Saturday 21st February 2017

We are on our way back to the North Island, having had a fantastic time in the South but looking forward to getting back to Raya. Sitting on the Interislander Ferry I finally have time to catch up to date with the blog.

Wednesday as we drove through the  Hass Pass towards the West Coast the clouds thickened, the rain started and the biting sand flies came out. We pushed on, this was one of the longest drives of the trip and the conditions discouraged us from stopping more than necessary, even if the rain eased up as soon as we opened the door the pesky biting flies were on us in seconds.

The West Coast is a thin strip of land that runs nearly the whole length of the Island sandwiched between the Tasman Sea on one side and the Southern Alps on the other. Except for the odd glance we could see neither, the first part of the road was cosseted by high banks of ferns and moss covered rocks. If a couple of pixies had appeared from the undergrowth they would have seemed completely at home. Instead of pixies we passed a young Chinese couple, their car very much stuck in the ditch. We had had no phone signal for hours even in the small town of Hass where we had stopped briefly for lunch, we had past very few cars, so we put on our hero hats turned around and drove them the half hour back to town so they could organise a tow.

Finally we reached our lodge in Okarito, a wetland area famous for its bird life. Unfortunately, our rescue mission had meant we had missed the low tide that reveals the mud flats that attract the birds but the rain had stopped and I enjoyed a walk along the beach that was made up of the most wonderful pebbles. With the pale grey of the beach, the darker grey of the sea and the bleached white of the strewn driftwood, all bathed in the low hazy light of the early evening it was as if all the colour had been washed out of the world. The scene was surprisingly restful, if slightly stark.

It has to be said that the lodge here was also rather stark. Little more than a metal clad wooden shack, it was nicely decorated in places but it was as if someone had stopped the process a third of the way through. The advertised ” wake up to wetland and forest views ” was only true if you happened to wake up stood peering out of the small corner window at the other end of the room. Luckily the bed was comfortable, the shower large and all was clean and tidy.

The next morning we continued our drive north on State Highway 6, stopping for a coffee with some old friends from Cranbrook who we had discovered would, bizarrely, be driving the same road, at the same time but south, as we have experienced before this is a small world. As the day wore on, the sun fought through the haze and the road became more exciting, climbing around headlines, dropping into valleys and often clinging to the very edge of the coast.

We stopped to admire the Pancake rocks, a headland composed of layered sandstone and mudstone. The softer mudstone has corroded away more quickly than the sandstone leaving rocky stacks that look a bit like piles of pancakes

Finealy Thursday afternoon we reached Blenheim our final stop on the South Island. This is Marlborough wine country and you know you have arrived because suddenly every acre of suitable land is planted with vines, rows and rows and rows of them. 

 But before exploring the vineyards we headed out to the aviation museum. A large collection of restored and replica first and second world war planes. Another superb New Zealand museum, each aircraft was shown along side personal stories from the airmen who had flown them and many of them had been displayed like film sets with figures and props made by the Weta Cave Studios.

Culture requirements ticked we head for the wine trail, each vineyard has a cellar door open for tasting and it is easy to drop into one after another, a bit like a posh pub crawl. Between the familiar names of Cloudy Bay and Stoneliegh are smaller boutique producers and it was these we selected to visit. We had a great few hours trying out everything from the  Sauvignon Blanc this area is famous for, through a few reds, half a dozen sparkling wines to my current favourite crisp dry Riesling. We were very restrained the car boarded the ferry only a couple of boxes of wine heavier than our crossing a few weeks ago.

Tuesday 14th February 2017

As I said in my last post, seemingly at every turn in New Zealand there is an amazing vista 

And some are especially amazing 

But today we came over the brow of a hill and swept around a bend to the view to challenge all views.

We set off Saturday morning south towards Murchison and on to Brunner Lake. This is logging country and the steep hillsides are lined with pines, areas of cut trees scar the otherwise rich scenery. Cutting through the hills are deep canyons worn by fast flowing rivers, impressive even at this time of year, the vast dry river beds indicated how powerful they must be during times of high rainfall. The Buller is one such mighty river and like the rest of the area has a history of gold prospecting, early in the twentieth century a daring plan was implemented to build a bridge to reach the untouched potentially gold rich rocks on the opposite bank. The longest swingbridge in New Zealand it’s modern version is a tourist attraction.

We woke the next morning to drizzle and temperatures of just 11 C. We were crossing the Southern Alps driving through Arthur’s Pass and as we approached the mountains loomed threateningly through the gloom. Somehow the scenery still delivered, the pines had been replaced now by native mountain beech, the tops of the mountain above the tree line was of sheer grey rock and the valleys rough browning grassland. The road climbed steeply to its highest point of 920m before dropping down more slowly towards the east coast following wide winding river valleys. 

As we descended the weather began to improve and we decided to stop off to explore the huge sandstone boulders at Castle Hill. Reminiscent of Stonehenge, these were natural artefacts of the areas mountain building past. Up close they were much bigger than we appreciated, they were great fun to clamber round and very photogenic.

As the weather had dissuaded us from stopping at the top of Authurs Pass we had a bit of extra time and decided to take a detour into Christchurch. We were surprised to see the centre of town is still in ruins from the large earthquake that hit the city six years ago. It was sad to see the extensive damage and continued deterioration of the Cathedral and surrounding old buildings, it appears that wrangling between the Church and the City council has led to years of inaction.

We have spent the last two days back in the Southern Alps and sorry to repeat myself but the scenery is just incredible. High plains of varied grasses and gorse like shrubs, backed by snow capped mountains, the tallest of which is Mount Cook at 3754m and punctuated by large lakes created by the damming for hydroelectric power of the many rivers flowing out of the mountains. If that wasn’t enough theses lakes are a remarkable blue, a result of ‘rock flour’ – finely ground particles of rock brought down by the glaciers and suspended in the melt water. After the clouds of yesterday we woke to a view of Lake Tekapo with Mount Cook in the distance.

Todays plan was to walk right up in the mountains. We drove around another ridiculously turquoise lake, Lake Pukaki, oohing and aahing as the peaks came closer and closer, up to the base of Mount Cook. 

The weather in the mountains is very unpredictable, we had a glorious morning, chilly but bright and sunny, in the thirty minutes it took us to walk towards the Glacial lake that feeds the Tasman River, however, the clouds had descended and the rain started. We took a few pictures of the icebergs that break from the glaciers in summer, zipped up our waterproof jackets and headed back to the car. Much fitter and braver people than us walk for days on the tracks that crisscross these mountains, wet and cold we felt like we had experienced a miniscucle bit of their adventures.

Wednesday 8th February 2017

We entered Rotorua feeling a little jaded, it had been a long day, but our apartment was nice and we had the prospect of the Polynesian spa that sat on the lake front, to look forward to. Rotorua town didn’t tick the boxes for us, very new, obviously built with tourism in mind, it lacked soul. Our spirits dropped further as we entered the spa, the foyer was crowed with people and was rather tacky, the feeling of uncleanliness not enhanced by the sulphur smell emanating from the volcanic hot pools. We hastily paid to upgrade to the ‘luxury ‘ experience but luxury wasn’t really what came to mind. The pools were hot and would have been relaxing had they not been so full of people, the lake views were minimal and the closeness of the swalking seagulls slightly disconcerting . We stayed for half an hour put the expense down to experience and rapidly retreated back to our apartment. The tourists in Rotorua seemed to be mostly Chinese, viewing New Zealand in tour buses, we planned our next day around where we thought the tour buses might not venture.

The main attraction of Rotorua is its geothermal activity, most of the parks feature geysers that go off in the mornings, so hoping to do what everyone else wasn’t, first thing we headed for the Redwood forest. We were treated to a relatively empty walk through the trees but this wasn’t an ordinary walk, here they have strung an elevated walkway 12m up through the mighty Redwood pines. Way above us we had the spreading green canopy of the redwoods, below we had the forest floor covered in shrubs and ferns and at eye level we had the incredible, fiborous bark of the massive Redwood trunks and the vivid green tops of the black tree ferns.

Each platform and walkway is suspended by cables and straps around the largest of the trees, no nails or other destructive methods have been used in its construction. Rick took mental notes, the design of his next tree house taking shape in his mind. Surprisingly these huge trees, unlike their Calfornian cousins that take thousands of years to reach their large size, are fast growing and only a hundred years old, planted  by the growing demand for timber at the turn of the century.

Next we moved on to Orakei Korako, a geothermal park 70k from Rotorua and hopefully not teeming with people. The drive itself was worth the trip, the day was clear and sunny and the landscape etched by its volcanic history, fascinated us. In between the large ranges of hills were areas full of steep sided perfectly conical hillocks, we speculated without conclusion how they may have been formed.

We drove into a half empty car park and let out a silent cheer. In front of us was a tranquil lake, created in the valley by the damming of the Waikato river, all around were lush forested hills and on the opposite bank was the white silica terrace. The silica terrace has formed over thousands of years by chemically saturated, hot ground water gushing to the surface and running into the valley, it sat like a scar in the otherwise picture perfect setting.

The afternoon had become hot and the walk around the terraces, bubbling pools and native bush was often steep but it was very much worth the effort. A fascinating afternoon to end a great day.

Monday morning we headed south for Wellington on the very bottom of the North Island and a six hour drive. The volcanic experience peaks, literally, as you past Tongariro park. The tallest of the three mountains, Ruapehu, incongruously in the near 30 degree heat of the plain, is still topped with snow, while Ngauruhoe, that at times still vents super heated gases, is the perfect image of a volcano

We found a side road and stopped for today’s cup of tea with a view.

Unfortunately as we approached Wellington the weather began to close in and we entered Wellington in the drizzle, the wind had turned to the south and the temperatures dropped ten degrees. We got the impression that it was probably a handsome city with its long waterfront area and pretty Victorian terrace houses perched in the surrounding hills but it was difficult to be sure through the dank gloom.

A good indoor attraction was what was needed and we weren’t disappointed by the To Papa museum. It has to be the best museum we have ever visited. Full of colourful, informative exhibitions covering New Zealand’s geography, wildlife and social history., we spent four hours with our sore feet the only sign we had been there so long. The most absorbing section was a special exhibition about New Zealand’s role in the disaster that was the battle for Gallipoli in the First World War. The story was incredibly well told, concentrating on personal accounts from the time and illustrated by actual artefacts and unbelievable larger than life models of the individuals whose narrative we were following. Created by the Weta Caves Studio that produced the special effects for the Lord of the Rings and Hobbit movies the detail was amazing from the accuracy of the clothing to the hairs and wrinkles on the hands and faces. An extremely moving experience that really bought home the futility of many of the First World War battles, in fact the futility of all battles in all wars.

Today we have arrived in Picton in the South Island after the ferry ride across from Wellington, unfortunately the weather is still bad so there wasn’t much chance to appreciate the scenery as we came in. Forecast to improve tomorrow, fingers crossed.