Fiordland is the bottom, West section of the south and sounds like something out of LOTR. You drive a few thousand feet into the valley and are awe struck to tears at the magesty of it all. Looks like it too, drifting on a boat through the blue water with sheer cliffs on either side. The highest, mitre peak going up a whole mile to a triangular point. Going through was so windy, it was a sport trying to drink tea before the wind dipped into the cup and splattered it out into the air. Bit of a mess, but coming back was much calmer, admired the seals soaking in the sun on a flat rock and passed by lengthly waterfalls that looked like streams running down the mountain surface. One stopped before touching the bottom as the wind carried the last drops away.
Imagining the most magnificent views if it was raining and the hundreds of falls rushing down in the fog... but so grateful it was sunny and warm and the luck I've had in the south with this amazing weather. Instead of the last few months of stepping into rain and leaving the sun behind, finally is has turned around in my favour.
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