It rained all night. Heavily. We know this because we had to leave the outside door in our hotel room open for air. I think all the other guests did too, as we heard many of them overnight.
It was raining when we got up, and when we left the town of Lake Tekapo
Not much to see, obviously. We had planned to take the scenic route to Christchurch, but the advice we received from reception this morning was to take the main state highway, as we probably wouldn’t see anything scenic from the alternative route, given the weather. But we had an hour or so to make a decision, before the highway forked to give us a choice.
We drove through more gorgeous farming country, forgive the photos please, taken as we were driving as too inclement to get out.
and admired the extraordinary windbreak/fences planted. Perfectly pruned, as if a pair of manicure scissors had been employed. These pine hedges are extremely high and long, so long.
Of course, not everyone is so particular
We move onto the town where our decision must be made. State highway or scenic route to Christchurch
Great name for a town eh? Our friend Geraldine will be chuffed. Especially when she sees these
We stop for coffee whilst we cogitate, and are served by a sweet young thing with the most amazing green eyes. She is Maori, fair skinned and she tells us that the green eyes are exclusive just to her tribe, originally from Stewart Island (from where we had that lovely salmon). We sought her advice which route to take and she was unequivocal – in this weather its the state route. Disappointed, but needs must, whatever that means. What it does mean, though, is that we are forced to take the road to the right when we know that our friend Geraldine would have counselled us to the left.
We see more support for Ukraine, which we might not have done had we gone scenic.
The roadside plantings are truly lovely as we approach Christchurch
and my resident horticulturalist asks me to advise you that the tall grasses are Chionochloa Conspicua, otherwise known as Alpine Tussock. We have admired these grasses throughout our trip and at first had mistaken them for Pampas Grass, but this stuff is actually native and it is really pretty.
We have booked a self contained suite in the centre of Christchurch and found it easily. It’s located in the Heritage Hotel, but privately owned, and we followed the very complicated but clear instructions as to how to find the key and the code and the carpark and the lift and the suite. We did. Opened the door and it looked very nice indeed. Self catering, which we like. Cherrie climbed the stairs to the bedroom and found this
Now, I know this will delight those of you who were disappointed at the lack of disasters so far in this trip. We are, after all, travelling alone and not with our disaster prone travel friends. But, despite our tolerance for most things, this bucket and drip and unmade bed and light menacingly dangling from the ceiling was not acceptable to us today. I logged onto their wifi in the room and found an email from the owners advising us of this ‘disaster’ and that there was a hotel suite waiting for us at no additional cost to us. Disaster averted.
The hotel is located right opposite the Cathedral which sustained so much damage in the earthquake of 2011. It’s still being rebuilt but good progress being made.
It’s still raining heavily, so we don our coats and take a short walk to the markets for a 4pm lunch/dinner. Surprisingly good pasta in a cardboard box with a bamboo fork. See, I told you we are tolerant. A quick trip to the supermarket reveals the continuing high prices in NZ
And back to the ‘suite’ with some basics and no limes.
We see a tram for Ukraine and celebrate the global community
No idea what tomorrow holds. Continuing rain forecast but we shall see. And you’ll have to too.
We left Milford Sound, which sits at 14m above sea level, and climb up to the Homer Tunnel, to pass through again. The tunnel sits at 945m. It’s a steep hike up, obviously, a 931m hike up for those of you who don’t have a calculator at hand, and our thoughts were with those cyclists who we encountered riding the wrong way through this narrow and dark one way tunnel on our way in.
Although today the lights are on in the tunnel and there’s not as much water seeping through. Either the bodies have already been removed, or all got out alive.
About 2 hours out of Milford Sound is Te Anu. All travellers going into the Sound are warned to refuel here and purchase provisions, as there is nothing available at the Sound. We had a great coffee and sandwich here on Saturday and stopped again today for a coffee, and the obligatory refuel of course. It was busy and we shared an outdoor table with a charming man who was on a day trip from Queenstown on his motor bike. He just likes to feel the wind in his face and the thrum (I suppose) of the motor under him, from time to time. He had perfect conditions from Queenstown and was looking forward to continuing into Milford Sound. We were able to take some of wind from his sales by revealing that it was pissing with rain in the Sound. He laughed “It usually is” ! Having learned that we had stayed at the Lodge he told us that when his sister took his mother to the Lodge for two days of R&R, it was raining heavily. His sister asked about the possibility of the river rising to flood level and was assured by reception that this has never happened, and absolutely wouldn’t. The couple got to their cabin, and his sister turned the car around and unpacked just the absolutely necessaries. The river came up and Milford Sound flooded. They got the car out and drove the higher ground. The entire population of the day was evacuated to somewhere high and spent the next three days there, and were eventually helicoptered out. I’m not sure what happened to the car. As I think I have previously reported in this annal, we too noticed the river coming up, but nowhere near to the level as to cause us alarm.
We bid our charming coffee friend a fond farewell and continued our way to Wanaka via Queenstown. Everything looks so different when one is travelling in the opposite direction, and it’s all so beautiful. I mean, how much beauty can one take? (Not a question I ask myself often).
We do note a clear support for Ukraine in the countryside
We skirt around Queenstown, and take the slow route through the ski and distillery town of Cardona. We don’t ski or drink (uncharacteristially for some of us) but chew on our home made cheese sandwiches in order to make the five hour journey no longer than six hours, allowing for photo stops.
We are now driving through very different country than that which we have seen before on this trip.
What we have noticed throughout our travels here is that it is a very clean country. All the cities, towns and villages we have been through are pristine, and even the countryside. The Kiwi’s take cleanliness very seriously
We finally arrive at Wanaka, and are immediately taken by the beauty of this town. We check into the Bella Vista Motel, right in the centre of town. Who dreams up the names of these motels? Our bella vista is the back of the shops, and we all know what are at the back of shops don’t we? Bins. But this is just a transit stop, so we throw our bags in (did I mention we only had hand luggage) and head off to the lake. It’s glorious.
Cherrie gets a very warm welcome from an old hand
and the mix of cultures are very relaxed
Clearly this town offers a wonderful lifestyle, with a lakeside beach attracting sun bathers, walkers, swimmers, wind surfers and just those who choose to sit and watch
I suppose every town has its secrets, but why this piece of wood was so very very scared is unaccountable. But it clearly withstood the ordeal like a rock
After a long walk by the lake we stagger back to our bella vista and change for dinner. Of course, nothing has a table available – short staffed and lots of tourists. Not even this one could find a table for us
but we were lucky enough to charm the manager of a lakeside eatery called Trout. She took pity on us and gave us the table reserved for drinkers. Is it that obvious just by looking at me? Anyway, perched on stools as we were, we watched group after group turned away because the cafe was full. We were so lucky to have a stool, and happy because I love trout. But Cod is the only fish on the menu. My fishing friend Garry subsequently reports that trout aren’t eaten in NZ, just caught. Moana, the manager, looked after us brilliantly, clever gal that she is (got big tip). She ensured we were well covered in the wine and food department and reported that eggs were in very short supply in the South Island and that lemons were impossible to find. We had noticed the egg shortage – some breakfast restaurants have even had to take eggs off the menu. I mean, whoda thought it? Lemon shortages are due to the cyclone damage in Hawkes Bay, from where all NZ lemons come apparently. Moana was not sure of the reason for egg shortages but I had read in the no doubt very reliable Otago Daily Times that some years ago the government phased out battery eggs and soon after the two biggest supermarkets in NZ announced they would not be stocking cage eggs any longer. This all happened so quickly that the checken farmers didn’t have time to fully convert to free range and so only about 70% of full supply are available at any time. However, this current shortage is a mystery. At least to me and Moana. And it’s certainly no yolk for the breakfast cafes.
Having paid another exorbitant bill, but great food and wine and excellent service, we returned to our vista for a bella nights sleep. Tomorrow we plan to leave bright and early for Mount Cook.
Tuesday 21 February 2023
It’s about a 3 1/2 hr drive to Mt Cook, climbing and weaving all the way. We stopped at many lookouts, because those views are so gobsmacking that stops have to be made and looks must be out.
At one stage we were forcibly sent into a lookout by this fella
Now, that’s a curious sign surely? Until you see this
And here she is
What an operation. Several support vehicles and all other vehicles off the road so this house get past.
Continuing on, down the hill we see more extraordinary views, and this sign – which took us by surprise
Wallabies? In NZ? Truly?
Onward, there she is. Mt Cook, in all her glory.
And are we excited to see her?
The lake water really is that colour. Amazing. As we approach Mt Cook we see her beauty. A fabulous sunny day.
This is, of course, the highest mountain in NZ and was conquered by Edmund Hillary in 1946. That triumph inspired him to Everest. We had hoped to spend the night here (under cover) but all accommodation was booked out when we tried several months ago. So tonight we are staying at Lake Tepako, but it’s only an hour and half away so we want to spend as much time here as we can. But, actually, surprisingly for us, there’s not much to do here. Unless you’re up for a several hour mountain hike. We’re not. There’s no village of Mt Cook, just a very large and terribly ugly hotel and several cabins. And, of course, the Edmund Hillary Alpine Centre. I’m not sure he would have approved. But the surrounding country is lovely
and we have been advised by the woman at the Information Counter to do the Tasman Glacier walk. An easy 30 minute round trip with just a few steps. Sounds good, we’d love to see a glacier. So we drive to the parking area for that walk, and off we go. A few steps turns out to be 333. I make maybe 50 before piking. Cherrie makes the lot, and takes this photo on the way down. Of the simple steps
Meanwhile I have pulled off the track to see the blue lake. That’s it in her photo above. What’s blue about that lake?
Cherrie says that there is no way I could have made it to the top. A huge climb, and in 30 degree heat. Her face was red and her legs jelly when she got down. But she saw the Tasman Glacier
I was pretty pissed off with myself for not getting further. But then I thought, my hip replacement was only five months ago, my brain surgery eight months before that and my shoulder replacement four months before that. Maybe my body still has some recovering to do? That’s my excuse and I think red wine is good for recovery, don’t you?
Goodbye to Mt Cook, as the clouds come over. Here’s what she looked like as we drove in, and as we pull out
On to Lake Tepako. Mmm, not a patch on Wanaka. The lake is lovely but the town is very ordinary. Our accommodation for the night was the Godley Hotel. Anyway, we pottered around town and smugly thought we’d be smart and book a table for dinner so we wouldn’t be in the unenvious position of those we had witnessed last night, desperately looking for food. Could we get a table anywhere? Nada. But we eventually did get a booking at a saloubrious joint called McKenzies. 6.30pm. So we walked more and saw this
I questioned the three young men in the car, as to how often they see wallaby. “All the time, saw 30 today” So there you are. They were introduced into NZ in the 1800s for hunting and for those who had private zoos. Poor buggers.
A drive around the lake, which meant we had to travel through the extensive caravan park, showed lovely parts of the lake and gorgeous beaches. People were swimming and we wished we were too.
Dinner at McKenzies proved to be much as we thought it would, and so to bed at the ungodley hotel, as it proved to be.
We get away from Queenstown at 9.30am. Last night we cooked fresh salmon from Stewart Island, at the bottom of the south island. Delicious, and even though it was farmed it was far superior to anything we have had at home. Today the traffic is flowing. Every other day, regardless of time, we have encountered significant traffic and lots of jams. We know the drive will take us about 5 hours. As the crow flies, Milford Sound from Queenstown is 70kms. But whilst we might be a couple of birds, crows we ain’t. The road distance is 288kms and it is a spectacular drive. We are forced to stop frequently to look at those extraordinary views
We discover this is deer country (well, nothing is inexpensive in NZ) but this is real deer country
Not sure if he sold on 13 January, but this is serious business and there’s lots of doe in it
This is beautiful farming and grazing country with cattle and sheep, as well as deer. These farmers certainly made hay whilst the sun shone, for there is wrapped silage everywhere. Even some with a nod to World Pride Day
Continuing on, we then stop by Mirror Lakes, which speak for themselves
Although the path needed clearing so we could pass through
Did you know that Kiwi’s burrowed and did not nest? I didn’t
This drive sort of overwhelms with views, and one is in danger of becoming complacent. Except we keep stopping and snapping. Not at each other
The sky looks a bit threatening and we are grateful for the perfect weather we have had so far. If it’s going to rain we wonder what effect that will have on our pre-booked cruise and 3 hour (level) walk of the Milford Track. But being the intrepid travellers we are, with just hand luggage (just bragging), we drive on. Into the tunnel. If it’s good enough for the happy campers, it’s good enough for us
It’s a 1.2km long tunnel but seems much longer. It’s a bit spooky actually, water dripping down, very dark (exacerbated by driver Cherrie wearing sunglasses), and with a steep gradient of 1:10. To add insult to absolutely no injury, there are cyclists riding towards us in this narrow one way tunnel. We have passed cyclists all day in a road race, in both directions. I’m not sure how many of these adventurous tunnel cyclists made it out but perhaps time will tell. This is the Homer Tunnel (obviously the Simpsons came here) through solid rock. It took 19 years to build and before it opened in 1953 there was no road access to Milford Sound. However, we had done extensive research and were confident that we would make it through. And so we did. Now we are slumming it in the Milford Sound Lodge with this view from our chalet window. Life’s tough eh?
A stroll along the river reveals the clearest water possible
and fabulous mossy rocks
Did I mention the views?
But even in Milford Sound, even in luxury, a woman’s work is never done
And for those of you who know me by my childhood nickname, these mountains are just over there
Sunday 19 February
It rained all night, and the wind came up. This is the view from our room this morning
But, onward and upward. Whilst waiting at the wharf to board our cruise of the Sound, replete in raincoats and Vera hats, the mystery was solved
It’s what you tie your boat to. And, of course, that structure on Kelvin Peninsula was on the site of a boat building yard. Gil Appleton wins the most convincing answer (we won’t mention, Gil, that it was the only answer) and you win two things. Congratulations. (Editor’s note: please see REPLY to DINNER WITH SARAH to read the conviction of Gil’s winning entry).
Milford Sound: you’ve seen the postcards. Now, allow me to show you some more
We saw fur seals on the rocks
We saw what appeared to be affluent pirates
We saw squillions of waterfalls, this is just one
Look at the colour of that water? Glorious.
The wind came up and almost everyone on the upper dick was blown over
Following the cruise we are due to undertake the 3 hour walk of the famed Milford Track. Obviously this is a tiny part of the track but we want to conquer it. But the rain conquers us.
By the time we get to the pick up area for the water taxi to take us to the walk it is bucketing down. We forego the temptation to walk and retreat to the room. This is what we have to look forward to
Disappointed to have missed out on the track, but we would have spent the whole time looking at our feet and seeing nothing. Except possibly our feet.
By dinner time the view from outside our room has changed dramatically
More waterfalls, and the river is positively raging
And so we go to dinner, to the only restaurant in ‘town’. There is no town, just the Lodge
Our Vera hats were donned post photo
Milford Sound has been the most wonderful place just to ‘be’. It’s majestic, yet peaceful. And just gorgeous in the rain.
We drive through the rain tomorrow, headed to Mount Cook, with a night in Wanaka en route.
FOOTNOTE (and fancy free)
Oh my goodness. As I sit at the table typing this a kiwi just walked across the oiled dick. And I don’t mean a human one – they’re everywhere – but a real one. I thought it was a duck, until I looked. By the time Cherrie got the camera, it had gone under the dick. I’ve never seen one before (read that any way you like). Size of a duck, pointed beak, amazing sort of pointy, thin feathers. Oh how I wish we had photographed it
EDITORS NOTE
Kiwis are not foundin this part of the world. What our correspondent saw was a Weka, a common bush fowl. Easily mistaken by ignorant travellers for a Kiwi. This is a Weka
Our last day in Queenstown and we head for Glenorchy today. It’s 45kms north-west-ish of Queenstown and reputed to be a most spectacular drive. It doesn’t disappoint. We make several stops, including at this beach.
And another with a long walk, climb, up. Miraculously, we reach the top. Is this how Hillary felt? I am the oldest person at the lookout. The others my age have either succumbed to the climb and rolled into one of the many disused mine shafts the signs warn us of, or thought better of it and headed to Devonshire tea. But it’s worth it.
I mean, goodness, can one ever tire of this?
On to Glenorchy
and yet more amazing scenes
We met a man in a cap. An unfortunate hatcap. “Great Man” he said. “Inspirational”. “When he gets in we’ll be all good and the rest of the world can look after itself”. I think it was an American accent he had. Or perhaps it was fluent bigot.
Glenorchy is perhaps best known as the landscape in which many films have been shot, including Lord of the Rings. We resisted the temptation to visit Jacksonville, and instead just soaked that scenery up
A walking day today. Still glorious weather, in the low 20s and sunny. A good day to get the heart rate up. First rule, drive to the walk. We wanted to see what was on the other side of the lake, the side we can see from our room. We discover, on our drive, that the area we are headed to is the Kelvin Peninsula. Every outlook is so spectacular, with so many houses straight from Grand Designs NZ. My photos from Tuesday did not do them justice, but the enduring sense is of black. So many black houses, and they look great because they fit into this incredible landscape. We park by the Kelvin Peninsula Trail, don our backpacks, and head off. Most people who do this probably head off for an 8 hour walk. We aim for nearly an hour. On the edge of the lake, it’s hard not to continually stop to soak it all up (that’s my excuse anyway)
We walk for quite a while, along a very good track. The peace and quiet occasionally shattered by pesky tourist activities
There were once shipyards upon this peninsular and this is one of the things that remains from it. What is it? The first correct answer wins something. The first convincing answer wins two things.
The walk really is lovely, looking across Lake Wakatipui, from which there is no escape in Queenstown. Thankfully. We finally reach the yacht club
We knew this was a classy area.
Further on Cherrie is tempted. DON’T JUMP I cry
Heroically I talk her down. Or back. With another stunning view of the Yacht Club
Continuing on, we come across where the Lumberjack lives. He wasn’t there. But he’s OK.
But who is here is another intrepid bush walker. Well, frankly the only one! And we ask her if she is a local. No, she’s not. She’s from Wanaka. 64km north. Does she know what these pines are? No, says Marion, although she was tempted to say they were Douglas Pines, but perhaps they’re not. But what she did tell us was about her parents, both Dutch, and both of whom were with the Resistance in WW2. It was a fascinating story, but it wavered a bit and we heard a good deal more than we might have chosen. She warmed to us so much that she did a U-Turn and walked back with us, as the stories continued.
Marion took us to see the Angel, as she calls it. A giant sculpture which we had walked right past.
“How far do you want to walk today?” enquires Marion. She is willing to spend the whole day with us and take us on a 6 hour trek. “Gosh, is that the time?” I say. “Must be off”. And we wave goodbye to our sweet, talkative, opinionated friend
As we head back to the car, we look across that wonderful lake. And observe the ghastly scar of the popular Queenstown Gondola
And so we get to the car and drive to our next walk. The Queenstown Gardens. These are public gardens, not Botanic, but still very peaceful and lovely, and full of so many different pine trees. Some, many, of which we have never before seen. Some of which are quite big
And some of which are enormous
We wove our way through these gardens
Up hill, down dale and over bridges
and continued to admire the view
All the while dodging the activities of Frisbee Golfers, a strange game where you walk through the gardens throwing frisbees and attempting to get them into frisbee cages. Or should that be frusbees? As I say, a strange game.
All walked out (fortunately Steps did not reveal how few we had done) we returned to our flat to change for dinner. A time long long ago we had booked for dinner at Aosta, a famed Italian Restaurant in Arrowtown. Having done the recce yesterday we knew where to go. The glad(ish) rags came out and off we went for our 6pm booking. It’s clearly a popular restaurant because it was just about full when we got there. Most of the guests were in their tourist shorts with their tourist backpacks, whilst we looked like we were dressed for the Oscars. Speaking of which, who was sitting at the next table with her husband, and another couple? Sarah Snook. Now, Cherrie disputes this. She doesn’t think it was Sarah. But I’m here to tell you that it absolutely was. And she was beautifully dressed in casual clothes, which clearly cost a mint. Surreptitiously I check my phone for Sarah’s husband. And there he is, sitting at the table. Dave Lawrence. Don’t know who the other couple were but a bit older. Sometime during dinner, the other female at the table took a phone call – it was of course on silent. She looked at the screen, left the table and exited the restaurant. It was evident to me that she was either Sarah’s manager or publicist, and that it was either Spielberg or Macintosh on the phone. She returned to the table and said nothing. I guess it was simply an availability check.
Meanwhile, back at our table, the service was fantastic, the food good and the bill astronomical. NZ really does have high prices and a real cust uf luving problem. As we left I resisted blowing a kiss to Sarah and Dave, and a thumbs up to manager-lady, whilst Cherrie is still saying it wasn’t her. Now, if any of you had dinner with Sarah on Thursday night this week, please fess up. Because I reckon she really was in Arrowtown. In fact I’m sure of it.
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