Rainforests and Glaciers

Within the Southern Alps sits the Westland National Park. There are more than 60 glaciers in the park, the two famous and very accessible being Fox and Franz Josef. These two glaciers are unique as they reach all the way down to the lower rainforests.  These huge tongues of ice cut through the valleys and flow down through temperate rainforest to just 250 metres above sea level.  The Franz Josef and Fox glaciers are particularly steep, with snow fall pushing ice down through the valley at a very high rate. Flow rates are up to 10 times faster than most valley glaciers. The glaciers are creeping down the mountain sides at a rate of 3ft per day.

08:30 am on the button you're woken to the sound of the first of hundreds of the overhead heli-rides of the day. The purists could easily have a case here. Are these rides the plight of the glaciers?  Combine an active glacier with a rainforest 5kms from a township and bingo, you've got a tourist mecca on your hands - Franz Josef. We decided to start our icy experience with a 5 hour hike up the side of Franz Josef to Roberts Point and then the following day take a guided glacier walk on Fox. A guided tour being the only way you can actually get out on the slippy stuff.

Before you start the ascent up to the point you pass Peters Pool, a small kettle lake. Kettle lakes are formed by huge blocks of ice that are left behind a glacier withdraws. When the blocks of ice melt it leaves a depression hole known as a kettle hole. These are found among mounds of rock debris that is deposited by receding glaciers.

As we crossed Douglas Bridge we spotted large blocks of ice floating by in the Waiho River below. As the trail climbs higher through the rainforest the path crosses over Arch Creek and Rope Creek swing bridges, the latter only able to take one person at a time - very wobbly.  We both agreed that we had never walked such a mix of terrain before. More of a scramble than a walk in parts with plenty of opportunities to get a boot full of icy glacier water.

We were rewarded at the top with a great view of FJ glacier. On rounding the final corner the glacier comes into full view. You're not sure whether to speak or just stay silent as blue lines of ice continue to be compressed by repeated snowfalls. The sun was so hot we had to seek shade to eat our lunch. So weird as we were so close to a glacier. This is one dynamic environment.  Near the top we heard the rumbling of a slip, we could just see glimpses of huge amounts of dust and rock sliding from the mountain. The roar echoed through the valley as large sections of rock tumbled into the valley below. We clambered for a better view, glad all the action was on the other side of the valley!

Our return journey was slightly more eventful, we had a black hawk down. Fe lost her footing and went a cropper slicing her elbow and grazing various other sticky out bits. After 6 months was the first aid kit actually going to be opened?  Not up the mountain as we hadn't packed it!  Even with the slip up we managed the 10km scramble in just under 5hrs.

Our Fox Glacier climb started at 8.30am so that were out early onto the Fox glacier to catch the clear skies. The boot room was our first stop. As we would be wearing clampons we had to kit up with some hobnail style boots. We had about an hours incline to get through first, once complete this then gave us access out onto the base of the glacier, by this point we had all removed a layer as it was a pretty warm morning. Then a quick stop to strap-on clampons and put a layer or two back on, we stepped onto the ice. Our guide,  Llewellyn, made impromptu steps for us with his vintage axe. At one point we had to slide sideways in between two walls of ice. The ice we were stood on was approximately 80 years old!

As the glacier is constantly moving daily ice hackers work the glaciers so that a route to kept open onto the glaciers. Global warming is doing it's thing and shrinking the glacier, the glacier has recessed 100 metres since last February.  Llewellyn pointed out markers where the ice used to be only a few years ago.  The dust storms in Oz gave parts of the glaciers orange stains!

The glaciers in these two valley are the only ones in the world, apart from Argentina, where the glaciers run right down to rainforest levels.  Through the neve you could see the tip of mount Douglas, the highest peak in NZ. This was flanked by Mount Tasman and mount Cook. 

This was an amazing day!

Goodbye but not forgotten

Over a well executed open-air alpine valley cook-up we said our goodbyes to C and G, they were off to Thailand for a week of fasting and colonic!

We didn't get too deep with the au revoirs as with these two being from 'da-hood' there was a fair chance that we would meet again in the summer. It's heavy going to move on when you've met nice people and had
great times. Today split was another one of those moments. But we were off for some glacier action travelling back across Arthur's pass, poor Toyota.

Fully fuelled, the drive back gave even better views as the sky was as blue as. We got some great views of Deaths Corner, Otira Viaduct and the Otira Gorge. The latter section is known as an important part of NZ's engineering heritage. Back in the winter of 1865 men toiled for over a year to cut a single coach pass from Christchurch to the west coast gold fields. Today it acts as an important pass across the south island.  As the Alpine Highway rainforests come to an end, you do a left turn and then wham, there's the pounding west coast. A mountain-to-sea landscape. Does the beauty of this place ever end? With the rugged coast comes deserted driftwood and shell stacked open beaches that you can't help but beachcombe.

A Double-up on Valentines

From the Tasman Bay we drove across to the west coast into the region known as the land unto itself. Our route from north to east coast followed the twisting and turning Murchinson river and well known tortuous Buller river. Both snaking through the mountains and some sensational big-country landscapes. At one point the road reduced to a single lane to make way for Hawks Crag. A solid piece of overhanging granite that reaches out over the road. Highway 6 is a real primo drive.

All was good with the world apart from a odd fishy come eggy smell that seemed to be drifting from the back of the van. We stopped for lunch and I got my ovies on to try and locate the whiff source and on getting closer to the leisure battery it was clear it was the culprit. The battery seemed to have decided to cook itself and then everything around it. So on arriving at the next big-ish town on the coast, Westport (home to a high street with no less than 12 pubs, clearly TV wasn't that popular here) we gave the rental company a call for some advice on what next.  All pretty swiftly they put us in touch with a local garage. An hour later Brian, Westport's answer to all things battery, was all across it and we were back on the road again, on the road again.  No drama, though it took a few cook-ups to get rid of the lingering smell!

Next morning, everything and everybody, fully charged, smell still lingering, we drove from Westport to Castle Hill via Greymouth to meet up with Gilly and Charlie, the lovely couple we met in the north island.  On route we passed through Paparoa National Park. The home of the Pancake Rock. For centuries huge west coast swells have battered and eroded these limestone cliffs, carving them into the most amazing

shapes with a layer type appearance.

We continued on our route, Highway 6, which gave some stunning coastal views. The guide books rave-on regarding this drive and we can only agree with their claims of it being a total stunner. It twists and

turns running parallel with the sea. A real shame that all this beauty comes to a abrupt halt as Greymouth pops up on the horizon. A hard looking town sat within the Grey Valley at the end of the Grey River.

All aptly named really. The day was also rather grey so this didn't help it's cause to look anything but, well, grey. It seems the place is only really known by many for the miners that lost their lives in the Pipe River explosion last year. Greymouth town fits perfectly into our new category known as 'BBN' (better by night). On a plus point though, it did have a great bakery in the high street. Cakes on board we headed out of town almost as quickly as we had arrived.

The last leg took us east through Arthur's Pass. A drive not for the faint hearted. On your approach signs question drivers of their ability to negotiate alpine terrain. In some sections the poor Toyota was under a fair bit of pressure, even struggling right down in second gear for a few of the steep and gnarly sections. Was it a case that someone was going to have to get out and push? Great views though hey.

Once through we then had 40 hairy minutes of 'have we enough fuel ?'.  Arthur's Pass hadn't claimed the Toyota but it certainly took a swipe of our fuel gauge. We finally got to easier ground and into a fuel

spot prior to successfully regrouping with Charlie and Gilly. It was great to see them again and catch up on all things travel related.

C & G are expert climbers and had brought all their kit away with them so we agreed to have a bash at climbing. They found a spot for us to have a go at. All climbs are graded, we aren't sure of the grade of our climb but it felt pretty steep! We had to wear the special climbing shoes to give us a good grip, unfortunately Charlie's feet seem to fit into pretty small shoes so my size 10 struggled.  I know they had to be snug but this was crazy tight.  All we know is that Charile Woodburn 'top-roped it' therefore we felt safe in the hands of the master - Charile Woodburn.  You can check out Charlie's stats: http://www.betaclimbingdesigns.com/team/charlie-c-304_353.html

The following day, morale high, after a long lazy breakfast. C and G went off to further their climbing fix and we went off for a little 3 hour jaunt up Bearly Valley. As we just couldn't face pulling on those 3 sizes too small climbing shoes again. Day done we soon regrouped in the Toyota for a cook-up and constant natter.

'On days like these' it's going to be tough to return to 'normal life'.....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wTdpxY9ocFQ&feature=related

Two Abel Seamen at Tasman

Abel Tasman is NZ's smallest and most accessible national park. It has sheltered bays with golden sands, granite headlands washed with clear blue sea. Being so sheltered it is perfect for kayaking. So for the 2nd day on the trot we were off out to mess about on the water.

No tinnies with outboard motors here. A yellow kayak for 2 was today's ocean going vessel. Our safety briefing was a bit more detailed than yesterdays, the chance of drowning was obviously higher. Nice to see some water wise in action! One of us was fairly confident as she used to belong to North Avon Canoe Club so the phrase 'she'll be alright' definitely applied here. Most men opt for the back seat, some may say the key spot, as this seat has the foot controls for the rear rudder. Being outback though the duties don't end there, oh no. The bod in the rear seat has to synchronize paddle action with up front. So the gauntlet was down from the former canoe goer.

On route to the bay's islands we made a few stops at tiny secluded beaches for either food or a quick dip to cool down. It was clear after the first hour or so we were gunna 'feel the burn' the following day!  This was a bingo wing and back workout if ever I had felt one! Will I be able to lift my tea cup tomorrow?

Sailing on the Sound

We decided to charter a boat for a trip around the Poleous Sounds. OK not such a boat, more of a tinny for two! There are many 'sounds' in NZ. These are otherwise known as Fjords - a long narrow inlet with steep sides or cliffs created in a valley carved by glacial activity.

The original plan was to ride the 'post boat' through these sounds which acts as a life-line to houses that are inaccessible by road, delivering milk and bread along with the post. But the romance of this trip way out ways the cost of riding on it. The fellas going whatever so what's with the high costs for a couple of tourists to tag along? Sometimes you know that you're just being had in the name of 'tourism'.

Anyways after overcoming the disappointment of not delivering the mail we do a little local digging around and get put in touch with a character called Leicester Ball. A retired boat designer and now Poleous Sound resident. He decided to converted his bach (holiday home for those of you that haven't been paying attention) into a permanent shoreside base. It was easy to see why he'd reached this decision.  His new venture was to provide small boat safaris on the sound in a fashion where you, the tourist, would skipper your own boat for the day. While him, Leicester, guided you through the many networks of  waterways. As a boat designer Leicester had designed and built his small fleet. These small aluminium boats, known as tinnies, each had a sizable outboard motor that most non experienced boat types could easily control.

After a very quick Kiwi style safety brief, basically lots of 'she'll be alright' and many 'good as golds' he towed our boats down to the waters edge and we were off, full throttle from the off.  We both had a turn at being skipper. On our tinny, Seascape, local rules were put into place. Skipper must always be water wise and always wear the brightly coloured life jacket. But you know these things aren't all that cool so some wore them others didn't. Jacket wearing to one side though some obeyed the speed limit and some didn't! At one point you'd think we were in Miami Vice the way we were carving it up!

As we got deeper into the sounds and further out to sea we passed hill top homes that had no road access, only boat. These places where real secluded hideaways.  We slowed for some rays who were enjoying the sun in the shallows, they were huge, at least a metre across. The water temp on the Polerous Sounds is fairly warm considering it's a salt water tidal inlet but this results in a perfect environment for mussel farming. The mussel trade is big business in New Zealand, mega bucks. There are many mussel farms dotted all through the sounds but these bring benefits, locals see the need to keep the sounds as pollution free as possible and the business keeps many locals employed which results in them being able to work in the beautiful area in which they live, like generations before them have.

 

We stopped for lunch at a deserted bay, just us and the water lapping under the tinny. A short walk followed lunch, 2km to the next bay where good old Leicester had towed the tinnies around the point to save us doubling back on the same route. Nice.

On the way back to base we watched fish workers haul in many tons of the famous green lipped mussels. This was physical work and not for the glamorous. Each boat can collect around 60 tonnes of mussels per trip. Any small black ones (like we get at home and through Europe) are deemed below standard and are hacked off and thrown back in. These big green bad boys that are at least 3 inches long are then cleaned, de-bearded and then bagged, bound for New Zealand restaurants within 24 hours. A large percentage being exported, to Asia, of course. Luckily Leicester is very familiar with many of the mussel skippers and we were all well happy when he took us along side their vessel to exchange a empty bucket for a mussel filled one! No guessing what we had for supper.

Back at camp as the whoopers were  de-bearded, thoughts raced back to that fateful weekend in Woolacombe where the local catch didn't agree with 3 out of 4 of us!  So as the pasta and beans made way for shellfish we could feel the green eyed looks from fellow campers who were tucking into beans on toast, while we, on unpowered pitch no 17, cooked up a fantastic mussel-tastic shell fish delight. The Woolacombe experience couldn't be further from our minds, well at this point anyway!  It was great to cook up these green monsters knowing that only hours earlier they had been pulled from their hanging ropes within the Sound. We had to borrow a large pan from the campsite owner as we could only get about 4 in our largest pan. So moules mariniere it was, whipped up, smiles all round, and served with a cheeky local Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc.

Quote of the night……'this is the only meal that you can get away with consuming a whole french stick'. Well you have to soak up that awesome sauce with something!………This wine wasn't too bad either.

Straight across the Strait

We caught the 1pm ferry from north to south island. We couldn't remember the last time we were on a ferry, maybe it was to the Isle of Wight or maybe across the channel to Jersey? Either one it was yonks ago but it made a nice change not to be heading to an airport and getting on a plane to get to our next destination. The crossing was smooth and the views beautiful.

The crossing only took 3 hours with the last hour winding through the gentle waters of the Tory Channel and Queen Charlotte Sound which gave fantastic views of the mountains.

Back on shore at Picton, gateway to the South island, we collected our new van. Exactly the same as the last one but £20 cheaper per day as peak season had ended. So no handover required we jumped in and
headed for Havelock, dead centre of the Pelorus Sound.

City Living

We said goodbye to the Toyota and felt pleased we had contributed a fair bit to her 341,000 already clocked kms! She had done us proud and we were sorry to see her go. But boy oh boy we were oh so pleased to say hello to our city crash pad.

Our time in the city was relaxed. We just kicked around and enjoyed great little coffee shops and views from the harbour side. We took time to wander up and down the eclectic Cuba Street peering through retro boutiques, tattoo parlours and nik-nak shops. This part of the city had a great feel to it. The city as a whole though was pretty quiet, could it be still recovering from the weekends sevens !

After much searching I finally made contact with an old kiwi work pal, Mike Butler. He's now in Dunedin we briefly caught up on the phone and loosely arranged a meet at the end of the month. 'Good as gold'.

Te Papa, the museum of New Zealand was free, warm and gave good views over the harbour side, so we were in. This was some exhibition space, 6 floors of all things proud to be Kiwi. A brilliant photography exhibition was taking place on Brian Brake, NZ's best known photographer. His work was published internationally in magazines like Life, Paris Match and National Geographic. The exhibition included some great shots taken back in the 60-70s in some of the countries that we have recently travelled through.

Finally the grey skies over the city cleared after a few dark days we finally had the chance at last to see the real Wellie that we'd read up on. Without delay we completed a walking tour of the city taking in the beehive parliament buildings and Lambton Quay. Wellie is a great walking city as it's mainly flat and pretty compact. This led us to the historic Kelburn Cable car. This Swiss-built funicular railway takes you high into the hills above Wellie for an outstanding view out to sea and of the city below.

Sevens in the city

On route to our first city for a while we hit Martinborough. They were holding their annual rotary fair which looked a big community event. So it was handbrake on. It had only just gone 8.30am when we pulled up
but already the town square was packed with the sounds of shuffling feet. There must were hundreds of stalls and the whole town square and surrounding roads were jam packed with stalls. There were your usual suspects, everything on sale from artwork,  gum (welly) boots, local honey, crafts etc etc. We could have spent a few hours, and not to mention many dollars, here but alas Wellington was calling.

The main road to Wellie takes you on a road that Top Gear would have been proud off. Hugging the forest cliffs through the Rimutaka ranges high above the Hutt River passing through patches of low cloud. Not much room for error here. This all being part of getting 'over the hill', as it's known, to Wellington. Parliament capital of New Zealand.

On arriving the whole town was in party mood. The Wellington leg of the Rugby Sevens had rolled into town and as the stadium is within range of the city and harbour side the place was pretty busy. The Sevens leg in Wellington of this worldwide competition is renowned for everyone dressing-up in a free-for-all theme for a 2 day marathon drinking, sorry, sporting event. Having been to a few sporting events in my time I may have been accustom to the odd drunken daze but this was a whole new league. Scale topping amounts were being shifted. As for the dressing up attire, top marks, the effort put in was truly a great sight to witness. This city certainly knows how to p-a-r-t-y.  Back to the sport though! The 7 minute games are played almost back- to-back although the crowd really don't know whose doing what and where and for whom. What was great though was whenever the mighty All Blacks entered the whole stadium erupted. England made the cup final but playing against a side who were in their own back yard it wasn't going to be straight forward. The game of the day for me was Fuji Vs Samoa. The way these two teams moved themselves and the ball around was a real treat to watch. As for the final, England came second going down 29-14. Hmm

Friday is fish

Stone Henge in NZ, mmmmm. Admittedly not advertised as a replica but a complete working structure designed and built for it's precise location in the southern hemisphere. A little piece of  Salisbury on the edge of the Tararua Ranges!  The owner, and front desk host, a retired astrology lecturer, explained the basics to a blank looking Fe and Dave. We understood solstice and equinox and that was about it!

Our last push south took us to Cape Palliser, the north island's southern most point. So apart from Wellington city you could say we had done top to bottom.  We drove through rolling sheep country to a tiny settlement called Lake Ferry (the lake in question being a saltwater lagoon). We drove a further 15km on an unsealed road to get to the lighthouse. The road at times almost in the sea! We then climbed the 250 steps to reach the red and white striped lighthouse (what with the unsealed rocky road and then mega steps I felt a bit like Anneka Rice, minus the lycra, at this point).

Fishing for their supper were the north islands only resident fur seal colony. There were quite a few just soaking up the last rays of sun whilst others looked like they were just messing around in the waves.  Along this stretch of coastline was bach after bach belonging to the weekend Wellingtonian crowd.

Our campsite for the night was next to the lake and was 100 yards from the pub which was renowned for their fish so being Friday we couldn't resist some fish & chips (our last lot being back in Freo for Dave's birthday!).  Friday night at the pub eh! It had certainly been a while.

On my morning walk to the toilet block I thought how peaceful the lake looked, with the mountains in the background it could have easy been a lock in Scotland.

What we love here and in Oz is that in the caravanning world people make do. You see 50 year old vans everywhere (granted sited and not being towed). But none of this £30k keeping up with the Joneses lark,
very refreshing. If it doesn't leak and still does the job then keep it and enjoy your holidays.

Another day another lighthouse

With no milk shift (although I did forget to turn off the alarm clock, whoops!) we had a lazy cuppa in bed but then back on the road. We stopped for a few hours in Palmerston North, a university town. Here we poked our heads into the Rugby Museum. Due to move to

new premises in time for the world cup to get maximum visitors lots of stuff was crammed onto a small room.

We then could resist a quick visit to a charity shop. We made a purchase each and also saw a beautiful old chair for £30. We looked into shipping costs but quite frankly it would have been cheaper to buy a furniture shop on our return, shame.

Our campsite for the night was an hour down a dead end road. Well worth the scenic drive as hardly anyone there and our pitch was no more than 10ft from the sea. We must have been about 1 of only 3 camping that night. Yippee for kids going back to school. Our view was great, Castlepoint Lighthouse.

You can't beat a swim before breakfast and so that's what we did.  Although technically it was more of a 'dip'.  With our prime location being literally on the beach it was only 4 seconds from bed to water!  We had our breakfast outside, being so close you could almost taste the sea.  We then spent the day exploring the area.  We climbed up to the lighthouse and all around the surrounding rocks and also walked along the deserted beach.

A big THANK YOU the Muller family

When travelling you've always got the choice on how best to experience the country you find yourself. You research and then research some more. You try and obtain some local opinions but at decision time you always can't help but think 'have we chosen the best option available?'.

The time and experiences we had at Muller Farm were unforgettable. Yes we looked at doing a Farmstay but what we ended up doing was even better. The experience will stay with us forever. A big THANK YOU the Mullers!  We had grouse time!

Up the mount

February brought the return of the sun and it was back to school for the kids. At 5am we woke to clear skies full with stars, were we finally in for one of Taranaki's finest?

Our last milking shift complete and thoughts in my head were 'is that it, is my dairy farming career now offically over?' and I must say our udder skills were just starting to improve, slightly!  So after one final tour of the farm the time had come finally for us all to get closer to the mythical mountain that had been hiding behind the clouds for the last 24 hours. With clear skies over Muller Farm, the peak was clearly visable from the milking pit and almost beckoning us all towards one of it's trails. The rest of the morning was spent bush walking, scrambling over rock piles, checking out volcanic peaks, gazing from panoramic view points and drinking water from clear free flowing river ways.  From the view point at the base of the mountain we could see Mount Tongariro and the Ngauruhoe just peeping through a hazey horizon.

We said our goodbyes to the Muller Farmers. We thanked them for having us and letting us get down and dirty on their farm. We really enjoyed our time here. It's really tough to move on when you reach a

really comfortable spot but in the true name of travelling we had to truck on. We had to start our move south towards Wellington, the gateway to the south isle as this is a country that is begging to be explored!

As we made are way east out of Taranaki the mount being ever present on our left had side, we both agreed on what a great find we had come across in a part of country that enjoys a cheery vibe and will think nothing of giving a wave out to passers by. You could easily say we've experienced the real New Zealand. A road trip is much more than the roads travelled more the characters you meet whilst travelling them and if we carry on like this we will be 2 very happy travellers to say the least.