17. South Island (Part 4) Franz Josef Town

I traveled to Franz Josef that morning, as it was rumored to have glaciers, and I wanted to see them for myself. I continued to use the country's bus service, booking online as usual, which is a very convenient and efficient service in a country with a small population.

 

When I arrived here, I was still looking for YHA accommodation as usual, because I feel that the rooms in this chain are clean and the locations are well-designed. However, not every location does well with the scenery. But when it comes to cleanliness and professionalism, I feel that the hotels in this chain have the same standard.

 

In this lovely little town, there are many exciting places (for me). For example, on the late afternoon of the day I arrived, I walked around with a bag containing a bottle of water, fruits like apples or oranges, and chocolate snacks, heading out to explore the town. What did I use for navigation? The answer is the signs I see along the way and my gut feeling.

 

That afternoon, I found a path leading into the forest behind the village. At first, I thought it was a short path for people to walk their dogs, but as I kept walking, the path gradually stretched out further and further. It was a gravel path wide enough for one car to pass, with a hill on the right and a large stream on the left, the sound of the water rushing clearly audible.

 

After walking for almost half an hour, I reached the end of the path. Here, I found a small tunnel, about two meters wide and two and a half meters high. Looking at the ground, I noticed iron train tracks. There was also shallow water, like a flood, about ankle-deep. But what was amazing was that when I looked inside, it was very dark. However, the desire to know what was inside was stronger, so I didn't hesitate any further. And since I was already wearing flip-flops, I didn't have to worry about wading through water. So, I started walking into the tunnel.

 

This tunnel is dark, very dark. I could barely see anything, but I felt excited with every step I took. The sound of water at my feet as I walked further enhanced the atmosphere. I took out my phone to shine a light and kept walking. My hands touched the cave walls, and I was amazed by the sights I had never seen before. After walking for a while, I started to see light coming from the other side of the tunnel. It felt really good, especially since I had been surrounded by darkness for a while even when I turned back. But now I felt a little relieved when I saw the light ahead, which reminded me of a song about hope that I had heard before, which talked about the light from the other side of the tunnel. Seeing that light might make anyone who has been in this tunnel feel more encouraged because at least we can sense its end.

But as I walked closer, almost reaching the exit, I saw something I never expected to see here. It was... no, it should be called "they" because there were so many glowing worms clinging to the tunnel walls. I quickly turned off my flashlight and they immediately became more prominent. But believe it or not, when I turned the light back on to get a closer look, they were just small worms with transparent bodies when viewed with the light. But the good thing about this is that I didn't have to spend money on a trip to see glowing worms in a cave, as many tour companies advertise in brochures at hotels. And I never imagined I would see them naturally here.

 

At the end of the tunnel, there was a wooden balcony extending from the forested hillside. I could hear the sound of water flowing from a large stream not far beyond the thick foliage. Even though my left thumb was hurting at the time, my adventurous spirit couldn't resist getting into trouble. I suddenly felt the urge to climb out onto the balcony and then carefully jump across the various rocks to see the stream, which looked like a waterfall at a thirty-degree angle (that's probably a better way to describe it).

 

The view beyond the trees was so tempting. After considering the rock layers and the wooden slats of the balcony that I would have to step on one by one, and after successfully assessing the jumping distance and the steps for both the outward and return journeys, all that was left was to start moving and slowly progress step by step. With caution in this seemingly risky activity, I finally found myself sitting near the waterfall, enjoying the surrounding scenery along with the thunderous sound of the water.

 

I had the opportunity to see a large, unusual bird. It looked similar to the pigeons or doves we have at home, but it was almost three times larger. I sat here for a while and felt good about the surrounding peace. Then I slowly climbed back to the balcony and walked out of the tunnel. This time, it didn't feel as scary as it did at first. Perhaps it was because we knew where it would end up. And so, the first day at Fox Glacier passed.

 

On the second day, I started my journey in the opposite direction from yesterday. The plan was nothing more than following the signs and my gut feeling that I should check it out. It's great that the road signs here also include an estimated travel time to the location indicated on the sign, so travelers can prepare.

 

When I travel along natural paths in my style, I don't usually carry much with me because of weight reasons. What I usually bring are food, water, a power bank for charging my phone, and maybe some fruit like apples. For me, it's a great dessert after a meal.

 

Today's highlight was Alex Knob. To be honest, I didn't research the history of this place beforehand. As far as I knew, I just noticed the signs indicating the directions and travel times. However, I usually factored in less time than what was stated on the signs because I figured the signs probably indicated the travel times for the average person who doesn't move very fast. So, the signs were added extra time for various scenarios. I also assumed that since I was alone traveling at my own pace, and my bags and belongings weren't heavy, I could probably cut the travel time by more than half an hour to an hour compared to what was stated on the signs. Based on my experience hiking on natural trails here in NZ, that's usually how it turns out.

 

The mountain I was climbing, if I were to speak from the perspective of an innocent child, I'd say everything looks amazing, both the plant species and the trees growing along the path. The root systems were visible on the ground because the trees were old; they might had been here for hundreds of years. You have to understand that trees born in this country are in a cold climate, which results in their growth cycle being twice as slow as trees in tropical regions like ours (Thailand). So, if we were to compare two trees of the same size, one planted in Thailand and the other here, you can be sure that trees here would be older. This is due to the difficulties caused by the weather conditions affecting their growth. In my personal opinion, the aforementioned reasons make me feel that the trees here are inherently magical.

 

The trail up this mountain gradually becomes steeper from the middle to the end. It was already three in the afternoon when I started climbing. As I was winding my way up around the mountain loops, I didn't feel like anyone was following me. On the contrary, I only saw people walking past me on their way down. Each of them was fully equipped. Some were coming down alone, others in pairs, but there were no groups larger than that. In this country, saying "Hi" to strangers you pass on the trail is considered normal. Some people were even surprised to see me using flip-flops to get to where they were walking past me. But as a down-to-earth kid like me, I sometimes feel that Westerners are sometimes too cautious.

 

By the time I reached the summit, it was already past five in the evening. It was certain that no one had followed me, which meant I was the last person to climb up here today. If I were to count the number of people I passed on the way up, it would be about seven. The surrounding scenery on the mountain, which was higher than the nearby peaks, didn't really need much explanation.

 

If I remember correctly, that day was probably overcast, which is why I don't remember if I saw the sunset. I stayed up there for a while, feeling the vastness and boundlessness. Sometimes, being surrounded by such grand nature all alone makes you realize that the little person we've been prioritizing our whole lives might not be that important compared to this grand nature and the unfathomable universe. A good question that comes to mind is, when we have the opportunity to walk around on this earth, shouldn't there be something more we can do than just find something to eat to fill our stomachs day by day and then just wait for our time to end? I apologize if sometimes I say things that seem too far-fetched, but if the purpose of this piece is based on sincerity, I think what I just described is appropriate.

 

Finally, I spent almost three hours walking down to the accommodation below, which was quite thrilling when I had to walk alone in the forest at night. But I liked this feeling, "a little scared." The description sounds a bit strange, doesn't it? But that's about it. I arrived at the backpacker starving, so I quickly boiled instant noodles because I wanted something warm to eat, and then went to bed thinking, "This is the bed I need."