Captain Cook is from Yorkshire! - Meg and Phil

(Meg wrote this first half...)

Captain Cook is from YORKSHIRE!!

I know, I know.... all those trips to Whitby when I was younger and you would have thought I'd have realised that Captain Cook was from Yorkshire. Sorry Mum, I was listening….honest!

So we've finally left Ohakune after more weeks of work, some brilliant skiing, a day out at golf, and a well earned free canoe trip. I think the last time Phil wrote he mentioned the disappearing snow? Well, there was a big storm at the beginning of October. This was in time for the school holidays, which was good for the local businesses, and us too as we had the long awaited free time to enjoy the snow. We even went off piste! Phil now thinks he's a true expert.








On a freak spare day in Ohakune, when we couldn't go up the mountain (due to poor weather), we headed over to Waioru, about 20km away to visit the war museum that they have there. It was very good, but involved a LOT of reading. New Zealand have played an active part in most wars since the Boer war, and there are plenty of interesting stories and information that the museum had to show.



Heidi, Kirby and the girls came to visit in time for Ohakune's carrot carnival during the school holidays. I think it was the busiest I've ever seen Ohakune. Lots of carrot shaped things everywhere, even a carrot parade, and carrot cake contest, which Donna the chef from Kings won. We got to sample it and it was a mighty fine carrot cake, a deserved winner.





The next day was when the snowstorm came. The contrast in the two days was unbelievable! Bright sunshine and flip-flop weather one day and thermals and gumboots the next. Roads were blocked so people couldn't leave town for a few hours, even days. We always think it's just the UK that comes to a standstill when it's really snowy. Well it's not.



With Simon, our boss at Canoe Safaris, there had been a mention of the possibility of us being able to do a canoe trip free of charge before we left town. This was very vaguely talked about in Simon's great way of vaguely talking about things. Maybe he didn't really want us to take him up on his halfhearted offer, but we weren’t going to let that one get away! He ended up trying to persuade us to go with a group of people that had been working up the mountain on the ski fields. We knew one of the guys who was organising their trip and he said that it would probably be a boozy trip and that everyone knew each other quite well. We really didn't feel like being the spare parts and asked Simon if we could hold out and see if there was anyone else going out individually another day, which he reluctantly agreed. However, our luck was in; I arrived back at the motel on an evening a few days later to see that Simon had loaded a kayak on his roof rack – someone had made a last-minute booking for a trip the following day. This prompted me asking whether there was any chance of us going on the trip too and he said yes that should be fine. I was annoyed he hadn't let us know sooner as there were quite a few things we needed to get organised for a 3 day trip down the Whanganui. With Phil at work I had 30 minutes to get the necessary things from the supermarket. I made a mad trolley dash to get all the food we would need for 3 days away from civilization. I returned from the shops to see our canoe on the roof of Simon's minibus next to the kayak. It was a nice sight and was the sign of our life outside Ohakune! Hooooray!

The next morning quickly arrived; we packed our gear into the necessary blue barrels that were watertight and to be tied onto the canoe in case we capsized. Ignoring this possibility(!) we loaded our barrels and selves onto the minibus where one of our fellow travellers awaited. He was a 24 year old rugby-playing physiotherapist called Remy, from Burgundy in France. We got transferred into another bus at a halfway point and joined a German couple Roman and Ruth. They had only just arrived in NZ and looked very clean and organised. If they were a pair of towels they would have been neatly folded, crisp and white.

We arrived at Whakahoro, the launching point, and after a briefing and being shown how to paddle (Phil was the steering wheel at the back, I was the engine, at the front) we were loaded into our canoes and off we went. Just like that! Suddenly on our own, navigating NZ’s longest navigable river. The full length is 329km long, but we were only traveling about a fifth of this over 3 days. However, it was still daunting knowing there were no roads or any kind of civalisation anywhere in the national park.

A bit of history: The river was first inhabited by the Maori who believed each bend in the river had a guardian that controlled its life force. They built settlements along the river choosing the most practical places to catch the fish and eels. In about the 1840's the Europeans began using the river as a way of transporting their goods to the towns and villages up the river, this apparently being best and easiest route to the interior of the North Island. It later became popular with tourists and travellers. In 1917 the NZ government tried to ease the return of servicemen from WWI by opening up areas of the national park for them to build farms and use the land for cattle. There were well-intended plans for roads and bridges etc, in order to make the accessibility of the farms a bit easier. This seemed like a good idea but the government was pretty slow with their help, and the servicemen quickly realised that the land was very poor quality for farming with little goodness for cattle. Most of the animals died, and the farmers abandoned their farms and the land. Now there is only one clear sign that the land was ever used for anything – a bridge over a river in the middle of the forest. it is now known as the Bridge to Nowhere. (We would be passing a track leading to this bridge on our canoe journey.)

As we set off down the river I was awestruck with the massiveness of the gorge the river had created. On both sides we were surrounded by steep cliffs, waterfalls, native bush and the sound of the native birds, it was quite overwhelming. As the minutes turned into hours and my muscles began to ache from paddling I tried really hard to focus on the abnormality of being in a canoe in such a peaceful part of the world. Gradually all I could focus on was when were we getting to the spot we were stopping for lunch! It finally arrived and it was then I realised how basic the landing spots were. I had thought when they had said ‘landings’ that they had meant some kind of jetty to tie your canoe to. This isn't the case. The river fluctuates so much in capacity and water level that it wouldn't be possible to have a jetty. Instead you have to aim you canoe for the desired area and paddle like mad to get to the relevant side of the river, and then jump out to pull your canoe out of the river. We made use of the shelter at the first lunch spot as it was raining quite a lot by this time, and met a scotsman and fellow brit in the shelter. They were both around our age, and came across as very posh - you couldn't tell the Scotsman was from Scotland (he sounded more English than us!) and the other guy seemed to have decided we were just about worthy of chatting to, or should I say talking at. Glad to see the back of them we enjoyed our sandwiches and were joined by the rest of our group. The Germans were tucking into chorizos straight from the packet.

The afternoon on the river was very similar but with a bit more rain. Phil tried his hardest to make things less laborious by pointing out the things of interest he had highlighted on the laminated map we'd been given for the trip and I taught him lots of songs I'd learnt in girl guides. He liked this! We eventually reached the 'landing' where we were to stop and have our first night in a backcountry hut. We pulled our canoe as far out of the water as we could. We'd been told that if it kept raining the river could easily rise a couple of metres and to make sure that we tied a good knot. Phil couldn't remember the knots he'd learnt sailing so I did a quick release knot with a difference.

The hut was about 10mins walk up-hill, which took a lot of effort as we'd packed our watertight barrels with as much as we could. Still, it made us appreciate the hut when we got there. So for those that don’t know, a backcountry hut is something run by the DOC (Department of Conservation). Generally they have bunks, a wood burner, running water, and this particular one had gas for cooking. It also had a warden called Bernie, who reminded me of one of the flumps. The huts don't have any electricity or showers, and there were drop toilets and a tap outside if you're feeling brave! I was a bit surprised that there was absolutely nowhere to get change privately. You just have to hope no one is looking. Much to our initial disappointment, the guys we'd met earlier weere also staying in the hut. There were also two American's (who told everyone they were from Alaska as they'd been working there for a few summer seasons), and then the people from our group.

It actually ended up being a really nice night, and as there's no electricity it meant candle and torchlight were the only lightsource. We all sat around reading and playing cards (I think I beat Phil again at cribbage). The American's acted like Alaskans swigging bourbon from the bottle and then deciding to find and kill a wild goat outside. I'm quite glad they came back empty handed! The annoying guys were, I think, trying their hardest to be as eccentric as possible. They'd brought steak and filter coffee, and wanted us all to know about it. We on the other hand, just looked super organised as we'd brought pre-cooked lovely dishes. We made the right move sleeping on the top bunk, as that's where the heat was from the wood burner. And I'm glad I had earplugs as someone was snoring and I don't think it was me. Always difficult to tell with ear plugs! Phil assures me it wasn’t him snoring either.

The next day Phil and I were first to our canoes, Bernie came and helped us get loaded up. The river had risen substantially. I was reassured when I was reminded that it wouldn't look as fast when we were on it. Which I'm glad to say it didn't. Still, not my idea of a walk in the park, being on a dark brown fast-flowing river with just a bit of fibreglass between me and it. Our main and only stop-off before our evening stop was Mangapurua which is the landing you for the walk to the Bridge to Nowhere. On our way there it really rained, and we both had our waterproof everything's on and we were kept warm by paddling. The landing came into sight ahead of us, and we could see it was on the far side of the river on a bend, where typically the river picks up speed. The shape of the landing also demanded that we had to turn back into the current to get up the landing slope. We both paddled as hard as we could and finally made it to the landing point, but still not completely out of the river’s main current so there was a big possibility of us drifting back down river. I decided to hop out onto the landing and pull the canoe up and out of the water. I was possibly overestimating my own strength. I jumped out, got hold of the front of the canoe and pulled. Much to my surprise I was pulled in the opposite direction and into the river! It was like slow motion but there was nothing I was able to do apart from look at Phil with very wide panicked eyes and plop into the river. It took a nano second for the realisation to hit me, and the wetness!! After my initial panic, Phil remembered what we'd been told to do if anyone goes overboard, and that's for the overboadee to hold onto the canoe and for the person on board to steer the canoe to an area/edge of the river that would make it possible for the overboadee to get back in. Already we were drifting away from the landing point and quickly further down the river. Finding a good spot for me to get back in initially looked impossible (from where I was) but sure enough Phil found a tree sticking out into the river, slowing the current, and some rocks for me to climb onto, and back into the canoe. PHEW. It was then Phil reminded me I had our new camera attached to me… We decided we wouldn't worry about the camera and we were glad I was ok!
A few pictures survived!....










After this exciting episode, We gave the bridge to nowhere a miss and paddled straight to that night’s accommodation. I was soaked through. The accommodation was a Murae (a Maori meeting place) that had the fire lit when we arrived - it was like heaven! - and the fire fueled the hot water - double heaven! Brilliant! We had a hot chocolate and discussed the day’s events. Gradually everyone else arrived and there was quite a good vibe, and we all stayed up late chatting, eating and drinking.

The following day I did NOT want to get back in the canoe, the river had risen about 3 metres again overnight. Luckily for us our fellow canoeists were all quite experienced and they suggested we follow them the rest of the way. After a LOT of encouragement and reassurance I got back in the canoe. It was a much shorter distance to paddle to the end of our 3-day trip. I'm really glad we did follow the others; some bits were very choppy, like the sea on a choppy day (apparently due to the rise in the river capacity). Anyway we finally made it back onto dry land and I felt much happier.
I have never enjoyed a shower as much as I did that day.
Our fellow canoeists stayed in Ohakune for the evening so we went out and played pool and danced for the 1st time since June. The 2 guys who we had thought to be quite irritating turned out to be thoroughly nice chaps and cooked us all a big breakfast the following morning.



While we had been on the river trip, Salvador our new van was getting some much-needed TLC at the local garage! I can't even begin to explain what he needed fixing; all I know is it got done after the initial confusion with the garage losing our only key! Once we were back from the canoe trip Phil picked him up from the garage. I'm not going to say how much it cost, let’s just say we'll be not doing anything extravagant over the next few months…
Getting Salvador back meant that the work on the interior could finally begin. Sat writing this in the back of him now it's hard to believe what he once looked like. As I still had some shifts left at Kings, Phil did most of the hard work, working out how much material was needed, cutting and sticking it to the walls and doors. I helped as much as I could. It's quite amazing really, he looks like a different van. We are quite proud of him.



















Once he was finished it meant there was nothing stopping us escaping Ohakune! HOOORAY!!!

As a bit of a thank you and a goodbye from Kings, we were treated to an afternoon of golf with our bosses (Tracy and Ian) and another employee Selwyn. Who is a lovely very small Chinese man.










The actual afternoon was intended for all of the hospitality businesses in the area to get together and try the new lager that Tui (a make of lager as well as a bird) were launching called Tui Blond (without an 'e' to supposedly make it more appealing to their male customers!). This was ready available for sampling throughout the afternoon and if you needed to keep sampling that was also fine. The golf was followed with a buffet of food resembling what you would get at a christening in the late 70's (?) when deep fat frying everything was the fashion. Still it was free, as was most of the booze, so no complaints from us. This was followed by a midnight spa back at Kings. Tracy and Ian had kindly said we could stay in one of the rooms at the hotel, which meant there wasn't too far to walk to bed. All in all, a pretty good day.


Our last evening in Ohakune was spent with our friend Nic. She cooked us a lovely dinner and played her guitar and then we went for a glass of vino at a local bar. It was lovely and not too sad as we know we'll be seeing Nic in Queenstown next week and hopefully again before the end of our travels.


Saturday 24th October arrived, the day of leaving Ohakune. We'd done all of our washing, cleaned our old room, charged up the electrical things, put the auto-reply on the email system, said our goodbye's... it was time to leave. HOORAY!!

We called in for lunch at Margot's house, which was along the way as we traveled southwards. Margot is my client from the Wool Company who I did some photography for. Margot and her family are so lovely, it was a really nice way to begin our travels again.






We had decided to go south towards Wellington but for our first night kept enough away so it wasn't a huge shock to the system to be in a big city! We headed for Paraparaumu this is on the west coast about 30km north of Wellington. There we found a reasonably priced campground mainly full of “long termers” and the odd “one nighter” like us. We were greeted with a lovely sunset and the view of Kapiti Island that is famed for being NZ's biggest wild bird sanctuary. It was official..... WE WERE FREE!!


The following few days consisted of getting a few things in order before we could head off properly again. Our priority was to get a new camera and sort out the insurance for the old drowned one. We did the odd touristy sights, saving a few to do with my Mum when she's here. The Te Papa Museum was really interesting, but was so big I was over-reading after the 3rd hour. They did have a giant squid which (when caught) was the only live giant squid that has ever been caught, and was found in about 2006. It was in a big display unit in some sort of liquid. But you could get really close to see it, and it had rotating hooks on its tentacles, with each hook being 5cm long and each tentacle had about 20 hooks on it. Not something you'd like to meet down a dark alley.

Wellington seems like quite a cool arty city, much moreso than Auckland. It was nice to spend some time there, but we were both very glad to get on the Interislander ferry to get to the South Island.




Well, that was for the 1st 15 minutes until the captain warned us of the rather larger swell there was on the Cook Strait… Wow boy, it was huge - 6 metres in fact!! Phil thought it was quite funny at first, doing videos and taking pictures out of the window. Then he went a bit quiet and then he went a bit green. I'd overheard a crewmember telling another passenger that it felt less rocky the lower down on the boat you are. We moved as quickly as we could and it did seem a bit less rocky but I'm not sure if it was or not, as we'd passed the section of the Strait were the Tasman Sea and the Pacific Ocean meet (or should I say collide in this instance). Anyway we were happy they were showing Coronation Street on the onboard TV’s, as it occupied us for an hour.

We arrived in Picton and drove straight to the site Phil had sourced. It was dark so we didn't really know where we were parking. We realised at about 2am, 3am, and 5am that we must be near a railway bridge!

Picton is much nicer than I'd remembered it, I think they've made a big effort there as most people just arrive and either drive South or hop on the ferry. We went to the local DOC office and booked our water taxi and campsites for the Queen Charlotte Track (a 71km tramp along the coast of the Marlborough sounds) that we were intending to do later that week.



In the afternoon we decided to go and explore a bit more of the Marlborough region. No wine tasting this time – that can wait. We made our way to a place called Pelorus Bridge; the drive took us along the Queen Charlotte drive and along the sounds themselves. The road was incredibly windy and steep but the weather and views were spectacular. It gave us a taster of what we'd be seeing on our tramp later in the week. We found a perfect spot to have lunch overlooking the sounds. It felt very strange to be wearing our shorts and flip-flops when not even a week before I was still wearing my thermals!



The campsite at Pelorus Bridge was lovely and had the added bonus of free hot showers – not normal at Doc campsites. We arrived there and decided to do the walk to the top of the nearby hill. We'd been told this would take 4 hours so we knew we'd be pushing it as we only had that amount of time until sunset. We did the walk in 2 hours and it was very steep, Phil was extremely happy about this, yet again beating the DOC recommended walking time.



That evening we had our 1st encounter with a wild possum. They are a much hated pest over here (I personally think Kiwi's say that about everything so they don't feel bad for shooting anything that moves). They apparently eat lots of protected birds' eggs and strip the native trees of their bark making them vulnerable to disease. This particular possum was just outside our van and when I shined the torch directly at it, it seemed to go into a trance - a bit like a rabbit in headlights. Nothing happened - it didn't suddenly jump at us or do anything scary, it just stayed still. No wonder they are so easy to shoot. It reminded me of a raccoon.

The following day we visited a more remote place called Duncan bay. It was so remote it was quite difficult to imagine anyone living there. We drove the windy route up to the hamlet and found about a dozen houses that looked inhabited and there were a few boats moored in the bay. The water was so clear and calm it looked like glass.







Then we took the long windy road back to Picton driving through Havelock that is famed for its green-shelled mussels. Much to Phil's disappointment the cafe that sold them was shut.

We arrived back in Picton in time for me to drop my camera gear off at the i-site (the local information centre) where they have lockers. This was for the few days we were intending to walk the Queen Charlotte track and we would be leaving Salvador in an unmanned car park.

We woke early the next day, our rucksacks all ready and packed. It was a lovely morning, a bit fresh but the light was amazing. We made our way to where our boat taxi was departing from, feeling strange carrying our rucksacks. I am very glad we do not have to do this all the time! As my Sister would testify, I become a slightly grumpier Meg when I am carrying my rucksack. I thought in the 9 years since Becci and I were travelling that maybe this would have changed, but no. I do not like carrying a fully packed rucksack! I am happy to say that the price of our water taxi also included the service for our bags to be picked up and dropped off at the different campgrounds we were staying at each day. Hooray!

The water taxi began its journey with us and a few other trampers going to various places along the track. It took us along the Marlborough sounds, which we'd come through on the Ferry but it had been dark and as I mentioned before, rather choppy! On this morning the water looked like glass. The driver pointed out some penguins floating on the water, and they were tiny. Then a gasp from a few other travellers caught my attention. I went to see what was happening and there were a school of dolphins alongside the boat. They were very close to the boat, and they played in the wake for a while. It was brilliant! It was Phil's first close-up wild dolphin experience. And he was very excited!

After about 40 minutes the boat arrived at Ship’s cove, where we would start our walk from. In a nut shell, this is where Captain Cook first set foot on New Zealand land and was confronted by the Maori's. He finally got his point across and they let him come ashore... to continue his exploring and data collecting etc.





ah haaa I hear you say, this is when Meg finally realised where captain Cook came from. It's just how my brain works. If school had've taken me to Ship’s cove and I could have seen what they were talking about, it might have made more sense. Instead they just took me to Whitby!

So this is where we started our 4-day walk. The walk goes along 71km of the Marlborough sounds that consist of lots of hills alongside many picturesque bays and inlets. Overall the walk was more strenuous than we'd been led to believe, as the DOC had graded the walk as ‘easy’. I was glad that we had started on this one and not gone straight in for a harder walk. I felt sorry for a few people who'd obviously thought it was going to be much easier than it was and seemed to be struggling, some were just in trainers and hadn’t brought walking boots.

The first night we stayed at a campsite called Miners Camp, but this was basically a bit of grass in Bev and Bob's orchard, next to their rabbit hutches and their gigantic rabbits. Phil was a bit annoyed by the amount of hen-pecking going on, but this wasn't by me but about 10 chickens that wouldn't leave us alone. He was also VERY happy to be getting his tent out for the first time since we've been over here. We have to put it up like it's some kind of military operation - in a specific order and in synchronisation. He was also happy to be using his new Primus cooker. This boils water in less than 3 minutes! On this particular evening we were testing out the Backcountry meals that are dehydrated meals they have over here for walkers. On the menu was Thai Red Curry and then a portion of sweetcorn and peas that was meant to feed 5 people. It was pleasantly delicious and we were satisfyingly full. It was much better than the beanfeast that I had when I was hiking in Iceland!! We were in bed for about 8pm as it had turned into a cold and miserable evening and there was nowhere dry to sit outside, so we read while it was still light.





The morning was much the same; a bit miserable to begin with, but improved as the day went on. The walk was only a couple of hours so we took our time and used our tree and bird identification books to make the walk more interesting.



When we arrived at the next campground our bags hadn’t arrived at the jetty yet, so we walked around to another jetty a bit further along the bay. Unbeknown to us there was a resort there and they had the most picturesque bar overlooking the bay. It was like something out of Condenast Traveler Magazine, and it sold Monteith's on tap. Not quite real ale, but it's the next best thing! As it was the 31st October, our friends Sadie and Steve were due to get married, so we decided to have a beer in their honour. We'd also brought some wine to have with dinner (if you can call dehydrated rice and chicken dinner?) for the occasion so we had that too.



Later we had a walk to the bay and watched some fish jumping out of the water possibly trying to escape with their lives - it kept us entertained for a while, then we went to bed! It was another cold night; I tried to keep all the heat in my sleeping bag leaving only a small gap for fresh air. We must have looked like two big slugs. I woke at 2.30am and woke Phil up to take a picture of where we were when Sadie and Steve got married!



After our morning muesli we took the tent down and got on our way, saying goodbye to our rucksacks for the day. The route took us up a steep climb to the top of Kenepuru saddle. It was a hard slog first thing in the morning with the sun beating down on us. The walk took us across the top of the hills which had the most amazing views and made the effort worthwhile.








The rest of the day gradually got a bit easier but was by far the hardest and most rewarding day we had done. This could have been helped by the glorious sunshine making the water below look so translucent and the colours really vivid. The terrain was quite varied which made the walking interesting. The previous days were primarily through thick forest and bush areas, not opening up to show us where we’d walked from. I don’t know about you but I need to be able to give myself a pat on the back as often as possible!


It was a great sight to see the road that led to the campsite we were due to stay at for the evening. With the sun still shining I made the most of the cold running water and washed my hair for the first time in a few days. I felt like a new woman, isn’t it amazing what shampoo can do?! It felt very strange to be in a campsite that people could drive to – the others we’d stayed at had been properly off the beaten track. It meant it was a bit busier than the other nights, especially as it was a bank holiday weekend (only for the Marlborough region). I was a bit envious of the Kiwis camped opposite us who were making the most of their massive bbq! The local people really seem to make the most of their time off and the great campsites. That particular one was $7 per person per night. No showers though!

We woke in the night to go to the loo. Usually Phil wakes up and I make myself go with him as I don’t want to wake up an hour later and have to go on my own as there are never any street lights or lights in the toilet. The stars were so amazing. You know when you look at the sky and can’t believe how many there are – it’s like that quite a lot here. Phil bought me a star book for my birthday so I’ve been learning a bit about them. The Southern Cross is probably the most famous, but there’s also a false cross so you have to be careful not to get them mixed up. Orion is visible over here too, just upside down! All the stars are also given Maori names and have legends. But I miss the plough and seeing the moon the right way round!

Monday was our last day and I was glad the sun wasn’t as hot. We seemed to motor on faster than the day before and saw a lot more walkers and bikers. We’d met a couple the night before who were walking the whole track there AND back just so that they didn’t have to pay for the water taxi. They were doing 142km in 6 days carrying their rucksacks and a tent and everything. Wow dude, imagine the mood I’d have been in after that… They had warned us there wasn’t anything at Anakiwa, where we were due to finish, but I still dreamt of an ice cream even though there was no point. I was getting to the stage where my feet were starting to say ‘When are you going to take your boots off? I’m, like, totally tired down here. Not another corner, oh no, I can’t enjoy this downhill bit because I know it means there’s a uphill bit coming soon….’

Suddenly, there was the sign… QUEEN CHARLOTTE TRACK…. We’d done it! AND there was an ice cream shop. Brilliant!



We spent the few hours waiting for our water taxi back to Picton with a guy we’d met called Andrew, who was a really nice guy but extremely quiet. He did the track on his mountain bike. I got the impression he liked to be with us but not say much. We all read and snoozed by the jetty listening to the kids running up and down and the water lapping the beach. It was a lovely way to end the walk.




(Phil wrote the next bit....)


We arrived back in Picton and immediately packed up Salvador and headed over to Nelson. We were very smelly, having not had a shower for 4 days, but we had decided to get on our way rather than spend another night in Picton. We arrived in Nelson as it was beginning to get dark, but managed to have a very welcome shower and then headed into town to treat ourselves to burger and chips at the Vic Brewery bar – this is the home of Mac’s beer, which we have become strong patrons of since our time in NZ.



We had tonnes of washing to do after our big walk, so we had set aside the next day for doing lots of chores and getting properly clean. We found a hostel in Nelson that had free internet and we made use of the laundry facilities and kitchen. We had mixed feelings about being in a travellers hostel. We were definitely on the older side of most of the guests, and the whole place was quite cliquey – lots of young travellers trying to impress members of the opposite sex. We didn’t have such things to worry about, so instead we burnt our home-made muesli and got really angry with ourselves. Oh dear. We made ourselves feel better by going to watch some jazz in the evening. Niiiiiice.




The next day we enquired in the DOC office about our hopes to do the Routeburn track before The Arrival Of Carol Hodson. The Routeburn track is in Fiordland and is one of our big aims while we are in NZ. It is a 3 – 5 day hike and is supposed to be incredible. Unfortunately, the DOC officer informed us that parts of the track were still impassable after the winter’s snow, and that the forecast for the next week or so was not very favourable. So we re-jigged our plans, and decided to casually make our way down to Queenstown in time for the aforementioned lady’s arrival about 2 weeks later.
Therefore we headed over to the Abel Tasman region for the next few days. Everyone we have met has mentioned how amazing this area of NZ is, and in fairness, they are pretty much spot on. We headed to the northern end, Takaka, and stayed in a DOC campsite called Totaranui. Apparently in the summer this campsite gets completely booked up for weeks at a time and you have to put your name in a lottery if you want to stay there over the Christmas/New year period. This, in a campsite that can accommodate 850 people!










While we were there it was relatively empty and was nice and peaceful. We enjoyed the sandy beach and I even tried a bit of swimming. But the sea is still pretty cold, having not warmed up for the summer yet, so my pitiful effort did not last long.
We spent one day doing a long walk around the coastal headland, which gave us great views of Wainui bay, where Abel Tasman first moored his boat, and we also went to Separation point, where we were informed a seal colony regularly visited. Well, we saw 3 seals, which wasn’t great, but better than nothing, I guess.

We stayed in the Abel Tasman park for a couple of days, and then decided to get on our way. We went up the coast further to Golden Bay, and Collingwood. The area is noted for its artists who have galleries to visit so we made the most of it and paid a visit to some potters and painters. We stopped off in Collingwood and took a walk along the beach which had a flock of very timid Oyster-catchers, and also some ladies fishing for whitebait. They told us about the process which seemed very time-consuming and requiring a lot of patience, but they all LOVE whitebait patties over here.




We had lunch at a very cool place called The Mussel Inn, that Heidi and Kirby had recommended. It brewed its own beer and served fresh green-lipped mussels. They take great pride in their mussels in the area as the mussels are larger and more succulent than the usual mussels we are used to in the UK. They were delicious.




We also stopped at Pupu Springs, which claim to be the world's largest (and clearest) freshwater springs in the world. It was certainly very impressive, and the amazing colours that you could see in the crystal clear water was incredible. There were bubbles of water coming up from underneath all around, but in a very calming way. It was lovely.



Over the next few days we headed over to the West coast. We stayed at Owen’s River reserve on the way to Murchison, which is an old gold-mining town (they all seem to be old gold-mining towns around here), but they had a pretty horrific earthquake in the 1920’s that their museum featured a lot of artefacts and stories from. The elderly lady in the museum (Gertie) was charming and very helpful, and mentioned in passing that she had pulled her sister from a landfall in the earthquake. It was only later when we went to visit New Zealand’s Longest Swingbridge that we saw the same lady’s heroics mentioned on an information board that we could fully take in the fact that we had been talking to a living legend.







We had considered staying in Westport for an evening, but after going to Cape Foulwind (what an awesome name – frustratingly we failed to get a picture of the welcome sign) to see some more seals (and we saw a lot more this time), our quick drive through Westport failed to stir up any positive emotions. It was like a poor mans’ Witham. If anyone reading this knows what Witham, Essex, is like, then you will shudder at the prospect of Westport.




Therefore we continued to make our way towards Punakaiki, where we wanted to see the Pancake Rocks the next day.

When we woke in the morning, we made our way to the visitor centre who informed us that the best time to see the rocks was at high tide, which would be later in the afternoon. With this in mind, we decided to go for a couple of local walks, before finishing off with the rocks later on. We headed into the Paparoa National Park, which is famed for its limestone formations. We walked up and down the Pororari valley, which was very beautiful. We also explored the Punakaiki caverns, which were very dark, and did a short coastal walk, that had a cool beach.




The rocks were undoubtedly the highlight of the day. I was ready to dismiss them as nothing special, but I was very wrong. I was mightily impressed. They were fantastic. Seeing the waves crash into the rocks and the effect they had on the blowholes was really cool. The Pancake effect comes from a layering of the limestone (they call it ‘Stylobedding’) which over time has caused the rocks to appear layered like pancakes. There are tall columns of these all over, with random holes going right down to the sea, so when the waves come into land and hit the rocks, the water is forced up through these holes, giving a spouting effect that you would normally expect from a whale.






That night we stayed in Rapahoe, right by the sea, and attempted to get our clothes clean and dry. We only half-managed this task, as although the washing machine worked as it should, the dryer was TERRIBLE. Also, as a side note, nearly all the washing machines we have come across in New Zealand use COLD water to wash the clothes. We find this a bit odd, and pretty useless.



The following day we had plenty of boring chores to do, as well as plenty of wet (but clean!) clothes to dry, so spent quite a bit of time at Greymouth laundry and library. Once we had ticked off most of our to-do list, we decided to treat ourselves to a tour around the Monteith’s brewery. Monteith’s, along with the aforementioned Mac’s Beer, is the most well-known of the NZ brewers, and have managed to export to places like America and Europe – in fact, we asked if they exported to England, and apparently Waitrose stock their beer, so if you visit a Waitrose in the near future, you should look out for a Monteith’s beer, and you can pretend that you are with us in spirit.
The tour around the brewery was very interesting. Despite having a non-professional interest in beer and its associated drinks, I didn’t know much about the actual brewing process. They prided themselves on following traditional methods, and were very good and answering all our very probing questions. The Greymouth brewery actually only accounts for about 5-10% of the final Monteith’s output, and it is likely that their umbrella brewery, DB, who have huge breweries in Auckland and Christchurch, probably aren’t quite so careful (or bothered) about keeping to such tradition when they brew their Monteith’s batches. But anyway, Greymouth was the original home of Monteith’s, and they were keen to impress upon us that they were keeping with time-honoured tradition.
They showed us the barley that they bought in, and we were allowed to taste them to see the difference in the beers from the start. The barleys are mixed with spring water from the southern alps, then the hops are added. These are then filtered off, and the whole mixture is cooled down. The beer is then contained in massive vats and the yeast is added. The yeast they use is 200 years old (from Denmark), and they use the same yeast for different batches for 3 month periods at a time. The yeast activates all the enzymes ‘and stuff’ in the beer, which creates the alcohol. This stage takes about 6 weeks. Then there are the final filtering stages, and then it’s the taste test!! This was obviously the best bit, and we got to try the full range of 7 beers, and their new cider. It seems that the UK’s cider craze of the last 2-4 years has reached NZ, and all the breweries are releasing their own versions of Magners and Bulmers. So, it was a tough job having to sample all the beers, but it was an essential part of the tour. We felt quite light-headed afterwards, but this was surely just a symptom of all the fascinating information that we had just been taking in, and the beer had nothing to do with it.







In the evening, we went further towards Hokitika, and camped at a DOC campsite beside Lake Mahinapua. The next day we planned to go into Hokitika and get Meg a greenstone necklace.

When Meg came to NZ in 2000 with her sister she did buy a greenstone necklace, but did not realize that Maori’s believe you shouldn’t buy greenstone (or Jade, as most people would recognize it) for yourself. Therefore, whenever she wore it, it kept falling off. It has mystical powers, you see, a bit like Lord of the Rings, which is apt seeing as we are in Middle Earth.
Meg has since given said necklace to me (Phil, for it is me writing this now) and the necklace has never fallen off. (Well, actually it did once, but we’ll ignore that for the sake of the story).
So in Hokitika we planned for me to buy Meg a greenstone necklace, so that she wouldn’t be cursed with a falling-off necklace any more. It was quite cool, seeing all the workshops that were visible and seeing the craft that goes into shaping the stone. Most stones are shaped into conventional maori images – the hook, or the spiral, or twist. Meg wanted something a bit simpler and less polished, so we found a really beautiful pendant, a lot lighter greenstone than most of what is available. Meg is very happy with it, so that makes me happy.



From Hokitika, we headed further down the coast road, through some tiny settlements towards a place called Okarito. We went by one bay called Bruce Bay, which has thousands of little cairns all along the beach, which was about a mile long. It was quite cool, so we did our own little cairn, and took some photos.




On our way we passed through Whatoroa. As we did so, Meg screamed with excitement as she recognized a craft shop where she had bought the greenstone necklace (now mine) 9 years ago. We went in to meet the owner and share our excitement, but he was unfortunately away for a couple of weeks. In his place, the attendant showed adequate excitement for us, and was keen for us to see some other of the owner’s carvings in the shop. The big draw was a whale jawbone that the owner had been gifted with from some friends in the Chatham Islands about 2 years ago. The owner has carved dozens of smaller items from this and they were all amazing beautiful. They had carbon-dated evidence that the whale bone had been dated to 3500 years ago, which the attendant tried to convince us was the oldest bone ever found in New Zealand and may have connections to mythological maori heroes. I have my doubts about this, as surely they wouldn’t allow the oldest bone ever discovered in NZ to be chopped up into tiny sections and have jewellery carved from?! Anyway, sceptic that I am, there were some amazing pieces there.



Okarito, where we stayed for the evening, also extracted a squeal from Meg. As we slowly made our way to the campsite at one end of the village, Meg realized that she had also been here 9 years ago with her sister. We attempted to recreate a photo of Meg with the same background so that we can compare it to her old one when we are back in the UK.



Okarito is next to Okarito lagoon, which is home to 100’s of nesting herons in the spring months (which it is currently). To get the best view of the herons, you really need to go on a guided tour as the nesting areas are at the far end of the lagoon. We did our best to see what we could from Okarito and saw a heron flying around, which briefly satisified our cravings. We are avid bird watchers now, and are constantly keeping our eagle eyes peeled.

Our next stop was at Franz Josef and Fox Glaciers. Unfortunately it wasn't the clearest of days, so we didn't have the best conditions to view the glaciers. People have told us to do some ice hikes or ice-climbs, but we will save this for another time when the weather is better, we will almost certainly be coming this way again over the next few months. We did take the obligatory walk to the face of the Franz Josef glacier, which was pretty cool, and seeing the area that it covered only 50 years ago is incredible when you realise how much it's retreated.




In the evening, we stopped at Lake Paringa, a DOC campsite by a huge lake. It was only a small campsite so the facilities were minimal (just a toilet), but it was quite relaxing.

From Lake Paringa, we had decided to head over to Wanaka, but we wanted to stop off at a couple of places on the way. We stopped at Munro beach first, where we hoped to see some Fiordland-Crested Penguins. However, when we arrived we were informed that the best time to see them was early in the morning just after dawn. We had got there at about 11am, so we were disappointed to just see an empty beach with waves crashing into it. Ho-hum.



The second place we stopped at was Jackson Bay. This was slightly out of our way, as we had to take a side road for 50km through very remote and isolated farmland. Jackson Bay was supposed to thrive as a fishing port, and in the 1800’s hundreds of immigrants were given farmland there, but the government (in true style) failed to keep investing in the area, and without even a jetty or wharf for the fishing boats, the township failed and nearly everyone left. Now there is just a few people remaining and one small diner/café place called The Cray Pot. It did the most fantastic fish and chips and we enjoyed our lunch looking out onto the few fishing boats there were in the harbour. The kind girl working there suggested we have a short walk along the bay to see if we could see any of the Fiordland Crested Penguins that we had missed earlier in the morning.






The bay was covered in large stones and boulders that you had to carefully negotiate, so we were only really looking 2 or 3 steps ahead of us a time, and then looking out to sea to see if there were any penguins. We had been walking, or rather, jumping from rock to rock for about half an hour when it happened. I was about 5 metres ahead of Meg, and was concentrating on my footing, for these rocks were occasionally uneven and slippy. I was just about to take my next step when I realized what I was about to step on – a sunbathing seal! However, this wasn’t your pretty tiny seal that you get in cute nature documentaries; this was a large female, as black as a rock (which didn’t really help, as that was what I was hoping to find). I have read quite a lot recently about seals as we have been visiting a few breeding sites, and all the info has stressed not to get too close to seals as they can be quite dangerous, especially in the breeding/mating season. Well, I didn’t want to be eaten, or even mated, by a seal, so I said a rather rude word, and turned on my heel as quickly as I could. The seal, who was just waking up, saw the sight of a very tasty Phil hovering above her and let out an almightly ‘RROOAARRRR!’, and pulled itself up onto its flippers. Meg said she has never seen me move so fast. Of course, this Killer Seal couldn’t keep up with me, so it settled down to a pretend sleep, quietly awaiting its next victim. Of course, my first thoughts were of saving Meg from any other impending Seal Danger, and I ushered her away from the beach in case there were any other dangerous cute animals lying around waiting to be stepped on. She didn’t laugh, honest.




We drove on from Jackson Bay back to the main road and onto Wanaka. This was an awesome drive, as we made our way through the southern end of the southern alps, and were treated to a warm, calm afternoon, with plenty of photo opportunities. At nearly every corner there was someone who had pulled over for some picture-taking, and it felt like proper NZ postcard country – snow covered hills all around, beautiful blue lakes, and lush farmland.

In Wanaka, we made our way to one of the main campgrounds, as there is a dearth of DOC campsites in the area. Meg also wanted to get a shower, which you don’t tend to get at the basic DOC sites. I should note at this point that I sometimes like showers too.

We have now had 2 full days in Wanaka, and it seems very nice, if a little posh and very trendy. It is beautifully located by the lakeside, and has got some amazing hills and mountains on all sides. Last night we ventured into town to watch the New Zealand football team play against Bahrain in their World cup play-off. We found 2 pubs showing it, and it seemed strange to watch what I would consider to be a huge game in a quite empty pub. Football obviously is nowhere near as popular as rugby here, but the radio stations and newspapers had been really building up to the game so I had expected their to be more of a turn-out, but I guess it will always play second fiddle to the game with the funny shaped ball.
Today we had climbed what I think is probably our biggest ever hill. We have been up to Roy’s Peak, which is 1598metres high. Considering the carpark is only at about 300m above sea level, we went up a pretty long way. It was continuous up-hill for 3 solid hours, and our legs had already decided that they were unhappy after the first half an hour. Needless to say that the journey downhill was much easier and we did it in half the time. The view from the top was incredible, and gave a full panorama of the unbelievable landscape that they have here.










We rewarded our legs with a trip to the spa in Wanaka afterwards, and can now start to rearrange Salvador in preparation for The (impending) Arrival of Carol Hodson.