Queenstown, New Zealand

“Queenstown? Three hours tops,” offered the nice lady at the Haast River Top 10 Holiday Park this morning when I checked out. Google Maps says it’s 2:37 and 205 km (about 125 miles). We left at 9:45 (lazy morning) and checked in at the Goldridge resort on the north side of Queenstown at 6:45 PM. That’s 9 hours traveling time or an average speed of 14 mph. Obviously we made some stops.

In fact, we made four hiking stops in the Mt. Aspiring National Park and countless other roadside stops for photos. Each stop is marked with a nice sign describing the trail and estimated hiking times, “20 minutes return,” perhaps. But for us 20 minutes can easily turn into an hour. So taking your time can seriously cut into our mph average.

The stops were worth it though: three water falls and the Blue Pool stop. Each of the hikes passed through dense forests of huge beach trees and again felt almost jungle-like. The Blue Pool was probably the most interesting. Two rivers meet to form, as the name says, a blue pool. It’s deep water that is both deep blue and crystal clear. There are two swinging bridges to cross and a broad beach area of river rock to walk on. The beach area is surely under water in the early spring when the snow melts.

It was here I missed the photo op of the day and maybe the entire trip. When I was on the second swinging bridge, the one directly over the deep part of the blue pool, I overheard a girl say to her companion, “I so could do it.” What “it” was didn’t cross my mind. But when I got down to the beach area and was picking my way to the water’s edge I heard a loud splash. Sure enough, she’d jumped from the bridge into the blue pool and, by the time I turned around, she was swimming to shore and the welcoming embrace from her obviously concerned partner. There I was, back to the scene and my wide angle lens on the camera, missing the whole show. If only.

The trip through the Mt Aspiring park actually traverses Haast Pass, named after Julius von Haast, a nineteenth century geologist who claimed to be the first to cross what is one of three Southern Alps crossings. We’ve done Arthur’s Pass, which leaves us only Lewis Pass to go for the trifecta. Of ccurse, von Haast wasn’t the first. The Maoris had used it for centuries before and another European, the gold prospector Charles Cameron, made the crossing before von Haast. Cameron buried his powder flask on the west side, which was later discovered to prove that he was indeed the first. Today though, it’s von Haast who gets all the glory: Haast pass and the town of Haast are named after him. Poor old Charlie got a small lake and the Cameron Flats wayside picnic area for his troubles. And the Maori? Fergitit.

We actually crossed another pass, the Crown Saddle that crosses the Crown Range south of Wanaka on the way to Queenstown. Crown Saddle is said to be the highest sealed (i.e., paved) pass in New Zealand (it beats one in the North Island by 2 meters). What ever the bragging rights, it’s the steepest, crookedest road we’ve been on so far.

One interesting thing that Judy noticed in crossing the Crown Range is that the vegetation wasn’t as green and as developed as the lush hillsides we’ve become used to, especially in the North Island but also in the northern parts of South Island. We speculate that this much farther south (and hence closer to Antarctica) the season must be later in coming. Our current latitude is probably close to that of southern New Hampshire. In fact the temperature in the Saddle was 7c (45 f) compared to 14 c (57 f) we experienced other places today.

We made a quick stop at Arrowtown, a small village just before Queenstown. This area of New Zealand was the center of the 1860-ish gold rush and Arrowtown was a gold rush center. Today it’s a gold rush center for extracting tourist dollars (how about a $400 wool sweater?) and a small museum. Most things were closed when we got there but we found one tee shirt shop, thank goodness, that was still open so made our contribution of the local economy.

Now we’re at our hotel, a really nice room overlooking Lake Wakatipu. It’s on a hill side so we have a great view from our balcony. I just woke Judy from her 15 minute cat nap (that stretched to 30 as I typed this). Now it’s time to head out and find something quick to eat for dinner. We had a 4:00 PM lunch in Wanaka and our usual cracker and cheese spread in the car so we’re not terribly hungry but I’ll bet we rally for a piece of pizza or two.

Haast, New Zealand

Have a copy of our itinerary handy? Check it out. What does it say for Friday, November 11? That’s right, travel from Hokitika to Haast, stopping to see the Franz Josef and Fox glaciers on the way. And that is exactly what we did, per plan, on time and on budget.

Despite a steady rain. It wasn’t terribly cold (12c or 54 f, which has been the norm for this trip) nor windy. But a steady, not heavy but soaking rain fell every step of the way.

What would prompt two otherwise sensible folks like us hike for three hours (2 hours to FJ and 1 hour to Fox) over slippery rocks, exposing ourselves and more importantly our expensive cameras to the elements? I mean, we’ve seen plenty of glaciers before. We’ve helicoptered, landed in a ski plane and walked to glaciers in Alaska and have seen them elsewhere. And I’m sorry, but these glaciers aren’t as big and impressive as the Mendenhall and the others in Alaska. But we did it and did I mention it rained the whole way?

Why is the question. I have to claim responsibility. At some point on every trip we take, from an afternoon hike to this 28-day monster I convince Judy we ought to see what’s over the next hill, around the next turn in the path, at the next mile marker. And before you know it, we’ve done the whole trail. I guilt her into it. It’s one of my several character flaws.

This time she took the car keys from me about 20 minutes into what turned into a two-hour hike to Franz Josef. She would wait in the car, heater running, until I fulfilled my hell-bent wish to conquer the trail. But she never turned back. She kept on trudging along. Because like me, I think, she is driven to see a goal achieved, to work the plan to successful completion. She did elicit a promise from me that we’d finish FJ, do Fox and then that’s it; we go directly to Haast and our hotel.

Actually, we’re not alone. There was a pretty impressive line of tourists doing exactly the same thing: making good on entries in their itineraries that make Friday be glacier day. Lots of Chinese, as usual but plenty of other nationalities making what, for many of us, is probably a once-in-a-lifetime journey.

We’ve been having a great trip so far. We’ve executed our plan flawlessly, never lost, never late for an appointment and always pleased with the path we’ve chosen. But maybe there’s something to be said for being more flexible and adapting to whatever presents itself, be it weather or unexpected paths.

But on the other hand, we’re sitting in our hotel room in Haast, lamb rump and a good local lager in the belly, two loads in the washing machine and feeling pretty mellow. And, no kidding, just as I type this, Judy says, “Look! A double rainbow1” And sure enough, the sun has reappeared and is creating not only the rainbow but a magnificent sunset over the Tasman Sea. What if we’d strayed from our plan?

Tomorrow it’s an interesting drive south to Queenstown by way of Wanaka and another twisty mountain road that is said to have some really nice scenery. Judy says that Sunday, our day in Queenstown, ought to be a rest day. It’s a week from Sunday that we head for home and kicking back for a day will recharge the batteries for the final push.

Want to bet how successful we’ll be kicking back and resting? Me neither.

P.S. In yesterday’s posting I mentioned stopping at the Wilderness Gallery and mistakenly called Juergen’s wife Maria. It’s Monika and I do apologize. Before leaving Hokitika we returned and had a nice conversation with Juergen and Monika. Check out his work at http://juergenschacke.photoshelter.com

Hokitika, New Zealand

Just when I thought tonight I’d have to report our first ho-hum day, not a terrible day, not a boring day but a ho-hum day we pulled into the car park for the Pancake Rocks and Blowholes in the Paparoa National Park. That upped the day to another Wow day.

We started this morning with breakfast at a bakery down the street from our hotel on the beach – juice, a bacon and egg pie and a apricot and custard turnover. Then we went shopping.

Many of you know beach towns. Hampton Beach in NH comes to my mind. You have the beach, a street that parallels the beach and then souvenir shops. A restaurant and a hotel or two. In the peak season (December – March here) the place is hopping with holiday/vacation goers. But this is the shoulder season – late April, early May in NH – and so there are some tourists but it really isn’t that lively. That’s the way Hokitika seems to me.

The Tasman Sea here on the West Coast is really something else. Maybe it calms down at other times but right now it’s one continuous wave after another – big breakers. The surf roar is deafening and never let’s up. I suspect people do swim here when it’s warmer; I saw one person in a wet suit with a surf board. The beach is littered with tree stumps and even full-sized trees. We asked someone who told us trees are uprooted along rivers south of here and are blown to this beach by the prevailing northerly winds. It makes for a surreal scene, suggesting to me some alien invasion or some cataclysmic event.

But the shopping. The main event here is the green stone (i.e., jade) jewelry business for which Hotitika is known. There are a number of sources of stone in this area (generally from Maori lands) and craftspeople skilled in working the stone are found here. We first visited Wilderness Gallery, a very fine outlet for photographs of local scenes and especially wildlife by Juergen Schacke. We admired the photos but spent most of our time talking with Juergen’s wife Maria about jade jewelry. She had some fine work but fairly expensive and nothing that lit Judy’s fire. Maria said, “Don’t buy the first thing you see. The piece will find you. And be sure green jewelry is something you will really wear.” Down the street we found Traditional Jade Co., recommended by Jean and David. The owner gathers the stones and makes the jewelry on the premises. And, his prices are a whole lot less. So that’s where we made purchases for Judy and picked up some gift items too. The price tag spoke, but so did the pieces.

Then off to explore the area. The first stop was Hokitika Gorge about 30 minutes east of town. A gorge it is, reached by a fine pathway (all the parks like this we’ve visited in New Zealand are extremely well constructed and maintained). The effort was well rewarded by the views.

Then back to Hokitika and north up the coast toward Greymouth and Punakaiki, a 90-minute drive. On the way I saw a sign for a nature preserve in Greymouth. Not having the slightest idea what it was but wanting a quick hike with some bird photo ops, I made a split-second swerve off the main road decision. The preserve is a municipal walkway around a marsh and lake area. Nothing to write up for Trip Adviser, but fun nonetheless. And yes, I did snap a bird picture or two.

While at the preserve, I cracked my best line of the day, maybe of all November. There were some young workers spreading bark mulch on the side of an embankment. They, like many Kiwi’s asked, “Where are you from?” They know good and well that we’re from the USA by our accents, and they really are asking which State we hail from. I responded, “We’re from Trumpland.” “Trumpland? Where’s that,” asked one. It took a few seconds but finally one of the workers got it and started to laugh. Most of the people we’ve met today express their condolences for what they almost universally see as an unfortunate outcome. I tell them we’ll muddle through somehow and, who knows, maybe something good will come of it all. I do plan on using my line every chance I get. Might as well have some fun with it rather than taking on the gloom and sackcloth viewpoint of the locals here.

By the time we reached Punakaiki it was after 3 PM and we were a bit hungry (OK, we’d hit the trail mix and chocolate stash on the way) so we stopped at a bar in the center of the wide spot in the road called Punakaiki. Lunch service stopped at 3 so we had prepackaged steak pies with chips (Judy) and crisps (Jon). Hit the spot.

The temptation was to go to the Pancake Rocks and Blowhole attraction straightaway but we’d been told that the best viewing time is at high tide. High tide, naturally, wasn’t due until 9 PM. We didn’t want to wait that long but to stretch things out a bit we decided on a one-hour hike up a trail that follows a river bed. Like the Hokitika Gorge, this trail went through a lush, tropical-like forest with ferns, palms and all sorts of other dense foliage. A fellow we met later said it reminded him of Hawaii with the refrigerator door left open – cooler than Hawaii but similar in feel.

I did find one new bird. We found him by the grunting like call he made on the ground in dense underbrush. “Is it a Kiwi?” we wondered. No, but a ground loving, probably flightless bird of some sort. I managed to capture one picture in low light. Made me feel pretty good. But later on the same bird or his brother was waddling around the car park looking for handouts from the tourists. Big deal.

By then it was 6 PM and we started the 20-minute Pancake Rock loop. We left around 7, having stopped to snap our usual copious quantity of pictures. We’ll let the pictures speak to the beauty and power of the place. We came to the blowhole part ready to compare it to Thunder Hole on Mt. Desert Island (Bar Harbor) in Maine. But it isn’t even close. This is the real deal, blowhole wise, even on an incoming tide.

We didn’t get back to the Penthouse suite until 8:30 PM. Our hotel restaurant seems to be the only option at that late hour so Judy went down and ordered seafood chowder, mussels (not the green lipped variety) and garlic bread from room service, which was delivered as I’m typing this screed. She also opened a bottle of New Zealand Riesling we’d purchased the other day. Very nice but if my pen runs off the edge of the page as I write this, you’ll know why.