TRAVEL: NEW ZEALAND 3 - THE SOUTH ISLAND (EAST)

28/03/03: Check out. Eat a Subway by the lake. Bus to Christchurch and book into Star Times Backpackers on Cathedral Square. Indian at the Asian Food Mall, Bailies Bar for drinks.

 

29/03/03: Do laundry. Coffee at The Daily Grind, check emails, wander around town, coffee, at C-1 Good, eat at hostel. Welsh L and K show up. Get drunk at Bailies and hostel bar.

 

30/03/03: Hungover. Drive to Akaroa on the Banks Peninsula. Get back, walk to stadium and take photos of Christchurch. More drinks at Bailies with L and K.

 

 

Everything is in place to get us back to Auckland: a coach to Christchurch and two nights’ accommodation; a coach to Kaikora, another two nights’ accommodation; a bus to Nelson, a night in a hostel and an early ferry to Wellington; finally, an overnight train all the way to Auckland. Having it all laid out like this means we can go about enjoying the remainder of our time here without worrying over logistics or the cost of it all. (My partner and I can't take all the credit. We explained our predicament to the travel agent who then came up with the plan and made the arrangements, and did so with much enthusiasm.)

M and S get up early and join us for breakfast down by the lake before we depart. S has more time to spare than we do, so she’s going to hang around in Queenstown for a few more days and continue her journey at a more leisurely pace. It’s possible that she also has the option of staying with Fergus.

In 2010 and 2011 Christchurch suffered a series of earthquakes. In fact, seismologists classify the subsequent quakes – including the most substantial, occurring on 22 February 2011 – as aftershocks resulting from the first, which happened on 4 September 2010. All the buildings that I photographed in 2004 – the Cathedral of the Blessed Sacrament, Lancaster Park Stadium, the Government Life Building and Press Building on Cathedral Square, as well as the Cathedral itself – were damaged by the quake(s) to such an extent that they have either since been demolished or condemned. The loss of the Press Building is particularly sad. Built between 1907 and 1909, in a perpendicular Gothic style, it was one of Christchurch’s more interesting structures. Conversely, the Government Life Building was considered to be one of the city’s ugliest. I did not share in this assessment and admired its modernist sensibility.

Two other buildings that no longer exist are the Lyttelton Times/Star Building and the Warner’s Hotel next door but one, both overlooking Cathedral Square. The Lyttelton Times was once the home of the newspaper it was named after. In 2004 it was operating as a hostel called Star Times Backpackers, which was where we were booked to stay. (The Star Building was actually built as an extension to the Lyttelton Times Building, and presumably named after the company’s evening paper, The Star.)

 

Government Life Building

The drive to Christchurch takes about eight hours, with a number of stops along the way – Ashburton, Tekapo, Cromwell, Frankton. Sometimes these stops are to admire views, often they are for comfort. After checking into Star Times Backpackers, we walk down Colombo Street, take in the malls and have something to eat in one of the food halls therein. It’s been a long day, so in the evening we venture no further than Bailies Bar, occupying the ground floor of Warner’s Hotel. It’s a traditional pub entertaining an older crowd than I’ve become accustomed to, which I quite like.

The following morning we attend to our laundry, go for coffee on New Regent Street – a pedestrianised mall built in the Spanish Mission architectural style – and wander around town. Despite being New Zealand’s second largest city it strikes me as smaller than the third, which is Wellington. I think this is because it is less densely packed, lower in rise and adheres to a grid system. That being said, the city centre itself feels European, and there appears to be more shops than there were in Auckland, New Zealand’s largest metropolis.

That evening Welsh L and K show up, as anticipated. The idea is to go on a pub crawl, but we end up bedding down in Bailies for night. We pick apart our shared experience of Asia and smooth over the rough edges that beset our final days together in Siem Reap. The next day, very worse for wear, L and K drive us in their hire car to Akaroa, a small picturesque town on the Banks Peninsula, which is wasted on me.

It’s the middle of the afternoon by we time we get back – early enough to drag Louise to Lancaster Park, a 38,000+ capacity sports stadium to the south-east of the city centre. The journey takes us along High Street, away from City Mall, where there are older, more interesting buildings between more contemporary developments. Beyond the intersection with Madras and St. Asaph streets, the landscape reverts to type: low-rise prefabricated warehouses and thoughtlessly designed office blocks.

Louise and I have be up early for our bus to Kaikoura, so we settle for a quiet night at Bailies. It’s been great hanging out with L and K again, especially in such a contrasting environment to before, and it’s a shame we cannot continue our travels together.

 

 

31/03/03: Nearly miss the bus to Kaikoura. Check in to Dusky Lodge Backpackers. Develop photos while my partner goes whale watching. Drinks at the Strawberry Tree. Back to guesthouse for spit-roast. Rains heavily.

 

01/04/03: Go to town and pick up more photos. Have coffee and walk along the seafront. Bus to Picton and check into Dusky Lodge Backpackers. Early night.

 

 

Either the alarm didn’t go off or we didn’t hear it. We make our bus with literally seconds to spare, without having showered or cleaned our teeth or anything. Fortunately, the drive to Kaikoura is not much more than three hours. Unfortunately, I don’t really like where we’re staying. It’s got that bunkhouse, traveller vibe we found in Rotorua, with gap-year kids stewing in the hot tub. It might have something to do with Kaikoura itself. We are here so that my partner can watch whales and swim with dolphins, and such things attract a certain type.

I’m not interested in doing either, so while she’s watching whales I decide to look for somewhere to develop a roll of film. Mission accomplished, I then go for coffee in the Strawberry Tree, which looks like it might be a nice place for drinks come the evening. An hour passes, I collect my prints and meet my partner along the waterfront. We then return to the Strawberry Tree for lunch and to look at my photos. They are of the North Island. I didn’t know this when I dropped the film off because I have no way of distinguishing one roll from next. I had hoped they might be of Laos or Cambodia, but the developers have done such a good job I no longer mind. I decide to drop off another roll, although I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to pick it up.

Our hostel is putting on a barbeque, so that’s tea sorted. Our plans to go for a few drinks afterwards are thwarted by a torrential downpour and heavy winds, and we end up making a dash for the nearest convenience store, buying a few tins and having an early night.

 

The bad weather persisted. We were awoken yet again by another false fire alarm, before my partner had to be up ridiculously early to swim with dolphins, only for it to be called off on account of the weather conditions. By the time she’d got back the rain had stopped, so we walked into town, picked up my photographs, had breakfast and followed the esplanade as far as the Kaikoura Community Theatre. We then returned to our hostel to collect our things and catch the bus to Picton.

There wasn’t the time to do anything in Picton other than order a takeaway and hang out for an hour or so in the garden of our guesthouse. We had to be up very early to catch the ferry the following day, and the travel agent had booked us a conveniently located, and well appointed, guesthouse with our own private room. Ironic, then, that out of all the dormitories we stayed in this was the only one that had bedbugs.

 

 

02/04/03: Catch the 05:30 morning ferry to Wellington. Walk around town, go for a Subway, buy T-shirt, have coffee, take in a gallery and go for a KFC. Few drinks in Trax before boarding our train to Auckland.

 

03/04/03: Arrive in Auckland. Meet J for lunch. Drop off more film at the developers. Louise goes shopping. Go for a curry in the mall and then back to C’s. Meet J in pub for a couple.

 

04/04/03: Get bus into town to pick up photos. Go to Viz for coffee. Louise decides to develop some of her photos. Back to Viz to check out the results. Loaded Hog for a quick pint. Get bus back to C’s, have dinner and then drive to Ponsonby to bar with high ceiling.

 

 

It’s good to be back in Wellington, even if it is just for one day. There was no time to eat before our departure so we make a dash for the nearest Subway, which is seems to have become our go-to food emporium when we need something quick.

Louise is off to see a Lord of the Rings exhibition at the Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa. I’d quite like to go but I don’t want to withdraw any more money before we fly out in three days’ time. Instead, I’m going to wander around town and enjoy the sunshine. I buy a small, yellow T-shirt in a thrift store for a couple of dollars and then find a free gallery along the waterfront. When Louise is done we go for a KFC, out of convenience, and then make our way to the station, mindful of the consequences should we miss our train. That still leaves us with about an hour to kill, so we settle for a few drinks in a bar called Trax.

 

The train journey across New Zealand takes in some attractive scenery. Not that I got to see any of it: it was dark and I quickly fell asleep. I normally find it difficult to sleep on any form of transport, so I must have been tired – I didn’t even get to see the sun rise.

J has kindly arranged to meet us for a late breakfast/early lunch. Again, it’s good to be back in Auckland, and we make a day of it: develop more photographs (ever since Cambodia, I’ve been paranoid about losing rolls of film, or inadvertently damaging them), drink coffee and go for a curry. Louise buys a sweatshirt (by Karen Walker) she spotted in a magazine (Pavement) I bought in Taupo. While she’s doing this, I walk around town taking photographs having realised that I didn’t take many during our first visit. We meet at the Loaded Hog on the harbour for a quick drink before catching a bus back to Mount Eden. As it’s our last night, C is going to take us to few smart bars in Ponsonby, although his driving there precludes any sort of final blow out.

It’s a fairly subdued evening. Louise and I are sad to be leaving and C is sad to see us go. I have decided that I really like New Zealand, especially its cities. At the same time, I don’t feel like I’ve been in a position to fully exploit them. New Zealand is more a place to live than travel, or somewhere to take a long vacation, stopping over in hotels, rather than hostels, and wearing clothes more suited to a temperate climate. I would like to return one day.

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 different 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 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 a 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.