Enter the idea of a "special" trip. Why not just fly over to Milford? So we did in one of these 
things depicted to the right. Okay, let's not dwell too much on the cost. If it makes anyone feel any better, going by helicopter is twice the price but we really couldn't afford a second mortgage on the house at our age. Combine a noisy 8-seater tin can with rugged mountain peaks and an itsy bitsy bit of turbulence and you come up with more than enough adventure for a boy of my age. A tight spiral down in between the mountains brought us next door to the harbour and a nice stable, feet on the ground (but far windier) tour of the fjord by boat. Unlike most people's experience of Milford, the whole trip was conducted in bright sunshine, although we 
were surrounded by an unusual bout of sea fog once we reached open sea. At least, I assume it was open sea; I really couldn't see much apart from the school of bottle nosed dolphins who, presumably, were employed by the New Zealand coastguard to prevent us from crashing at the foot of the 1,600-odd metres of Mt. Mitre which tended to loom out at us whenever the fog lifted. The boat's captain rounded off the tour by encouraging everyone to come out on deck to see the basking sea lions (I don't think they were real although they twitched a bit on the rocks - Disney animatronics I suspect) and then manoeuvring his boat under a waterfall. How we laughed as we dried off.
things depicted to the right. Okay, let's not dwell too much on the cost. If it makes anyone feel any better, going by helicopter is twice the price but we really couldn't afford a second mortgage on the house at our age. Combine a noisy 8-seater tin can with rugged mountain peaks and an itsy bitsy bit of turbulence and you come up with more than enough adventure for a boy of my age. A tight spiral down in between the mountains brought us next door to the harbour and a nice stable, feet on the ground (but far windier) tour of the fjord by boat. Unlike most people's experience of Milford, the whole trip was conducted in bright sunshine, although we 
were surrounded by an unusual bout of sea fog once we reached open sea. At least, I assume it was open sea; I really couldn't see much apart from the school of bottle nosed dolphins who, presumably, were employed by the New Zealand coastguard to prevent us from crashing at the foot of the 1,600-odd metres of Mt. Mitre which tended to loom out at us whenever the fog lifted. The boat's captain rounded off the tour by encouraging everyone to come out on deck to see the basking sea lions (I don't think they were real although they twitched a bit on the rocks - Disney animatronics I suspect) and then manoeuvring his boat under a waterfall. How we laughed as we dried off.The airplane trip back was via a different route over different mountains and glaciers but still had its moments. I did try videoing snapshots but the playback is a bit jerky to say the least. Predictably, having been returned to Queenstown main square at around 6 o'clock in the evening, we celebrated a great "special" trip and our new-found poverty over a few cold ones as the sun set over the Southern Alps. Ahhh!
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