The Road to Milford Sound, continued....

Leaving the Hollyford Valley behind the road met up with a river which seemed to be fed by the imposing mountains now towering above me. As the rain fell waterfalls appeared cascading down from the mountain peaks high above. Warning signs alerted me to the fact that I was now in an avalanche risk area and was unable to stop. This went on for over 30km - such are the perils in this area. The snow now blanketed the sides of the road and as I climbed higher the rain itself actually turned to snow.

Snow lines the road up towards Homer Tunnel

Approaching Homer Tunnel – which was famously cut out through the mountainside to provide much needed manual labour after the war years, the mountains seem to move closer to the roadside and gigantic boulders and lumps of rock lay scattered about. No wonder it was a no stopping area I thought to myself! I had to stop a little further however as the lights for the tunnel were red. It is run on a one way system and the waiting time on the big board in front of me advised 10 minutes. Just enough time to jump out of the car, pull on the waterproofs, and take some essential photographs. Snapping the shots was so easy as there were epic views in every direction. Trying to take in the colossal might of the place and it's sheer wonderment was though another matter. No picture could ever do it justice. Sometimes nature just wins hands down, leaving you with the impression that you are both small and insignificant in her immense scheme of things.

The waiting sign at the entrance to Homer Tunnel

Eventually the lights turned to green and I drove carefully through the tiny hole in the mountainside - no Homer Tunnel isn't small, but it does look like a dot on the mountainside when you are in such a place. Driving through I counted the markings, 600km, 800km etc until I reached the light at the end. It was quite a relief Homer Tunnel is not for the faint hearted, once you've experienced it you will understand my statement. I've been through it in fog once before which was quite an ordeal, a case of clinging on for sheer will if I'm honest. Finally emerging into the Cleddau Valley on the other-side of the mountain range my breath nearly left my body and my hands tightened ever so more on that steering wheel. The drop into Cleddau Valley is impressive, it’s also slightly scary as you corkscrew around the tight bends in the road plummeting you down into the valley. There used to be a great stopping point in this area known as The Chasm but sadly it’s closed at the moment due to the storms earlier in 2020 that caused significant damage in this area. After driving through the avalanche zone for so long I breathed a huge sigh as the signs indicated I was finely free of such risks. Yes, these days the road is controlled and monitored well, with hazardous snow build ups reduced by detonator when the road is closed, to try to prevent any unforeseen avalanche. Nothing is certain though and we all know that nature is a force to be reckoned with.

I continued weaving my way around the valley floor through dense New Zealand Fiordland rainforest before eventually I reaching my destination, Milford Sound. The drive had been one of amazement, bewilderment, gob smacking scenery and a small bit of terror – colossal in every respect and one that lives in the memory forever afterwards.

The seating area in the Milford Lodge, a welcome escape from the weather

Rain pours down the window panes at Milford Lodge which is surrounded by native rainforest

Milford Lodge was my first port of call as I parked up and purchased a well earnt coffee to relax the nerves and enjoy in their freshly decorated café. The fur coverings on my seat warming me as I watched the rain tumble through the bush and wash down the window outside – this is the Fiordlands after all and to make it this incredible it needs all that rain…..

The departure point for boat trips at Milford Sound