Category: The Land of the Long White Cloud 2023

Monday 20 February 2023

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.

Christchurch tomorrow.

Saturday 18 February 2023

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 found in 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

And this is a Kiwi, you silly old dicks

Friday 17 February 2024

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

Milford Sound tomorrow.

Thursday 16 February 2023

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.

And so to bed

Those of you my age or more (and admittedly not many of us left), may remember KiaOra cordial, available in our youth. Hence my ha ha funny title to this new blog. Our trip to New Zealand. Our first ever holiday in the land of the long white cloud. And mercifully in the South Island, whilst Cyclone Gabrielle is ravaging the North Island.

We flew in to Queenstown yesterday, Monday 13 February 2023. Arrived half an hour early, with hand luggage only (we’re rehearsing for our Scandanavian adventure at the end of this year) and we were at the rental car chicken disk at 2.40pm. On the on line booking form we had said a 3pm arrival. So the car wasn’t ready. “Please return at 3pm” So we sat and watched all those fellow passengers lugging huge suitcases and boarding buses or taxis whilst we waited. And waited. We waited so long it Hertz. But by 3.30pm we had our car and drove to our accommodation – a nicely appointed self catering apartment on the main road and very noisy

But then we lifted our heads and opened our eyes

Wow, what a view. The Remarkables. Lake Wakatipu.

Having caught our breath, we headed for town. It’s all downhill, but as the lovely lady at reception explained, it wasn’t downhill coming back. So we drove. Straight into Queenstown peak hour traffic, at 5.10pm. Gridlock. Partly because of the amount of traffic and partly because of the construction of the Queenstown Arterial Road. And not a moment too soon I’d say. We eventually found a park, after many rounds of various blocks and a deal of convenient sight seeing. A wander through the very busy streets and down to that beautiful lake to find something to eat. Hah! Everything was booked out. Many places are closed due to lack of staff. The same old Air BnB story. Cottages and flats which were once let to hospitality and transient folk are now reserved for the wealthy (like us) who pay through the nose and so the owners are prepared to have their properties sitting idle for half a year whilst raking in obcence amounts the other half. Cafes and restaurants had vacant tables but could not serve because of no wait staff and short on kitchen staff. I usually feel like cooking but not tonight, so we kept walking, and eventually came across an unassuming place called The Lodge Bar, with a menu out the front and which exceeded our expectations. A little out of the way, but still on the waterfront, and the only table they had was outside (oh, shame, gorgeous night and perfect weather).

But we had to sit at the bar first, whilst previous guests vacated. Cherrie had a local Gin & Soda (she’s off the Tonic) and I had some sort of wicked and absolutely delicious whiskey sour. Joe, our charming waiter from Essex, who has been here for 11 years (I guess he likes it) showed us to our table and took our order for the most delicious Marlborough oysters with a wonderful vinagrette, followed by our mains. It was great food and a great bottle of wine (less than US$500 for those of you who remember – personally I’ve forgotten) and many great tourism tips. One of which was that the wine we had tonight was a Pinot Noir from the Bendigo district of Central Otago, which sits on Lake Dunstan. Any family reading this will be as amused as I was that our Dunstan’s came from Bendigo in Victoria

After paying an obscene amount for dinner (we’re both staggered by the high prices here) we drove home, very happy with our first day but sad for Auckland.

Tuesday 14 February 2023

Today, taking Joe’s advice, we headed for the Central Otago wine area. The route took us via Roaring Meg, one of the many mini hydro power schemes in this area.

Will you look at the colour of that water?Just to prove we were there, we took our first ever selfie. It took both of us. One to hold the phone and the other to press the button.

Then on to Cromwell. A little too much of Cromwell really, since Cromwell isn’t a marvellously beautiful town, more like a series of housing estates. It may be that our rental car provided navigator (a dear old fashioned Garmin who we have not yet named but who has a very flat Australian voice – we’re still trying to figure who she is) was not listened to. Anyway, we saw Lindsay Drive, and a good too many other drives, avenues, circuits and lanes from every angle and eventually found our way out. Via the big fruit (you could be forgiven for thinking that’s my bottom)

It seems that Cromwell is in a fruit growing district, but you wouldn’t know it until you are well out of town, where we saw lots of berries, apricots, apples and pears.

Finally we found Lake Dunstan

surrounded by the Dunstan ranges, and then found Bendigo

Up a few dirt roads, and just a couple of u-turns, we found what we were looking for. Last night we had that wonderful Pinot Noir. Joe had told us that his two favourite wineries in Central Otago were Mondillo and Prophets Rock. We had found Mondillo. Dom Mondillo charmed us at the cellar door. Or we charmed him. I’m not sure but he came out with the cash and we the debit. After an hour or so we departed, lunch bound. Dom had recommended the pub at Bannockburn, and en route we passed what seemed to be a real life promotion of Grand Designs NZ, full of black houses

We finally found Bannockburn, and the pub. Which was closed. Lack of staff. But the Black Rabbit was nearby and we had a decent sandwich there. Vegetarian. We moved on to Alexandria, via Clyde. Our friend Penny knew a winemaker in Alexandria and thought she could live there. Well, she doesn’t know him, as much as know of him. But we still wanted to see where Sam’s winery was. We like the back roads, and so off we went. We drove through dry country – it’s all dry here. Average rainfall of 300mm per annum. So, the back road, well, very back. The signs were clear, and we loved the remote country we were in

We passed not a car nor a house. Until we came across a farmer drenching his sheep

We waved, and kept going. Someone knew what was up ahead

Which was a bit unfair, as it wasn’t that pissy. It is a lonely life up here though

and possibly quite invigorating to see life-form. Bull shit.

Nevertheless, we continued on our journey, on this fabulous back road. The map (not the flat voiced navigator who had not been given a hearing all day) confirmed we were on the right track. And then we found what we were looking for.

Only three things got in the way

Plus this other thing

It took us 50 minutes to get here. But what could we do but u-turn back to the road less travelled

At least someone was waiting for us

The sheep were drenched and gone. Nothing else had changed. Eventually, we turned on Garmin and found Clyde. Not even a family reunion has done us so proud

It’s a charming town, and possibly the one that Penny would prefer to live in. On to Alexandria. No photos. Not a familiar face in site.

And so to home. After many hours of driving, and just a few u-turns.

The sunsets on our first full day in Queenstown

Wednesday 15 February 2023

Today we head to the historic village of Arrowtown. Garmin doesn’t get a look in, but the road signs are clear. En route we climb (or at least the Mitsubishi Elantra does) Coronet Peak, the closest ski area to Queenstown. It’s a curvy drive up

but worth every turn.

In case you doubt my word (for heavens sake, I don’t sell second hand cars, I’m a theatre producer) here’s the (two handed) proof

So, onto Arrowtown, which is completely charming. We strolled the streets, we learned why we had seen so many dead pines

They are Wilding Pines but they are not native and so there is a massive program to eradicate them (sorry Derek).

The other important thing we learned from today is what a fantastic place is The Winery in Arrowtown. Where you can pay to taste wines, choose what you choose to taste and self dispense. With a cheese platter perhaps.

Back home. Poor old Garmin didn’t get a look in today.

Good night all. Good wishes to the North Island. And to our Australian friends.

Another two days in Queenstown before moving on. What will the blog bring?