Getting close. Coming back to drive on the other side of the road. Seeing all you crazies on the video-conference feed of the techno-savvy US of A. 
Just calm down will you? No need to be in such a rush. It will take me negative hours to fly on over. As in 45 minutes I'll be moving back in time.
So soak this one up and keep it firing around on your synapses:
That is all. Tusen takk for sauer og Jonno.
Let's recap a little, but first some unpleasant business:
My camera can now be found in Japan. Those lovely folks in Christchurch decided to send it away on suspicion of having gone deeper than 1.5m. Not true! Also, no permission was asked under the full knowledge of my soon leaving (look a gerund!) the country. [Insert pity party here]
So:
Number of 12-Mile descents: TBD
Number of Routeburn descents: TBD
Number of Hematomas: 1
Number of Hyperextended knees: 1
Number of jammed fingers: 3
Number of dislocations in NZ: 0
Number of internal bruises: 2
Number of limbs free of injury whilst canyoneering: 1
Number of hearts broken: ?
Number of coffees ordered in Glenorchy: >80
Number of Veggie wraps eaten in Glenorchy: <10 :(
Any questions?
Winding up with no stop apparent for trips. Large one-guide groups, plenty of water with the rain and the saturated soil and the... Tick-tock Tick-tock, much to do...
And the work continues at a steady pace. Yet, today I got to bear witness to another of the numerous activities to engage the self in around Queenstown: The Canyon Swing (The world's largest swing)
It is important to remain consistent and I maintain that any similarities borne out in the photo of myself and of the jumper are but a mere coincidence. I mean, you've seen what wizardry is possible on celluloid. At least give me the benefit of the doubt.
Please?
First off I'd like to pass the time. You know, waste some space.
Now with that out of the way, let's clear the mind of all office/school/work trivialities and discuss what is really important. Discuss the nature of reality as we know it and how we're all part of the giant spaceship. I'd like to sound like the rantings from a Dr. Bronner's soap bottle. I'd like to make a hat in the style of those outdoor propane heaters. Wearing a gas tank on my back, I would be the life of the party! I could keep scantily clad women all around me even in the coldest of winter nights and serve a nice smoked gouda cream sauce with foccacia bread. But let's move on:
Some places are still nice.
Now although the shoes have been retired...
...I still go canyoning (canyoneering). We leave Queenstown...
...and drive...
...past the bluff...
...and past the glare of the bald into the Routeburn valley...
...I understand that -burn is a Scottish word meaning river or valley and that saying Routeburn valley is somewhat redundant, so let's talk about something more esoteric: (NB: ZB)
Up in Mt. Aspiring National Park, they allow recreational fishing. What do they fish for you ask? Brown trout. No standard fish hook method, but you have to use a fly rod and it has to be catch and release b/c it's quite easily accessible by car. I hope that those driving check their oil before beginning the trip.
Time to cleanse the palate:
Sometimes they even let me leave Queenstown!:
And drive up the coast:
Or to the fjords:
That is all. Takk for mej.
