Met at the airport by our hosts for 3 days, Chris and Marilyn. Went straight into Christchurch for our first 'trim flat white' coffee. We were completely thrown by the devastation. The earthquake was headline news for a few days all over the world but what we don't see is the ongoing impact on whole communities that are still suffering the aftermath 9 months later. The central shopping centre was completely cordoned off and all the shops and businesses had relocated in out of town and into suburban shopping malls.
The city council and the retailers have come up with a really creative way of trying to persuade people back into the city centre. They have brought containers like you see on cargo ships, painted them funky colours and stacked them up randomly to create coffee shops and retail outlets. As well as looking modern and attractive they also give a sense of security which is pretty critical after living through around 9150 aftershocks since September 4th, 2010 which was the earthquake preceding the biggy on February 22nd. And that is just up to today. Apparently there has been one since we have been here. Fortunately it was only just over 2 on the Richter scale so it skipped our attention.Chris and Marilyn had planned a car trip to Akaroa on the Banks Peninsula for our second day. On the way out to Akaroa Chris pointed out parts of the road which was damaged by the earthquakes. As well as physical damage, there were huge mounds of sand everywhere which had been left behind from the liquefaction - liquid that rose to the surface during the 'quakes. Apparently this caused major problems especially with the clearing up. Many of the housing estates still had porta-loos at the end of the street as the sewerage systems were still not working.
The drive to Akaroa was beautiful and took us over hills that reminded us of Wales or The Lakes.
Akaroa, originally a French settlement, is situated on a long fjord. New Zealanders seem a very hardy race, especially the young. Despite being decidedly chilly to us, there lots of locals in short sleeves and shorts.
The following day we set off on our own, taking the train to Kaikora which is north of Christchurch, the place Helen and Beth describe as their favourite place on earth. The single track train cut through hillsides and wound past stunning countryside;. Just before getting to Kaikora, the train stopped and there just happened to be dolphins playing in the surf quite close to the shore. Looking further out, we could see three whale-watch boats circling round. While we watched, a whale's tail appeared out of the water; a fleeting glance but definitely there.
We decided against the whale watching boat experience given Tony's reoccurring vertigo and the 'likelihood of seasickness' warnings at the desk. We set off to walk to the seal colony three miles or so out of town. As we got closer to the colony, we passed the site of the old jetty and there, tucked into a corner was a fur seal having a kip. So excited - first seal Tony had seen close up! Walking on further, we were able to walk out onto the rocks and there were seals all over the place. Great lumps of brown blubber just snoozing the day away amidst all the camera-toting tourists. Apart from one who showed his obvious displeasure at having his beauty sleep disturbed, the seals seemed as though they couldn't care less about the tourists. Walking back, stopped for lunch at a shack selling crayfish. Another first and delicious!
A long hike back saw us back in town in search of a beer and free Internet. Went into the pub that Beth frequented for yet another drink before heading back to the train. A great day out with lots of firsts.
Next day we said goodbye to our kind and generous hosts and left Christchurch heading for Dunedin. Five hour bus journey down State Highway 1, South Island's main road north to south. Other than passing places where an extra lane is introduced for a couple of km, the road is just two lanes all the way. Motorway? Who needs one? The first part of the journey across the Canterbury Plain south of Christchurch was unremarkable but the scenery improved as we drove south. Met by Johnny, an old friend of Tony's at the bus depot. Apart from some extra pounds around the middle and neck and less hair (probably exactly what he thought of Tony), he hasn't changed a bit; still the same old Johnny. Met his wife Linda for the first time; she is Director of the Otago Settler's Museum in Dunedin and she is lovely.
Their current home is in Port Chalmers which is one of the 2 working ports of Dunedin. They live in a Bach just out of town set in its own pretty valley. We stayed in their shed which was really quite comfortable.
Johnny and Linda took us north of Dunedin to see the Moriaki Boulders. Initially couldn't see the appeal of a bunch of boulders on a beach but we soon changed our minds. The boulders were round and partly buried in the sand. Some of them are almost 2m in diameter and they lie partially submerged in the beach and are surrounded by water when the tide comes in. The Maori believed they had been washed ashore from the wreck of a canoe. Strange as it sounds, they were quite magical. Lunch was at a great spot called Fleur's in a wooden building by the side of a small fishing harbour. Really good fish chowder plus bottle of Emerson's 1812 beer. Mmmm mmmm.
Saturday night and what else is there to do but go to a party. Went to the house of a musician friend of John's and drank.
Plans for the next day included a trip round the museum which Linda runs, tour of Dunedin city and a run out to the end of the Otago Peninsula on the other side of the sound to see penguins. The museum is being refurbished so not open but, being the director, Linda had the key so we got a sneak preview. Would love to come back when it's finished. Dunedin is a great city founded by Scottish settlers during the gold rush. Mixture of downbeat New Zealand and downbeat Edinburgh with impressive Gothic limestone architecture and big villas on hills. Looks like a city worth spending a bit more time around. Highlights beside the museum were the Railway Station with its glorious Royal Dalton tiled foyer and the Chinese Gardens.
Driving out to see the penguins it looked like it would pour down. But, as we have found in this part of the world, the weather is really localised and changeable so we stood on the beach in glorious sunshine and looked inland to black, oppressive clouds over the hills. Getting down to the beach involved sliding down massive sand dunes and collecting shoes full of sand. Worth it though because we got to see four rare Yellow Eyed penguins plus a seal waddling up the beach not too far away. A truly breathtaking spot with wind-whipped Pacific waves rolling onto pristine sands.
Next day we were moving on south from Dunedin. We had planned to take a bus but John offered to drive us there with a bit of bonus sightseeing on the way. Headed out of Dunedin on SH1 for a while then turned off on to the Scenic Route along the Caitlin's Coast, a dramatic shoreline with endless rocky beaches backed by hills covered with native forest. First real sightseeing stop was Nugget Point where we walked out along a headland past seals low down by the sea and arrived at a breathtaking spot under the lighthouse looking out over the ocean. What the guidebooks don't tell you is how smelly seals are. You can smell them way before you can see them. On again for a short while to McLean waterfalls. In themselves, they weren't that spectacular but seeing them in the wild bush made the short walk worthwhile. So much of New Zealand has been cleared by European settlers to create vast expanses of grassland cultivated to support the dairy industry that there is less and less of the magnificent native bush left. So when we see some we get very excited. The sun was shining and creating beautiful dappled patterns through the trees and ferns. Next stop was Caitlin's Lake, again reached by walking through wild bush with majestic ferns and trees. Final stop was Curio Bay famous for the petrified trees which stick out of the beach. Just as we turned to head back to the van, John whispered "Behind you" in a very theatrical way. We turned to see a Yellow Eyed penguin standing on a rock; it had just popped out of the sea and was no more than 15m away. We spent 25 mesmerised minutes watching the bird preen its feathers and then waddle and hop its way up the beach towards the nest in the scrub behind the sand. The chicks obviously knew Dad was back because they started screeching as he got close.
Finally arrived in Invacargill around 4:15. Found the Railway Hotel, dropped bags off and headed for a coffee. Invercargill was already shut! Had to swallow principles and go into Starbucks - sorry. Said farewell to Johnny. Like Chris and Marilyn, he and Linda had been more than generous with their time as well as giving us somewhere to stay, food, drink and transport.
Next day spent around Invercargill town. Odd place. An excellent museum and park but the rest of the town is pretty sad. Quite a few boarded or empty shops and an overall feel of depression. Not a place to head for unless on the way to the ferry from Bluff to Stewart Island.
Caught said ferry and despite all the horror stories about crossing the Foveaux Straight, it was not a bad crossing although Tony's vertigo kicked in almost immediately.
Found our B&B place and settled in. Run by a couple called Jo and Andy, it is possibly the most cluttered space ever seen. Vast collections of books everywhere and quirky ornaments and knick-knacks on ever surface. Originally from Boysee, Idaho (love that name!), Andy is funny, chilled and very much the hillbilly, even down to the checked shirt and braces.
Ate in the one pub and discovered the delights of Blue Cod: fantastic fish! Freshly caught and so soft and succulent. Hopefully not the last piece.
Stewart Island is as far south as you can go before hitting Antarctica. It is New Zealand's third island and yet it has a population of less than 400. There are only 28km of roads, all of which are around the single settlement, Oban. As we were told on arrival, there is basically one of everything - one store, one pub, one place serving coffee, one mechanic, one nurse, one policeman ... The rest of the island is accessible only by air, foot or sea; there is no farming and the main commercial activity is fishing, tourism and conservation. It is a truly unspoilt and magical place. Often, all you can hear is the sound of birdsong (and the rain).
Next morning we walked around to get our bearings and then, in the afternoon, took a bus tour round the bits of the Island reached by road. Saw the southern most house in NZ. The coastline and beaches are stunning. Would be a fantastic place to have a boat! Guide was a young woman called Leah who, as well as knowing her stuff about the Island and it's flora and fauna, was full of interesting asides. She told us about the Island copper who, from the sound of it, has to be the most laid back Constable ever. Leah has an old, beat up Land Rover which, by her own admission, has not had the necessary safety/road check for some time. Last week, she found a note on her windscreen from the aforementioned PC to suggest that she had taken the mick for long enough now and if she wouldn't mind, could she do something about it soon; sorry to be a pain; signed, Dale. Apparently when he goes on holiday, he leaves a list of miscreants so that rent-a-cop who comes in to cover gets to nab all the naughty ones; that way, Dale doesn't have to fall out with the locals!
A night of rain. Apparently the Islanders were pleased because it meant that their water tanks would be replenished after a prolonged period of dry weather. They use rain water for everything, including drinking. When the rain eased a little we walked around the coast and discovered yet more pristine empty beaches and ended the day with a fabulous meal in a hilltop restaurant by the Presbyterian Church. Chowder to start (which was the best I have ever tasted) and then stone grilled fish platter. Thought this meant it was cooked on a stone grill but, no, it came raw on a seriously hot flat stone and it cooked while we ate. Shame I didn't realise this straight away as I wouldn't have eaten a raw scallop!
And so back to the mainland. Ferry back to Bluff and then by bus to Queenstown. We were both sad to be leaving Stewart Island which is a really magical place. The colours, the birds and the coastline are indescribably beautiful. Everyone is so friendly and the pace of life slow. A great illustration of this was the woman selling tickets for the ferry. While she was serving us she turned to her colleague on the other till who must have been new, and said "Now you can see how hectic and crazy it can get". We looked around and counted 24 people! There is very little to do here apart form chill. Truly one of the most exceptional places either of us have ever been. Ferry was ok with the occasional lumpy bits.
We have tried to do as much of this trip as possible by public transport. One thing which has stood out so far in New Zealand has been the excellent public transport arrangements. All of the buses connect; the drivers are really nice and very helpful - they know regulars by first name; and they seem to go just where you need them to go. Plus, when they stop for a break, they always stop at good coffee places!
Most of the journey was in the rain but it was still possible to tell that we were heading into stunning mountain land. Our logistical abilities were beaten in trying to plan a trip up the remote West Coast by publication transport so we arrived in Queenstown to collect a car. Tony forced to agree with Helen about her description of the place as an adrenaline junkies paradise: every shop is either selling outdoor gear or trying to seduce you to part with dollars in return for risking life and limb on the end of a string of latex, screaming down rivers or breaking any number of bones one way or another. Glad to say we got the car very easily and left (not before Tony experiencing the joys of a steak and cheese pie though!).
Drove south once again this time heading for Te Anau, a quiet lakeside town that is the very opposite of Queenstown. In the evenings there are hardly any people or cars around but the mornings bring an influx of tourists who jump on coaches and mini buses off to see the southern fjords and sounds.
Next morning we were picked up early for our day trip to Doubtful Sound. We had chosen to go with Fiordland Cruises rather than Real Travel because it saved us $60+ each. The first coach told us why! None of the flash colours and cosseted luxury of Real Travel; no, this one was plain white, old and driven by a grumpy woman who was the wife of the the guy running the trip and the business (more on her grumpiness later ...). As it turned out, we couldn't have made a better choice: low key, smaller numbers and very personal.
The first bus took us to the edge of the lake at Manapouri where we transferred to a boat to take us across the lake. Our guide kept up a continuous commentary about the lake and surrounding area including a fascinating insight into the bush which clung precariously to the slopes which plunge into the lake. The trees grow in very little soil and stay there courtesy of intertwined roots. Trouble with this as a system is that when one goes, they all go and the hillsides were dotted with scars where there had been tree slides. When the trees fall, they leave behind bare rock but this is soon covered with lichens. Once these are established, a layer of moss grows over the top and this provides sufficient growing medium for trees to take root. As these trees start to grow, they shed leaves which become the new layer of 'soil' for the trees to grow in. Hey presto: from bare rock to established bush in less than ten years. Amazing. Also told us how deer hunting had changed over the years. Deer introduced by settlers as food but eventually became a problem so hunting encouraged. Everything ok until helicopters came on the scene. Meant that deer could easily be spotted and shot which led to a rapid decline so hunting with guns from helicopters banned. Ever resourceful, the hunters came up with a new way to earn a living: bulldogging. Put simply, it involved chasing a deer until it was exhausted then dropping low enough over the animal for the hunter to leap out of the helicopter onto the deer's back (hopefully) and wrestle it to the ground. Crazy but lucrative at up to $3000 a deer. Unfortunately, too many bulldoggers killed so practice banned. Mad!
At the far end of the lake is the Manapouri hydro-electric power station. Our guide took us by coach down a 2km tunnel to the power station machine room where the generators are. All in all an amazing piece of engineering seeing as how everything was drilled and blasted by hand. Helen not too keen being that far underground - kept looking up and mentioning earthquakes and all the rock above our heads. Still, she had the nerve to go down. Next leg a 20km bus ride over the Wilkie Pass to Deep Cove, the start of Doubtful sound. Transferred to a bigger boat which took us the length of the Sound, 40 km to the Tasman Sea. Gobsmackingly beautiful with high peaks all around and the occasional waterfall. Hard to describe the experience. The final viewing point before turning round was a large rock which is the home to 500 Fur Seals. It was amazing because the skipper took the boat right up close to the rock and you could almost touch (and smell) the seals. A fantastic day out.
On talking to the skipper on the way back he asked how we found his wife, the coach driver. Apparently she upsets a lot of the guests. It turns out the reason for her grumpiness is the fact that she had major surgery as a result of a riding accident and they removed half of her brain! According to her husband, this caused a huge change in her personality. She wasn't grumpy then, just saying what she thought!
Today took us by car from Te Anau to Kinloch, our home for the night. The only low spot of the day was having to go once again through Queenstown because the rest of the drive was spectacular. Beyond Q'town towards Glenorchy the road is described somewhere as the most scenic drive in the world. Always wary of grand claims but this road must be well near the top of any list. Huge lake, stark hillsides and, in the distance, majestic snow-capped peaks. Breathtaking.
On through Glenorchy the road turned into a gravel surface heading, seemingly to nowhere. Quick phone call told us we were on the right road, "keep going and you can't miss us" ... we did. Neither of us had thought to check the name of the place and we drove on past. Turned out to be a great place right by the lake. You guessed it: magical! Really good evening meal accompanied by a couple of bottled beers and then an excellent Pinot Gris. All served by a charming young English guy whose girlfriend turned out to be the cook (lucky guy!). Only low spot of the evening was the pesky sand flies; they really are nasty little varmints. Helen has had to add these to the list of things she gets an allergic reaction to.
Kinloch to Makarori. Yet another contender for scenic drive of the year. Once again Queenstown appeared as a blight but it did give us the chance to get anti-histamine for Helen and a Ferg Burger for me (thanks Beth!). Stopped by the Shotover River to eat the burgers and saw the jet boat scream by. Seemed too much like a fairground ride to me but Helen was itching to have a go. Fabulous cross-country road led us down to Waneka. Nice place. Sleep by lake, large ice cream and on to Makarori.
Yet more "oh my God", "wow", "just look at that" driving and we ended up at the lodge for the night. Really nice quiet place with great mountain views.
Big drive day: Makarori north to Punakaiki, some 460km. Highlights of a long day: seeing Fox Glacier; good coffee and almost-view of Mt Tasman/Mt Cook at Lake Matheson; bambi burger at the Bushmans Cafe (aka Road Kill Cafe); endless stretches of tarmac. Even less conversation in the car than usual as Helen slept most of the way. Must have been a reaction to the really nasty sand fly bites she was suffering from.
The hostel was just north of Punakaiki and in an idyllic spot. Nestled in among rainforest, it was a collection of lodges and a main hostel building. Almost perfect but for the lack of easy-use bathroom facilities. We found a small track which said 'To the beach'. Followed the track through the usual rain forest /bush and found ourselves on the most amazing beach with sandstone stacks just off the beach and a huge undercut platform which showed what the sea can really do. Today was pretty calm but there must have been some pretty big waves to remove that much rock.
Woken early by a young German woman Skyping on the hostel computer and seemingly keen for the whole of the West coast to hear her conversation. Ok so half seven isn't that early but on a day when there was no need to get up, it's pretty annoying. Helen quickly remembered why she didn't like hostels with young people in them. Made the most of the forced wake-up call to go to Pancake Rocks at high tide. Amazing rock formations with thin layers of limestone literally pancaked one of top of the other. At high tide, waves are forced up huge blow holes making an eerie noise. Stunning as this was, we both agreed that our little local beach was better. At least our beach didn't have coach loads of tourist shutter-clicking their way round the views. Grumpy grumpy ...
Short distance to next hostel just north of Charlestown so decided to drive the 100km north to the end of the road at Karamea. This is as far north as you can go by car on the West Coast. The map showed a straight road so shouldn't take too long we thought. Wrong! The road twisted and turned through high hills and passes and we both thought we were lost. Worth it though for the most spectacular isolated beach that stretched as far as the eye could see. Other highlight: whitebait pattie sandwich which was a cross between fish fingers and a whitebait tortilla between two slices of thin white bread. Only thing missing was tomato ketchup!
Home for the night an Eco lodge recommended by the Rangecrofts. This is it; we have been searchIng for the perfect place and we found it here. Isolated, run by the friendliest Kiwi and just perfect in every way, except for the sandflies. No wonder they score high 90s in the BBH member polls. A really good night. Just sat around chatting, feeling really relaxed. This hostel had a very different feel to it; not sure what but great. Lovely story regarding owner and his wife. She is American and was married to Grae's (the lodge owner) best friend. The friend died and, to cut a long story short, love reared it's head and the lodge owner and the widow married and seem to be living happily ever after.
There were lots of reasons why the lodge was considered Eco-friendly. Helen's favourite was the long drop toilets where you sprinkled sawdust after using the facilities. Simple they may have been but basic they were not. The tiling was superior to the poshest of toilets. Tony's favourite was the coconut husk mattress. The rested look on his face when we met up at breakfast told me before he did that the hard bed had given his knackered back some respite after nights sleeping on saggy beds.
Eco lodge to Murchison. First stop Jack's Gasthaf mentioned in both the RG and the Eco lodge as a good coffee stop. Next the seal colony further up the coast and a walk along the cliff top. Superb! As ever, fab views and beaches and a chance to stretch legs. Stood watching seals at play for a while which was fun. Seals of all ages from very little to big daddies, either lolloping across the rocks or playing in the surf or just sleeping. Wouldn't mind being a seal next time around ...
The Lazy Cow at Murchison was our hostel for the night. Nice place run by a Worzel and a Scouser. Quick tour of Murchison revealed not a lot: two cafes, one small supermarket of the expensive variety and one pub. Still, we hit on the one night of the year when there was some live music although after the second of four bands we rather wish we hadn't and tried to have an early night. Unfortunately we could still hear the bands and the townsfolk who had all come out for the social highlight of the summer.
Murchison to Nelson. Finally began to leave the big hills and remoteness behind. Closer we got to Nelson the more commercial surroundings became; first farms then the inevitable 'units' by the roadside. Dave and Helen had skipped Nelson on their first visit, put off by the busy urban feel to it after the relative solitude of the West Coast. However others, including Beth, said they had missed out. They proved to be right. Once you got past the out of town modern suburban shopping centres, Nelson city centre was a good place to be and it moved to the top of our list of favourite South Island cities. Saw first hand the aftermath of the floods they had experienced. Everywhere you looked on the hillsides, there were landslips. Our arrival coincided with the re opening of Rock Road, the main road out of the city which had been closed since the flooding just after Christmas. All along the road there were concrete barriers plus containers full of stone, chained together in case it slipped again. Apparently, the housing at the top is some of the most expensive in Nelson; just shows that money can't buy security as many of them have been condemned. Tony found the best pint of beer so far in NZ in a converted church building called The Free House. Highly recommend. Overall, Nelson scored high on our 'best of' rating; cosmopolitan, friendly, fun (bright sunshine did help).
Nelson-Picton-Wellington. Another quality drive from Nelson to Picton, particularly the bit from Havelock onwards where the Queen Charlotte Drive road hugs first Pelorus Sound and then Queen Charlotte Sound. Once again, indescribable beauty at every turn of the road.
Picton a surprise for Tony. Not the commercial port town he had been expecting; more an ok smallish town that just happens to be a ferry terminal. Sitting at the head of stunning Sound and glorious sunshine certainly helps.
The Cook Straight crossing has quite a reputation. The Rough Guide suggests that travellers should check the cancellation policy details and advises that most car rental companies won't allow their cars on the ferries. Hmmmmm ... The Shaws had done the crossing previously in a force 9 and so Helen was watching the sea state with some trepidation as the time for departure grew nearer. No need to worry though because, despite it being quite windy, we had the flattest of crossings. A contender for the most stunning ferry journey ever. We wound our way through the Sound, out into The Cook Straight and then into Wellington harbour; all in glorious sunshine. Good job the crossing was flat as we spent the open sea part of it wrapping Christmas presents!
