Two Beautiful Bus Rides

If you're ever in New Zealand and on a bus from Waitomo to New Plymouth, you're eyes will be glued to the window. If you're ever on a bus from Dunedin to Queenstown, sit on the left side and glue your eyes to the window. If you're going from Queenstown to Dunedin, sit on the right, and (say it with me) glue your eyes to the window.

I've had the pleasure of taking a bus from Waitomo to New Plymouth and from Dunedin to Queenstown. Both are spectacular drives, perhaps NZ has some better drives out there (actually, I'm willing to bet on that), but so far these have been the best to.

Unfortunately, my camera was accidently packed in the pack that was stored at the bottom of the bus during my trip from Waitomo to New Plymouth, but I can describe it for you.

The landscape around Waitomo is characterized by hills--green, soft, beautiful hills that hints at mountains in they way they ripple and roll upwards and on top of each other. But suddenly, as the bus gets moving, the character of the land changes. Things get steeper, the green gets darker, and the rocks get sharper. The hints of mountains turn into suggestions as the bus begins a winding crossing of what might one day be a great mountain range. Twisting through the hill-mountains, skating along the side of steep cliffs, and following the tracks of rivers. Looking out the window is an exercise in awe. The colors, the shapes, everything is vivid and full, lush with light and beauty.

Then out of nowhere, there's a sighting of blue. It's the ocean. Or the sea. I'm not sure what official name that blue has, but it's there, peeking out between the green. And then, the green sinks down a little bit, slowly giving way to the blue. And the bus is on the ocean edge, scooting along, rolling green on one side, waving blue on the other.

If you ever get the chance to drive that way, do it.

From Dunedin to Queenstown, the sights are just as stunning, but in a very different way. Green dominates the previous bus ride, a soft and lush sort of dramatic green. But grey and black and bleak is the color of Central Otago. There are hills here, too, but they look like someone took a hammer to them and slowly chipped away, occasionally getting so frustrated they struck at the stone until parts shattered off.

The hills are rugged, with stone poking up here and there. The tufts of green are bristly, thirsty. The hills  give way to mountains, but the mountains are more aloof, keeping away from the road. These mountains are darker, grimmer, and their shapes stand up against the sky. They challenge the blue. The challenge you. Asking if you are brave, asking what you are willing to risk to discover their treasures, asking why you've dared to approach them...

If you're ever in New Zealand, consider answering those questions.