Punakaiki and the Wild West Coast - Day 8
The next morning, after sharing the pools and conversation with three generations of men from Christchurch, all named Nelson, we left the Victoria Forest and headed to the wild west side of the island.
Our destination for the day was Punakaiki. As usual, we were in the car for more hours than we thought, traveling along a winding up and down road that measured only a couple inches on the map. Thankfully, this included several stops along the way. Reefton, a mining town that was born from the 1860 gold rush, is another example of the diversity of New Zealand’s locales. Its wooden sidewalks, led down a main street littered with antique shops, old clapboard hotels, mercantile shops and a café which of course we stopped at for a flat white. And low and behold we met the Nelsons again, who greeted us with open smiles and warm hearts as if we were family. We found the curiosity and friendliness of the Kiwis amazing!
Reaching the coast, we understood why they called this the Wild West. With a population of
only 35k for the entire west side of the South Island, a great expanse of emptiness opened before us. Silvery grey sandy beaches, and crystalline waves crashed onto the shoreline in a continuous ballet. Empty beach after beach stretched out along the highway as far as the eye could see.
We stopped at the sign “Seal Colony” and took the 28K diversion along a narrow farm road. At a sea cliff edge, we were greeted by a pod of 20 seals playing in the waves with babies flopping about looking for their mothers who were bathing in the sun, hiding for quick reprieve from motherhood.
Finally, reaching the tiny hamlet of Punakaiki, we were hot, tired, road weary and lost. That’s when the shit hit the fan...traveling transitions are always fun. For over 30 minutes we drove back and forth along the windy road looking for Punakaiki Beach Club, a highly rated hodgepodge of communal buildings, campsites and tiny houses. Turns out it was tucked behind a combo gas station, hotel, bar that acted as the town center.
Since it was Valentine’s Day, I had booked a romantic cabin on the water, or so I thought, only to discover it was a tiny house on stilts with a single lamp, a small bed and a deck that overlooked a swampy marsh choked with sandflies. We had to walk quite a distance to a
bathhouse, laundry and kitchen shared with at least several hundred people. The famous WIFI included in our luxury accommodation could only be accessed in the exact center of the large campground. We immediately began to argue, as only annoying travel changes can inspire, until we made it to the Pub for a bottle or two of local Chardonnay. Then back to our sugar shack for a delicious dinner of GF gnocchi with homemade Bolognese sauce and fresh spinach salad with local fruit all prepared in our camper. Lesson learned. The campground was nice and closer to the beach and amenities. All in all, we found camping in our van the most comfortable place to lay our heads. Kiwis know best.
Pancake Rock and the Pororari River Track- Day 9
After a short night’s sleep due to the intermittent sandfly invasions, we headed out skirting by the Whitebait Burger Guy before he could try and sell us a slimy minnow burger for breakfast. We didn’t quite make it.
“They are a New Zealand specialty,” he beamed from his tiny cart. “You can only catch them in September or October.” He showed us proudly a container filled with slimy, tiny white minnow sized fish that were caught in September. But it was mid-February. “Only 15NZ. Want one?” Nope. “No time for breakfast,” we said and ran for the van.
Following Kate’s spirit tour guide again, we headed across the street to the Paparoa Track. Also known as the Pororari River Track, it was a beautiful rainforest hike beside a crystal-clear river. Again, the forest felt enchanted, filled with old spirits and the river softly sang to us as we hiked along. Native birds played telephone tag across the water calling and answering in sweet tones. We climbed hobbit-like steps that went up and then under giant tree roots and through limestone archways all in the cover of a tropical and deciduous canopy. We followed the trail to the first suspension bridge 6.5K in and swayed our way across it. It was another dimension.
There are 195 suspension bridges in New Zealand. They are most commonly found on the tramping (hiking) tracks. The structures, known as swing bridges, are suspended two mental cables and can span a considerable distance. Cheap to build, they provide a way to cross rivers and ravines and are found throughout the treks.
Then off we went to Pancake Rock, another famous area attraction, one I thought we could skip but we were so glad we didn’t. It is an amazing national treasure, a loop trail filled with botanical gardens with plaques naming the native vegetation. Giant blowholes and sedimentary limestone sculptures that resembled haphazard stacks of pancakes lined the ocean below our high trail.
Filled with nature and refreshed, we returned to our camper and headed down the road to Otto McDonald Campground in the glacier region with a side trip to the adorable seaside town of Hokitika. (Think of Seal Beach, CA in the 50’s.) Then to our destination, a DOC campsite that we thought would be just a place to park for the night. This beautiful
destination surprised us again. Nestled in the wetlands of southwest New Zealand, Otto McDonald Campground bordered pristine Lake Mapourika encased in snowcapped mountains and a thick virgin forest edged by a clean white sand beach. Like kids we grabbed our suits and dove in, washing the road away and rinsing the sandflies out of our soul. Best Day Yet!
...More on the Wetlands of Southwest New Zealand at Lake Mapourika
I woke up early to the sound of the wekas, the flightless native birds whose song resembles the American loon. With a cup of English breakfast in hand, I headed to the tiny beach to catch the early morning light. A Kotuku or white heron flew across the lake. White capped mountains, thick green forests and the white wings of heron painted its mirror-like surface. A small fishing boat looking for the perfect spot, trolled across the center leaving a wake of silver ripples. And the sandflies and bees seemed excited to see me again.
The Magnificent Glaciers - Day 10
Another five-hour drive seemed less difficult as we watched in wonder at the scenery. After leaving the precious wetlands, we entered Glacier Country with its slate gray and silver rivers cascading down from the Franz Joseph Glacier. The air was so clear if felt like drinking some exotic liquid. Cool and deep like a secret elfin brew. The road crossed river after river, some gray, some turquoise blue, some a deep purple, each colored by the glacier mineral elixir. We stopped at the base of the Glacier and collected stones of slate grey with sliver strips. Then off to Fox Glacier and another Kate point of interest, Lake Matherson.
Hiking a trail 4.4k (return) around Lake Matherson was a great way to see Mt. Cook from afar. Mt. Taseman (3498m/11473ft) and Mt. Cook (3754m/12,316ft) towered in the distance and were reflected perfectly in the mirror lake. Tim, like a kid in a candy shop, stopped every few minutes for another perfect photo.
We stopped for a flatwhite, and an English Breakfast tea, always served the British way, in a pot, at the Café Matherson. Flatwhites are New Zealand’s answer to a short latte, except with New Zealand’s version, the foam is so creamy you’d be tempted to eat it with a spoon. Which we often did. It’s all those lucky cows we’ve passed along the roadside, chewing on the emerald green pastures. We bought a wooden carved Kiwi plaque for our home in Colorado. A small token to remember this trip of a lifetime. Then our long trek began in earnest, a two day stay in Wanaka in a “luxury hotel”. We traveled up, and over Haast pass along a crystal blue glacier fed river, roadside waterfalls and forever winding roads.
Wanaka - Day 10
Wanaka was an assault on our senses with so many cars, signs, and people. We arrived only to find that I had made the reservation for the following month and that there wasn’t a room in town. The hotel owner called a friend who had a cancellation and a room for one night. “We’ll take it!” we said. We made good use of the spacious room devouring the internet, doing a week’s worth of laundry and the hot shower or two before heading to town and one of the most amazing dinners yet at Kika. Kika, a nouveau French restaurant, featured woodfire cooked, local everything. We had a whole sole fillet cooked on the fire in a light, etheric beurre Blanc sauce and local turnips with crispy fried whole basil leaves. Our patata frittas were crisp with a touch of rosemary and coarse sea salt. The roasted carrots were wood burnt to perfection and served in a yogurt lemon sauce. And for dessert, we had a frangipane tart with raspberries and ice cream. We bought the kitchen a round of drinks to thank them and claimed profusely to the shy chef that the food was exquisite. He looked a little scared at our American enthusiasm or maybe just our wine fed jubilance. It is known as one of the restaurants in New Zealand and is open as we speak.
Queenstown - Day 11
After a restless night, (in our Wanaka motel room), we packed our van with clean clothes and supplies and headed to Queenstown to take a look. Unlike most travelers who stay in the many upscale accommodations, we decided to camp on the outskirts of town. In Queenstown, the houses are built on the hillside facing a shimmering lake. They looked as if they would tumble down at any moment. The city has a European flair, upscale with classic white clapboard architecture with old English style hotels with fancy restaurants. Affluent looking people drank wine on patios facing the waterfront and looked bored. We naturally gravitated to the shoreline along with young and old foreigners and locals who sat in a beachside park eating lunch and watching the boats in the water. There we ate our Fish and Chips from Erik’s, a food truck specializing in gluten free fish and chips, another win for New Zealand. We devoured our crisp fried potatoes and fresh Hoki in a rice flour batter. Heaven on earth! A woman watched as I enjoyed every crumb faster than the seagulls could steal one.
We wandered the shoreline streets and attempted a Disney style queue at a confectionary store, longing for some ice cream only to give up after a 30-minute wait. Queenstown is a city fit for a queen no doubt and a wealthy person’s playground, but not for us. We headed to our campground, Moke Lake, on the road to Glenorcky. After following a one-way dirt road for several miles through mountainous landscapes, we came to the lake and a green field with many campers. Obscure and not any map except for the DOC website, we were surprised at how many campers that were at this beautiful park. We hiked around the lake and then sat at our site and watched some big horned sheep on the hillside gazing at us as we gazed at them.
Te Anau - Gateway to Milford - Day 12
The next morning, we discovered why the crowd. Our pristine campground was soon to be a site for a road race to Glenorcky. From 5 am on, vehicles streamed in along the one-way dirt road at breakneck speeds. We rambled out at 7 am, our earliest start yet, just to make sure we could pass the road as we headed to Te Anau.
If you are planning to travel to Milford Sound, Te Anau is the gateway town before it. A lovely place, it boasts the longest lake on the South Island. And from the many of long lakes we’ve seen on our travels, that’s saying a lot.
We arrived too early to check in at our Te Anau Lakeside Campground, which offered motel rooms, ensuite, flatroom (what?), cabins and camping where we had booked another stay in a dormitory style room. We looked once more at Kate's Spirit Guide and headed to Rainbow Reach and the start of the Kepler Trail.
It began with a long bridge over a wide and musical river. Soon we headed up a steep climb into magical woods passed several suspension bridges, to the first hut that the Kiwis called a 1½ hour return (not likely). As I mentioned before we hiked each one of the great treks as far as we felt like that day averaging 6-10km return. We enjoyed our hikes without being weighed down with packs, heading to cramped lodges carrying all food and water for a multi-day journey. We passed silent serious Germans with hefty packs, young chatty Americans never paying attention to their surroundings and hogging the whole trail, and devoted kiwis, hobbit like beings, happy to be tramping in these gorgeous woods. I met one such fellow on my way back. Our Kiwi had on a bright blue shirt and clean and neat well-appointed pack. We stopped and greeted each other with a smile which was the custom here.
“Having a good tramp?” he asked.
“Yes, and you?”
“Oh, I am only going to meet my wife at the first hut. Only 1hour and 1 ⁄ 2 away. That’s long enough for me,” he chuckled. “Have a good tramp.” He waved goodbye and bounced down the trail effortlessly. I half expected to see the back of his pack laden with pots and pans and hanging strings of sausages like Samwise Gamgy.
Tim lingered behind stopping to take pictures of the enormous trees with giant fungi fanning out from their bark. I pushed ahead longingly dreaming of a hot shower, a motel
bed and a place to sit. I was finally ready to admit that I was tired. I thought our first hut destination was 1 ½ hours on the trail only to make it to the second suspension bridge in that time and still a good distance from the hut. We decided it was time to head back.
I sped ahead as Tim lumbered along talking with everyone with a variety of greetings. Sometimes he’d shout ‘Good Day’ in a bad Aussie accent, sometimes ‘Hellooo’ like an old English woman and sometimes ‘Hi’ like the cheeky American that he is. You never know what would trumpet out of his mouth. After waiting for a full 15 minutes sitting in the trunk
of a moss-covered tree like a hobbit, I asked a couple if they saw him. “You mean the man with the long lens? Yeah he’s back there. “As long as he’s not lying down,” I said
I took another rest at the bottom of a particularly steep trail waiting for Tim to catch up. An older couple, seniors like us, were descending slowly. When they reached the bottom of the hill, I made a Tim-like verbal blunder.
“It’s a long drop,” I said with a straight face, remembering only after that the Kiwi phase ‘long drop” referred to a non-flush port-a-potty. The woman looked at me strangely. There was no way to take it back. I smiled and passed them. Later when Tim and I joined up, we laughed hysterically.
Then we made it home to a sparkling clean shower and a spacious clean room. I flopped down on our bed and was ready for sleep. Tim on the other hand was ready for happy hour and an exploration of Te Anau town.
We headed along a lovely lake path, passing sailboats, seaplanes and ducks of all varieties. The wind blew off the lake as we passed a bike race that was finishing up and headed into a crowded town. Due to the race the town was overflowing with tourists of all nationalities. The shopkeepers looked horrified and soon found they were overwhelmed. We were lucky to find a table at the Trattoria and ordered a gluten free pizza and a warm spinach salad topped off with a bottle of a New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. The café atmosphere filled with foreign languages felt a bit like being in Europe. The service was a little off but we counted ourselves lucky that we actually manifested food and a seat. Then back to our motel room, snoring before our heads hit the pillows.
Milford Bound - Day 13
A stormy day rolled in just in time for our trip to Milford Sound. The drive in, another 4-hour trip, was spectacular the closer we got to the Sound. There was a moss-covered cedar and beech tree forest with giant fungi clinging 20 ft above our heads. They looked like Tree Beard and we felt like hobbits wanting to shimmy up the bark and cook up the mushrooms for dinner. At our second stop at a one lane bridge, we saw an amazing waterfall cascade into a crystal-clear pool. Torrents of blue gray water fall over giant glistering black rocks. It was even complete with a skinny Gollum like character who had rambled down to fill his plastic water jug from the sacred pool!
Then came the single lane tunnel. The Homer Tunnel was completed in 1953 and opened up Milford Sound to Te Anau and Queenstown. The straight tunnel was originally a single-lane gravel-surfaced road that until it was sealed, it was the longest gravel-surfaced tunnel in the world. The tunnel walls remain unlined granite. The east portal end is at 945m/3100 ft elevation; the tunnel runs 1270m/4166ft at approximately a 1:10 gradient down to the western portal. We didn’t wait for long before entering the one-way direction toward Milford. Once out of the tunnel we traveled down mountainous winding roads to sea level again and into native rainforest.
Milford Sound Lodge or MSL
We arrived in the breathtaking place, the beginning of the Sound. In Fiordland, glacier carved mountains climb as high as the eye can see, shrouded in constantly moving mist and rain. Not surprising, Fiordland is the wettest place in New Zealand. We pulled into our rainforest campsite, Milford Sound Lodge (MSL), the sole accommodation in the park. With the rain gently falling, it was so peaceful that we promptly parked and took a deep nap.
At a light break in the rain, the outdoors called us. Layered in rain gear and covered in bug repellent, we walked along a bright green river and watched as the skies opened up. Waterfalls appeared everywhere. As the mist lifted, the color pallet changed, the trees became visible and were a bright green, the river jade and the waterfalls an icy white. The tall mountainsides kept revealing themselves like a shy geisha behind a fan. We walked back along the river, the rain soaking our legs, so grateful to witness such beauty. At the lodge, a beautiful alpine structure, we were welcomed in. We headed to the wine bar and sat in front of big picture windows. I checked in again at the front desk hoping for another night of camping. I had tried for two months to extend our stay without success.
“Any cancellations,” I asked.
“You have a small van, right?”
“Yes,” my heart beat a little faster.
“Can you do unpowered?”
“We’ll take it!” I said with my usual American enthusiasm. It seems our magical trip was to continue. Another night to enjoy this wonder and tomorrow a boat ride in the Sound. But first a quiet evening and dinner at the Milford Sound Lodge Restaurant.
For and appetizer, Duck Duo, Duck Confit and Duck Pate with boysenberry jam and gluten free toast points. Then rare roasted lamb chops with local herbs and a brown sauce on a bed of duxelles mushrooms, topped with freeze dried mushroom chips and a side of orange squash puree. Sorry Sheepies-you were so delicious.
Looking out at the rain drenched cliffs, we ended Week 2 with glass of Pinot for Tim and for me, a perfect pot of English Breakfast tea. Tomorrow a boat ride in the Sound.
Perfection!
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