Month: January 2019

The next morning my computer packed it in, disallowing us to share our throbbing excitement on this blog (such a gruesome name: blog). But after returning to what a number of Kiwis referred to as ‘New Zealand’s most western island’, we had it patched up by a clever nerdy fella and so here it is…

Our drive back to Christchurch took us through much of the central spine of NZ, the long Southern Alps, as we zig zagged to and fro. There were two main objectives on what was to be our final days of driving: see central Christchurch’s buildings and to see as much of that glorious mountain range as possible.

The weather cleared a bit, the powerful wind gusts still threatened to lift the unwary off their feet but the Sun kept peeking through the shifting clouds. As we drove out of Twizzle (actually Twizel) we caught fleeting glimpses of the sharp tip of Mt Cook in the distance, sheer white faces that cut through the mists and pointed symmetrically to the blue atmosphere above.

The roads that the amazing Navigatrix located wound through enormous valleys and past roaring rivers, up crumbling dry and stark mountains then around the banks of high alpine lakes. She found a dusty dirt back road that meandered through tussocky scrublands that clung tenaciously to the fragile slopes, which then connected us up to the magnificent Arthur’s Pass.

The diversity of environments we encountered on that wonderful alpine drive had us cooing in awe. There was a wide variation from the flowing dry scree slopes of the eastern and central mountains to the mossy beech forests of the sharp western slopes, a dramatic change that transitioned over just a few short gullies.

Waterfalls abounded, thin streams tumbled over towering precipices to splash upon the mossy green rocks below. Everywhere were glorious views to indulge in as we stood shivering in the howling gales to appreciate the vistas spread out before us.

By the time we reached the west coast it was getting late so we searched for a lovely Airbnb that we had stayed at on the way through that region earlier in our trip. Unfortunately something happened with the booking and when we showed up it turned out that we had booked for the NEXT night. Luckily the lovely host put us up in another room (she actually vacated her own bed for us) and we had a comfortable stay anyway.

The return trip the next morning over Arthur’s Pass was all clouded in and rainy until we reached the drier central region, but we pushed on to get to the city of Christchurch in time to check out the sights. In that busy hub there were large amounts of reconstruction going on following the big earthquake a few years previously, but we found a restaurant where live music played and I had my last expensive Kiwi beer ($10 a glass it is there! No wonder you don’t see any public drunkenness!).

The botanical gardens were an exquisite treat to wander about in, the gates shut at sunset (9:00 pm) so we ambled about looking at the lovely cold climate flowers and gorgeous twisted old tree trunks. The big old redwoods and sequoias were quite impressive.

The long flight back to NZ’s western-most island began in the wee hours of the next morning.

We adored the South Island of New Zealand – the scenery was amazingly fantabulously incredibly beautiful and all of the people we encountered were warm and friendly and welcoming. Georgie even convincingly stated that it’s her new favourite place (apart from the sand flies) and she could definitely live there – well… in the summer anyway!

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Soon after publishing yesterday’s blog the Sun came out (at 8 o’clock at night!) and the clouds blew away revealing a full 360 degree panorama of mountains surrounding us. Despite the warm sunshine, the biting Antarctic wind whistled painfully around our ears and noses, a bleak reminder of that notorious Kiwi ‘wind chill factor’. All eateries were chockablock with customers as we wandered amongst the crowds of holiday makers there on the banks of Lake Wanaka, desperately searching for an evening feed. We eventually had to sit at an outdoor table and consume our quite-average meal from tin plates whilst rugged up tight from the icy wind.

To thaw our bones out we scurried back to our luxurious and very modern AirBnB in the suburbs for a magnificent long hot shower, and to snuggle up in the fabulously comfortable kingsize bed under a light feather doona.

This morning in the bright sunshine we meandered North towards Mt Cook. Once again we were surrounded by beautiful high mountains with glimpses of white stuff up high in some valleys, just as we like it. Whizzing past Twizzle (actually spelt Twizel) we thought that might be a good place to have a squizzle, but we continued on anyway towards those impressive mountains that towered in the distance, wanting get a bit of a wiggle on because some clouds were creeping in and threatening to occlude the view.

On the approach to Mt Cook we passed by an enormous turquoise lake, gleaming brightly in the sunlight. The milky blue colour comes from the powdered schist ground down by the glaciers, and this ‘rock flour’ gives the water a surreal hue that is very pretty to observe in such an enormous body of water.

Indeed, the small cold drops of rain began pelting at us, driven hard by the almost gale-force gusts of wind, thereby forming a very dramatic landscape. Georgie sensibly stayed sheltered in the warmth of the car whilst Rod recklessly wandered off in search of hidden gullies and alpine wonders.

The spongy wet ground-cover held far more than just mosses and ferns, there were multiple flowering and fruiting plants of mysterious forms, their berries all tasting quite palatable although this lad from the tropics was not brave enough to swallow any of those unknown fruits. With delightfully decorated mossy rocks and stunted beech forests in the foreground and enormous shadowed rock faces as a backdrop, the scenery had Rod in a state of bliss as he kept stumbling excitedly over new and fascinating plants.

The mountains began to reveal parts of themselves to us as the wind-driven clouds raced past their flanks. One moment a huge and dramatic sheet of ice would be seen reaching down a steep mountain side, then it was gone, enveloped in the swirling mists.

We drove around amazing roads with incredible views, stopping regularly to appreciate the immensity of it all. Rod walked up one steep hill to view the Tasman Glacier in the distance. If we had been here ten years before we could have been looking down on top of it, but like all of New Zealand’s glaciers it is retreating rapidly, about four kilometres every ten years.

Whilst Rod was scurrying about in the moss and beech trees, Georgie was doing a fine job of locating a place to ‘roll out the swag’ for the night. Delightfully she located a good AirBnB in Twizzle! Oh joy, we would get to have a sqizzle at Twizzle after all!

The weather had cleared by then, there was no drizzle, so we had a sizzle of a meal at the Twizzle pub, which was not a fizzle, we could not grizzle about it at all.

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We stayed in a grotty pub in a grotty town, but it was cheap so we are not complaining, even though the hot water took 12 minutes to reach the shower. The rain had closed in so the views were shrouded in clouds as we progressed North in the morning, choosing to take minor roads because that is often where we find the gems.

Small town craft shops, second hand stores and art galleries were our destinations today as the outdoors were a little bit too sodden and blowy for these two wussy tropical types. We chatted with friendly people and bought a few small nick-nacks here and there, Rod even picked up a wind-up fob watch fairly cheaply, and we found a chocolaterie where we gave in to our wicked urges and purchased some naughtiness.

We passed through diverse environments today, lush grazing country, stone-fruit orchards, dry rocky gorges and past some big lakes, all of which we viewed through the rain spattered wound-up windows.

We are gradually making our way back toward Christchurch through the central mountain region, hoping for a bit of sunshine tomorrow so we can enjoy the scenery. Goodness only knows what we may find!

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Today was a lovely day spent travelling through lovely country (and of course having sunshine really helped too), and we saw plenty of beautiful stuff. Even watching a sheep dog working a mob of freshly shorn sheep into a new paddock was a pleasure. Those gorgeous dogs are just so-o-o clever.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. The day began with a goodbye to our lovely host at the Manor, then we went in search of the vintage bike museum. Now THAT was a treat! Georgie generously wandered off to go shopping for clothes and shoes (poor dear, the trials she has to endure) whilst she left Rod to wander slack jawed and drooling through a magnificent collection of wonderful wonderful wonderful old motorbikes. He truly felt that he’d gone to heaven, particularly when he came across the Britten!! The REAL Britten! Now I’m sure you are all sitting on the edges of your seats as you read this, but just in case there is one person out there who is uneducated as to the significance of this find, here is the explanation:

John Britten was an obscure Kiwi fella who created the world’s most advanced and ground-breaking superbike in his backyard shed ‘way back in the 90s. A machine so advanced that now ALL superbikes have elements of the Britten incorporated into them. So you can imagine how Rod felt to view this masterpiece that he had only previously read about.

Also, of course, Rod also got to see the ‘World’s Fastest Indian’ of Burt Monroe/Anthony Hopkins fame. That, too, was a euphoric experience for the poor wobbly-kneed fellow.

We continued on through the little-bit-boring country around Invercargill, randomly stopping in a weird artist’s gallery where we viewed totally off the planet art, then progressed on to see the fossilised forest at Curio Bay. That was interesting, wandering around at low tide to see the remnants of a carboniferous forest.

Further down the road we came across the Caitlins Forest Park, a gorgeous patch of temperate rainforest that reaches down to the sea. We wandered down to a couple of pretty waterfalls and stopped at lovely lookouts along the way. That is a place that deserves a longer explore when we come back to this lovely isle. The views and even the farming country reminded us of the Dales in Northern England and the Obi Obi Valley in Southern Queensland.

Click to big the pictures up and Rod promised Georgie that he would only ONLY put two motorbike pics in…

Bleak windswept coastlines, trees deformed into curved-over shapes that leaned away from the almost constant Antarctic blow. So totally different from the West coast and Fiordlands, the rounded hills blown clear and grassy. Although spectacular in its own right, it held less fascination than the stunning mossy forests and steep rocky mountains that we had previously been engaging with.

We did stop briefly at a limestone cave at Clifden that Rod scurried through for a short bit, and took quite a few recommended side diversions along the way to view rocky coast lines. Plus we also selflessly fed the poor starving and voracious swarms of sandflies a number of times. After donating blood to those small and persistent insects we would leap back into the car and zoom off with the windows down to try and flush out any stow-aways, braving the freezing wind and frantically rubbing antihistamine cream onto any fresh lumps.

In Invercargill we stayed in a magnificent Tudor-styled manor with some lovely folk before heading off in the morning to investigate the very famous antique motorcycle museum, and to ogle the ‘World’s Fastest Indian’ (Oh my goodness gracious me!)

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Incredibly high rocky ridges with serrated skylines, sections of snow and ice scattered about on the highest points, and tall, dark, wet, mossy beech forests clinging tenuously to the sheer granite slopes.

It took longer to get there than Milford Sound, but it was well worth it. First we drove the twenty minutes South to Lake Manapori then took a boat across that beautiful body of water. Rod thought that Manapori held an even greater beauty than Te Anau with its dramatic mountains reaching sharply right down to the water’s edge. The rugged escarpments towered high above the lake and the forests were stunning.

After arriving at the other side of the lake where a hydro electric power station sits we boarded a bus that drove us up over a steep mountain pass and down the other side to the huge fiord. That journey in itself was a wonderful adventure and well worth it.

The boat that we boarded at the fiord was roomy and comfortable with a large deck topside for us to view the majesty and glory of Doubtful Sound. When the chill wind became too much we could retreat to the roomy and comfortable cabin below to view all the glory and stupendous sights through wide clean windows.

The long journey through the winding passages of that huge body of water took us past multiple waterfalls and bedazzled us with the gigantic landscape. We looked on in awe at forests and mountains that had remained untouched and unchanged over the millenia, and appeared just as it was when the first humans arrived 5000 years ago.

Doubtful is much larger than Milford and yet it is just as grandiose. We really enjoyed the full day of wonders.

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It was a very relaxing day, no rushing about, no driving, just sitting on the deck of a small boat and soaking in the delightful sights and the warm Sun. The weather was kind to us again and even the wind died back making a very calm and flat lake to traverse to see the lovely sights.

It was only a small boat we travelled on today and there were only two other adults and a couple of quiet kids on board with us so there was no jostling for good positions at the handrail like we experienced whilst cruising on Milford Sound.

So it was an easy day, calm waters, glorious views and a small group of pleasant people to share Lake Te Anau with.

After checking into our BnB our host suggested we pop into the tiny nearby cinema to see a locally produced movie about the Fiordland National Park. And oh boy were we glad that we did! ‘Ata Whenua – Shadowland’ it was called, and if you get a chance to see it you must. Absolutely. It very successfully gives the awe-inspiring feeling that this amazing region holds. A real gem. It is filmed mainly from helicopters and captures the grandeur and size of the wild spaces of the Fiordlands.

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The day started early with a drive along one side of the very large and pretty Lake Te Anau, watching the morning clouds lift from the wild mountains on the opposite shore. Then it was up into the ancient glacial valley that led towards our destination for the day.

We had allocated four hours to drive the two hour journey, and just as well we did because there was just so much to stop at and ogle over that we only just made our boat on time. As always, we were very easily distracted by the utter grandeur that was all around us and kept taking little turn-offs to investigate. The New Zealand government has done a grand job of providing viewing platforms, walking tracks, public toilets, camping spots and safe pull-off points all along the way. They certainly recognise the value of tourism and have catered for it with good quality infrastructure.

The valley walls were steep and precipitous, the forests deep, dark and mossy and the water courses clean, bubbling and fresh. It was a true delight. The further we travelled the more spectacular the views became, more snow was glimpsed high atop the mountains, which themselves grew larger and steeper. The ancient mossy beech trees became more gnarled and heavily swathed in other lush and dripping plant life, and waterfalls abounded. Each rock face seemed to have multiple ribbons of water falling from great heights.

Then we arrived at what appeared to be an enormous sheer rock wall blocking our way, so we lined up with the other cars waiting for the on-coming traffic to come through the single lane tunnel before we could slowly progress into the depths of the mountain. Coming out the other side we were presented with an unbelievably huge ring of rock all around us before we moved down the zig-zagging road into the steep valley below.

We glanced at several lovely sights along the way, not daring to stop because by that time we were in danger of missing our boat due to having dithered too much already, but promising ourselves that we would spend longer at them on the return journey.

Milford Sound (not actually a Sound, it is really a Fiord) is an absolute wonder. The huge steep rocky mountains that plummet down to the calm sea water are so spectacular that I have no way to put their grandeur into words. We were lucky enough to strike a day when the Sun was shining so we could actually see the tops of everything and all the dramatic shadows. Also, because it was a warm day the notorious sandflies were at a minimum, which was an absolute blessing.

With every turn the boat took around each corner of the fiord we beheld yet another and even more grand and breathe-taking vista, multiple temporary waterfalls cascaded from the cliffs (we were fortunate that it had rained just the day before) and several groups of fur seals lounged on rocks in the Sun.

Of course Rod’s camera’s electronics played up, but Georgie took a million photos with her phone which we will share some with you. The return journey included a half hour loop walk to an astounding waterfall where the raging and boiling waters had scoured incredible sculptures into the rocks. It was a huge day of huge sights, and after only taking three hours to drive the two hour journey back we fell into our bed utterly exhausted.

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We have seen some pretty magical things here on this island, but today just topped it all. Georgie was actually moved to tears as Rod had nearly a spiritual experience!

The day began with a drive South to Te Anau from Queenstown after a little bit of shopping (that was NOT the spiritual experience). Rain clouds were closing in as a belt of wet weather swept up from the Antarctic Ocean. The tops of the mountains were enshrouded in mist as we skirted the enormous inland lakes and it was all very pretty.

Along the way we called into an art gallery in a tiny township where there were lots of spectacular landscape paintings that we cooed over. Following that we popped into a small café for a cuppa and cake, where we pondered as to why so many Kiwis are keen on hunting as the café was a base for the local Hunters and Fishers Club and had pictures plastered everywhere (again, NOT spiritual).

Following that we stopped at an incredible swampy area where ancient stumpy Bog Pines grew out of spongy mossy flats, a remnant of the natural bushland of the region before the swamps were drained for farmland. By then the rain clouds were lifting and the surrounding mountains began to emerge.

Finally, after pausing at several glorious lookouts along the way, we arrived at Lake Te Anau, had a meal then took a boat across the lake to visit the Glow Worm Caves. THAT was the spiritual experience! Words cannot capture the beauty and awe of those soft and delicate glows that coated the ceilings of the wonderful limestone caverns that we silently floated through on a small boat. The only sounds to be heard were the gasps of the onlookers and the distant tumble of water echoing through the caves. Rod is a bloke who has been in many different limestone caves in his time, but this was the best experience by far. Sheer delight!

Unfortunately photography was not allowed in the dark caves, so you will just have to see it yourselves.

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Rod, who had spent so many years living with tropical sandflies and mosquitoes, tended to pooh-pooh the idea of wearing repellent to ward the beasties off, even despite the many well intentioned warnings he had received prior to his journey to NZ. He always claimed he would prefer to feed the monsters rather than absorb those horrid chemicals.

Well, he now regrets his earlier opinions. The Kiwi sandflies are more than double the size of the Aussie ones and sport a voracious appetite. Plus they leave an incredible lingering itch wherever they’ve feasted.

The extreme discomfort of those annoying itchy bites far outweighs the nasty feeling of slathering dangerous chemicals over your skin. Therein lies a lesson to Rod, just because one may have developed resistances to certain parasitic insects, it doesn’t mean the resistance extends to those insects’ cousins residing over the ditch.

So to all those planning to visit this glorious wonderland heed this advice: wear repellent for goodness’ sake!