping his wings (stuck) in a tide pool. Then, they looked back into the place where they had been swimming, and saw 4 or 5 sting rays “flying” around in the waters they had just left.  Yikes!  Thankfully, it was just exciting and no one was hurt.  They came back before the tide did.  By the way, in Awaroa, there are many homes and a super fancy lodge complete with a super fancy restaurant.  This was tempting given our dismal food situation, but between our appearance and our pocket book, we decided it wasn’t really for us.  We ate cold burritos and cookies.  By now, my cold was taking on a few more symptoms like watery eyes, congestion, and a runny nose.  Ben and Garrett also took on runny noses.  I dragged my mattress into the dining area and slept away from the rest of the trampers in an effort to not get them sick, too.  This particular hut really encouraged togetherness in the sleeping arrangements – four giant bunks slept forty campers side by side like sardines in little bunk rooms.   We had to get up at 5:30 am in order to cross the estuary by 6:30 (low tide on this day was at 4:30am). 

By the time we reached Totaranui (about 1-1/2 hours of hiking), I had those classic sinusitis symptoms – sensitivity to light (not great for a sunny, beach hike), fatigue, dizziness, congestion, runny nose, the feeling that your eyes might be bleeding and that your head is possibly going to explode  - you know, the full –on “let me lay down and die” type of head cold (but when you do lay down, your head hurts worse and you can’t breath through your nose). So, the boys swam at the beautiful Totaranui beach for 4 hours while I slept under a tree (Ben took a short nap, too).  Rob and Nate made macaroni and cheese and breakfast burritos (in aforementioned rare fire pits).  

The whole hike was a little bit harder psychologically for us to handle (the boys especially) because there were (to this point) many opportunities to arrive (or depart) by boat (or in the case of Totaranui, by car).  The idea that we were hiking into an area that we could have driven to (or boated to) made it a little less fun – less special.  Psychologically, the idea that we could hop on a boat and go back to “the easy life” also was a bit of a challenge.  Well, despite feeling pretty crummy, I didn’t want to miss out on the only true wilderness part of the hike (no water taxis allowed beyond Totaranui and no road access until we reached Wainui Bay), and I didn’t want our NZ hiking extravaganza to end on a sour note, so (rested and loaded up on ibuprofen – the only medication we had with us) we trudged on.  In the bush, in the shade, Ben was fine, but when we trekked across the beaches, the sun hurt his eyes .  I usually put on my sunglasses and led him (eyes shut) across the beaches.  It was worth our efforts.  This last portion of the hike felt like a gorgeous, desert island.

The last hut was a quaint, charming, converted farmhouse at Whariwharangi (pronounced far-ee-far-an-gee).  We had our own bunkroom (making up half of all the trampers there).  There was no lighting at this hut and so we went to bed with the sun at 9:30.  We woke up at 8:30 and had to hustle to get on the trail by 9:30 (we had about 1-1/2 hours to hike and the bus was scheduled to arrive at 11:20).  We made it with a couple of minutes to spare.  The bus took us back to our car in Motueka.  We decided to try to get home that night.  Rob did some marathon driving to get us to the only buffet style place we know of here (in Christchurch) before they closed.  We made it in the knick of time, stuffed ourselves sick (for some of us this was more literal than for others), then drove the final 2 hours home, happy to sleep in our own beds.  

IMG_5235.JPG

IMG_5233.JPG

IMG_5219.JPG

Grandpa and Grammy visit

We really had a great time having Mom and Dad here though it felt a little funny - like we had two previously exclusive worlds colliding (anyone remember that Seinfeld episode?).  For a couple of days, it was as though I couldn't really remember how to host or what I had planned for them to do - it was as though my brain couldn't process the incongruity of family/company in NZ.  They were patient and pretended like everything was fun, though.  We spent the first 2 days visiting all things Timaru - the kids' schools, Caroline Bay, the art gallery, Centennial Park, Dashing Rocks, etc.  We also had to give them a taste (for better or worse) of all things kiwi.  Better:  our trip to Oamaru to see the Yellow-Eyed Penguins and Moeraki Boulders, every flavor of kiwi ice cream we could inhale in only a week, the chocolate bomb muffins from Couplands, the Milford Sound, sheep, sheep and more sheep, countryside, old buildings, botanical gardens, holiday parks, Cadbury chocolate, and timtams (chocolate covered, chocolate (or mint or orange or raspberry) filled, chocolate cookies - YUM) - was there an overwhelming chocolate theme here?  Worse:  mince pies (mince here means ground beef - sometimes with mutton mixed in), pavlova  - a sort of meringue cake (sorry Aussies and Kiwis, but it really isn't very good), driving on the left, expensive gas, food, etc., didymo ( a freshwater algae that has gone berserk in the local rivers), and poor customer service.  

IMG_4596.JPG

Dad arranged for us to all go fishing in a local river.  He brought it up with one of the boys (maybe not completely serious) a few weeks before they were scheduled to arrive, and the boys hung their every hope on that fishing trip.  We bought some fishing rods and drove out to the Waitaki river (about 30 minutes south of Timaru).  We found a decent fishing spot where the trout were jumping out of the water to catch the bugs.  Unfortunately, they didn't much care for the lures and worms we had (mom dug up a whole worm village for the kids to use).  New Zealand supposedly has world-class trout fishing and the salmon were supposed to be running this time of year as well - closer to the mouth of the river.  The salmon (the fishing store guy said) were averaging 20 lbs each.  We didn't even attempt the mouth of the river.  Anyhow, after moving to a faster moving bend in the river and enjoying a spot of lunch, Ben landed a little trout - about 6 inches.  It was a mystery how he caught it.  He reeled it in and hollered that he had caught a fish, but the fish was flopping around on the ground (and then in Ben's hands) free of any hook.  In fact, the lure/bait seemed untouched.  PERFECT.  He was able to get a picture with it and then throw it back - no guilt.  All pros, no cons.  Can you feel the foreshadowing?

So, let's set this up - my kids have done very little fishing (or hunting).  I took them a few times when they were very young.  On one of these occasions, we caught a little trout at Christopher Creek, gutted it and fried it up.  We ate as much as we could collectively stomach (only about an 8 inch fish) and fed the rest to a little dog at the campground.  We don't tend to eat seafood - none of us care for it much, so we have sort of figured that fishing as a sport (if we didn't eat it afterwards) was a little bit cruel.
ANYHOW, back to the Waitaki - Dad and Rob spent almost all of their time untangling fishing line (patience of Job) - a job which I acquired after Ben caught a fish and let Grandpa use his rod (and Rob took to drawing/painting the river and our surroundings - which, incidentally is quite good).  Dad wandered up river to presumably find a better fishing spot  - I'm sure that the noise, splashing and general chaos had nothing to do with it - and the rest of the kids kept on casting, reeling in.  Garrett hollered that Nate had something, but Mom and I kept at the fishing line we were working on until it was truly clear that he did, indeed, have a whopper on his line.  We got over to his spot just as he landed it on the ground.  We yelled for Grandpa, but he was far enough away that the immediate moment required our dubious skills.  Nate was freaking out, "I've killed it, I've killed it!" and Garrett was hollering, "It is suffering!"  Ben was intrigued with every moment of the event and was very factual and reasonable about it all.  The brown trout was about 18 inches long and pretty heavy.  I knocked it out on a rock which calmed Garrett, but Nathan was beside himself with grief and guilt.  He threw himself on our picnic blanket muttering, "I killed it.  I killed it."  Alternating with , "He looked at me."  Grandpa and Tanner got back in time for the aftermath and a philosophical discussion about killing wild animals as well as a story about killing (and eating) the rabbits that Dad raised in his youth.  This helped.  Just an aside, Mom and I were cracking up at the chaos that erupted over the mere catching of a fish.  Between outbursts of laughter, I was alternately pleased with evidence of Nathan's conscience/moral integrity and annoyed with his over-reaction to something as basic as catching a fish.  I did think to ask him, "What did you think was going to happen?"  He replied, "I was just having fun casting." 

IMG_4798.JPG

We fished for a little while longer - hoping that Tan and Garrett would be able to catch a couple, but as we lost lures, we lost any hope of that.  We drove to Oamaru, got a few more lures, visited the nearby penguins and then the Moeraki Boulders, stopped for fish and chips (Blue Cod in Hampden), and then stopped to fish in the ocean.  We lost the new lures and drove home after dark (10pm-ish).  It was a really great day. 

IMG_4814.JPG

Anyhow, those of you that are familiar with Mom and Dad's vacation karma will not be surprised to hear that it was sunny every day that they were here.  When we traveled down to Milford Sound, we stayed at a holiday park in Te Anau the night before.  It rained that night - complete with rainbow -  and we were blessed with beautiful clouds and extra waterfalls as we traveled through Fiordland National Park.

Catlins, Southland, Milford Track, Milford Sound

We headed south, stopping only briefly in Dunedin, and then on to the Catlins.  Rob had been told by someone at work that they had great waterfalls and that it was a great NZ secret.  We stopped and hiked to a couple of these waterfalls, but the boys were unimpressed - perhaps because it was raining, perhaps because just 2 weeks ago, we saw dozens of waterfalls much more grand while on the Routeburn track.  We reached our "campground" about 6:30 or so ready to cook our tinfoil dinners and set up our tents.  The campground was right on Curio Bay and had a beautiful view of the bay (with a pod of dolphins) and a coastline dramatised by rocky cliffs and crashing waves.  The campground was not, however, a well kept secret.  Despite huge stretches of dirt roads to get there, and the assurances beforehand that they "never fill up" (for tents), they were wall to wall RVs.  It was true enough that there was "no need for a reservation."  That was because after paying our camping fee, they simply said set up your tent anywhere you want.  No kidding.  There were no camping "sites" as such - just find a spot - wherever, and just throw up your tent.  There were no picnic tables and the lady looked at us like we were insane when we asked about fire pits or starting a fire (absolutely not).   The allure of tent camping faded fast for the boys without the potential for fire, so we boiled some hot dogs (on top of Rob's butterfly propane stove) and ate in the car - headed for Invercargill.

Monday morning we went to the ferry for Stewart Island.  This ferry crossing is well known for making the seasoned sailor seasick so I was skeptical that Rob would actually go for it, but he surprised me.  When we were discussing the trip, Rob asked Ben how he felt about it (as Ben is a fellow carsick sufferer) and Ben said, "I want to go!  I'll just throw up over the side of the boat."  Those of you who were co-vomiters on the Alldredge Oregon deep sea fishing expedition of 1993 might recall Rob's vomit extravaganza.  As he had promised himself he wouldn't go through that again, I expected him to stick to shore.  ANYHOW, between his scottish-ness (desire not to spend money), his fear of flying (costs were 3X as much to fly there), his faith in "Sea Legs" (the NZ version of Dramamine), and his desire to have an adventure with his kids, he decided to give it a try.  Hooray!  We all made it safely across (breakfast intact) despite a stormy, rainy day.  Apparently, 'seen one rainforest, seen them all'.  Maybe you have to be an avid ornithologist and take the cruise to Ulva Island - the bird sanctuary, free of predators to truly appreciate Stewart Island.  However, we aren't bird watchers and the intermittent rain and unrelenting wind didn't inspire the boys, so even though we tried to enjoy the day, after a few short hikes (sporting the much despised yellow ponchos) and lunch at the lone grocery store,  I think we were all fairly relieved to get back on the boat to head back to Invercargill.  

IMG_4491.JPG

Maybe the Sealegs had a drowsiness warning because everyone pretty well slept through the ferry ride back (including Rob) and Rob (who had taken twice the recommended daily dosage) was in no condition to drive once we were back on the 'mainland.' Consequently, I became the designated driver as we headed towards our next planned campsite.  Everyone conked out and so I enjoyed a quiet drive through some beautiful NZ countryside and coastal towns.  Unfortunately, in an effort to maintain the status quo (quiet), I unwittingly passed up the last gas station before Te Anau (we were to camp 40K before this and a town on the map was actually just a bridge - clearly without a gas station).  As a result, instead of taking the turnoff to the "campground" we had to pray the gas left in the tank would bring us into Manapouri.  With the tank on empty, we were rejected by the young man closing up the town's only gas station at 7 p.m. (no "pay at the pump" services here in NZ).  We decided to push our luck to Te Anau and the Lord decided not to teach us the preparedness/procrastination lesson the extra-hard way and so we made it.  After getting gas, we asked at the "camping store" as well as the tourism outlet where the nearest campground was that allowed campfires.  After twenty question from  each individual trying to ascertain what, precisely, we could possibly mean by a campfire (BBQ?  Stove?  Propane?...) they all said that there is a fire ban on all of Southland (a little insane to AZ campers given the amount of rain we'd slogged through in just the past 3 days, but, there it is)  and that (besides) they had never seen a campground with a fire ring/structure/thing that you could build a fire in.  Only one person (who was ancient, incidentally) even knew what I was talking about.  So, no fire, no tents - again.

Since Te Anau was pretty much full and Manapouri was only 10 minutes away (and with spectacular views of the lake), we drove back to Manapouri and stayed in a dilapidated holiday park (the kids kept trying to guess the decade of the decor).
Tues., we stayed in Te Anau and prepared for the hike.  We stayed in a holiday park and got a decent night's rest before the 'the big day'.

Wed. morning, we made some quick breakfast, re-inventoried our packs, strapped them on, and walked downtown to be picked up by the bus which drove us to the boat which floated us through a gorgeous lake to the trailhead for the Milford track.  

The first day's tramping was only 1 1/2 hours and was flat and wide.  The trees were dripping in moss and we arrived at the first hut with gobs of time to spare - too much time.  

IMG_4542.JPG

While the boys were 4 of a slew of children on the Routeburn, they were the only ones on the Milford - the only other person approximating a child being  a 16 year old giant kid from Auckland.  Anyhow, we explored the swimming holes at the river (or more accurately, the boys did) and got intimately familiar with the dreaded NZ sandfly (NZ's safer, more environmentally friendly, more politically-correct version of the blood-sucking mosquito).  We virtually bathed in DEET and then tried to minimize the boys' visibility/volume with cards (hide and seek), then finally dinner.
The rain started around 10pm and was unrelenting and voluminous all night.  The river where the boys were swimming the day before swelled over its banks and flooded the track.  We were held at the hut by the hut ranger until the rain let up enough for him to deem the trail safe enough.  This was around 10 am.  It was no longer pouring rain, but it was still drizzling, so we donned the yellow ponchos and set off. 

This was a long, though not difficult day of hiking - a little over 10 miles.  The interesting thing about these boys is that the older two can hike up a storm.  Garrett likes to keep up with them (when they are on their own), but they all hike better when the trail is tough.  They are like trucks - not semis, but a good, solid, full size pickup trick - maybe a Ford F250.  It isn't a super speedy vehicle about town (though it can keep up), but uphill, when everyone is hauling a load, they pass everyone up like they are standing still.  Everyone else slows to a crawl while the truck's engine kicks in and its pace is unaffected.  Anyhow, with a nice, wide, gravelled trail, Garrett gets bored and Ben gets easily distracted.  Botany might be a future career option for the boy.  Every fern is different and interesting to him.  To his credit, he spotted a fairly rare NZ orchid (which I only recognized as such because of a video we watched at the Stewart Island information center a few days before).  He seems to appreciate (and notice) the view more than the other boys and helps me (OFTEN) remember to "stop and smell the flowers" (sometimes literally).  

The views - through the rainforest canopy and when we were in the open meadows - were incredible.  The sun came out at noon and the mountain rose above us at seemingly right angles - on either side - as we meandered through this very narrow valley following the river.  The mountains had hundred of waterfalls from the  night's torrential rains (105cm - a little over 4 inches -  in less than 12 hours) and enhanced the permanent ones.  It would have inspired walking looking up all the time if the fear of sprained ankles didn't prevail.  There were several places where the track was flooded which afforded the kids the opportunity to get good and wet as they tramped through knee deep water - unfazed (past the Japanese guided tourists who were gently picking their way through).

And I guess that brings us to day three of the hike.  Day 3 is notoriously wicked - wicked awesome, but devilishly difficult.  For the boys (relishing a challenge), more of the former.  We started out at the base of the valley, climbed to McKinnon pass, then descended to the bottom of the next valley.  It should be noted, however, that the pass itself was no small feat.  On the way up we found ourselves hiking at a similar pace with a guided group.  We came across a group (5 or 6) of Kaka's that were playing in a tree very near the trail.  The guide was beside himself with glee.  The group was snapping photos and we all watched them play for a few minutes before they flew off.  The guide explained that a Kaka (a cousin to the prolific and troublesome Kea) sighting is extremely rare as there are very few left in the wild.  It is a large NZ bush parrot with bright red under its wings.  The guide just kept telling us how lucky we are and how rare it is - he has never seen them in the wild before quite like that.  

IMG_4632.JPG

At the top of the pass, you could see into both valleys.  The mountains were like huge monoliths and continued as far as the eye could see. The wind whipping over the pass was fierce - both cold and powerfully strong.  The hut that sits atop the pass (we stopped here to eat our cold burritos and take a break from the wind) has blown off the mountaintop 3 times.  On the wall of the hut were these two sayings which seem to describe "the Pass" much better than I could:
"The world hurtles up from the valley below and sweeps over this narrow pass."
"Here is a complete change from the Bush.  The bare rocks, bare air, bare light all give the place a look of nakedness that is destitution, an effect of freedom almost savage.  Yet at the same time, something else pervades it with a delicious, intimate charm - its wealth of alpine flowers." - 1908

In truth, the Pass was perhaps the highlight of the entire hike.  Here above the treeline, with sweeping views as far as the eye could see; the shocking beauty of the landscape; and the scale and scope of the mountains,  your  physical insignificance in this world and the divinity of a creator  are simultaneously defined.  Another great "moment."
The hike down the other side into the next valley was nothing short of a brutal exercise in torture to those of us with "sensitive" knees.  It was a descent of about 1100 metres.  It was beautiful with the waterfalls (why does "Fantasy Island" keep coming to mind? ) and bush scenery (we descended below the treeline again fairly quickly.  At the bottom of the valley, we took a side hike to Sutherland falls (sans backpacks) - the highest waterfall in New Zealand (over 500 metres - about a third of a mile high).  Along the way, we spotted 4 weka (a NZ flightless bird).  At the falls (spectacular probably goes without saying), we all (except Ben who eagerly volunteered to stay back with the camera) pressed ourselves against the cliff and pulled our way along it until we were behind the falls - utterly drenched but alive.  It was exhilarating.  After picking up our packs at the day shelter and enjoying a cup of hot cocoa, we hiked the last hour to the Dumpling Hut where my 4 little 'billy goats gruff' threw on their swimsuits and ran down to the river for a swim (after 7 1/2 hours of vigorous hiking)!  I fixed dinner and after the hut ranger gave his evening talk and Rob read his nightly installment of the Lord of the Rings to the boys,  we happily threw ourselves into bed despite the sun's non-compliance about our proposed bedtime (9:30ish).

The last day of our hike was just under 12 miles.  Though the brochure suggested that this last day was primarily flat, I must disagree.  It wasn't like the switch-backs over the pass, but the trail that followed the river out to the Milford Sound was anything but flat (with the exception of the last 1.5 miles).  Anyhow, psychologically, it was a mental endurance thing for Garrett and Ben to plod along on this last day.    Their attention span for just walking the trail seemed to have bottomed out after the first 3 hours of hiking.  Clearly, their problem wasn't energy as they entertained themselves with sword fights (with fern fronds), throwing things or chasing each other.    Most of the day was in the Bush - shady other than the light filtering through the canopy.  The breaks in the trees afforded spectacular views of the bowl of mountains we seemed to be trudging through.   At times, the trail was along raised platforms - sometimes for 100 metres or more high above the forest floor - an interesting view as we shared face time with the trees.  Despite the amazing scenery, admittedly, Rob and I were also happy to see the Sandfly Point hut signifying the completion of the hike.
The boat picked us up and dropped us across the Milford Sound where we picked up our bus connection.  Incidentally, Milford Sound (a NZ icon) was spectacular - Mitre Peak and all that - how many ways can you say "holy cow" that is gorgeous?  

Our bus driver was a trainee.  The great thing about that was that his pace back to Te Anau was approximately 20 mph - all the more time to stare out the windows at the endless wonder of Fiordland National Park.  The downside was that his braking and shifting didn't do Ben's carsick-able stomach any favors.  Luckily, he (and all of the other boys collapsed into a heap of exhaustion and slept before any real damage could be done.

IMG_4782.JPG

 The Milford Track  was such an anticipated event, that it feels strange to have it behind us.  I suppose that is how this whole NZ thing will feel after we get back to the US - like we imagined it.

West Coast, Queenstown, Routeburn Track

Christmas was .... different this year.  Besides being in a foreign country, we celebrated it  on a different day.  We sort of pretended to have Christmas on Friday, December 21st - at least the opening presents part.  We saved the Christmas Eve traditions for the actual Christmas eve, but on the 21st, we had the lounge opening papered up and waiting for the boys to break through and open presents.  It was a nice day, though it ceased to feel like Christmas fairly quickly as the backpacking preparations (and vacation prep) ensued.

On Saturday, December 22nd, we packed up our backpacks and hiking gear and drove over Arthur's Pass to the West Coast of the south island.  We had heard too many reports of this scenic drive.  It was super curvy but the road didn't climb up and down as much as the drive from Mesa to Payson.  It resembled some of the drives through the canyons in Utah.  Ben managed to projectile vomit all over the car windows and door before we wound our way to the coast.  After cleaning things up and taking a nice little break along a pretty river, we were on our way.  The closer we got to the west coast, the greener things got.  The hills and valleys were green and lush.  We stopped for a little break at an elementary school near a beautiful lake, Lake Brunner.  The elementary school was in an incredibly scenic locale - perched on a hill overlooking the lake.  The school grounds were about the size of two rugby fields.  The school buildings and the very efficient playground were on one half of the property and the other half of the property was, of course, a rugby field.  The great thing about this field is that it was pretty a much a monument to NZ's passion for rugby.  The field itself was uneven and the posts at the ends were made of rusty plumbing  pipes and looked to be home made.  We enjoyed a few minutes in the sun - me reading a book while the boys played on the playground then foursquare.

The coast was gorgeous!  The road wound its way on the edge of the coast, sometimes jutting out from the edge of the mountains.  We stayed the night in Punakaki after looking at the pancake rocks and letting the kids play at the beach.  The waves were enormous and the boys enjoyed getting wiped out by them.  Rob got eaten up by the sand flies - the bites torturing him for the remainder of our trip.

The next day, Sunday, we drove south down the coast to church in Greymouth.  We were 6 of about 25 or 30 in attendance (6 of which were missionaries).   The boys played soccer behind the building with the other kids afterwards.

IMGP1712.JPG

We drove south down the coast and stayed in Franz-Joseph.  We went and looked at the glacier there and saw several Kea.  The kea is an alpine parrot.  They are grey with orange under their wings.  Apparently they torment tourists by eating the rubber off of their cars.  We didn't stick around long enough to witness any damage.  It started raining not long after we arrived - not surprising as it is a rainforest.  It sure looked the part, too.  The trees were covered in moss and the bush was dense with ferns, brush, vines and trees.  The rain didn't let up much for the next 24 hours or so.  Unfortunately, this obstructed Rob's view of Mt. Cook from the west side.  He was particularly anxious about photographing it from Lake Matheson, but all we could see were clouds hanging onto the tops of the green, lush mountains closest to us.

The rain didn't keep us from hiking the Fox glacier on Monday morning.  Apparently, the odds are that it will rain.  They get a total of around 15 metres of rain a year on the glacier - that is over 500 inches.  I'm not sure how many of those inches fell on us, but it was wet and it was cold.  The company outfitted us with boots, rain gear and crampons.  We had to hike for about 1-1/2 hours to get to the glacier - most of it up (the guide said 500 steps - I'm not sure if he was counting the ones at knee height as one step or two).  At the glacier, we put on our crampons and hiked out onto the glacier.  Our guide was named Passang and was from Nepal (which provided Rob all sorts of untold satisfaction and glee).  He reminded us, somehow, of John A. - except from Nepal.  Anyhow, one of the benefits of hiking straight up for hours in the rain in boots that were surely used in the 1920s and then walking across an ice glacier (still in the rain) is this - the Routeburn hike would surely seem more pleasant by comparison.

We travelled south along the coast then across into Mt. Aspiring National park through Haast into Queenstown.  We had a rather hectic stop at the supermarket (where everyone else also was getting last minute groceries for Christmas) before ordering our traditional Christmas Eve pizza.  Upon reaching our holiday par, we pigged out and then watched tv.  The kids woke up to makeshift Christmas stockings which were primarily stuffed with lollies, chocolates and money.  We rode the gondola to check out the views of Queenstown and took the luge ride down - then repeated it again.  It was drizzly, but the views were still beautiful.  We walked around the downtown and found that it was comprised of souvenir shop after souvenir shop - occasionally interspersed with a restaurant or a greenstone shop.  After Ben spent as much as he could of his Christmas money, we had a reasonably good dinner back in our room before heading to bed.  The next day, the sun came out and we were able to enjoy our jet boat ride.  Queenstown is supposedly the thrill-seeking capital of the world. 

At 7:45, the bus picked us up to drive us to the start of the hike.  It was raining before we started and so we all donned our bright yellow ponchos and took into the bush with a little trepidation and a lot of excitement.  The rain never let up.  In fact, it was rather lucky that we started as early in the day as we did, because the rain actually seemed to pick up throughout the day.  The kids did really great - especially when we let them run ahead of us.  We were all rather soggy and cold by the time that we reached the Routeburn Falls hut - about 4 hours of hiking.  The trail had become, in many places, a stream that we hiked up (and up and up) through a dense rainforest.  There were many streams that we crossed, a couple of rope bridges, and heaps of flora and fauna (that Ben wanted to stop and examine continuously).  

The hut itself was pretty amazing.  It was perched just below the tree line on the edge of the mountain.  It faced the  most amazing views of this gorgeous valley, the routeburn river, and the mountains.  The hut had a kitchen/dining room area which had dining tables, sinks, gas stovetops, and a potbellied stove.  There was a drying rack hanging from the ceiling that quickly filled up with wet socks, jackets, pants, etc.  The hearth around the stove  - by late evening - had about 45 pairs of tramping shoes and boots around it.  The bunk rooms (2 of them) housed 24 people each - in bunk beds.  By 9pm, everyone was pretty well in bed and asleep.
There were a surprising number of youngsters on the hike.  Rob had been concerned about the kids on it, but there was a group there with 3 adults and 5 children between the ages of 6 and 9. 

IMG_4170.JPG

Day two of the hike was sunny and fantastic.  The scenery was absolutely breathtaking.  We hiked above the tree line and over the tops of the mountains (across the Harris Saddle) into Fiordland National Park.  From the Harris saddle, the Alps stretched out before us like something straight out of the Sound of Music.  I had to sing "Climb Every Mountain" for a few seconds - I felt like Julie Andrews - except for the great singing voice and if I had tried to throw my arms out and twirl around, I would have fallen off of a cliff.  At times, you could look down a stretch of these "Southern Alps" and get a glimpse of the Tasman Sea.  Incredible. 

We hiked to the MacKenzie Hut.  The accommodations were similar to the night before, but the surroundings were quite different.  This hut was a the base of a glacial valley overlooking a lake.  The kids were some of the very few crazy enough to brave the cold.  In fact, other than a 13 year old English kid who joined them, no one was able to get in past their knees.  I confess, I didn't even try.  I could blame it on the fact that I hadn't brought my swimming togs, but the fact is, one finger in that water was enough to convince me that the pathway back to personal warmth would require more than I was willing to sacrifice.  I overheard one man (in his attempt to get in) say, "You would think that you would start adjusting to the water, but it just seems to get colder and colder.  It is like needles all over my legs!"  The boys went hard at it for about 30 minutes before coming out with teeth chattering and shivering like crazy.  Rob overheard a man say (as they were discussing the lake)," Yes, well they are Americans, and it is cold in America."  Rob didn't correct them.

Clive was our hut ranger and he gave us an excellent run down of the area.  He was pretty hilarious.   He informed us that the park, there, gets 12 metres of rain a year and has precipitation 220+ days of the year.  After that, we felt downright lucky to have had only one day of rain on our hike.  Unfortunately, we didn't get as good of rest that night because, thanks to the excellent acoustics in our bunk room, we could hear the man in the corner snoring with deafening clarity. This only further insured one of the best night's sleep -ever- upon completion of our hike.  As for that, we finished our hike the next day (good weather) and waited for the bus to pick us up from the shelter at the divide.

After being dropped off in Queenstown, we went out for big, decadent burgers.  

Waimate Strawberry Fare

We went to Waimate on Saturday for the Strawberry Fare (yes, they did spell it that way).  It was really great.  Talk about stepping back in time - there was a bunch of tents/booths set up all around the town square.  The town square has a huge gazebo (think Pollyanna) that had a crooner in a bowler hat singing much of the afternoon (again with the Pollyanna imagery).  There were strawberries for sale everywhere as well as strawberry sundaes. 

Many of the booths had other things for sale, too, though.  Things from local honey or strawberry crepes to clothes or raw wool.  It was fun to walk around.  There was a portable stage at one end with some serious country music playing complete with a fiddler, a banjo player and a bass player.  One very modern touch - stands of "Free sunscreen". There were sunscreen pumps set up all around the fair - encouraging people to slather it on.  I must say that people here seem to take their sunscreen far more seriously than anything I have experienced before - even coming from the "Valley of the Sun." Our friend it is because the hole in the ozone is over Central Otago (NZ South Island not far from here).  Anyhow, back to the fair:  Despite the amazing old fashioned entertainment and shops to sift through, the kids' favorite thing (surprise, surprise) was one of the rides - a bungy jumping ride where you are attached at the waist by a harness and you jump on a trampoline super high assisted by the bungy ropes that connect your harness to the structure.  I guess that they had experienced this once before with grammy and grandpa at the highland games (Rob and I were out of town).  Nathan managed to get in a triple back flip just before his turn ended.  Tanner and Garrett were able to do flips, too, but Ben just enjoyed jumping. 

After the fair, we went to the house of a branch member that lives in town.   She guided us out to whithorse (pronounced "white horse") monument.  It is basically a concrete outline of a horse up on the nearest hill to Waimate.  It is meant to be a monument in memorial to all of the draft ("draught") horses that helped the farmers clear and farm the canterbury plains.  The views from the monument were spectacular.  This scene (including the mountains, though) is likely my favorite in all of New Zealand.  There is something so picturesque about the drama of the mountains ending abruptly at the edge of these patchwork plains that sweep out to the ocean.  The farmland here is so beautiful.  Perhaps it is the variety of color or the symbolism of the hard-work and industry of the farmer that appeals to me... I'm not sure, but the way that the farmers have lined their sections with tall trees or hedges (to help protect their lands from the winds I recently learned) adds to the precision and definition of their farms that puzzle across the plains and run up the entire Canterbury coastline.  Anyhow, after that we went for a little short hike up Kelsey's bush for a few minutes then went back for a true kiwi BBQ with heaps of sausages, strawberries, and salads.

Mt Cook (Aoraki) hike

Saturday we drove out to Mt. Cook (Rob has put this off a half dozen times wanting a guarantee that it would be good visibility).  We had been to the scenic spot across the lake from it and taken pics, etc., but now we drove the road out to the Hermitage at the Mt. Cook village and took a trail that gave us some closer views of it.  It was nice and warm and gave us all funny sunburns in the places that we missed with sunscreen, but was a terrific day.  The scenery out to this village is gorgeous.  I especially love the drive from Timaru to Lake Tekapo.  It is green and pastoral and tranquil.  The area right around Mt. Cook is sort of surreal.  The lake is cloudy and milky as is the river running from it (naturally).  The landscape is grassy in places with beautiful alpine flowers, then spiky cactus looking plants, then big stretches of nothing but rock.  The hike itself (Hooker Valley) was pretty easy.  They groom the trails here such that you could practically walk in with a wheelchair (not quite).  They even build up long stretches of the trail - above the grasslands - with wood - like a wooden yellow brick road.  It is interesting.  I'm not sure of its purpose and I wonder how long it could last.  There were also a few bridges - two of them quite large and suspended over the glacial river flowing away from the glacial lake immediately below mt. cook (being fed by the glaciers of mt. cook).  As we were quite warm, it was strange to be sitting at a glacial lake looking at a gorgeous mountain covered in snow. 

After the hike, we ate at a greasy joint in Tekapo on the way home.  It turned overcast again as we headed towards the coast, but as it has been a few months since we had traveled this road, the scenery was new and strikingly green.  There are sheep paddocks all through the rolling hills, and trees lining the roads for much of the trip.  The drizzly wet over the rolling hills reminded us of England and we were awed by New Zealand's amazing diversity.

IMGP1545.JPG

Good summer weather for athletics, beach, boats

The kids spent a day last week (for school) at a fairly nice local track for "Athletics Day" (what we would term track and field day).  I went to help and wound up at the Long Jump.  The day was fairly well organized, though I couldn't figure out why the kids needed so much down time between each event or why the whole thing should have taken the whole day.  Oh well.  It was a toasty day and the kids were slathered up with sunscreen and most of the kids remembered to wear their sun hats, too.  Many of the kids ran their events barefoot - even Nate on the 200m.  I'm not sure what that is all about, but it was very un-American and very Chariots of Fire, so I just enjoyed the observation. 

IMG_3830.JPG

Because the weather was so warm last week, we went to the beach.  It was more full than I've ever seen it.  Tanner, Nate, Garrett and I swam for a while while Ben did a little beachcombing.  Then, we played a little baseball on the beach and went home.  I will likely never live this close to a beach again.  It is pretty nice, I must say.  There is no production involved - not even a car.  Just cross the street and enjoy.  Tanner, in particular, would like to be at the beach every day.

IMG_3849.JPG

Nate's class went sailing in Caroline Bay the other day.  He quite liked it.  The schools here are not afraid to take kids on cool activities.

IMG_3861.JPG

Garden

We have a couple of parts of the back yard that have nice soil and we have planted some vegetables therein.  Things grow readily here with the intermittent rain and otherwise nice, sunny weather.  The boys helped plant the garden and have shown some interest in it.  It seems that most residents of Timaru (and Canterbury in general) are gardeners to some degree with flowers, plants and vegetables at most homes.

Grasshopper

One of the boys' "latest favorites" is to play "grasshopper" - their own version of cricket.  The ball is pitched with a straight overhand pitch (like the reverse of a softball fast pitch) and bounces once in front of the batter before he hits it.  Cricket is a major sport here, whereas baseball is unheard of.  The boys' version (grasshopper), is a bit faster and adapted it to fitting into our front "garden".  I'm sure that the neighbors don't appreciate that their driveway is the outfield, but no one has complained outright, yet.  Kids don't play out in their yards, here.  I'm not sure what they are doing all day, but they aren't out playing in the cul-de-sac with friends.  It certainly makes us miss our Gentry Cir neighborhood all the more.  We really did have the perfect neighbors.  I have to pick my battles, and I'm choosing to let them play their rowdier games outside rather than in this house made of glass that doesn't belong to us.  If the neighbors have an issue with the "grasshopper" game, they will likely think twice about saying anything to Rob or I (or the kids, for that matter) after we played it all together for FHE last Monday for about an hour.