Wonderful, gorgeous crisp clear blue winters day. So when Chris and Pup from mountain rescue and the police came and gave a snow survival talk it went down very well. More about them on day two. There were actually three of them but the third one had to 'stay with the police car' half way down the mountain just in case 'anything happened to it'. Needless to say we woke him up when we drove down off the ski field.
We stayed at Glentanner and this is the view we woke to:
Day two saw more of Chris and Pup and the silent third partner and lessons on how to cross rivers and carry out the wounded along with stories of sewing up your own injuries. After lunch we headed off up the valley to Mount Cook Village, the Hermitage and Hooker Valley. Jenn nearly crashed the car as the view was just breathtaking. The boys (Barney, Bradley, Bailey and Alex) did a sterling job taking it in turns to be co pilot/DJ over the camp. It makes Jenn smile to think that in years to come there will be four boys who will always be transported to a specific time in their lives whenever they hear: Nena's 99 Red Balloons, Men at Work Down Under, David Essex Hold Me Close, Blue Oyster Cult's The Reaper and ELO's Mr Blue. Personally by the end of day four Jenn was just about ready to scream if any of the aforementioned were ever played again. The hooker valley visitor center was very sobering. Did you know there are five or so books in there and each page is dedicated to a person that has lost their lives on Mount Cook. Jenn has yet to find out what glissading means, but it seems to be popular method of death on a mountain. Can you imagine cause of death: Blown off the mountain?
The third day saw the cloud move in and a talk from the Helicopter pilots at Glentanner, a trip to the Hermitage and The Sir Edmund Hillary Centre for some fabulous 3D movies. The helicopters were a big hit with the boys and everyone got to sit in it. Later a trip to Twizel for Black Stilts breeding recovery programme. Why? These are just about the stupidest birds imaginable. And finally a trip to a salmon farm. Where up the patron of this establishment gave a talk. As he flustered about anchoring some newspaper to a table, proceeded to harangue his wife for a hammer, gathered us all around a fish pond to ooh and aah as we firstly fed the fish and then cheered as the assistant caught a fish thinking that they would show it around perhaps let some eager fingers touch the fish and then put it back. But no. About 20 odd kids and several adults (90% of whom are farmers I will add) stood in shocked silences as the fish was slapped on the table and the hammer came down. The patron then gave a very interesting lesson in dissection and fish biology. That fishes heart kept beating for the entire time in its poor little disembodied state. Fascinating all the same. Especially when one of the feistier girls asked at the end ' is there a better way of killing them other than beating them to death?' Oh how we laughed.
That evening was the last evening so it was the traditional camp concert. Much hilarity and hysterical activity (by this stage sleep deprivation and o'd'ing on the aforementioned sugar and carbohydrate was peaking). Star turn went to Alex who might be a bit 'outside the box' but he has a set of lungs on him that can turn out a glorious tune.
The last day saw us all packing in a fog of exhaustion and a light drizzle, off home with a stop half way for some RnR at Tekapo's hot pools (sadly not proper volcanic ones). The parents didn't go in they sat around in a stupor drinking huge fish bowls of coffee.
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