New Zealand 21/07/11 to 21/08/11

In a country no bigger than the UK itself, New Zealand packs one hell of mighty punch. Aotearoa, its maori pseudonym, is without hesitancy, per square km, the most beautiful country in the world. Composed of two very different islands and split by the Cook Strait, they are both so self indulged in staggering vista's and natural wonders that circumnavigating makes them a-lifetime-must-see, whilst attempting to describe their magnificence exhausts most adjectives.

In the North you frequently stumble across thermal springs, steaming geysers, snow capped volcano's, crystal white sandy beaches, secluded bays, glacial lakes the size of Singapore and hoards of top-class vineyards, whilst the larger South island, if you dare to believe, outshines its northern counterpart with unsurpassed, picture-perfect postcard views of natural brilliance.

New Zealand is unparalleled in its beauty, blessed with some of natures greatest spectacles and we were lucky enough to camper van our way, 5000km around both islands during the most visually dramatic season; winter.

We arrived in a devastated Christchurch, which is still reeling from the 3 major earthquakes that wreaked havoc in the past 10 months. Destruction on such a scale that unbeknown to us the whole city centre was a write-off and completely closed. Every building from skyscraper to small cafe had been condemned and just as we arrived they were in the process of clearing the city to a mere baron wasteland, in order to start all over again - a process which may see the city rebuilt in 10- 15 years time. It was a shocking sight and one we hope never to see again, but true to the morale and pride of the locals they are slowly reversing their misfortune. Christchurch had gone from a prosperous, buzzing and cosmopolitan city to a mere desolate ghost town in a matter of months.

In our first night in Christchurch we added experienced an earthquake to our travelling CV, as a 5.1 magnitude quake rattled the hostel in the early hours, further damaging the cities fragile infrastructure. This also, unfortunately, meant our sightseeing was limited to torn buildings, broken glass and mounds of rubble. The untouched Hagley park remained unblemished and due to the wrecked pubs and sports bars was being prepped, marquee-style, to host the masses for the impending Rugby World Cup matches.

With little to see we were desperate to pick up our camper van and stock with it home comforts and winter sustenance, namely, vino and chocolate. Our oh-so-cool graffiti'd van was going to be our home for the next 28 days. It was great, as in no other home could you be in the lounge, the kitchen or the bedroom and not even have to move an inch to move between them.

It was the heart of New Zealand's winter and we crazily spent 24 nights freedom camping in roadside scenic spots, and just 5 nights actually paying for the luxury of a campground and its amenities, i.e heat and showers. Did we lose all self-respect for ourselves and our personal hygiene? Maybe. Although we saw it as saving money, but in reality it was the only way to to see the most beautiful and isolated parts of NZ. Waking up and opening the van door to shimmering lakes, snow capped mountains and postcard views made up for any cold nights without the luxury of heat and a shower nearby.

Departing Christchurch we headed south to the picturesque and impossibly blue lake of Tekapo. After camping our first night in sub-zero temperatures we awoke to find the our moist breath had frozen the van solid inside. Thats when you know its cold, making for a slightly uncomfortable naked wake-up. Needing to defrost, we wearily trudged our way through the snow to the summit of Mount John, which not only warmed up us up but gave us unforgettable views of the turquoise waters of Tekapo and its surrounding curtain of snow drenched mountains, limiting our conversational monologues to ''wow's'' and ''oh my god's''.

With the highest mountain in Australasia, Mount Cook (3700m), in our sights we hit the road again to Aoraki, a tiny town quite literally, at the mountains base. The road in was as visually monumental as the sight of the mountain itself. In NZ there is no such thing as travelling just to get somewhere or just getting from A to B, each passing minute and turn is filled with hollywood-perfect landscapes that never depict a bad angle and where travel time is tripled with being sidetracked by the so many camera-conducive panoramas. The road to our favoured campsite for the night at Hooker Valley had been blocked by several feet of snow, having been whipped up by the howling winds and therefore plummeting the mercury levels to a disheartening -10 degrees, which left us with just one bleak option; to sleep in the van at the foot of Mount Cook itself. After a memorable night huddled up by 7pm under two duvets, a sleeping bag and a full set of thermals we decided to make the most of the wintry conditions and hike through the snow to Kea Point, 3 hours east of Aoraki. Forbearing those sub-zero temperatures the night prior proved mightily fruitful as after 2 hours what stood before us and stopping us almost deadbolt in our tracks, were the dramatic spectacles of the advancing Mueller glacier, the imposing ridge line of Mount Cook, the sparkling ice covered Hooker valley floor and a shimmering glacial lake, pretty much leaving us in awed silence.

Being on the road again after 2 whole months of being pampered and preened by the kindness of Lucy and Brendan we had to once again, reinvent ourselves as hard-up travellers. We were scrimping and saving to live as cheaply possible, by that I mean, showering in leisure centres, coupon raiding every local tourist magazine, sitting in Mc'Donalds car park to use the free wi-fi and then stealing their tea, coffee and sugar, we did however, both honourably agree to draw the line at mine-sweeping people's leftover food.

Arriving in Queenstown was a real highlight, firstly we were able to take our first shower in 4 days and secondly the town is the epicentre of high-octane activities. Queenstown is gorgeous, set in a valley, edged by Lake Wakatipu and flanked by the snow capped wonders of the southern Alps. I'm afraid to say I turned 'yellow belly' and succumbed to my child-like fear of heights by deciding to turn down the offer to do the fabled Nevis jumpy, at 147m. No doubt I'll never live that one down. In attempting to take the heat off my weakness in character we headed for the snowy hills to add New Zealand to our expanding world snowboarding portfolio. The views alone justified the price of the lift ticket itself; a backdrop to snowboarding so spectacular it could have been a cardboard cut-out. The snow was immense and the runs were steep and seemingly endless. In fact, a perfect day that left us so high we actually paid for our first full night in a campsite with the added luxury of showers, toilets and most importantly at that time, heat.

Our next stop will forever be etched into our subconsciousness as NZ's crowning moment. Te Anau, via highway 94, is the gateway to magical Milford Sound and is without doubt, the finest driving road in the world. The road was closed for two days due to an avalanche at the Homer tunnel so upon its re-opening we were one of the first and few to drive it in the those coming days. Think sheer rock face walls of over 800m high that tower the road, 200m high road-side cascading waterfalls, mirror lakes, beech forests, grassland downs, hair pin bends, narrow winding inclines, 10ft of walled roadside snow, the crashing sound of house-sized rock slips, fierce avalanches and 1200m mountain pass tunnels covered by thick ice. The road winds it way through the mountain ranges for over 100km, a motoring road of such perfection you would have to go a long long way to eclipse it.

Under unusually clear bluebird skies we arrived at Milford Sound later that afternoon so we jumped on the Southern Discovery ship for a tour of the world renowned fjord. Milford is quite literally stunning, a supposed 8th wonder of the world, it is a glacial cut valley with the1600m tall Mitre Peak portraying New Zealand's most iconic and most photographed landmark. The whole area is a world heritage site the size of Wales and its just happens to be probably some of the most striking scenery we have ever seen. Our photo's are so perfect of this place it almost makes one look superimposed.

Looping back on ourselves via Queenstown we headed north to hike the Franz Josef glacier. With an annual snowfall of over 40m and high summer temperatures its one of few glaciers that actually advances and retreats, sometimes up to 1.5m a day. Looking rather fetching in our bright blue waterproofs, matching bumbags and rudimentary crampons we managed to hike about 5km up the glacier face. It was pretty awesome to say the least, especially with the sound of 1billion tonnes of ice straining as it cuts down through the valley floor. The compacted snow had formed impossibly blue ice, crazy cave like formations and meltwater waterfalls, whilst the 50ft crevasses made for some tentative stepping.

Traversing the west coast we stumbled across what Lonely Planet call one of their top 10 world highways. Highway 6 form Jackson Bay to Westport in the north west was worth every accolade. With just 1% of the population living in what is 9% of NZ's to total land area it felt like a totally different country and you could have been mistaken for thinking your were driving Australia's Great Ocean Rd, such were the views. A meandering highway that snaked adjacently to the coast, it brushed the Tasman sea to its left and shouldered snow capped peaks to its immediate right, whilst in the distant was the sight of huge rocky outcrops jutting into the raging Tasman sea.

Our final few days on the north island were spent in the contrasting region of Marlborough which, due to its perfect climate plays host to world class vineyards and the year-round-accessible Abel Tasman national park. The latter boasts a landscape more akin to that of a Thai island; crystal turquoise waters, perfect white sandy bays and forested walking tracks. We spent a day hiking the 26km stretch between Bark Bay to Marahau in the regions 20 degree winter heat and I've got to say it rivalled any day hikes we accomplished in south east asia. A fact that gives testimony to how contrastingly stark in landscapes New Zealand actually is.

Not wanting to miss a chance for a freebie and we treated ourselves to a shower and hit Marlborough's vineyards to swirl, sniff, sip and swig our way through their world renown Sauvignon Blanc's, Semillons and Pinot Noirs. Be warned people, we are now true wine snobs.

Crossing between two islands in any other part of the world may be as visually depressing as the English channel but not in NZ. The Cook Strait, between Picton and Wellington is regarded as a Kiwi experience itself, nearly 4 hours of scenic bliss.

After docking we sampled the capitals delights in Wellington for a day and then ventured north, almost 500km, to Tongariro national park, where a conical volcano sits ominously at its heart. The park is regarded as hosting possibly one of best day walks in the world; the alpine crossing. Not much good to us as it was miserably misty and too wintry to attempt so we took some Facebook profile snapshots and got the hell out of there to give Lake Taupo a shot at impressing us further.

Lake Taupo is the size of Singapore and the town has a reputation for being the adventure capital of the north. In sheer defiance of her fear of flying, Micki plucked up enough courage to hurl herself from a plane at 15000ft over the picturesque lake itself. The girl did well, hurtling towards earth at speeds in excess of 120mph and free falling for a full 8 seconds before the canopy opened is no mean feat. She produced her best Gromit impressions (photos to prove it) and I could even hear her mid-air screams before I managed to spot her elegantly floating back towards mother earth.

On route to bidding au revoir to NZ we passed through Rotorua, a hotbed of geo-thermal activity where geysers steam from public parks and the stench of sulphur (think eggy) greets you at every turn. We visited Mount Manganui in the gorgeous Bay of Plenty, another string to NZ's beautifully scenic-bow before finding ourselves in Auckland and sadly at the end of our epic road trip. It had to come to an end at some point but we could rest assured that we had witnessed remarkable scenery in a more than remarkable country.