TRAVELING AROUND THE WORLD: Our Tales of Delights and Disasters by Shelley Row

down her side as the wool curled up and peeled away. It was so cool! John said I was a “natural.” I’m not sure the sheep thought so.
     
    Mike took his turn on the same sheep. After we finished, we let her go and surveyed our handiwork. Poor sheep! All her sheep buddies are laughing and calling her names. She had a very bad hair day!
     
    With her on the outside and all her buddies on the inside, she was very unhappy and wouldn’t leave. Much “baa-ing” ensued so we let them all out. They were a little slow to catch on, so I had to get back in the pen and shove them to the open gate. John instructed me to grab a sheep’s head and physically turn it in the direction I wanted her to go. Once again, when one started moving, the others followed. Soon all the sheep were headed back out to their pasture for more peaceful grazing – before the next “tour” of uninformed city-slickers arrived.
     
    After shearing, John showed us how to see the difference in wool quality by the number of wrinkles in the fibers. Merino wool is filled with tiny crinkles and the fiber is very fine. It’s perfect for high-quality, soft garments. There was a memorable moment as John described how merino wool was prized by the fashion industry for its drape – as he tipped his body to one side to demonstrate the drape of the fabric.
     
    With the flat-screen television re-covered, and us back in the truck, we said good-bye to the chickens, the pig and the pet sheep. What a morning! We thanked John for a most memorable experience. After leaving the wee shed, we stopped for lunch at the Glenorchy café. Thankfully, they had a sink and hand sanitizer!

Tuesday, March 8, 2011
    Blue Skies – Undoubtedly!
    The natural beauty of New Zealand inspires. We saw vistas across the South Island from Mt. Cook, The Remarkables in Queenstown, and Doubtful Sound; each place with its own beauty. I found myself wondering, how can a place like this exist, and why aren’t we all living here?
     
    Mt. Cook was our first stop after leaving Christchurch with the trauma of the earthquake. We took a bus for the four-hour ride from the plains of Christchurch to the mountains surrounding Mt. Cook, the highest point in the South Island. When Mike and I arrived, the peaks of the mountains were obscured by clouds. I took a walk through the valley to stretch my legs and was greeted by tall, purple lupine which reminded me of Texas bluebonnets. The valley floor was covered with scrubby, golden grasses that whispered in the breeze. There were large boulders sprinkled about that had been carelessly dropped by the glacier as it passed through thousands of years before. The mountains rose up in the distance. I walked across glacial-fed streams with waters gushing past, filled with fine silt from the melting ice. The water, minus the silt, was 99% pure. Across New Zealand, we would drink water directly from mountain streams.
     
    Our room faced Mt. Cook – or so we were told. It would be a stunning view, if only we could see the mountain (the Maori word for Mt. Cook translates as “cloud piercer”). The mountain is only visible one out of three days. And the next morning, there it was. I woke to sunlight streaming into the room with clear, blue sky filling the window. It took a minute to register that there was a soaring mountain peak there – just there. Beautiful. I photographed it every few minutes as the light changed the snow-covered peak from white to orange to pink. Clouds roll in quickly so we soaked up the view for as long as it lasted. It was invisible by noon. But the weather was beautiful for our boat excursion to the Tasman Glacier. After a walk through an adjacent valley, we came to the lake that was created – only 30+ years ago – by the retreating glacier. The water was the same murky gray from silt as the streams. But we were in luck. When the earthquake rocked Christchurch, the tremors also shook loose a chunk of the glacier. In fact, 30 million tons of