The West Coast - Golden Bay to Haast

Cape Farewell. It is at the start of the Farewell Spit

We left Nelson on Friday morning and drove north-west around Tasman Bay towards Golden Bay. The day was a mixture of sun and cloud - perfect for driving. We stopped for coffee in Motueka which was voted New Zealand’s best small town 2010. The old four room high school, built in 1913, is now a very fine café and restaurant. Our drive took us over the tail end of the Arthur Range, which provided some excellent views and some unprintable comments from Fran.

Over the Arthur Range. Nelson is lost in the haze in the top left corner.

We arrived in Collingwood, the last real town before the Farewell Spit and stayed in a charming 4 unit motel overlooking the Aorere River estuary. The river’s name seemed familiar and teased the edge of memory until a local reminded us that the river had flooded earlier in the summer during a series of torrential rain storms; then we remembered that we had seen it on the national news. Fran insisted in sleeping on the top bunk that night.

Saturday we spent the day touring Farewell Spit which is a 27 km long sand spit the curves around the north end of Golden Bay. It is a nature reserve and home to hundreds of species of wild birds and seals. There is a huge gannet colony near the end of the spit. Only two companies are licensed to take visitors onto the spit. We had an outstanding guide who was not only very knowledgeable, but who was also an excellent story teller. It was a great day.

Fur seal.

Gannet

Sand dune - in New Zealand!

Fran, Queen of the desert.

We left Collingwood early Sunday morning and started a full day’s drive to Westport. The drive along the Takaka River valley was magic. It was a beautiful early morning with the sunlight rich and golden. The farms in the valley were soft and gently nestled in the rolling hills in contrast to the mountains towering on both sides. It was one of the most beautiful drives that we have had to date. After the up and over the Arthur Range again, we had an unremarkable drive to the unremarkable town of Westport. Westport is the contradiction to all of our earlier observations about Kiwis. Here we saw many overweight folks dressed in baggy sweats and T-shirts, shuffling along. At least half of the shops in the downtown area were for sale, closed, or boarded up. What was open were bars, pool halls and off-track betting shops. We later learned that the town is a slowly dying coal mining town. It is a sad place.  Later in the week Fran discovered a series of books by a local author that she set in the town as it moved from prosperity to today.

The next day we were early on the road as we continued south. We made the required stops at Cape Foulwind to see the fur seal colony, and Punakaiki to see the Pancake Rocks. The drive south is fantastic. The mountains press right to the Tasman Sea, which means the road builders had to be creative. The views and some of the curves are breathtaking. The west coast is known to Kiwis as the wet coast since it averages 5 metres of rain a year. That’s enough to cover the sides of the mountains in rain forest. As you drive you have ocean, rain forest and mountains all part of the same view.

Punakaiki. The ocean erodes the rocks, lawyers of limestone and mudstone, into interesting shapes.

Typical views of the wet coast.

It takes a while to get anywhere with views like this.

The mountains, cloud shrouded, with rainforest and waterfalls.

Ken loves the waterfalls. He could fill a book...

Just another view from the road.

The road, the curves, the up and down.

Sometimes there isn't much room.....

........so they multi-purpose their bridges - one lane for cars and trains.

As if we needed to be told!

This does not inspire confidence - ask Fran.

We wanted to see Arthur’s Pass, the highest of the three passes that serve the highways crossing the Southern Alps. Originally we were going to take the train that runs from Christchurch to Greymouth and traverses the pass. It has temporarily stopped running to allow the rails, rolling stock and crews to bring supplies to Christchurch in the wake of the earthquake. We stopped in Greymouth and decided to drive to the pass and back as a day trip. The day was quite overcast with rain showers drifting around the mountains so some of the views were obstructed. We stopped for lunch at the little village at the top of the pass and then went for a hike.

The Waimakariri River Valley on the Christchurch side of Arthur's Pass. It reminded us of Alberta.

Hiking Dobson's Nature Walk in Arthur's Pass.

Our next stop was the town of Franz Josef to see the glacier. It is quite spectacular as it flows down from the Southern Alps into valleys covered in rain forest. Until three years ago the glacier was still growing.

Ken on the glacier.

Entering a cravasse.

Fran, drinking beer overlooking at the glacier.

After two nights in Franz Josef we continued south to Haast and then turned east, away from the coast, through the Haast Pass and towards our next destination, Wanaka.

Nelson part 2

Morning view from our balcony.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our first post of Nelson focussed on our outdoor activities. Fran thought we should also show the more laid back part of our stay. We had a beautiful two bedroom condo shared with Charles and Linda. It overlooked the harbour and Tasman Bay beyond. We took full advantage of the large balcony that extended the full width of the apartment for morning coffee and supper in the evening.

Morning coffee overlooking the lighthouse.

Just livin'.

Supper

The view.

The harbour was busy with commerce as well as pleasure craft. This was a neat sight for a couple of land lubbers like Fran and Ken. It was old hat to Maritimers like Charles and Linda.

Our view of the sunset.

We were a fifteen minute walk to the centre of town via Anzac Park and we went daily. Since our apartment did not have internet, we frequented a café that did and got to know the staff quite well. Nelson is an attractive and typical New Zealand town with a population around 50 000. The main shopping streets are comprised of local independent stores and New Zealand chain stores. The only international chain represented is Starbucks. Market days are Wednesday and Saturday and we took full advantage. Fresh fruits and vegetables are abundant since we are entering fall.

Anzac Park, on our walking route to downtown.

Nelson, the top of the main street looking at the cathedral. Fran is leaving a coffee shop.

Nearly all of the main shopping streets in every town we have visitied are covered like this and usually decorated with flowers or public art.

Market day. It's all local and usually picked the same day.

Our coffee shop and connection to the world.

While here, we have been reflecting on things that we have observed about New Zealand. Here are some random observations:

The population of New Zealand is 4 million people; 3.2 million live on the North Island. Of the 800,000 who live on the South Island, 300,000 live in Christchurch. That leaves 500,000 people to spread over the entire South Island outside of Christchurch. No wonder there are no traffic jams!

Kiwis have their own fashion style. Most dress very well. Almost all women of all ages wear dresses and skirts. Men in the cities, like Auckland, wear suits.

Many Kiwis like to go barefoot when they are dressed casually. It is common for primary aged children to go barefoot to school.

Kiwis don’t swear much. We have rarely heard the F bomb.

Most kiwis are fit. It is rare to see fat kids or adults. When we were discussing this with a café owner, he expressed surprise saying that in surveys of obesity conducted in South Pacific countries, New Zealand ranks poorly. He himself is identified as obese in NZ terms. We judged him to be carrying about 20 extra pounds for his build.

Kiwis like their coffee. There is a café on every block even in the smallest towns. The favourite brew is called a flat white which is a latte with a very thin layer of foam on top in which they create a fern, the national symbol.

Almost as frequent as coffee shops are outdoor shops selling good quality outdoor clothing and gear.

Cars last forever here. It is not unusual to see 15 year old cars in great shape on the roads. The oldest seen so far - a 1965 Ford Anglia. Many of the old cars are imported used from Japan.

There are cicadas everywhere there are more than two trees. The sound is deafening at times!

 Finally, most Kiwis seem very happy with life. We have had various explanations why. Here is my  favourite.  “You had to pay to come to paradise. I get paid to live here.”




We are on the road again for the next week heading to Golden Bay first and then down the west coast.

Nelson

Fran and Linda walking Tahunanui Beach in the evening.

We settled into Nelson for a 10 day stay. Our apartment is an upscale modern building overlooking the harbour. It is a 15 minute walk from the city centre and all of the necessary shops and services. We can walk to everything and have not moved the car since we arrived.

Nelson receives the most sun of any place in New Zealand and we have enjoyed a straight run of sunny, blue sky days. The sun is hot, but the constant sea breeze creates a very comfortable temperature. It is the gateway to Abel Tasman Park, a national park accessible only by water or by foot. A water shuttle leaves the city from a dock directly opposite our building and stops at a dozen beaches in the park. Nelson has a vibrant arts and crafts community. There are nearly two dozen galleries in the downtown district alone, which is about 8 blocks in size. It is also the city of beaches.



As planned, we have dropped out of tourist mode to "let’s just live here" mode. The fresh fish shop across the way has provided our protein while the farmers markets have provided the local fresh fruits and vegetables. Needless to say, the wine has been New Zealand white and since it is sold at the grocery store, there is always some on sale. Walks downtown have revealed a variety of cafés, restaurants, galleries, shops and an excellent public library. There is something for each of us.

Fran on a hike in Abel Tasman Park

Fran's view

We have enjoyed the beaches and the walks in Abel Tasman Park. Once again Fran set herself a hiking goal and met it. All along the park’s shoreline are bays of various sizes, all with a golden sand beach. They are very popular with boaters, kyakers, and hikers. Nelson is built on a narrow stretch of land between the ocean and The Ranges, a set of mountains. Walking trails through The Ranges are just minutes from downtown.

Ken enjoying the same view as Fran. Where's Ken

A family enjoying a Sunday picnic. Instead of driving to the park, they boat to a bay and picnic on the beach.

A typical bay with a beach. It is high tide so the beach is small.

Our beach.

Ken enjoying our beach.

So our stay here is nearly at an end. On Friday the two couples part ways once again for 10 days. Fran and I are headed up to Golden Bay and then down the west coast.

The Earthquake

We were in Nelson. We didn’t feel a tremour but there was a feeling in the air as we entered the iSite centre, a community tourist agency, at about 10 after 1. The employees seemed a little anxious. It was while we were making a booking a colleague of the young woman who was assisting us came over and asked, “Have you heard about the earthquake?” That was our first awareness. A little while later as we were walking down the main street we  noticed a crowd around the TV sets in an appliance store. We stopped and watched. From then on the news of the quake was everywhere. We returned to the apartment to follow the story on our own TV. What struck us most was the way the story was covered and the response of New Zealanders.

The coverage is very factual. It focuses on what has happened, what is happening, and how people are reacting. Clearly, people are upset. There are images of the wounded being assisted, and some people appear disoriented and visibly shaken. Those interviewed, however, for the most part related their stories calmly. The talked about crawling out of buildings which had collapsed. One group of women described, in detail, how they worked on the fourth floor of an office building and how they had hung on while the building shook and buckled around them. When the shaking stopped, they were at street level, one wall had completely disappeared and they just walked out. There was no wailing for the camera. No announcements about how God had saved them, no great drama. The building had collapsed and they had escaped unscathed and rescue workers were now working to free those trapped in the rubble. They described how they had been helped or how they had helped others.

All of the officials who were interviewed - the mayor, the chief of police, the head of public health, the chief of public safety all had the same message - keep yourself safe, help family members, check on your neighbours, look after the elderly. Things will look worse in the morning, be ready for that, but together we will get through this.

The mayor announced that all but 5 water pumping stations were shut so conserving water was essential. All the sewage treatment plants were off line so don’t flush the loo. It’s raining so put out your pots and pans and collect water; drain your hot water tank as a source of water; conserve and we’ll do our best to get things back on line as soon as possible, but don’t expect things to change in the next few days.

The chief Public Health Officer advised boiling water to prevent disease. Hospitals are crowded and are triaging patients and the most severe cases are being flown to other communities. Teams of paramedics are on their way from across the country and from Australia. Everyone will get treatment, but it will take time. Again the message - keep yourself safe, look after family members, check on neighbours and the elderly.

Message after message the focus was on the positive, be calm, this is what you need to do. Rescue centres were established within hours across the city and thousands of people went for a hot meal and shelter.

The television coverage was not hysterical. It did not focus on the death of the family pet or interview relatives of the dead. In fact, those who had lost loved ones were given their space. Reporters and anchors were sombre but focussed. They gave the bad news, 65 dead with the count  predicted to go as high as 400, but also 125 people rescued so far, many others had texted their location to rescue crews, crews were working throughout the night. More crews were on their way to help. The language of the reporters was very revealing. Their verbs were crucial. They asked “What did you experience” not  How do you feel?”

The prime minister has stated that this is the worst national disaster that New Zealand has had to face. He has declared a state of  emergency. Already financial relief centres have been opened and residents can go and get cash to buy food since without power no ATM worked. This may be the worst national disaster, but one can’t help but feel that they will get through it and learn from it.

Picton

The Interislander from Wellington approaching Picton.

 

We left Wellington on a beautiful afternoon. The sky was clear enough to make the ocean blue, but there were enough clouds to make the sky interesting. We boarded the Interislander ferry at 1pm for a 2 pm sailing. The harbour was filled with sailboats enjoying the fair winds. It was a pleasant crossing. As we cruised up the Queen Charlotte Sound towards Picton on the South Island, Fran and I remarked how similar it seemed to the Vancouver to Victoria crossing. The islands dotting the sound were like the gulf islands - even the ferry seemed familiar and could well have been made by the same company as made the BC Ferries.

Picton is a lovely little town at the head of a bay forming a natural harbour at the end of the sound. We found our new digs easily, a three bedroom house overlooking the marina and the harbour. We arrived ahead of Charles and Linda who had crossed two days earlier so they could hike part of the Queen Charlotte Track. Fran and I quickly unpacked and took a glass of wine onto the terrace overlooking the town. It was wonderful. The Australians have a term for people like us - grey nomads. How apt it seems. We had taken the hustle of Wellington and exchanged it for the sound of the cicadas.

A "grey nomad"enjoying the view from our terrace.

Two 'grey nomads' enjoying morning coffee.

 

The next day was one of the few that we had planned before we left Canada, attending the Marlborough Wine Festival in Blenheim. The festival was featured in a number of travel guides and we arranged our arrival in Picton to coincide with it. Saturday we were up early and on the road. We arrived in Blenheim looking for signs to the festival. We saw none. The young woman at the information centre in town gave us directions, “Go to the next roundabout and follow the signs”, but she had no tickets left so we would have to get some at the gate. No where during our planning had any of us seen any mention of tickets. The next roundabout had no signs. It’s a big festival with attendance averaging 8000. There have to be signs.  Between the map, a compass and our GPS we decided to head out towards where we thought the festival should be. Surely we would find some signs. After half an hour we stopped and asked directions. We were travelling in the wrong direction. Twenty minutes later - in the right direction - we saw a sign. It was white with pale gold lettering and it was a towering 2 feet tall. Just over 2 km down the road were saw a line of traffic. Terrific - we have arrived - the day is saved. We crawled along behind the traffic until we reached the gate. Charles, ever the ambassador, exclaimed that we were from Canada and we had planned this visit nearly a year ago and that we were great fans of New Zealand wine and could we have 4 tickets please. How lovely that we were from Canada and how nice that we loved New Zealand wine and how special it was to know that the festival is known abroad, but there are no same day ticket sales. No amount of ambassadorial charm could get us past the gate. We thought even Larry could not have cracked this one. Dejected, but not beaten, we decided to plan our own winery tour. We got out the map and planned the route. At our first stop we were told that all of the wineries were closed to the public this day because all of the staff were at the wine festival.
There was nothing left to do except go for coffee. By the time we reached a café, we had convinced ourselves that we didn’t want to go to the festival anyway. The tickets were $50 dollars each and we had all been to the Niagara Wine Festival and how different could it be anyway? As we waited for our flat whites to be prepared Linda told the barista our tale of woe. “Oh, she said, they have tickets at the  community centre office in town. It closes in 10 minutes but I can call and have them stay open until you get there.”
Back to the car, into town, buy the tickets for $100 a couple - after all it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity, back to the festival grounds, we know the way by now,  and up to the gate. There is no line up. It’s two oclock and the gates opened at ten. We parked the car, for five dollars, showed our tickets and went in to find eight thousand young people drunk and staggering around to a number of bands playing rap music badly and very loudly.  They lurched from booth to booth paying up to 6 dollars for a ‘taste’ of  wine. The most popular food seemed to be a lamb shank - a large chunk of greasy lamb still on the bone that one gnaws down to the bone. Well over half of the attendees were scantily clad, drunk young women. Charles and Ken thought since we came all this way, we should probably stay for a little while. Fran and Linda thought otherwise and somehow Charles and Ken were outvoted.
We finished the day on our deck, overlooking the harbour and drinking a nice Australian wine.

Vineyards - Marlborough

It's like Niagara, only hills instead of the lake

 

We wiled away the next two days with walks over the Victoria Domain, strolling through the village, sitting at our favourite café watching the sail boats come and go, selecting which fresh fish we wanted for supper and just enjoying the views from our deck. We were reluctant to leave.

The Victoria Domain (forested hills in the centre) which offers spectacular views of the Sound.

One of the views from the Victoria Domain - the Queen Charlotte Sound looking away from Picton.

 

Views from Victoria Domain.

Picton harbour as seen from our favourite cafe.

Are we happy?  You betcha.

 Next stop, Nelson