Taking the Hobbit Bus to Milford Sound

One of the main reasons we had decided to head back down the west coast to Te Anu was to take a day trip to Milford Sound. Maggie and I had visited this incredible fjord back in 1994, when we travelled the length of New Zealand in a Maui campervan with our three young children. Now, thirty years later, it was our chance to visit it again.

Rudyard Kipling famously described Milford Sound as the "eighth wonder of the world", and there is very good reason why this is the case. The combination of steep, towering mountains and deep, dark water is startling. Apparently it took, not one, but several ice ages and many millions of years for nature to carve out this masterpiece.

Our group of travelers got up in the dark to be ready to be picked up by our bus at 7.20 am. We waited in a huddle outside the hotel waiting for our large bus to arrive, When it did arrive, to our dismay we discovered that it was not a large bus at all. It was a tiny squeezebox. We did our best to climb on board, fumble for the seat belts and try to find some sort of comfortable seating position.

If that was not bad enough, we were then told that they still had several hotels to visit to collect the rest of the passengers. About twenty minutes later, every single miniature seat was taken. Somehow four people were shoe horned into the back seat, each having to take turns with their breathing. If two of them had inhaled at the same time, the consequences could have been disastrous.

Maggie and I were squashed together a little further up, where I had the added pain of a large pillar pressing into my right shoulder. It was going to be a LONG trip, but at least it was not as long as it could have been if we had started at Queenstown, instead of Te Anau. We faced a 2 hour journey each way, most of which I managed to sleep my way through in some sort of coma.

When we emerged from the bus at Milford Sound, I was finally able to get some feeling back into my legs, but to my horror the place was already awash with hundreds of tourists from other (much bigger) buses. We were rapidly shunted through the terminal, while being handed a boarding pass and a rather sad looking bag lunch.

At least the boat was comparatively comfortable, with enough seats for everyone. For the next two hours we cruised the fjord and gazed at the sights all around. The cruise took us all the way to the Tasman Sea and at time came perilously close to the sheer rock wall. I had thoughts of the ill fated Costa Concordia. Perhaps ship captains of all sizes take pleasure out of giving their passengers a thrill.

After the cruise it was time to face the challenge of cramming back into the bus again. I could not help but think it was like trying to put toothpaste back into the tube. At least we insisted on people changing seats so that the pain could be equitably shared around. The American passenger who had grabbed the comfortable front seat, however did not seem to see the fairness of changing seats and ensured that he had the most comfortable seat on the bus for both journeys.

In spite of the pain of the journey, the magic of the cruise did make the day a day to remember. Tomorrow we head back to Queenstown. That will be the final stop of our New Zealand adventure.Læs mere