TRAVEL: NEW ZEALAND 2 - THE SOUTH ISLAND (WEST)

 

17/03/03: Leave guesthouse and return hire car. Get ferry to Picton and then bus to Nelson. Book into ‘Boots’ and have tea at the Victoria Rose. Drinks at various Irish hostelries. Get talking to some Japanese folk.

18/03/03: Go to travel agent and supermarket. Eat at hostel, go to a ‘Full Moon Party’ on beach with my partner, S, a Kiwi guy called Dylan, and some Swedish chap.

19/03/03: Catch bus to Kaiteriteri Beach – very hot, play crazy golf. Back to hostel for an early night.

I liked New Zealand’s North Island but was aware that the country’s more spectacular scenery was to be found on the South Island. Moreover, tentative arrangements had been made to meet up with some of our fellow travellers there: M and E, who were winding up a tour of Australia, and Welsh L and M, who were finishing off in Thailand. On the other hand, I was concerned that the weather might deteriorate the further south we travelled. The last few days had been very positive in this regard, but summer was drawing to a close and I feared a return to the heavy rain we experienced in Rotorua.

The guy who runs the Beethoven insists that his customers join him in some ritual or other over breakfast. We have a boat to catch, and so after a few slices of toast and a cup of coffee we make our excuses and leave. It’s only after we’ve reached the ferry terminal that it dawns on us that we forgot to settle our bill. I don’t feel too bad about it: breakfast was a disappointment, we’d been awoken by an errant fire alarm at about 02:00 in the morning on our first night, the proprietor was a buffoon, and I've no idea how much money I've got left in the bank. In any case, it’s too late to do anything about it, unless we’re prepared to miss our ferry, which we’re not.

The ferry is much bigger than I expected and the crossing far rougher. By the time we’ve navigated the Cook Straight and entered the Bay of Many Coves, the waters have calmed and the sun is shining. We arrive in Picton and quickly find a bus to take us to Nelson, whereupon we walk the short distance to Nelson Central Backpackers – aka ‘Boots’. It is St. Patrick’s Day so after having dinner at the Victoria Rose we hit a few Irish hostelries. We don’t go mad but it’s the most I’ve drunk in a while, having failed to find anywhere suitably inspiring to drink in Wellington.

The next day is given over to boring things. Bereft of a hire car, we need to plan more carefully. We need to procure coach tickets to Franz Josef for the day after tomorrow, and the same for an excursion to Kaiteriteri Beach. To cut down on our expenses we are utilising the facilities at our hostel and will eat there, so we also need to find a supermarket. After all that we end up sharing a cab with a New Zealander from the North Island, who’s also exploring the South Island, to a rumoured party on a beach just the other side of town, which turns out to be a damp squib.

The excursion to Kaiteriteri Beach is more successful. It’s a long drive through mountains and vineyards, but the it feels and looks like summer, so no one complains. Kaiteriteri Beach itself is quite sedate. There’s not much to do other than lie on the beach, play some crazy golf and walk up Kākā Point Historic Reserve, but the sea is crystal clear and the air is hot.

20/03/03: Bus to Franz Josef / Waiau. No room at any of the inns. End up sleeping in a caravan. Pint at local pub, early night. (Second Iraq War begins).

21/03/03: Lift back to Franz Josef and book into Montrose. Partner and S go in a helicopter; I walk to Franz Josef Glacier and then do the Callery-Waiho walk back. Coffee with partner at the Cheeky Kea. Irish bar with both my companions. Blue Ice with partner and ‘Bristol Matt’.

We arrive in Franz Josef / Waiau about mid-afternoon only to find that all the hotels and hostels are fully booked. I find this hard to comprehend. The whole point of staying here is to explore the mountains and marvel at the local glacier, not hang around and party. Nor does it seem to be short on accommodation generally. The staff at one of the hostels take pity on us. They book us in for the following day, while someone else – a UK expat, as it transpires – offers to drive us out of town to spend the night in a dormant caravan in Whataroa, where she lives, and then take us back to Franz Josef, where she works, the following morning. We are not admonished for our short-sightedness and nor are we charged for the use of the caravan. This is typical of New Zealand, where people will go out of their way to help you and think nothing of it.

The caravan that has been offered to us is very small – the sort that people used to hook up to their cars, as opposed to the static, well-appointed behemoths normally found on campsites. There is no heating and it’s too cramped to do anything other than sleep, so we walk down to the only bar in Whataroa for a single pint. It’s a cold night and we’re relieved to be up early for our lift back to Franz Josef.

My partner and S are going up in a helicopter that will them drop them into Westland Tai Poutini National Park to walk around on the ice. I’ll forego this expense and make do with exploring the area on foot. The obvious thing to do is take a look at the glacier, which is about a 4 km walk away. I’m a little underwhelmed by the glacier itself, but it’s a lovely day for it. I figure there’s a more interesting route back to Franz Josef Waiau township than the road I walked in on, and find one: the Callery-Waiho trail, which I will do in reverse. Taken from the Glacier Country website:

The Callery-Waiho walk is an engrossing track that takes about two and a half hours one way. Follow the footsteps of the old gold miners to the Franz Josef Glacier. The path is well-formed and well-marked. There are some steeper sections and areas that can be muddy after rain, so sturdy walking shoes or boots are advised.

I don’t have sturdy walking boots, just a trashed pair of Converse. Luckily, it hasn’t rained around these parts of late and I thoroughly enjoy my rugged hike through this temperate forest. I’ve timed it just right, because I get back at almost the same time as the others; my partner and I go for coffee while S checks her emails.

The evening is a quiet one, spent chatting to some random guy from Bristol. Tomorrow we’re off to Wanaka to check out some weird theme park, which I think is S’s idea.

22/03/03: Get bus to Wanaka (via Manakora). Book into Wanaka Holiday Park, eat something in the park, drinks at Shooters and Kilkenny.

23/03/03: Walk up to Stuart Landsborough's Puzzling World. Get bus to Queenstown and book into Pinewood Lodge. Meet Fergus at Cow Lane, tour of the town, drinks at Winnie Bago’s and Bar Deaux.

We stop twice on the way to Wanaka. I know this because I have photographs taken from beside various roads. Our first port of call is the Haast Visitor Centre about 3 km outside of Haast Township. Our second stop is somewhere in Makarora, which straddles State Highway 6 adjacent to the Makarora River with Mount Aspiring National Park to the west. We eat something at one of these stops but I don’t recall which.

Wanaka overlooks the lake of the same name, with mountains in the distance. It’s a pretty place and more dramatic than anything you’ll find on the North Island. We’re only here for one night and splash out on a cabin at Wanaka Lakeview Holiday Park. In the evening we try a few bars, and for the first time in this country I detect aggro. I think it starts when there’s some confusion regarding pool table etiquette. Coins are placed on the side but is it winner-stays-on, do you just play in pairs, or is it something else entirely? I’m not bothered either way, so we drink up and move on to another soulless Irish bar.

We’ve not spent more than two nights in any one place since leaving Auckland, and I’m looking forward to getting to Queenstown and putting down roots. Before that, though, we’ve got Stuart Landsborough's Puzzling World to tick off. It’s all right, like a three-dimensional Escher painting, and kills a couple of hours before our bus is due.

The journey to Queenstown takes a couple of hours and once we’ve booked into Pine Lodge – another dorm – there’s still time enough to meet up with Fergus, a guy that S worked with in London a few years’ back. It seems that his family are somewhat influential around these parts, in that they supply a lot of the bars and restaurants with booze and own quite a bit of land (citation needed). Drinks on him, then, and we all get a little tipsy.

24/03/03: Subway for breakfast. Fergus takes us for a drive and then lends us another car to drive to Arrowtown. Take dinner at The World with partner, S, a bloke we’ve been obliged to share our dormitory with, and some other feller. Winnie Bago’s for happy hour; Debajo for one after that.

25/03/03: Caddyshack with partner and S to play elaborate crazy golf. Check emails, explore town on my own, KFC with partner, Winnie’s for a couple, with S too. Early night in readiness for…

26/03/03: Go to Milford Sound. Don’t get back until 7.30 p.m. Subway again, Winnie Bago’s to meet M & E. Joined by partner, S, and Fergus who then takes us to a more tucked away bar – drinks on him.

27/03/03: Sort out transport back to Auckland. Go on gondola with partner, S, M and E, and go on the luge. Have tea at The World, a few drinks, play Grass, and then continue drinking back at Pinewood Lodge. See a hedgehog.

The mornings have been getting progressively cooler the farther south we’ve travelled, accentuated by the passing of time as summer transitions into autumn. I don’t like it. It reminds me that my journey is nearing its end, and I don’t think I want it to end. Moreover, I don’t have the clothes to cope with bad weather. A denim or leather jacket would be useful right now, as would more quotidian stuff like jeans, warmer jumpers and a solid pair of trainers.

Sartorial shenanigans and chilly mornings aside, my first impressions of Queenstown are good. Parts of it have been pedestrianised and there are interesting shops and pleasant cafes where you can sit outside in the sun and look up at the surrounding mountains. Some of the buildings are even built of bricks.

After breakfast, we meet up with Fergus who takes us for a drive around the immediate area. He then kindly lends us another vehicle so we can explore further – he recommends Arrowtown, an old gold-mining town about 20 km away. New Zealand doesn’t do ‘old’ so it sounds intriguing. It turns out to be pleasant enough, and there are buildings that are undoubtedly of an earlier vintage, but there’s an ersatz feel to it, like being on a film-set.

It takes over four hours to drive to Milford Sound from Queenstown. It’s a distance of about 300 km but you have to factor in the Homer Tunnel, which is one-way and so you have to wait until it’s clear before driving the 1.2 km underneath the Darran Mountain Range at the Homer Saddle. It’s worth it; Milford Sound is immense. Waterfalls poor over sheer rock faces rising well over 1,000 metres either side of you, some of them obscured by low-lying cloud. As the fiord widens to meet the Tasman Sea, it becomes rough. You may spot dolphins, or even whales, certainly seals.

While we’ve been marvelling over glacial formations and deep lakes, M and E have arrived in Queenstown. Since we last hung out with them in Koh Phangan, they’ve been to Laos, Vietnam and Australia. Fergus has been made aware of their presence and seizes the opportunity to play the perfect host. He takes us all to a shady bar, which he may well own, and plies us with free drinks and games of pool. It is possibly the best evening I’ve had in New Zealand since we ended up at that party in Ohakune.

We will not share each other’s company for long. My partner and I have about a week and half to work our way back to Auckland and take in what we can of the South Island’s east coast. We also have a date in Christchurch with Welsh L and K to consider. I don’t know if we’ve been hanging on for M and E’s arrival but the time has come to ride the skyline up Cemetery Hill and have a go on the luge.

Take the driving seat with the gravity-fuelled Skyline Luge, the global thrill ride for all ages. Our purpose-built Luge carts put you in complete control as you take on over 800 metres of banked corners, tunnels and dippers. Once you’ve conquered the course, hop on the chairlift and do it all again, and again, and again. Gentle and leisurely or steep and adventurous, you’ll be hooked. Once is never enough!

Indeed it isn’t. We race down it five times: twice on the scenic, thrice down the advanced. On top of all that, the view over Queenstown and towards The Remarkables – a mountain range southeast of Queenstown – is spectacular. I could happily stay a few more days in Queenstown, especially now M and E are here, but my partner and I have to be on our way.