New Zealand’s Milford Sound exposes the inadequacy of photography, and memory.
Did I actually see that? Did I actually do that?
And who made all this?
Standing on Milford’s shoreline, waterfalls dropping from mountains almost as high as Kosciusko really is a religious experience, the scene forever changing as Zen-like clouds mist-ify the now covered, now uncovered, ridges and peaks.
The Roaring Forties constantly bring saturated air from the Tasman Sea, and the resulting billows swirl in huge vortices around the spires. Whole mountains float mid-air before disappearing. Then flashes of sunlight reflect, golden, on the high glaciers.
If you are into dramatic scenery, let me tell you: do not go anywhere else in the world until you’ve seen Milford. For ease-of-execution and simple wow! factor, you cannot beat it and the – sorry, I’ve got to say - breathtaking drive from Queenstown.
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