featureKahurangi nameNational Park, near Abel National Park, where Damian flew on day two of his “sky safari”

The hobbits walked.

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The hobbits walked. We flew.

Damian Barr in Photographs: John Doogan

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Almost instantly I spot a glacier. It doesn’t glitter like a Fox’s mint, but it is vast. It trickles into Lake Tekapo — so blue it looks fake. “Yeah, we put Toilet Duck in it every night,” laughs Richard, the pilot 46 • The sunday times magazine The sunday times magazine • 47 new zealand

He’s got his own plane. His own pilot. And a chance to be in the driving seat. During a four-day “sky safari” over , Damian Barr sees the eighth wonder of the world and flies through a rainbow

Have we got parachutes?” I ask the pilot “— my pilot — as I fiddle with my seat belt in the pre-dawn gloaming. It’s January, so it’s summer on New Zealand’s South Island. The sun can’t wait to get up and about. The sky Going up in the world: Damian Barr (right) gets briefed before above Christchurch airport is blushing. So am I. a flying lesson with his pilot/instructor Richard Kennard Richard’s eyebrows pop up behind his aviators, and I realise that asking a pilot about parachutes is like asking a hairdresser about feel flying — with its relative lack of obstacles out to the runway, where our plane awaits. wigs. “Don’t worry, we won’t need them,” he — might be easier than driving. Our flight I pop in earplugs and don my headphones smiles, his teeth reassuringly even and white. plan is set. as both engines whirr into life. Slowly, we taxi If he takes good care of them, his engines must On day one Richard meets me at to the runway. Right in front of us, a huge Air be sparkling. I glance at his shoes, comfortingly Canterbury Aero Club on the outskirts of New Zealand jet lumbers off. I feel like a wren shiny. Then I notice how fresh his face is, how Christchurch, the earthquake-slammed faced with an eagle. “Mike Indio Romeo,” says very twentysomething fresh, and I remind capital of the South Island. He’s wearing a Richard to air-traffic control in noticeably myself that age and experience are not the school-white, short-sleeved shirt with smooth tones. “That’s my radio voice,” he same. Richard Kennard isn’t just a fully black-and-gold CAC epaulettes. I note, with says. “You gotta have one, you can’t just qualified pilot with thousands of hours relief, that he smells soapy and isn’t chewing speak.” After some chatter, Mike Indio Romeo behind and below him; he’s also a flight gum. There’s no special terminal, just a door — that’s us — is cleared. We’re hurtling instructor. I’m in safe hands. I’m in safe hands. For the next four days we’ll be tinned Day 1: Christchurch > D’Urville Island > Blenheim together, flying wherever I fancy — weather Flying time: 4 hrs (250 nautical miles) willing. A Sky Safari is more like a road trip, Driving time: 9 hrs only there’s no car, no roads, very little traffic, Hobbit time*: 5 weeks, 1 day no discernible speed limit. You go where you want, see what you’ve dreamt of. You can Day 2: Blenheim > Golden Bay > self-fly, and most people do, but I can barely Abel Tasman > Southern Lakes > drive a car. The plane is a white Partenavia Queenstown P68. Most planes are white, but I memorise Flying time: 4 hrs (375 nautical miles) the colour in case I have to find it in the Driving time: 14 hrs aeronautical equivalent of a car park. It has Hobbit time: 9 weeks, 4 days Map to go here two — count them, two — engines, and six beige leather seats. It’s a little plane, not a Day 3: Queenstown > Milford Sound > private jet — we must clamber in and out the Lake Quill > Dunedin GRAPHIC TO hatch at the side. There is no toilet, no galley, Flying time: 2hrs (210 nautical miles) no emergency exit. No entertainment system. Driving time: 9hrs COME TOMORROW No lights will come on in an emergency. No Hobbit time: 4 weeks, 6 days slide will inflate. “See the axe on the floor,” says Richard. “That’s how we get out.” Day 4: Dunedin > Christchurch When he says axe, it sounds like ex. Flying time: 2hrs (210 nautical miles) Yesterday, Richard was taking crates of rare- Driving time: 5hrs breed chickens way down south. For the next Hobbit time: 3 weeks, 2 days four days, he’s got me. *Hobbit time calculated on Hobbit Each Sky Safari is bespoke, and although walking 10 miles per day the plane is not luxurious, it’s still a privilege. Richard and I agree my itinerary in advance — just enough Middle Earth to satisfy my inner geek, a glacier or two and a pilgrimage to the Marlborough Sounds, where water is turned to sauvignon blanc. And at some point I might want to take the controls. Somehow I

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furiously along the runway, but as soon as our “I feel like a coin being being shaken out of a piggy bank by a child wheels leave the ground everything feels but I don’t care. I have to see the dolphins slower, smoother, quieter. shaken out of a piggy again. They actually seem pleased to see us; Below us, Christchurch looks like a war bank by a child, but I I wish I’d brought some fish to throw for them. zone. Four years after the earthquake that I’m still swooning from the dolphin killed 185 people, most of the centre remains don’t care. I must see the display when we turn towards the mountains. levelled. They lost more than 1,500 buildings. dolphins again. I wish I Between the Kaikōura ranges is an impossible From above it’s like a chessboard at the end of pass. It looks like a dare. The closer we get, the the game. Only nobody won here. The had fish to throw them” higher we climb, and as we zip through, the cathedral is still standing, but only just. It’s ridge lurches away, rollercoaster style. Soon hard to believe this is New Zealand, not some the mountains are treeless tonsure-topped, country we comfort ourselves by calling bald as monks. Up ahead soars our first big “Third World”. It feels a bit like Berlin after peak: Mount Tapuae-o-Uenuku. It is 9,465ft the wall, with grief and opportunity palpable. and has white beauty patches of snow. We go We’re at 2,000ft already, and still climbing. round and round the mountain, just because As we clear the city, patchwork fields unfurl we can, and I start enjoying the tight turns. across gentle hills. Richard hands me a map nautical miles: 1 NM is 1,852 metres. A mile Far below the silver ribbon of the Awatere I unfold, filling our cabin and blocking his on the ground is 1,609 metres. Our speed is in river guides us out to the Marlborough Sounds view. If this was a car, we’d have crashed, but knots — 1 knot is 1.15 miles per hour. Richard — hundreds of spectacular drowned valleys in a plane there’s nothing to hit. Mountains explains this to me and I nod. It’s more about which out-fjord Norway. We’re almost there and other obstacles are fairly easily avoidable. the journey than the destination, I get that. when it becomes difficult to spot the river for You can see a long, long way. We’ve got GPS, Soon we’ve left , and hills grow cloud. Richard goes lower. Rain streaks our but the map is more fun. I visualise our into mountains, the Inner and Seaward screen. and we’ve no wipers. Only it’s not rain, progress as the moving dotted line in the Kaikōura ranges are a safe distance to our left. it’s something called virga, which is water that Indiana Jones films. Below stretch the At 5,000ft I catch sight of our shadow chasing never makes it to the ground. Our blue skies Canterbury Plains. It looks like Kent, only it’s us way down below. Kaikoura Bay, famous for have gone. It’s cloudier than a 1980s pop parched brown by the long, hot summer. Our its dolphins, shimmers ahead. Cloud is video. “I’m not comfortable with those,” compass says we’re heading north. We plan to gathering, so we dip for a look but not too low says Richard, pointing at some big ones. fly anticlockwise around the entire South enough for our engines to disturb wildlife. “They’re towering nimbus, they can take us Island — which is a bit bigger than England The bay looks frothy, and as I start to think up or down thousands of feet. They’re just not — in just four days. It would be impossible by “storm”, we get close enough for me to see the safe.” Using his radio voice, he establishes car, as there simply are no roads where we’re waves are actually hundreds of dark-grey contact with Woodbourne Air Field, and turns going. Even if there were, it would take weeks dolphins leaping almost as one. I press my us round. It’s frustrating, but he’s right. and weeks. As for walking, ask Bilbo Baggins. face against the window, forgetting its only We land, smoothly, and we hire a car and Distance is different up here. Even though flimsy Perspex. Richard banks the plane drive to Nelson. We stop off at the Brancott we’re in the air, distance is measured in steeply for a closer look and I feel like a coin Estate Winery, and I sample while Richard

Kalkoura Bay, where, from above, Barr sees “hundreds of dolphins leaping out as one”

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become even friendlier (if that were possible). This is no tourist act — they love Scotland as much as they stories. The Dunedin Writers and Readers Festival (aka DWRF — it gets the Tolkien crowd in) is hugely popular and the place is being honoured as a Unesco City of Literature (just like Edinburgh). I stay over in the Camp Estate at Larnach Castle, which commands the Bay. Next morning is our final flight. “I feel a bit sad,” says Richard. I do too. We avoid the low-flying albatrosses outside Dunedin and head north towards Christchurch to complete our loop. He talks to me of nautical miles and knots, and I understand. An hour in and my headphones crackle alarmingly. Richard’s lips are moving, but I can’t hear him. He points inland at gathering darkness. Thunder. We nip out to sea and soon I can hear again. The The outlet of the Godley River - HAVE BEEN TOLD THIS PIC MIGHT CHANGE clouds continue talking to one another. Sometimes they shout. Ahead, the gentle green contours of the Canterbury Plains stretch softly, a tablecloth abstains. A few miles along the road is the Queenstown is today’s destination — the that’s been spread over the tea things. Soon Pelorus River, down which the dwarves, extreme-sports capital. We fly low over the we’ll be landing. But not just yet n fleeing the forces of , floated in barrels. famous bungee bridge, which is as close as I Damian Barr travelled as a guest of It is so still and clear, it looks like there is no want to get. I count five private jets as we land. Discover the World (01737 214 291; discover- water at all. It’s dark when we arrive in Nelson, There is a Louis Vuitton on the high street. the-world.co.uk), which has a six-night and still dark when we leave because who The town is sandwiched between the privately guided aerial tour of New Zealand doesn’t want to see dawn from the sky. Remarkables and Lake Wakatipu. If it wasn’t starting from £5,341pp (based on two sharing), “Sorry about all this cloud,” says Richard, for all the adventure, it would be serene. My inc. aircraft with instructor, 15 flying hours, as we take off into day two. He takes weather balcony at the Saint Moritz Hotel allows me to accommodation, activities and some meals. personally. “It’s still too bad for Marlborough watch other people water-ski. Very relaxing. Sound.” We tweak our route and head over After all the flying I fancy a walk, so put on my Abel Tasman National Park (one of 10 on the hiking boots and tackle the hill behind the South Island). Golden Bay is as described — hotel. The Tiki Trail is surprisingly steep but bracelets of 24-carat sand sandwiched within minutes all the views are mine. I sleep between chartreuse fern-tree forests and for 14 hours that night. cerulean seas. It’s high-definition landscape. On day three Richard hands me my own Heading inland we swoop over the Arthur aviators. “You’ll need them.” Today is Milford Range, scene of the endless trampings in Lord Sound — Rudyard Kipling called it the eighth of the Rings. The actors had to be helicoptered wonder of the world. Somehow nearby in and there are no Hollywood luxuries. . Doubtful Sound sounds more exciting. Up we The Arthurs give way to the Southern Alps go again. Almost instantly I spot a glacier. It — this epic range forms the spine of the South doesn’t glitter like a Fox’s Mint, but it is vast. Island. Beneath it, tectonic plates shift with It trickles into a lake so blue it looks fake. alarming frequency. Or perhaps here be dragons. “Yeah, we put Toilet Duck in it every night,” Peaks higher than any I’ve imagined poke laughs Richard. This blueness subsides into a up through clouds like knees in a bubble bath. waterfall that cascades down into a mist of its The star of today will be Mount Cook, Aoraki, own making. Then Milford Sound. Without New Zealand “the cloud piercer” in Maori. But as we get cloud. The first iconic landmark we can XXX closer, another front rolls in. The mountain is actually see. We go lower and the Jurassic XXXX shy, shrouded in cloud. She doesn’t want to be Park theme music plays in my head. or at thesundaytimes.co.uk/newzealand seen. Ditto the . “Sorry,” Waterfalls spill profligately down the green says Richard. Nature doesn’t do itineraries. sides of the mountainous valley. It’s almost COMPETITION too much, but Richard takes me round again. Win two business-class Soon, too soon, we’re back out over a low flat flights to Auckland with valley en route to Dunedin. There’s no Malaysia Airlines weather to worry about, no scenery to wonder over, so Richard lets me take the controls. COPY TO COME “There’s no weather to Well, it has two sets. So I copy his movements and feel the plane almost as a living thing worry about, no scenery and, for a second, I’m flying. to wonder over, so I take Dunedin is Gaelic for Edinburgh, and it’s a very small version of Auld Reekie. It even the controls. I feel the has a castle — New Zealand’s only one. Burns plane as a living thing. casts a chancer’s eye from his plinth in the Octagon, the town centre, and bagpipes can For a second, I’m flying ” be heard. When locals hear my accent they

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