Archives: 21st October 2001

Oops! Forgot again to buy bacon on the way back from the restaurant last night so, while John showered, Brigid nipped into a local gas station for a packet. Once breakfast was cleared away, we checked our e-mail for the last time, and packed our bags.

We had been dissatisfied with the way our internal modem had been behaving with the New Zealand telephone system and, fearing it might be faulty, John was keen to find a computer shop to buy a new PCMCIA-type card. (PCMCIA was once explained to Brigid as “People Can’t Memorise Computer Industry Acronyms”!)

We visited three stores before we found what we were looking for. In the process, we found ourselves in the heart of the main shopping centre on the outskirts of the town. Too late, we had discovered where all the locals did their shopping!

We still had some time to kill before leaving for the airport, so we had lunch and bought a couple of new books for the flight. Then, having re-fuelled the van, we opted to spend the rest of the afternoon in the relative comfort of the business class lounge at Christchurch airport.

We arrived at our hotel in Melbourne a little after 7pm. We were both quite tired, but determined to stay up for a while before going to bed. Neither of us was hungry, so we went for a walk. At the bottom of Little Collins Street, we stood for a while, amused by an eccentric ‘street chess’ contest. Manic-looking players leapt across a giant ‘board’ painted on the pavement (sidewalk) to move the 2 foot high pieces, and then back again to stop the clock. Then we strolled through Melbourne’s shopping centre, out to Spencer Street Station to check on train times to Sydney. At last, after stopping for a coffee, we felt it was a respectable sort of time to go to bed.

We were probably asleep before 10pm …

The Post Office was only open until 12pm, which meant we spent a slightly frantic morning sorting out unwanted clothes and other items to send home. We managed to bin a lot of pure rubbish that we had managed to accumulate over the last few months. Then it was straight up to the Post Office to mail our packages – including birthday presents for John’s brother, Mike, and Brigid’s Mum.

John had started to complain about the state of Brigid’s hair – not because it was now purple, but because it had begun to resemble a birds nest! Although keen that it should grow back to a less ‘dykey’ length before returning home, Brigid agreed that something needed to be done, and booked a ‘trim’.

We returned to the centre of town for lunch, and exchanged the compass. We then drove out to the airport to collect our re-issued tickets (now valid for Quantas flights instead of Ansett), and took the opportunity to pay our departure tax at the same time.

Back at the hotel, we did our washing and dithered over where to eat for our last meal in New Zealand. In the end we agreed that we had enjoyed the Strada Café, and (provided we weren’t tempted to visit the Irish bar again) we might as well eat there.

Over dinner, we discussed the future and came up with the beginnings of a business plan …

We woke up late with slightly sore heads.  Having forgotten to buy bacon for breakfast the previous night, we made do with toast and tea.

We were anxious to do some Christmas shopping before leaving New Zealand on account of the excellent exchange rate. We thought that a brisk walk would be good for our thick heads, and so went on foot to the centre of town.

It seemed odd that all we found were endless tourist gift shops, and there were very few people about.  The first shop of any interest we stumbled on was ‘Map World’ on Gloucester Street.  To John’s delight, it had a comprehensive display of GPS receivers.  Neville, the assistant, was only too happy to demonstrate the pros and cons of each model – and helpfully pointed out that the (very expensive) sighting compass that Brigid had bought to replace the one she lost on the bike, would be useless at home having been calibrated for Australasia.  However, he did offer to exchange it for a ‘Global’ model.

Using a combination of Kiwi charm and good salesmanship, Neville convinced John that the Silva Multi-Navigator had his name written all over it …. The rest of the afternoon was spent outside Starbucks in Cathedral Square, cheerfully pressing buttons, and waiting for the GPS to ‘acquire’ its satellites.

We called into the Swanndri shop (no New Zealand farmer is ever without his ‘Swanny’: a heavy duty waterproof woollen pullover), and bought various warm and waterproof items as presents (for ourselves as well as family). We even discovered that we could avoid GST by asking the shop to post them home for us.

We decided (after the excesses of last night) to eat in, and Brigid cooked a spaghetti Bolognese, which we enjoyed with a bottle of our favourite Cloudy Bay.

Needless to say the sun came out on the day we were due to leave Queenstown. We opted to take SH6 north via the remarkable glacier-fed “turquoise lakes”.

Although the weather wasn’t perfect, it was considerably brighter than it had been and the lakes looked almost surreal. Sadly our photographs do not show New Zealand’s tallest mountain, Mount Cook, which was still hidden by cloud.
We ate our sandwiches in the Visitor Centre car park, where we were amused by a constant stream of Japanese tourists jumping on and off tour buses.

Further on, we stopped at the tiny, ancient-looking Church of the Good Shepherd. It was, in fact, built in 1935 in memory of the pioneer settlers of the Mackenzie region.

Nearby stands a rather charming monument in honour of the Collie Dog – without whom the farmers would not have been able to graze their sheep on the surrounding hills.

We stopped for a quick cup of tea in Geraldine, and arrived in Christchurch at around 5pm.

The Colonial Inn motel was one of the most comfortable we have stayed in so far. The room even had a fully-equipped kitchen so that we could cook our own bacon and eggs in the morning – luxury!

We dined in the Strada Café in Victoria Street. Then we found an Irish bar next door, serving truly horrid Guinness, and live music!

Alas, the morning was still grey and cloudy. All sightseeing flights over Milford Sound had been cancelled for the day, so we were going to have to find some other way to amuse ourselves.

First, though, Brigid made an appointment with a chiropractor. Since our modem failed to recognise the hotel’s telephone system, we also wandered into town to check our e-mail at an Internet café. The connection was so slow, that eventually, Brigid had to leave John there, while she went to her appointment.

Neki Patel’s office was decorated with all sorts of souvenirs from sporting celebrities he had treated. We were both rather impressed to find that he looked after the All Blacks rugby team. Once Brigid’s back and neck had been duly manipulated and cracked back into alignment, John decided that his back could also do with a ‘service’. We made another appointment for later in the day.

For lunch, we bought tickets for the scenic gondola to a café overlooking Queenstown. At the same time we bought a couple of rides on the ‘luge’ trail. After eating, we spent a brilliantly silly hour or so racing down the trail on a couple of ridiculous 3-wheeled carts, before it was time to go back to the chiropractor.

We got back to the hotel in time to do some washing, and Brigid took advantage of the bathroom to re-dye her hair … purple!

That evening, we took a leisurely stroll around town trying to decide what we might like to eat. Most of the restaurants seemed quite empty (probably due to the premature end of the ski season). We eventually settled on Chico’s Bar and Grill.

The morning brought no improvement in the weather. Both Franz Joseph and Fox glaciers were still hidden from view under a blanket of cloud. We moved on in the hope that, by the time we reached Queenstown, the sun would come out.

Brigid was in a great deal of discomfort with her back, particularly having spent such a restless night. By the time we reached Haast, she was in agony – having been bumped and jolted as the van lurched and swung around SH6, the South Island’s coastal road. Failing to find ibruprofen in her First Aid kit, Brigid swallowed a couple of John’s Tylex, a knockout combination of paracetamol and codeine. This sorted out the pain all right, but the swaying of the van, as we followed the meandering Haast river, soon put Brigid to sleep, and John got no further sense out of her until we stopped at Wanaka for lunch.

From Wanaka we took the steeper mountain route past the ski resort of Cordrona. The South Island has had very little snow this season (none at all in September), and thus the ski season had ended earlier than usual. Certainly there was very little visible evidence of snow.

As we descended the pass, we had one of the most magnificent views of our trip overlooking Arrowtown. The lush green scenery below us gave no hint of the drought that was affecting most of the Island’s farmers.

We arrived in Queenstown at around 3pm and (on account of Brigid’s bad back) checked into a comfortable motel above the lake.

We ate at the bizarre western-themed Lone Star. Neither of us was particularly hungry so we ordered a couple of ‘starters’. Two plates arrived loaded with mounds of nachos and quesidillas – served by a frighteningly obsequious Asian waiter, who rather reminded us of Inspector Clouseau’s Chinese manservant, Kato!

The morning was dull, grey and damp. Thick cloud shrouded the hills surrounding Reefton. We had considered taking a 40 minute walk along the river, but since the view was spoiled by the weather (and we didn’t fancy spending the rest of the day in damp clothes), we decided against and headed north for the spectacular Buller Gorge.

The Gorge, predictably, was also partly obscured by low cloud, but what we could see was still magnificent in its way. We drove on, avoiding Westport, which our guide book described as “the West Coast’s most dispiriting town …” But, in spite of the (now heavy) rain, we couldn’t resist a stop at Punakaiki to see the famous ‘Pancake Rocks’ and blow-holes. We also read that a colony of little blue penguins inhabited Truman Beach, so we trudged the short path down to the stony shore. Sadly, the penguins were not at home!

The blow-holes at Punakaiki were not ‘performing’ either, as the tide was too low when we arrived. (When the water is higher, and in all but calm conditions, spouts of water erupt like geysers through holes in the rock – sometimes travelling up to 20m.) It may have been the wet weather, but we weren’t overly enthused by the black Pancake Rocks, though they were certainly unusual. (The rocks are so named because they are said to resemble stacks of pancakes. ) Having failed to get a decent picture of either the rocks or the blow-holes, we squelched into the Wild Coast Café for lunch, and took advantage of their Internet connection to check our e-mail.

We stopped for the night at Franz Joseph Glacier, hoping that the weather would clear by morning, and we would get a good view of the glacier itself. As we ate dinner in the Blue Ice (unfortunate name) Café, the wind and rain continued to howl outside. We spent an uncomfortably cold and sleepless night in the van, as the power lead trip had malfunctioned leaving us without electricity for the second night in a row.

We checked our e-mail at the local Internet café, just to make sure that we didn’t have a message from John and Helen, before moving on. We only had one week now to see the rest of the South Island.

However, we couldn’t leave Kaikoura without going out to look at the whales. So, having done the usual chores, we presented ourselves at the “Whaleway Station” on the outskirts of town to book a trip. Half expecting that all the boat tours would have been booked up for the day, we were delighted to find that there were just two spaces left on the next boat. Fearing sea-sickness, we had a quick bite to eat at ‘Flukes Café’ on the beach.

Armed with cameras (a fresh set of batteries in the digital, and 10 shots or so remaining on the SLR), we were transported to South Bay to board one of two catamarans.

Despite the swell, there was no hint of sea-sickness amongst the passengers, and it didn’t take long before someone sighted a whale’s tell-tale spout. As the boat approached, it dived. But another surfaced a short distance away.

Sperm whales stay on the surface for about 15-20 minutes – and during that time we remained poised with our cameras, ready for that moment when the whale would dive, and reveal the full span of its wondrous tail flukes. At last our Maori guide alerted us that the whale was preparing to dive. Moments later, its back arched and it plunged beneath the surface. There was a momentary ripple of disappointment … then, suddenly, the sight we had been waiting for, as the 16m whale’s tail rose up, and disappeared gracefully beneath the waves.

Once everyone had got all the pictures they wanted, the boat’s skipper took us in towards the shore where, earlier in the day, dolphins had been sighted. Alas, the dolphins had moved on, but we did get to see a lot of basking seals.

We arrived back on shore at about 4pm, and wasted no time getting back on the road. It was raining lightly when we arrived in Reefton, a sleepy mining town about 70kms south-east of the scenic Buller Gorge.

Despite the sunshine, and the occasional passing train, we slept in until about 9.30am at the campsite in Picton. After breakfast, Brigid tried again to call John and Helen Crowder, but got the same recorded message.

We stopped in town to pick up e-mail and sent the Crowders an e-mail saying that we would be in their neighbourhood for a couple of days before travelling south to Queenstown and Milford Sound. Meanwhile, we were going to spend a little time visiting the wineries of the Marlborough region.

Cloudy Bay wines enjoy a cult statues in the UK. We were lucky enough to be able to share a case of Sauvignon with a colleague a couple of years ago, but since then, have found the wines only in restaurants. We were keen to visit the vineyard – perhaps even send a case home!

Sure enough,both the Sauvignon and the Chardonnay were a fraction of the price at home, but the winery would not ship a single case. The local woman who appeared to have cornered the market for private orders, was charging an outrageous price, which sadly made the whole deal uneconomical. Instead, we contented ourselves with a couple of bottles for ‘immediate’ consumption. John found and article about the region, suggesting that Selak Winery was worth a visit. The Estate is principally known for its Nobillo wines, but the Selak is just as good, and half the price.

We soon began to feel hungry and, remembering the excellent lunch we had at Clearview in Hawkes Bay, we sought out a winery with a similar restaurant arrangement. Wairau River Estate was perfect. We gorged ourselves on a delicious chicken and tarragon pie, then hit the pudding menu …

Later, several miles down the coastal road to Kekerengu, we suddenly felt the overwhelming need to pull over and zzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

We arrived in Kaikoura around 7.15pm and ‘dined in’.

(A footnote re Cloudy Bay wines: later in our travels we came across two New Zealand viticulture students who informed us that Oyster Bay wines are the more sought after wines at home.)

The hotel was not offering breakfast, so we had bacon and eggs in a deli opposite, before checking out. We now had a whole day to kill in town before our ferry left at 7.30pm. We found a parking space in Lambert Quay, and went to find a branch of Kathmandu to change Brigid’s fleece, which had developed a hole. (Brigid has not been lucky with clothing this trip, but John’s latest credit card statement shows that he has had a credit from Clare’s in Ontario – thereby closing the chapter on the Joe Rocket jacket!).

John is toying with the idea of buying a dive knife in Tisdall’s outdoor outfitters. Brigid is now very much taken with the idea of learning to fish. We found an Internet café in Victoria Street and logged in for e-mail. John does a little research on GPS systems, and then we wander around Queens Wharf looking for a marine chandlery shop to compare prices. We found no chandlery, but had a delicious lunch in Latitude 41, having moved the van to a more permanent parking spot in the Lynx check-in area.

We rang Britz (rather late in the day) to establish that it was o.k. to keep the van an extra week, and (after a certain amount of to-ing and fro-ing) were told it was. Then, having done all the shopping we could stomach, we swallowed a couple of ‘Sea-Legs’ pills before boarding the Lynx.