Skydive at Taupo

Travelling through New Zealand in May is definitely not the best time, reasons centrally revolving around inescapable facts such as it being winter and the weather being cloudy and cold. Except, we seemed to have had a halo of blue skies and sunshine follow our orange bus, and the drive from Rotorua to Taupo was no exception. Since the forecast was changeable, we were given hours to prepare for our skydive; a good thing instead of letting the anticipation build up too much - better to book and jump!

We were all kitted out with the blue jumpsuits, harnesses and of course an instructor complete with parachute, and we were off 12,000 feet above the gargantuan Lake Taupo, apparently the size of Singapore. The plane ride of fifteen minutes really gets the adrenaline going, but the most difficult part is looking over the edge of the plane's exit, seeing the Tasman Sea on one side, the Pacific on the other, and jumping out. After that, well it's all gravy - just try your best to take in the scenery and enjoy hurtling towards the ground at 200km/h. We all sat in the cinema room watching each others' videos and having a laugh at our weird phrases we came out with and silly facial expressions. What a day - if any of you are planning or are in New Zealand at the moment, don't leave this fantastic country without doing a skydive.

With a plane that size and rickety movements in the air, I was quite happy to jump out it to be honest.

All parachuted up and harnessed in we're ready to go. Of course don't forget to attach each other together, or the tandem skydive wouldn't be too tandem, and I'd be without a speed breaking device. Not too spicy for me.

The mean poses don't deter from the fact we've all got dirt on our arses, like Dave getting ungracefully into the plane.

Sonke, my instructor, steers the cloth and string to give us a smooth landing.

Cheers, Sonke!

We all had the jitters before going up there, and were glad to be back on the ground, but I remember wanting to go back up as soon as we'd touched down for another taste. We we're lovin' it.

Dodgy Dave and the Skydive Virgins.

Tongariro Crossing, Wellington and Sounds Air

The skydive had us all psyched up and worn out - it's incredible how adrenaline rushes can be so exhausting. So after a quiet night and an incredibly early morning, we arrived at the Tongariro National Park ready to take on the crossing, usually taking approximately six to seven hours. Dave, our bus driver, said we would be very happy to see the car park at the end of the trek with our transport waiting, and he wasn't wrong. But the time in between arriving there and our group photo at the beginning of the crossing was fantastic. I believe I am speaking for all of us when I say it was up there with the best of things to do in New Zealand. The volcanoes, craters, lakes and valleys conspired to offer some of the most imposing and breathtaking scenery one could hope to see, and walking through it was a great experience.

We had a night in Whakapapa at the Skotel. Unfortunately the dorms were full, so we had to be put in chalets with all the amenities for the same place. Shame, that. We were provided quarter for a well deserved and needed rest, before heading down to Wellington for the day.

It was too wet, windy and miserable to comment much on Wellington. After meeting a friend from Sheffield Uni (hey Trigg!) we went for a few drinks at the Basement Bar, leaving poorly Kelly to sleep, and have a bit of a spew. It's all good. Meanwhile, Fredi was sorting out the boys on the table football, good ball control and wrist action aiii.

We'd collectively decided to pop over the Cook Strait, the water crossing between the Islands, with the plane instead of the ferry. After a bit of weight shifting with the bags, and myself weighing in heaviest at 83kg, we were allowed to board and cross over the fiords of Marlborough on what was another fortunate blue-sky afternoon.

An early start and another blue sky day. Notice our energy emanating from the group, and then watch it deteriorate over the course of the next few hours and pictures.

One of New Zealand's many active volcanoes from the North Island.

Look at all the lemmings pay money to trek up a mountainside! I'll be up there with you lot shortly..

Sweaty..

..and hot.

We were glad to see the terrain levelling off as we reached the summit of Devil's Crater - a well earned rest we had by all.

Steve playing with his armpit, Dee looking like something out of the 'Go West' video - looking good peeps.

Joe, Kelly and Mount Doom. Nice.

After Devil's Staircase and its unrelenting incline, one realises that they are the same hight as the clouds as they come up from behind the volcano.

The sulfurous Emerald Lakes glistened turquoise in the sunlight. The track down was quite slippy; most of us either ran or slid down, it was a great part of the trek.

Pro hiker @ the Emerald Lakes. Thumbs up, kids!

Are we there yet? Five hours in and we're still going strong.

The others forgot that we were to wear our Skydive Taupo tshirts for a group photo. Obviously Dee and Kelly had their thinking caps on.

After the skydive in Taupo, my fear of small planes was dimminished. Thank God for that because the inside of that plane was small heh.

Here in New Zealand, we take security precautions seriously. This is why you are fully able to comandeer the aircraft should your pilot have had a little too much Coromandel Gold the evening before.

Steven got to sit in the co-pilot's seat, but thank goodness he wasn't at the controls. I reckon the girls would agree with me on that.

The beautiful Marlborough Sounds from our little Sounds Air plane!

The Stray Juggernaut makes light work of the Kiwi Experience bus - also fondly known as the Chlamydia Express.

Big rocks, little Kristin.

Abel Tasman National Park

After the scenic plane flight over the Marlborough Sounds from Wellington to Picton, we picked up the biggest Stray bus ever, dwarving the Kiwi Experience buses, and headed to Old Macdonald's Farm - yay. Most people had planned a walk through the National Park, but I decided to take a tour by boat of the place, so Kelly, Thomas and I got on the catamaran which took us to see some interesting landmarks such as Split Apple Rock and a couple of islands home to long gone Maori tribes.

On the way down to Barrytown we had a chance before daylight disappeared to check out the layered or 'pancake' rocks at Punakaiki; more weird rock formations to add to New Zealand's abundant collection.

Split Apple Rock, another weird rock formation famous in NZ.

After dropping us off in the Abel Tasman National Park, we said bye to the rest who were staying in the area for a few days.

Barrytown

Another reason to travel with Stray as opposed to the other tour operators - they come to Barrytown, also known as Baz Vegas. And what a place it is.

On arrival we threw our bags down in usual discarding fashion and headed to the pub for a lovely home cooked roast. God it was good to eat some proper food for once. The evening then turned in to a 'bad taste' party, involving dragging out old, infact archaic, clothes from behind the bar for us to don and mix up. We all looked goood.

After waking up and realising Steve had fallen alseep in his full bad taste attire (unsurprisingly I must add), we headed off to a little house to meet one hell of a character who showed us how to make knives. Starting with a rod of steel, plank of wood and blocks of brass, we ended up with a set of fantastic looking knives. The process started with us hammering in to shape the blade, cutting it off to size and grinding it down to reveal the stainless and shimmering material. We then carved out a handle, and spruced it up with the brass. And after hours of grinding, lots of intervention by the man himself, more grinding and polishing, we settled down to good toasties, NZ green and moonshine whilst we marvelled at each others' knives. It was a great day with a cool souvenir to take away and show your mates.

It was bye bye Baz Vegas and off down the rugged West Coast of the South Island to Franz Josef, complete with large glacier.

Steve is a mad Irishman, can you tell? Silly face + beer = mad Irishman.

The evening started off in the dorms in conservative fashion, only to transition into one of poor taste.

He's found another tea cosy!

Our first bus driver, Dodgy Dave, looking good in the apron. And I'm looking like an absolute tool.

There are rare occasions when Fredi doesn't have a beaming smile across her face. This isn't one of them.

I love the Grandma Kristin look. If only she had a cup of tea.

This is how we do it in Baz Vegas, bro.

Three lovely girls.

There's always one. Unfortunately, three dimensional visual depth cues are not easily brought out in pictures - believe me when I say my hand is a safe distance from his bum.

The attire changed over the course of the evening, trying to make ourselves look sillier. Steve (bottom left) definitely took the biscuit.

Irresistible.

You're all class, Dee.

Don't the lovely colours make us look great.

Another bad taste picture for a bad taste party.

A Northerner with a red hot steel rod. There's a German with one too. Careful kids, Kel and Fred could be dangerous with those.

Give it beans on that anvil! Kristin in the back was focused as usual, she knew exactly what she wanted.

Come on Dee, less talk and more work.

The world doesn't need medicine. If you're feeling ill, one of these would sort you right out.

Look it's Lumberjack Joe. Do I look like I know what I'm doing?

Matt likes sparks. Grind baby grind, disco inferno!

I'd be lying if I told you we did them all by ourselves. This quite brilliant man gave our knives that special touch with his skills and his banter, oh and his moonshine. Woosh.

The finished products - looking good. Mine's the second one, if you're interested.