South Island.

Picton to Christchurch via the West coast.

Picton

A long way from home!























A street in Christchurch

 



We'd given ourselves a month to travel around New Zealand, and having divided our time equally between the two halves, we had two weeks to cut about the South. Impossible therefore to see everything, we had to limit ourselves to highlights, many recommended by friends, and opted to travel down the western mountainous coast then end up in Christchurch where Emily's teaching friend Urmi was living.

Buller Gorge

Rivers and Gorges, Caves and Cliffs.

From Picton, where the ferry arrived, we crossed over to Westport on the coast, stopping first at Buller Gorge where a swing bridge spans a horseshoe bend on the rapid river over to an otherwise inaccessible spit of jungle. It hadn't always been so. 19th Century gold mining had levelled the vegetation around us, with the jungle returning only after their departure.

Earthquake rift

Then in 1929 an earthquake measuring 7.8 on the Richter Scale moved whole sections of the land around, uplifting portions and instantly creating a 4.5 metre cliff face. The area is also prone to flooding, the river being one of the only larger rivers still undammed for hydroelectricity.



My able assistant indicating the height of the last flood

In the last major flood the waters had reached near the height of the bridge. Insects known as sand flies became quite noticeable now. We'd been warned to expect them down the west coast and here they were in abundance. Innocuous but pesky little critters, you wouldn't notice them normally, and don't often at the time, as they alight and commence quietly sucking your blood mosquito-like, leaving very itchy spots when finished.

I later discovered they are mostly attracted to red and blue colours – favouring my raincoat over Emily's green, and I spent the next two weeks incessantly scratching my sandal-bound feet.

We visited Foulwind Point nearby Westpoint before heading south down the coast.

So named by Captain Cook due to the weather he experienced at the time; it was very pleasant for us, as was the seal colony that resided just across the bay, and we were also afforded our first experience of Weka birds in the car park – almost tame they look like mini-moa's. Normally shy birds apparently, they can become almost uncomfortably aggressive as they follow you around in the hopes of a snack, clearly having been fed before by passing tourists.






Pancake rocks

Down the coast we stopped at Punakaiki, also known as Pancake Rocks, an unusual layered limestone rock formation with blow holes that spout forth at high tide, and nearby Punakaiki Cavern where we donned head torches – well mine and Emily's reading torch which sufficed, before descending into the bowels of the Earth.

The monster from the deep



Intrepid explorer, complete with caving (reading) torch

 After a well appointed cave entrance, complete with wooden steps, we were able to go some distance down into the cave complex – a few hundred metres and could have gone further but good sense and a lack of proper caving equipment got the better of us. Switching our lights off by way of an experiment cast us into utter blackness – obviously, bringing on a somewhat disturbing sense of excitement tinged with claustrophobia, before we returned to the entrance pleased with our accomplishment.

What particularly surprised me about the Cavern was its open, unmonitored access to the public, though it wasn't publicised in any of the leaflets in the local information centre and, other than a small sign not directly visible from the road, there was very little by way of sign-age to indicate its existence – we were told about it by one of the locals.

Brunner Lake

 Diversions inland.
Continuing on we diverted inland for a few hours to circumnavigate Brunner Lake some of it on unsealed roads, and walk up to Carew Creek Falls, before later also detouring to Hokitiki Gorge.

With its limestone-laden milky blue waters below the Gorge is spanned by a pedestrian suspension bridge – another of many that we traversed; they always added a frisson of excitement to our voyage of exploration especially for Emily as following her a short distance behind, I timed my steps, Indiana Jones-like, with the bridge's harmonic frequency to increase the amplitude of the bounce as we crossed, resulting in equal measure in her squeals of 'delight' and perturbation. We intended to lunch in the rocks on the other side but the multitude of sand flies got the better of us so we retired to a grassy area near the car park where we were bothered by a couple of incessant Wekas looking for a snack.

I tried chasing them off, to little effect, the effort serving merely to amuse a few tourist businessmen being shown the sights by their local colleagues.

Mountains and Glaciers.
Having spent a few enjoyable days wandering down the west coast, we turned inland, traversing through the mountains to our next stop at Franz Joseph Village near FJ Glacier.

Franz Joseph Glacier

The weather continued fine, further north though it was now lashing it down – particularly around Greymouth which experienced the worst floods for years blocking the road on which we had previously traversed. Emily was keen to climb on a glacier, crampons and all, so we booked ourselves onto a guided tour the next day.

Emily enjoying special guide attention.

Complete with issued boots, and with Emily's feet well strapped to protect from blisters, we walked the three miles to the Glacier following a short bus journey from the village, and near the ice stopped to put on our crampons. I'm well versed in ice climbing, having spent a few months on an army exercise near Monte Bianco with the Italian Alpini Mountain troops learning their trade, I therefore felt qualified to prevent Emily from putting her crampons on back to front!

Once we'd got them straight she was able to take her first tentative steps on to the ice, growing in confidence as we progressed. We were with the first group and our guide cut paths and steps were necessary as we processed through the ice, giving us a running commentary about all things naturally and geological. I was interested to find that the glacier has in fact been growing in size for the last fifty years; it travels down hill at 70 centimetres per day, so the ice we were walking on was at least 5 years old.

We traversed crevasse, through gullies, holes and at one point down a rope assisted ice cliff enjoying ourselves immensely, before de-kitting to adjourn to the local spa, which activity was included in the package much to Emily's delight, she went with the additional massage.

Glow Worms.

Before leaving FJ we went in search of glow worms after dark, which we'd been told could be found a short walk out of town, and found a large cluster of them under a canopy of trees and beneath an upturned tree root.

Down South.
Onward South through the mountains we headed off to Wanaka (careful how you say that) in torrential rain.

Undeterred by the weather though getting wetter as we progressed, we made stops along the way at inspirationally named water falls such as Roaring Billy and Thunder Creek, all in full roaring torrent due to the weather, as well as other sights such as Blue Pools, normally blue but markedly not for us because of the fast flowing muddy water.

We headed further south towards Queenstown visiting a number of other 'LotRs' sites on the way including the 'Pillars of the Kings' river that the Fellowship pass through with its huge statues on either side, arms outstretched – actually Kawarau Gorge which has an 1880 suspension bridge across it, the site of the first ever bungee jumping company.

We made our only wine tasting stop of the tour at the Winehouse near the Bridge – extraordinarily restrained of me you might say but since Emily doesn't drink she normal assumes the same visage that I have whilst I'm following her shopping!

The scenery around Queenstown was spectacular and I particularly enjoyed the switchback road that descended into the valley after crossing over the mountain pass from Wanaka.

In Arrowtown nearby, continuing the LotRs theme, we crossed the 'Ford of Bruinen', where the horse-bound Nazgul were washed away by Arwen carrying Frodo to safety, and stopped for lunch.

A Nazgul crossing the Ford of Bruin

Famous for its quaint 19th Century style wood frame buildings, Arrowtown was well maintained, colourful, attractive, and a shopping paradise. Emily was particularly impressed as many advertised culinary items appeared to be gluten free – New Zealand was good in general so she felt right at home.

We chatted with a group of school kids being taught to pan for gold in adjacent stream – there'd been a gold rush in the 1870's, and residual gold could still be found in the river bed.

Glow worms, again.
Onwards to Te Anau in the south of the South Island, the weather turned against us and put paid to a potential visit to Milford Sound with its excellent views (allegedly) of mountains and fiord. There was too much low lying cloud and mist to make it worthwhile so instead we opted for the (also) highly recommended Glow Worm Cave visit.

Ninety minutes north by a fast-ferry catamaran from Te Anau, we passed through a cultural/briefing centre into a cave by way of walkway only a small height above the fast flowing river below. Climbing on up into the cave system – that goes for miles and hasn't been fully explored, we eventually climbed aboard a small 8 person boat, in the near darkness, at a point where the river had been dammed to provide a body of water on which we could float. Using guide ropes in the roof, and with the sound of the rushing river fading into the background, the guide manhandled the boat along the cave.

All was darkness at first but our eyes adjusted after a while and we began to see little spots of light, then more and more, until we reached a large circular area where the roof in places looked like a star laden night sky, such was the density of the glow worms.

We circled for a while in silence, with eyes cast upwards, then returned to the walkway and back to the entrance. Glow worms are strange creatures. In the larvae stage of their development, they hang small, sticky, clear rope-like tendrils below and glow to attract flies whose nutrients are then sucked up; before they change into adults that are incapable of eating and live only to reproduce before dying.

East and North.
After crossing the south of the South Island from West to East, the rain followed us to Dunedin where we stayed in a B&B run by an amiable semi-retired couple with a beautiful garden in the full bloom of spring.

In the evening sunset the squall finally ended and we were treated to the most remarkable full rainbow – a double rainbow in parts, looking across the bay to the peninsular, which spit of land we tracked the next day going north after an excellent breakfast, visiting a monument to Captain Scott at the port where he departed on his fateful final voyage to the Antarctic.

Onward north from Dunedin, we stopped at the Moeraki Boulders, 55 million year old spherical rock concretions (to get geological for a minute), sitting on the beach like giant marbles minding their own business, that is until we arrived to clamber all over them, just in time before the tide came in.

Earthquake city. In Christchurch we stayed with an old teaching friend of Emily's, Urmi and her partner Steve.

Driving into the city we were aware of its recent seismic history, but the obvious damage to the local infrastructure still took us by surprise, made most evident by the plethora of potholes that I had to circumnavigate in the hire car, and sudden dips caused by liquefaction, conscious of potential damage that might result in added insurance costs. There were obvious, strategically placed bollards in the middle of the road covering some holes that hadn't yet been filled in - Urmi had already had to replace her car's shock absorbers due to the resulting added wear and tear.

Christchurch continues to suffer aftershocks daily – there was one as we arrived, which we didn't notice in the car. The two large quakes occurred in September last year on the outskirts, and in March this year, the latter of which caused the most damage because it occurred directly under the centre of the city. In fact the whole of the city centre, called the Red Zone, was cordoned off and had been inaccessible to the public for eight months whilst the clean-up operation continued.

We were lucky; the day after our arrival a walkway was opened up in the centre to allow the public for the first time since the quake an opportunity to view the devastation in 'relative' safety (we had to read a sign which by so doing provided tacit acceptance that “this space is still dangerous; if there is an earthquake or other serious incident you may be seriously injured or may not survive”, followed by Actions On experiencing a quake: Drop, Cover, Hold (in case in the future you need instruction)).

We were able to view the broken Cathedral the repair of which continues to engender debate.



Restaurant vacated since the earthquake

I found stories of liquefaction particularly engrossing. As Christchurch was build on reclaimed marshland, the ground beneath is particularly susceptible, under pressure, to reversion to liquid form, and during the central 'quake flumes of liquid mud could be seen spouting from holes in roads, gardens and indeed inside buildings. The resulting problems were twofold – a gaping hole would be left underground with the consequential sagging of roads, as well as sink holes into which houses had fallen; and lakes of mud were created which then dried and hardened into concrete, rendering roads near impassible. Apparently the aftermath was Christchurch's Blitz-moment as in the days and weeks that followed the community rallied, taking to the streets, bearing brushes and spades to help with the clear up, most notably the university students came out in force inspired and coordinated by one student's battle cry on Facebook.

A sanguine experience for both of us, it was interesting for me to revisit the now stricken Cathedral that I had seen complete in 1987. Contrary to my previous visit, the famous, or infamous, Wizard was not in evidence in the main square this time; a famous orator, wit and disputant, he used to stand on his soap box, Hyde Park Corner-like, dressed accordingly, and take on all and sundry on any topic that came to mind, deliberately making controversial comments to incite entertaining and humorous debate (though not always for the willing victim). Whilst he started out of his own volition, he became such a tourist attraction that the local council began paying him for his controversial-ism. Apparently he'd hung up his arguments and was now retired.

TranzAlpine. Emily spent a day with Urmi and went to school with her whilst I recrossed the South Island, this time by train. The TranzAlpine is one of the top five railway journeys in the world – and one that I didn't want to miss.

Leaving from Christchurch daily it crosses the southern Alps at Arthur's Pass en route to Greymouth before returning later in the day, affording passengers fantastic views of bridges, gorges, valleys and mountains – most memorably from a carriage that is open to the elements, with but a guard rail and nothing else to protect one from the wind and sometimes rain.

After a very pleasant journey up into the mountains in bright sunshine, the weather closed in a little on the western side as we descended towards the coast. Rather than travel all the way to the rather dreary Greymouth, I opted to get off for a lunch stop at Lake Brunner, which we had also previously visited and which was the more picturesque (I was the only one so doing – all the other passengers continued on, little realising in all probability that little awaited them at the end of the line). A rather pleasant pub was but a stones throw from the Station with excellent views of the Lake and mountains in the distance, and I whiled away the time over lunch chatting with the locals and catching up on my written diary accompanied by draughts of the local and eminently quaff-able beverage.

Whilst I was considering packing up to return the short walk down the hill to the station, the proprietress received a phone call from the conductress on the train to say that they would be delayed arriving by 15 minutes. Reflecting on the personal service that I doubt happens often on train journeys (!) I was able to enjoy another wee, small draught in relaxed and leisurely comfort, before boarding for the most excellent and now rather inebriate return journey over the mountain.

One of those great days, though sadly enjoyed alone – Emily doeasn't share my interest in rail travel and for the first time in three months we had not enjoyed the experience together, but we were happily reunited (ahhh) on my safe return to Christchurch later in the afternoon, she having survived her school visit and the obligatory local shopping experience with Urmi.



Well appointed, painted containers to replace the razed shops

After another pleasant visit with friends we said our fond farewells and departed Christchurch and New Zealand bound for Melbourne and Australia – to see more long lost friends.