NZ; South Island road trip, Part 2

Waipara

We came across a random little backpackers/campervan site which was assembled out of old railway wagons, sleepers, equipment and buildings. Plonked in an idyllic spot right in the centre of the Waipara wine region and a bargain at $15 per night with power, showers, kitchen and even cats, we decided to stay for 2 nights and see a bit of the area. The next day, after some argument about where to go and what to do, we visited Athena olive groves and tasted its wares then bought some rather pricey oil and dukka (you can’t camp without dukka!), then onto Sherwood wines where we tasted the range but declined buying anything. We visited Waipara valley wines and tried some of their recently awarded range before buying a Riesling and having lunch of local asparagus with hollandaise and crispy local bacon. By this point it was VERY hot, about 27oC and there was no wind. The kiwi sun was at its blistering best, or worst if you’re as fair skinned as Daf, so we took shade and cooled off with some Tuis.

On Thursday morning we headed north again for Kaikoura. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky – again, so Daf was pretty uncomfortable in the car, he would have hung out of the window like a sheepdog if he could but we stayed near the coast so at least there was a breeze. Kaikoura is known for its sea mammals which live just off the coast in the shallow waters which fill with krill and things which eat krill and things which eat those things i.e. dolphins, sea lions, sperm and humpback whales. We had thought about taking a tour to see some but the disclaimers where along the lines of
‘’sea sickness or failure to sight any wildlife is not reason for refund’’
And since they were all in the $120 - $200 region for a half day cruise we were not keen to waste that sort of cash!! On the road north of Kaikoura however we did pass a few road signs warning of sea lions on the road. Since we had passed many such signs in Oz for emus, kangaroos, koalas, brolgas, wombats and camels, without actually seeing any of them, we were sceptical about the sea lions. About a kilometre from that sign however we did pass a lay-by with a Maui camperbus poised at the water’s edge and some serious camera action going on by way of telescopic Nikon lenses. We stopped to see what the commotion was and saw several fur seals sunbathing on the rocks and swimming in the shallow reef amongst the kelp. One big male was less then 20ft from the road side basking on a rock in the sun.

North of Kaikoura we approached Blenheim where we stopped for supplies before heading onto Renwick, in the heart of Marlborough wine country. Passing by an English pub, which promised beer and cider we just had to stop in for a quick one and get out of the sun. Feeling much refreshed we were pleasantly surprised to find the backpackers with campervan space was less than 5 mins walk from the same pub, the only drawback was that the only available slot was smaller than a supermarket car parking space, jammed in next to a shed, on the main thoroughfare between the office/cabins and the kitchen. We fitted the car in and decided to stay.

Marlborough

The following morning we briefly looked at a couple of vineyards, a chocolate shop and a preserve shop before heading up to Picton to see the port where the Interislander ferry from Wellington docks. There was a cruise ship also harboured and the town was crawling with 70 something Americans, all dressed nearly identically in walking shorts and sun hats with little bouquets of flowers in their lapels and pinned to their rain coats. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. We wandered around the little market on the water front, which was making a healthy living from the tourist dollar, then back to set off into the Marlborough Sounds.

Around from Marlborough we took the Kenepuru road towards the little bay of Portage. It was nearly an hour and three quarters of unmarked, narrow, winding road before we spotted the resort on the bay. After a well deserved beer we took the road back, stopping off to look for the DOC ground on the way. We saw the sign but couldn’t find the site, so we stopped for lunch. We randomly spotted a dead cat on top of a telegraph pole. Here is a picture!

Winding back down through the sound we stopped in Havelock for the night. We splashed out on stone-grilled dinner at the local hotel. I had a mixed seafood stonegrill and Daf had an enormous steak which took him a great deal to time to get ‘just right’. Unfortunately it was Friday night and of course that’s karaoke night in the Clansman in Havelock. It carried on until past 1am. It was god-awful, just like being back in Dundee.

Abel Tasman

We left Havelock and travelled along the north west of the top island towards the Abel Tasman national park. Many people recommended that it was amazing and well worth a visit. We’re not the most adventure-sporty kinda people (duh!) but we were sold on the beautiful beaches, views and drive to get there. We arrived at around 12, had a look around Marahau (there’s not a lot to it) and booked into the camp ground. We had a wander along the spectacular beach, stopping off to look at starfish, crabs and funny things which look like prawns but weren’t. We then sat in the shade of a pine tree as the sun was splitting the concrete, and drank an ice cold Tui.

We departed from the Abel Tasman park bright and early, in an attempt to beat the convoy of camper buses that inevitably trundle around corners, up and down hills at nothing more than 50 kmph. It was a fairly pointless effort as the roads around the park are packed with rental vehicles of all shapes and sizes. We decided at the last minute to take a quieter inland route to the west coast rather than stick to the larger roads. The gamble was that even though the big Mauis and Britz’s would struggle on the smaller roads, they’d be less inclined to choose the path less travelled. It paid off and for most of the way from Motueka down past the Kahunrangi NP to Murchison, the road was empty. It was yet another fantastic morning and the fields around us were filled with apple and kiwi orchards, asparagus crops and what looked like pea vines spiralling up horizontal wires in row after row. As we started to run out of fuel due to the arduous gear changing up and down for the steep, narrow hill climbs we tried to free wheel on most of the descents until we reached a petrol station of reasonable price. By Murchison we couldn’t be so choosy so we pulled in to top up.

After we’d bought out $4 of chewing gum to take advantage of the 4c per litre discount we parked up next to the petrol station to have a quick bite before heading back on the road again. On the way out of the car park and turning sharply right into the path of an oncoming police car we noticed that the petrol flap was still open so tried to pull over by the side of the now 100kmph country road to close it, without raising the coppers eyebrows any more then we already had. On doing so Daf then noticed that not only had he neglected to close the flap but he’d forgotten to screw the plug back in as well and it was obviously nowhere to be seen. We carefully retraced our steps back into Murchison cornering at a sensible pace to avoid any costly spillages and luckily found it right in the middle of the road, where it had obviously flown off the roof on cornering, right in front of the police car and hit the deck. It fitted, but only just. Obviously one of the tour buses behind the police car had given it a nudge, but nothing that a bit of banging with a rock couldn’t fix.

Westport and Greymouth

We carried on down the Buller gorge to Westport for two reasons really.
1 – to visit cape foulwind and see how foul it was.
2 – to try some Tasman bitter and see how foul that was, as we’d been advised by many Aucklanders that it was the worst beer in NZ!
On the way out to cape foulwind we stopped off at a quiet local pub for a break and a beer. Feeling adventurous Daf had a West Coast Gold. There was no doubt that for Tasman Bitter to be the worst it’d have to be bloody appalling to beat the West Coast Gold piss-water-of-an-excuse for beer.
Cape foulwind was pleasant and didn’t smell bad at all. We stopped in Westport to pick up a 6 pack at the local bottle shop. They’d SOLD OUT of Tasman bitter (but they did have a kind of self serve fill-yer-own-bottle area for West Coast Gold, Lager and Black!Nice) so we picked up a case from the local supermarket. It was right next to the 5l plastic value bottles of West Coast Gold, Lager and Black for $8 each. Value!

Westport was boring so we headed down the coast to see pancake rocks at Punakaiki. They were quite spectacular and much better than their east coast rivals the Moeraki boulders. Apparently, according to the tourist information, they are the only thing in the world which has scientists completely baffled because they just can’t figure out why the layers of lime stone which formed 35 million years ago are formed into layers?!

After Punakaiki there’s a foreboding billboard which proudly announces...
“Welcome to Grey Country”
WOW we thought, that sounds great, so we took the bypass and skirted around Greymouth out of ‘Grey Country’ then back onto the Lewis Pass road going back towards the east coast. By about 6pm we realised that we’d better start looking for somewhere to stay as it was cold and we were shattered from such a fun day of adventure and frivolity. We saw and sign pointing right for a caravan park so we followed it to Ikamatua. It was basically a little local farmer’s tavern with a green field behind it, some taps, power boxes and an old train station converted into a kitchen, much like in Waipara. We pulled in and settled into the pub for the night. The locals were friendly enough, the food was filling and the beer was cheap. What more could you ask for!

The next morning I saw a Weka (another of NZ’s flightless and therefore vulnerable birds) pecking around in the grass. It walked a bit like a chicken and looked a bit like a brown moorhen. Not overly exciting but nice to see one. I had a shower, a cup of tea and breakfast then Daf jumped in the shower and I started to pack up the car. I noticed that during this something had killed the Weka and it lay dead next to the hedge. It made me realise why so many New Zealander’s are anti-cats and dogs to the extent that there have been cases of pets being poisoned with anti-freeze. So many of NZs native birds are flightless and at risk from introduced predators such as ferrets and stoats but also from cats, dogs and possums which either kill them or eat their eggs. That’s one of the main reasons that the Kiwi is so rare, it’s almost impossible to see one in the wild.

Hanmer Springs

We topped up the fuel again in Ikamatua (it cost and arm and a leg appropriately enough) and it started to rain. The first rain in nearly 2 weeks but we were grateful for the break from the intense kiwi sun. On the road up to Reefton it was fairly sedate, nothing dramatic scenery-wise. It starts to climb outside of Reefton, into the Victoria Forest Park and up towards Springs Junction. The road winds up towards Lewis pass, at 904m, then starts to descend on the way down to Hamner Springs.

We’d heard from a few friends that Hanmer wasn’t all that spectacular and it was quite touristy but we reckoned that on a Monday morning at about 10am we’d be almost alone!! NOT A CHANCE. The car park of the thermal resort was packed with Mauis, Britzs Wickeds, Spaceships, Jucys and dozens of other camperbuses. It was lucky that the sun had come out by now and the thermal resort was actually quite big. $12 each for as long as you like in the thermal mineral and sulphur baths was a bargain. We noticed that we’d forgotten our sunscreen as we stuffed clothes into the poolside locker but reckoned if we kept under the water we’d be fine. There are several mineral pools all of varying temperatures. From 35oC right up to the sulphur pools at 41oC. All of them are outside, most of them have some shade and all of them have wrinkly bodies in and around them. There were a few coaches of 70 somethings in the 37oC pool, all with hideous swimmers, sun visors and enormous sunnies, gossipping about the various people in and around the pools. The 40-41oC Sulphur pools for some reason were surrounded by honey bees, but were blissfully hot and relaxing. Some of the 38oC pools had waterfall like man-made rivers between them providing peaceful and almost private places to hide in the shade of the shrubbery. After an hour we were ridiculously wrinkly, thirsty and hungry. We dried off, dressed and had a platter of meats, pickles, cheeses and bread with a glass of wine for lunch before drinking a lot of water, applying a little moisturiser and heading back to Waipara to camp.

Half way to Waipara we both started to feel quite hot and uncomfortable.
When we arrived we decided to do a load of washing (I spilled the entire contents of a tub of melted Vaseline in my lap at cape foul wind, that’s how hot it was) so we changed. That’s when we noticed the sunburn and accompanying tan/burn marks. Daf is burned on the shoulders, and top of back and chest. I basically have swimsuit strap marks and a bit more colour in my face but it looks ridiculous. The pain has now subsided.

Akaroa and the Banks Peninsula

After the night in Waipara where we met a lovely Welsh girl called Lucy who was travelling around the South island for a couple of weeks, we spent all night in the Waipara hotel with her drinking Speight’s and bitching about art school, then the next day drove down the coast again to see the Banks Peninsula and Akaroa. It’s a pretty standard piece of farming country. We took the coastal road around by Burwood and down to see New Brighton beach. It was windy and cold, we got out of the car, and got back in again. We carried on around the edge of Chch to the tunnel to Lyttleton harbour. A much better tunnel by my reckoning, than the Homer tunnel. No water running down the sides, lighting, 2 lanes, even hard shoulders on both sides!! The road continues from Lyttleton round Governor’s bay to Gebbie’s Pass Rd then out along the peninsula, on the spine of the mountains to the beautiful , if a little bizarre, French settlement of Akaroa.


Lucy recommended that we stay in Le Bons Bay and take a morning cruise to see the wildlife in that part of the Pacific as she’d had a great time at the backpackers there. We noticed there was a symbol for a caravan park there so we planned to do the very same. The summit road was pretty scary as it winds along the summits of the mountains that make up the peninsula. Steep climbs around tight corners on often unmarked roads with wandering sheep and speeding utes. The road to Le Bons Bay was even more dramatic and narrowed substantially. We drove to the end of the road, back a bit, then to the end again. Stopped to ask where the caravan park was and were advised that it’d closed 3 years ago but there was one in the next valley. Back up the hill again, in 2nd for most of the 3kms of snaking road. Only when we got to the top of the road did we see the sign post which had been carefully positioned so that it was only visible if you were coming out of the road end towards it, saying

“Le Bons Bay Caravan site is now closed”

Genius.

The next bay round the Summit road was Okains Bay. When we found the beach camp we were grateful for some shelter and the facilities were quite good considering its remote location. I wandered along the beach and took lots of photos in Macro of things on the beach then paddled in the very warm shallow water. Daf set up the car under a pine tree. We ate dinner in the kitchen, watched 2 episodes of 'Heroes' on the laptop and fell asleep by about 9.30pm. It rained that night.

Back to Christchurch

This morning we were up early (5.41am for me to be precise. The bloody dawn chorus always gets me), cleaned out the car, packed it up and headed back along the increasingly frightening summit road back to Christchurch. It had a couple of spells of near hyperventilation on approaching the un guarded cliff edge corners but managed to guide us back down the road to the safety of SH 75 and back into town. We washed the car with the power hose style, dropped it off at the rental garage. Much simpler than all that sales nonsense trying to sell a car in Australia. And faster too.

We wandered back into the town centre, had lunch at Dux De Lux again and a couple of pints of their finest. Daf narrowly avoided getting into a fight with a 54 yr old, tipsy kiwi who took offence to his comments about Kiwi TV being rubbish compared to the Beeb, but managed to masterfully change the subject to agree that, yes George Dubya is an idiot and isn’t the king of Thailand an ever so important man and then give a quick lesson on Scottish parliamentary politics before we made our escape. Daf got a much needed haircut, I bought some trinkets. We came back to the hostel and had our first shower in 2 days.