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.