Have you ever experienced a recurring nightmare? I have one, which continues to lurk in the dark corners of my mind, of being stuck on the precipice of cliff. There’s no way back and only one way down. I’m frozen by my own fears. Even writing about it sends a shiver down my spine. Given this, why would my wife (a Kiwi) ever, ever think it would be a good idea to put me on the teetering edge of a bridge over an eye-wateringly high canyon? This is her twisted idea of a gift, which is supposed to introduce me to her home. Welcome to New Zealand – now jump off a bridge.
In case you’re wondering, that last one is called ‘Zorbing’ and that’s pretty much all there is to it. ‘Zorbonauts’ are strapped inside a giant clear ball, not unlike helpless hamsters, and pushed down a hill, rolling around like a sock in a washing machine. It’s amazing the things people come up with when they’re bored… Still, it’s funny how you believe that small, remote places will be quiet and boring, yet they’re often jaw-dropping places of life at its most explosive. New Zealand, in that far-flung corner of the globe, is jam-packed with adventure, and Kiwis are an adventurous lot. Believe me, I know. I’m married to one. The whole thing is one big adventure sport.
The natural landscape of New Zealand is designed for those who want to grab life by the throat and push it down a hill, strapped to a board of some kind. Obviously, not all Kiwis are so inclined, but it’s hard not to get involved when you live in a landscape of such natural extremes. Case in point: the Shotover jet boat in Queensland. The Shotover River flows down from the Southern Alps. It’s bordered by a steep, craggy canyon, but remains very shallow in certain places. How do you get round this? Build a boat that skims on top of the shallows, forcing water through an internal propeller, and scare the daylights out of tourists by speeding towards the rocks and then chucking the craft into a stomach-churning 360. The perfect example of how very little in the way of resources can be made into a life-affirming ‘experience’. Then there’s the Nevis bungy jump, also in Queenstown: a small cable car, a large rubber band and a 132-metre drop. Thanks, but no thanks.
You can’t go to New Zealand and not live an outdoors lifestyle. The oceans are there to be sailed, the rivers are there to be ridden and the mountains are there to be climbed up and thrown down. The North Island’s bays and beaches are as good as anything you’ll find in Australia; the South Island’s ski season is drastically better, and even the Aussies will admit it. Every year, from July to September, I seem to lose all my Aussie mates for a couple of weeks as they make the most of their neighbours’ excellent snow. New Zealanders love it. They’re just as disarmingly friendly as Australians, yet they aren’t quite so eager to be seen as being cool. They know just how devastatingly beautiful of their country is and they’re eager to share it.
But back to where we started. There’s no time to enjoy the scenery when you’re standing on the edge of a bridge, 43 metres above a fast-flowing river. There’s a noise in my ear. I think it’s someone egging me on to jump. Or it might just be the whole world, buzzing incessantly. Just one little step…