A long look at New Zealand's South Island

Berni K. Moestafa, Contributor, Jakarta

From what I knew, New Zealand was a walker's heaven. It is said to have some of the world's finest walking tracks, cutting through land that is pristine and blessed with diverse landscapes.

I was more than glad for a chance to visit, even if I did not expect much. When I finally arrived on New Zealand's South Island, it was with a guided tourist group, and the four days we had -- I knew this right away -- would never be enough.

We came to Christchurch, which is the gateway to the island, and with a population of over 300,000, the biggest city here.

English settlers founded Christchurch during the mid 19th century, making it the oldest city in New Zealand. It is now said to be the world's most English city outside of England. Hence the gorgeous 100-year old cathedral around which Christchurch was built, the Avon River and the many gardens that lend a piece of home to what is already a paradise-like settlement.

For all its charm, however, Christchurch was not our final destination. We were heading for Queenstown, some 470 kilometers down south.

We left Christchurch in the late afternoon and by the time we had reached the countryside, it was already dark. The hills were about the only things I could make out as the road curved its way around them.

There were few trees and even fewer signs of life, save for the occasional herds of sheep. The land had turned dry in this region.

The first establishments we saw after a while looking at barren landscapes were a gas station to the left side of the road and across it, a modest hotel where we spent our first night. More accommodation and houses flanked the road and yet the place was too small for a town.

At this remote place at night, the warm hotel lobby was a welcoming sight. We pampered ourselves in the homey comfort of rustically furniture and hearty meals.

Early next morning after breakfast I went outside. The hotel was indeed isolated, but it stood here for a good reason. A short walking distance away, the water of Lake Tekapo spread out under the gray morning sky with shores of grassy hills and the Southern Alps against its backdrop.

At its shore, the Church of the Good Shepherd, the size of a chapel, graced the desolate landscape with a touch of God's presence.

Unfortunately, we had to leave early. Queenstown was another 230 kilometers south, toward the middle of the island. The estimated travel time was about three hours, which gave me plenty of time to see more of the countryside.

To the west, the Southern Alps formed the horizon while a vast stretch of uneven grassland and hills marked the view to the East. Anyone who has watched the Lord of Rings should be familiar with this landscape, since it was featured prominently as the dwelling ground of the Rohirim horse riders in the second installment of the trilogy.

Because of the thin rainfall in this region, vegetation was sparse. Trees bushes and the grass were tinted in gold brown, the dominating color here. It was for the most part a barren land. Naked hills curved like a woman's back. The wind had free reign. There were leafless trees that looked like giant hands bursting through the earth. Others hunched together in groups too small for forests but enough to serve as wind breakers for a few houses we past.

Traffic was always few, the road in excellent condition, and narrow as if not to leave a scar on the face of nature.

New Zealand has many faces. It also is a subtropical forest with lush ferns and ancient old trees, or a strip of a perfect white beach, an underground world of moss draped caves; not just about mountains and lakes.

There is much to see for a country about twice the size of Java. One third of the land is protected and despite much untamed wilderness, the country is free of dangerous or poisonous animals.

All this amounts to a unique asset, from which the country benefits through a well developed tourism industry.

Queenstown is no exception. Built on the shore of Lake Wakatipu, the town was founded during the gold rush during the mid 19th century.

Today Queenstown has found its new gold rush in the tourism industry. The town resembles Bali's Kuta district, as it caters to the young, thrill seekers on the loose. It is called the capital city of adventure.

Here SUVs prowl the streets in their natural habitat, looking tough and ready. Hotels and apartments sprout along the hills, whenever possible facing Lake Wakatipu for excellent views.

We made our way through the lines of travel coaches, replacing other busloads of tourists as we arrived at Queenstown Bay. It was surrounded by cafes and restaurants. A bazaar offered Maori handicrafts and accessories.

But the center of attraction was the TSS Earnslaw, a 1912 built steamboat kept in its original condition. Called the Lady of the Lake, the vintage ship took us on a relaxing cruise across Lake Wakatipu to a sheep farm called Walter High.

The farm's main house looks to have sprung right out of a Walt Disney picture book, painted in white as it is with its red roof, the flowered front porch and the dark pine trees towering behind.

Farming is serious business in New Zealand. The dairy industry is the largest export earner in this country, accounting for about 20 percent of total exports. Meat is its second largest export.

The following day we departed for a 299-kilometer-long trip to Milford Sound in Fjordland. This one took us to the west coast, which was separated from the rest of the island by the Southern Alps. We passed Lake Te Anau south of Queenstown, then headed northwest for the mountains. The land turned greener again near the Alps, as it catches clouds coming from the Tasman Sea.

After about two hours the view opened up to the serene water of Milford Sound. Maori legend has it that the godly figure Tu Te Raki Whanoa created Milford Sound, carving out a fjord of sublime beauty.

Its bay is as wide as a lake with a glistening surface reflecting the sky. From the stillness of its water rises to the foreground the mountain Mitre Peak in an image of tranquility and majesty.

We took a cruise vessel to explore Milford's length through a 10-kilometer long mountain corridor leading to the ocean. Although we were told that bottlenose dolphins often entered the fjord, I did not expect to see them this close. They approached our vessel and raced below us underneath the bow, close enough to spot the white markings at the forehead and the white tipped nose of these graceful animals.

We had several short sightings and I found myself constantly on the lookout, camera always at hand. Seals are also among Milford Sound's regulars and we caught them sun bathing on an isolated rock.

As always, the trip was too short and it left me wanting to see more of the fjord's surrounding forests. Milford Track is one of New Zealand's eight famous walking tracks.

The fjord was really the highlight of our visit, which, unfortunately, also came to an end. Another night in Queenstown, and we had to return to Christchurch.

Hazy fog covered the land as we left Queenstown the next morning and the rugged landscape awakened to a primeval look. We traced back our route from Christchurch and passed through the same barren land, although this time the distance vanished into the fog.

I tried to enjoy the view while it lasted, imagining how it would be like walking there. It is a pity that only my eyes did most of the walking from behind the tinted glasses of a coach, but they wandered far and saw much.