Baldwin Street, Dunedin - see below!

In March I spent a few days sailing around Fiordland in Nicki's boat, Rhumbline. Amazing scenery of the far south-west coast from Doubtful Sound, where I joined them (thanks to 42nd St for the lift) up to Milford Sound, where I left them. Three blissful days, catching monster cod, being buzzed by schools of larking dolphins, overnighting in secluded bays miles from anybody, soaking up the sun and waves, throwing up occasionally, and enjoying the company of Bruno, Andy, Julie and Nicki. Many many thanks to you all - it was wonderful stuff. But - I have to admit - dry land still has an old-fashioned, comforting kind of feel to it.

During January and February I enjoyed lots of tramps (that's 'hikes', not old blokes who wander round drunk in the centre of Bath arguing with themselves). These included:
Queen Charlotte Track in Marlborough Sounds. Full of astounding scenery, a real gem of a track - 67k and the views of Marlborough's intricate bays and coves change every few minutes.
Abel Tasman. 50k or so of beaches and forests aplenty, and wonderfully secluded little sandy bays to camp in. Better kayaked, really, but the guided tours are not cheap. Absolutely full of Germans all walking with ruthless efficiency.
Routeburn. Superb mountain scenery and the awesome sight of Lake Mackenzie and its wonderful hut at the end of day 2 - though the mountain and valley view from the deck of Routeburn Falls Hut at the end of day 1 is quite astounding.
Milford Track. Referred to in knee-jerk fashion as the 'finest walk in the world' - this quote actually came from an article in a London newspaper in 1912, so you may feel this description is somewhat out of date. Great scenery, especially on the third of the four days when you cross Mackinnon Pass. We had cloudless, perfect weather all the way. Full of great people, wonderful alpine views, and New Zealanders cooking heaps of sausages while the rest of us were nibbling at soggy pasta.
Kepler Superb mountain views etc., wonderful sunny weather etc., lovely huts etc... you're beginning to see a pattern here. But really, the panorama from Mt Luxmore is something ineffably wonderful.
Mount George In Te Anau, David Hamilton - an old college chum - took me on 'proper' tramping. None of this poncey stuff following made tracks and staying in huts full of sausage-frying Kiwis, oh no. You bush-bash through undergrowth for two hours, then walk along untrodden ridges for ten hours before camping in a leaky tent in a storm on a mountain top. Amazing, panoramic, remote alpine scenery, thrilling climbs and descents, never knowing quite what's round the next corner. Or, indeed, down the next sheer slippery 100m-drop to your immediate left. Thanks David and Harriette!

In late February I also got roped into a school party concert at very remote Doubtful Sound in Fiordland, and thrilled the pupils of Rosedale School, Invercargill, with my stage sound effects. ("Mr Ainsley's coconut shells were some of the most convincing horse's-hooves heard in Deep Cove hostel this year" - Invercargill Advertiser). Huge fun, and it was great to meet the parents and kids. Good grub too! Thanks Bob, and everyone.

In mid-February I cycled the Central Otago Rail Trail. Officially opened on 20 Feb 2000, this is a new cycling route which stretches 150km from Clyde to Middlemarch, north-west of Dunedin. The surface is, to be honest, a bit ropey, often with flinty rocks the size of golf balls and grapefruit - definitely not for road bikes and not too good for panniers either. But it's flat, and goes through some lovely remote countryside and quiet, old goldrush villages such as Ophir, Oturehua, Ranfurly and Waipiata. The train connection from Middlemarch (or Pukerangi) to Dunedin down the Taieri Gorge is astoundingly beautiful, and takes bikes free!

In Dunedin, I took time to see the world's steepest street. (See the picture above.) Baldwin St has a gradient variously reported to be '1 in 1.266' (Guinness); '1 in 2.8' (the souvenir shop ad); '40 per cent' (the cycle computer of the Swiss couple I met on the Taieri Gorge train); and 'urgh' (the wheezing of any cyclist foolhardy enough to try pedalling up it). Whatever, it's a dead straight, dead-end, concreted side road that goes 500m or so up a suburban hillside, and my goodness it's steep. Steeper than the twenty bucks you get charged for the boat ride you need to complete the Milford Track. Too steep to cycle up: while pushing the bike up I stopped at one point with both brakes jammed on. With wheels locked the bike still squealed back downhill. From the top it looks like a skislope, with the sheerest part apparenly disappearing past a ledge - definitely too dangerous to cycle down, even for my mate Si.