At 5:30 that morning, when I begrudgingly rolled out of bed, I couldn’t have anticipated the beauty of Milford Sound.
Photo: Scott and Lizzy MonroeWaking up at 5:30am was the last way I wanted to reward myself after a 3-day hiking trip. My legs were extremely sore from scrambling up and down 35 miles worth of mountains and staying in our cozy apartment-style hotel was an appealing alternative to more physical activity. I don’t know if it was the hills or numerous steps on the trail that got me, but my calves (closely followed by my quads) rebelled the most.
A funny thing about being completely disconnected from technology (other than cameras) and crossing the international date line, is that it becomes difficult to keep track of the date. Throughout our hiking, my family had two heated debates over what day of the week it was. This disorientation caused us to question the dates of activities we’d scheduled for after our hike, which I now know ended on Saturday, the 21st. Wanting to get the most out of our 16-day family vacation in New Zealand, we’d planned a daylong kayaking trip in Milford Sound for the 22nd. This came as an unwelcomed revelation on Saturday night when we stumbled into our hotel in Te Anau.
Obviously, we weren’t going to pass up the opportunity to see Milford Sound (look at these pictures and you’ll understand why) so we all did our best to ignore our protesting muscles when prepping for another day filled with exercise. Before hitting the water, we were given long underwear, neoprene vests, bright orange raincoats, purple life jackets, and a large skirt (to seal the opening in the kayak), to wear while kayaking. This culminated in a hilarious ensemble that I’m still kicking myself for not documenting with a picture. Once I realized that kayaking primarily requires only upper body strength (and with the distraction of my jaw-dropping surroundings), I quickly forgot all about my aching legs. The glassy water of Milford Sound reflected the enormous mountains and brilliant sun that surrounded us while we paddled to one of the area’s waterfalls. We stopped for lunch at a secluded beach along the water and attempted to capture our surroundings in pictures that, despite their beauty, still fail to do the scenery justice.
Photo: Scott and Lizzy MonroeBy the end of the tour, the wind had picked up, and our guide instructed us to link our four kayaks together (the group consisted of eight people in double kayaks). He then whipped out something that resembled a parachute with ropes attached to each of its four corners and gave the ropes to the people in the outer kayaks. Those in the back attached the ropes to their paddles and as soon as they lifted them up, we began to sail with the wind at our backs. After a few minutes of this little joy ride, our guide asked those of us sitting in front to stand up. I’d thought he was kidding when he’d mumbled something about a “human sail” earlier that day, but apparently not. I linked arms with the two men I was between and we all stood up (to the protest of all our kayak partners for justifiable fear of capsizing into very cold water). For almost a minute of smooth sailing I completely forgot that my legs weren’t at the top of their game for balance and stability. After a final look at my unbelievable surroundings, I realized I was on my tiptoes in an effort to continue linking arms with the two tall men I was between. The pain in my calves came surging back and I crumpled into my seat of the kayak (somehow miraculously avoiding tipping anyone’s boat).
At 5:30 that morning, when I begrudgingly rolled out of bed, I couldn’t have anticipated the beauty of Milford Sound. There are many parts of this experience that I wish I had pictures of (like the fashionable ensemble and me serving as part of a human sail). But even if those pictures did exist, I’m sure they wouldn’t do the experience justice.
Photo: Scott and Lizzy Monroe