When I left you hanging last month, dear reader, my wife and I and Kiwi flight instructor Matt McCaughan had just taken a Cessna 172 on a tight, slow flight circuit around a cloud-scraped, rock-walled thimble of an alpine lake in New Zealand, exiting with a rakish wingover down the enormous 2,000-foot waterfall cascading from its outlet. This was the fourth or fifth stunning sight in just the first two hours of a planned weeklong flying tour of the country’s South Island with FlyInn, McCaughan’s self-fly vacation operation.
Describing these two hours required three pages crammed with significantly more words than my usual monthly allotment, and yet I promised to cover the balance of the tour in a single additional installment.
