🗓️ March 03, 2026

🏁 Kilometers : 2775

Today we have to be at noon in Milford Sound at the counter of the cruise company where our friend Hal booked three tickets for us. It's a good hour and a half drive, and we're lucky enough to find a ride in under two minutes. It's a couple of girls traveling in a van, one from the United States and the other who grew up in Dubai and whose father is… a pilot for Emirates! What a coincidence!

This part of the country called Fiordland, is located in the southwest of New Zealand and, as its name suggests, is made up of a multitude of fjords stretching for about 230 kilometers in length and 60 kilometers in width. Milford Sound is one of the few accessible by road, hence its great popularity. A small airport allows for short sightseeing flights in small planes and helicopters (nearly 300 flights a day in the summer), and numerous two-hour cruises are organized daily.

We discover the boat Hal has booked for us and are blown away: it's not a large boat packed with tourists like sardines; we're getting a smaller, more comfortable vessel with about thirty passengers. At 12:30 pm, the boat leaves the dock and the cruise begins.

Like any other fjord, high mountains, some exceeding 1,600 meters in height, plunge directly into the ocean, which can reach depths of 400 meters. The faces of these stone giants were smoothed by the movements of glaciers that were located there between -75,000 and -15,000 years ago. Numerous plants thrive in every crevice of the rock, lacking soil to grow on, yet benefiting from abundant rainfall 250 to 300 days a year, with 6 to 7 meters of precipitation annually.

Several waterfalls grace the landscape, lending a surreal quality to the place. The tallest plunges 162 meters directly into the ocean. We are enjoying perfect weather; it seems we are truly blessed. The boat stops beside a low, rocky platform where a few seals bask in the sun. I have the impression that this is the kind of animal one usually only sees in documentaries.

Once we reach the end of the fjord, where it opens onto the vast ocean, the boat turns around and we are invited to sit down to lunch. The meal is presented as if we were in a gourmet restaurant and is delicious. We were also treated to dessert and unlimited tea/coffee. Being hungry hikers, we certainly took advantage! (I drank three hot chocolates!).

On the return trip, we passed close to the waterfalls, the boat stopping so near we could feel the spray. After a two-hour cruise, it was time to disembark (not without regret) and hitchhike back to the trail we had left the previous morning. We only hiked for an hour and a half in the late afternoon and set up camp around 6:00 PM. We ate dinner in the company of countless sandflies.

We truly felt privileged today!

🗓️ March 04, 2026

🏁 Kilometers : 2803

Yvan and I woke up at midnight; there was a lunar eclipse that night. We set up our sleeping bags in the grass and bundled up to watch the moon turn a russet hue. The fabulous starry sky, with the Milky Way and the occasional shooting star, was a sight that reminded me of my teenage years when we used to sleep outside to watch the traditional Perseid meteor shower in mid-August.

The next morning, we start hiking around 8:00 a.m. and descend the gently sloping valley through a forest. We are lucky enough to catch a glimpse of a Takahe, a bluish bird about the size of a chicken, an endangered species with an estimated population of only about 500 individuals.

The forest gives way to open spaces mostly covered in yellowing grass, with a river winding through the center. We take advantage of the lunch break to dry our tents and are slow to get going again; we still have 16 kilometers to cover in the afternoon. We reach the evening hut around 6:30 p.m. and are lucky that it's empty tonight; we'll have the comfort of a night inside and a mattress, which makes us very happy.

🗓️ March 05, 2026

🏁 Kilometers : 2833

We're waking up later and later, probably following the sun, which is also rising a little later each day, sensing that summer is truly over. We start walking around 8:30 a.m. for about thirty kilometers today. The trail continues along the valley, sometimes disappearing into tall grass and marshy areas. A few traps litter the path, with our feet occasionally sinking unexpectedly into a mixture of water and mud. Natalie even finds herself with mud up to her knees.

The scenery is magnificent: the valley is open with the bluish river flowing through its center, expanses of yellowing grass, and low, rocky mountains in the background. Around midday, we reach the Mavora Lakes: the northern lake, the larger of the two, stretching for about twelve kilometers, and then the smaller southern lake, bordered by forest.

I'm camping alone tonight; it seems Natalie and Yvan stopped earlier than planned. The view of the lake from my tent is idyllic and the atmosphere very peaceful.

🗓️ March 06, 2026

🏁 Kilometers : 2871

A slightly less enjoyable day. I have to walk eight kilometers in the forest (which is fine), but then arduously 30 kilometers along a gravel road. I take comfort in knowing that this will be the last major stretch along paved roads. It's a real mental challenge; I try to distract myself as best I can with the scenery (unfortunately, not very varied).

I'm sleeping in Te Anau tonight, where I'll meet up with Natalie and Yvan, with, of course, supplies and laundry to do as usual.