23 Days in New Zealand in a Camper Van with Epic Views - Week 3

The Milford Sound Boat Ride - Day 15

We slept to the gentle sounds of rain and the Jurassic call of the wekas, a forlorn and haunting sound that echoed in the night air.  It rained steadily through the night with no sign of clearing. The fiord walls were shrouded in an opaque cotton candy mist.  We were assured that this was the norm. With over 200 rain days a year, Milford is the wettest place in New Zealand.  Still, Tim wished for sunshine and by the time we ate our breakfast, his wish came true. The sun broke through and changed the entire landscape from silvery gray to bright blues and greens.

Milford Sounds is hard to put in words... but here goes.

We boarded a Southern Exposure boat called The Silvia. She was a medium sized double decker cruise boat which offered a 2.5 hour cruise with a visit to the Underwater Observatory and lunch on board. They even had a GF option. Tim was so excited to pick the perfect photo spot, we were the first in line.

By the time we boarded, the rain had come to a full stop. Clouds gave way to intermittent sunshine. Because of yesterday’s peaceful rain, we had the luxury of abundant waterfalls cascading from the sharp cliffs every 100 feet. The majestic mountains loomed giant in the turquoise water. Seals basked along the rocky shoreline sunning themselves with reckless abandon. Get it while you can girls.

The Sound is a mixture of river water and sea. Rainwater adds a top layer along with the many waterfalls creating a unique ecosystem. Black coral, Horse Mussels, a large variety of fish, sea cucumbers, urchins, octopi, seals and even dolphins thrive here. Included with our trip was a stop at New Milford Discovery Centre & Milford Deep Underwater Observatory. An underwater platform allowed us to see many of the uniques inhabitants up close, in their natural environment. 

Lots of early explorers missed the small, seemingly blocked opening to the Sound protecting it from the likes of Captain Cook others who would have left their unholy mark. And as recent in the 1990’s, the New Zealand government gave the Sound and the job of

overseeing to its protections back to the Maori people. To keep this sacred area safe, a counsel of Maori elders was created to oversee and approve all development, land sales and uses. As a result, there is only one café and information center, a small plane airport, the Milford Sound Lodge and campground and the boat launch center.

The lore of the land is that the god, Tu-te-raki-whanoa, came here with a spade and dug out the Sound by hand. Another legend is that the goddess Hinenui-te-Po thought that the land was so enchanting and would attract too many people that she conjured up the sandflies to chase them away. An interesting form of crowd control because there are quite a few.  And as usual, New Zealand and its Maori people, with controlled entry and limited building, have organized it perfectly to protect this place and still share it with the world.

During our 2.5 hour boat ride, we passed so many waterfalls I lost count. Sharp green mountains with steep sides with granite archways cling to the cliffs. They are perked so precariously that they often eroded and fall into the sea. On the boat deck, we stood in awe.  Milford and its ever-changing landscape, is as pristine as any place on earth!

Boat Ride Options in Milford Sound

The Misty Routeburn Track - Day 16

We spent another beautiful night at the MSL. Rain fell gently throughout the night. Waterfalls cascaded from every rocky crevice. After our breakfast of rooibos tea and gf toast, we headed through the tunnel to an area called The Divide and the start of the Routeburn Track. Another stop on Kate’s Spirit Guide. We stopped and decided to check another hike off our list.

At the start of the trail, a light rain began to fall. A cloudy mist clung to the ground wrapping the moss laden beech trees and ferns in a cottony white. We were mesmerized once again by the magic of these woods. We started on the trail to Key Summit Overlook,

according to the sign was an 8km return. Fooled by the gentle meandering incline at the start of the trail, we chatted happily taking our time. For the first ½ km we wandered through a thick forest of beech trees with serpentine limbs heavily draped in line green moss. The dense clouds hugged each corner and then as on the other tracks, we began to climb. Straight up, up, up, we go.

To be fair, the signs here are a bit maddening. They often have two adjacent signs at the beginning of a track that are contradict each other. For example, at the Routeburn start, one sign said Key Summit 3-4km, 1-1/2 hours but does not indicate if that is one way or return. A sign right next to it said, Key Summit 3-hour return but it turned out to be much more. We found that we needed to add 2-4 km and a 1-2 hour to the distance and times marked on the trailheads.

“Oh, it’s only 1 ½ hours return,” a kiwi would say. (3 hours later)

“About a km or 2, (4 km later.) It really didn’t matter since we were set on doing as many day

hikes on as many tracks as we could in the South Island going at our own pace. When we grew tired, we’d simply turn around and head back. 

Hiking higher and higher we went, still not reaching the top of the cloudy forest. When we did see a sign after hiking 4 km straight up, the sign read 1hr to Key Summit. See what I mean. We settle at the junction for some trail snacks and rest. Then down we went, harder on the knees but much easier on the heart, passing waterfalls and one lane foot bridges.  The clouds began to lift and the lime green moss grew florescent. The birds sang across gullies to each other gracing us with their song.

Cromwell and Otago Wine Country - Day 17

Since we skimmed passed the Marlborough wine area, we decided to head to Cromwell and the Otago Wine country. The long drive back from Milford was uninspiring as was last night’s “holiday park,” with its sketchy welcome registration station (devoid of people) threatening those who did not pay the correct amount with a rate chart that was as confusing as hell. It had a "private bath", a free-standing water closet, with a sign that read ‘careful to turn the lock just right or you’ll be locked in. If locked in call----." But wait. How the heck can you call with no service. It was not your usual New Zealand holiday park.

After that short night, we left at daybreak and headed to Cromwell, a town in the wine region of central Otago. We booked a fancy apartment at in the center of town, mostly because it was the only room left in town. Being a fruit growing area, the town center boasted a giant fruit sculpture, a shopping area, surrounded by lots of vineyards. But we had a room and tasting rooms nearby. Good thing because it was raining like heck and we were ready to be wine drinking tourist. After several wine tastings, a lovely dinner and a beautiful two-bedroom place all to ourselves, we felt like tourists again.

 On the Road to Lake Tekapo - Day 18

Climbing out of the Otago valley, we headed to Lake Tepako (Tea KA po). But first we come to Twizel, a place Tim and I have talked about since we met twister Kyle in Totaranui which seemed like a lifetime ago. “I spent a whole winter in Twizel on Lake Ohau.” The land was flat and the cattle and sheep seemed to be the only occupants of these green pastures and brown hills so we passed on by.

The rain followed us with occasional sunlight peeking through the clouds creating a fleeting rainbow that Tim was determined to catch with stops along the way. We made it to our holiday camp on Lake Tekapo where the sun shone brightly. Lake Tekapo is an expansive aqua blue lake nestled in the Godley Peaks and surrounded by pine forests. Mt. John, Mt Hay, Mt Maude and Mt McGregor complete the semi-circle.

Our campgrounds, along the lake’s edge, was in a beautiful holiday park lined with trees that look familiar like weeping willows and birch trees that prefer to grown at these higher elevations and cooler temps. Ducks, rabbits, and little brown hens scavenged freely from site to site. One duck came so close I could have pet her. 

We headed to the center of the area and the town of Lake Tekapo located at the water’s edge. Walking paths from every direction land in the town center that consists of a small breakfast café, a well-supplied grocery store and the Dark Skies Observatory that has two shows daily: the Maori story of the skies and one that is pure astronomy. Lake Tekapo is one of the darkest places on the planet and the nearby University of Canterbury Mount John Observatory offers night programs at their astronomical observatory on top of Mt John, overlooking the lake.

There was a café that was run by a couple from South America. We ordered flat whites and sat at a table that overlooked the lake. The rain shrouded the nearby mountains in mist. Fall was in the air and we finally acquiesced that it was time to slow down and rest, rest along with the season.

A Day of Rest - Tekapo Hot Springs- Day 19

After a dream filled night where turtles, 14 or so, lifted me up to the surface of the sea, I felt refreshed. Before us the glacier fed lake ruffled gently. Seagulls and ducks floated on its surface as a cold wind blew in from the north. The weeping willows caught the breeze and spread their limbs like long hair. Fall had arrived in these mountains. We could feel it in cells of our bodies. It has been so much fun to witness late fall and early winter in Hawaii, mid-summer and early fall in New Zealand in a 3-month span. And when we return to our Colorado home is will be the start of spring.

 We walked to town center again today along the lakeside path and admired this well-designed community. All the shops were in one center.  Walkways took you everywhere but still keep you from the water’s edge. Pine trees, poplars and more weeping willows lined the pathways and the hills rising from it. The houses dotted the hillside above the center.

We walked to the Church of the Good Shepard. Built in 1935, it's a simple stone chapel with an altar adorned with vases of Queen Anne’s lace. Then off to a trip to the Tekapo Hot Springs

filled with heated glacier water where at night you can rent a floating lounge chair to absorb the massive starry night.

It was a day to relax! There had been so little time for that with our constant moving, camping in a different place each night, trying to see all the wonders of this great South

Island and still barely skimming the surface. So today we stopped and took a day of rest to restore our heart and soul not to mention our bodies. It was a much-needed rest indeed.

East Coast Bound - Day 20

We left our lovely spot at the Lake’s Edge Campground, a place where I felt much healing was done, after 8 glorious hours of deep sleep. I woke up only once and took my nightly pilgrimage to the restroom. I was spellbound by the sky. Tekapo is one of the darkest places on the planet and the sky was so thick with stars it was impossible to see where one galaxy ended and another began. Thick white swatches of stars and planets painted the sky in broad strokes. Tim joined me with his camera in hand and took a time lapsed photos of the southern cross.  I remained transfixed and looking up and mapping the stars in my soul.

Then on the road again, our first stop was Fairlie. A place, like its name, had charm coming out of its pores. Settle by Europeans in the 1800, its current population is under 1000 with a majority of the population identifying as European with some Maori and Asians mixed in. There is even the Fairlie Castle that is currently privately owned. It fit right in with the charming streets.

We stopped at a French bakery and settled in a long line. A nappy hatted old Frenchman played the accordion to the line of waiting customers. The extremely efficient staff were known for their award-winning pies; steak and cheese, pork belly and apple sauce, chicken and cream. Tim ordered the steak pie and even though they had run out of gluten free pie version, I didn’t feel deprived. Instead, I ordered a bacon and egg frittata, two flat whites, a raspberry slice and an apple financier for tomorrow morning’s breakfast. Charming shops hug every corner. Art photography lined the streets. A large park and playground made up the town center where grandparents gathered with coffees in hand, to watch their grandkids play.  Another completely different looking New Zealand town, with a very European flair like a French countryside. 

Then up we went over Burkes Pass into the country of rolling hills. Green and lush pastures populated with herds of Chamois, a goat-antelope native to Europe and introduced by the settlers, roamed the hillside. Cows and dark brown sheep completed the picture of the French countryside. Snow-chapped Southern Alps glistened in the distance.

Today, we were heading to the Banks Peninsula and a town called Akakoa. Just south of Christchurch, Akakoa is known for a beach on the eastern shore of the harbor, where rare Hector’s dolphins swim. Settled by the French and British, it again had a unique European style, with stone houses complete with draping flower gardens and rod iron gates, and a gothic stone church in the town center.  French style restaurants lined the winding streets. We were looking for a restful spot to spend our final days, a place with some style and ease. Little did we know what lay ahead.

If you are looking at the map, Banks Peninsula is a land mass with so many bays and inlets, it looks like a spiky piece of coral.  We choose a campground nearby the Akakoa, or so we thought, that was highly recommended by a guide book, called Okains Bay.

Five hours later we arrived in a sleepy hamlet after climbing up and over two extinct volcanoes that formed the backbone of the peninsula. Now that wasn’t obvious from the map. Who would have thought that there was more than one place like the Takaka Hill? The road to Okains Bay was a winding narrow strip of asphalt that traveled up and down hills with steep cliffs, and pitches and dips throughout with no guardrails to speak of. We passed a small town called Hilltop which consisted of a French colonial tavern clinging to the hillside and a few scattered sheep farms. By then we could have used a drink. Cognac please and get me off this crazy road! But we still had a ways to go and the road demanded sharp attention. Finally, our last pitch forward took us to the remote inlet and our sleepy grassy ‘pick a place anywhere you’d like’ campground. We parked our van, grabbed our last bottle of Hawke’s Bay Chardonnay and headed to the tranquil, grey sand beach of Okains Bay. There were lots of families camping here, and tribes of kayakers. As tranquil it was, it was nowhere near the town of Akakoa nor civilization.

More on The Curious Kiwi

From our first conversation with Hen Henderson to the curious fisherman we met yesterday, we have thoroughly enjoyed our conversations with the Kiwis. Always so curious, they are like children questioning us with unabashed boldness.

“Where are you from?” Sometimes we said Hawaii, sometimes Colorado, getting a warm response from either place. New Zealand with very little connection to the internet is cut off from the caustic world of political unrest. The Kiwis in turn viewed us with generous curiosity, simply wanting to know more, no matter where we called home. They’d smile, and nod and then proceed to tell us their life story without hesitation. Like Hen Henderson, the vet from Nelson, Kyle the twister and beautiful yoga Kate, who gave us a Spirit Map that has proven over and over to find the spirit of this incredible country.

On our remote trip to Okains Bay, we stopped at an old gas station where the petrol pump had to be turned on with a key, in a charming town called Little River. We met a local fisherman who pumped gas beside us and who without reservation yelled the usual greeting, “Where you from?’ 

“Colorado,” we said.

“I live 60 km from here. I am a fisherman,” he said with an accent so heavy that poor Tim with his plugged hearing aids just smiled and looked bewildered. “I fish here, three days out, seven days fishing and three days back.

“What kind of fish do you catch?” I asked, always interested in potential dinner.

“Tamure (snapper), grouper, blue, hoki,” and a slew of other names I didn’t quite catch. “But it’s changing,” he said. “The ocean at the Cooks Bay is rough, 30 knots but not here, not unless there is a storm. Now it is the same here, 30 knots,” he nods sadly. “The sea is changing.”

We both shook our heads as a shadow of global warming passed between us. Like the ancient mariner from Coleridge’s poem, he cries don’t shoot the albatross, only to find out that it was already dead. I am so grateful to see this world while I still can. Traveling allows us to do just that.

Okains Bay - Day 20 Continued

 After a quiet night in the strange campground, we decided to make the trip up and over the mountainous backbone to be closer to Akakoa and civilization. On our way out, we drove past a few closed up fishing camps and the General Store with its offerings of a fish fry dinner, parts of every kind from 4-7pm. Just like the white bait burgers we skirted by. Before leaving the area however, we decided to stop at the Maori Museum. It was proclaimed by the guide books as a must see. 

 The museum, a little village really, was a collection of English and French settlers’ homes jammed with so many artifacts including an original out house building. Black and white photographs of well-dressed Europeans in starched clothing filled the place with a haunting presence. There was one cabin of a white pioneer woman which had an especially chilling tale. The plaque said that the woman died standing up and is still reported to occupy the space.

In the center were three traditional Maori houses including a bright intricately carved Whataska house, which was chock full of everything you could imagine. Intricately crafted earrings and delicate grass weavings laid aside a large selection of rock axes, clubs and spears used in war. There were photographs of fully tattooed men and women beautifully dressed in indigenous clothing. A weird haunting flute music played in the background as Tim and I, the sole visitors of the museum, wandered from case to case amazed at the depth of the collection. It could have filled a floor of the Smithsonian. After a half hour, we were quite simply overwhelmed. The eerie exhibit was only topped by the water spigot at the exit with a sign that read, ‘wash your hands as you leave the building. Don’t drink the water, just wash.”  What was that about? No initiation before entering the building but symbolically washing away evil spirits when you leave?

 I headed to the restroom, before hitting the road, only to find a sign above the toilet that read, Spend a night at the museum at our rental cabin.

Spend a night at the museum of haunted memories? No thank you!

Akakoa - Day 21

Off we went again thinking it would be a 20-minute trip to the town of Akakoa (translation Long Island) only to find ourselves fully encased in an impenetrable fog. We climbed blindly up the mountain again before descending to the sea. The fog cleared as we rode into the French hamlet and parked our van on the main street eager to explore ie: eat French food.

Akakoa with its stone houses built on steep hillsides looked a bit like the French Riviera or at least a model of a European seaside town. We headed to a popular fish and chips place and ate a hearty lunch of fresh fried hoki. Then off to traditional afternoon flat whites and pastries at a little French café. Happy and full, we felt like tourists again. We finished the day with a drink at the Harbar, which sat on the harbor and although it had several hundred bottles behind the bar and a list of cocktails a mile long, we were only offered a few choices. I had a margarita and Tim a local gin martini for a total of $44 NZ. Quite pricey but worth it. The bartender was so slow and meticulous with our drinks that the show was worth the price of admission.

The rain came again as we set up at the New Holiday Campground perched about the town with a spectacular view of the waters below. Now this is what we were looking for on our second to last day in New Zealand.

Christchurch - Day 22

We were supposed to start our grand tour of New Zealand at the Hotel Give in Christchurch but due to the floods in Auckland, we cut short our opening stay and hit the road.  We ended our stay at the hotel instead.

Leaving the peninsula after a night filled with soft rain, we rose to meet our final day in New Zealand. We chugged along the ocean front road in our little Weka van and stopped for a flat white at Little River, a town that we had passed two days ago. This clean and well-organized town had a non-assuming café with a sign that read, “Rustic Food, Takeaway.”

But inside they offered so much more. There were pastry cases filled with French delights, savory pies, (some gluten-free), and a steamy coffee bar. Next to the café was an amazing gallery of local books, metal art, paintings and sculptures. A garden filled with life size sculptures resided in an adjacent rain drenched courtyard. Again, New Zealand surprised us in the most pleasant way. Each town was different from the next, telling a different story.

Then traveling on a familiar road, made it a quick trip to Christchurch and Hotel Give. We arrived around noon at our lovely boutique hotel only to be told it was a firm three o’clock check in. The hotel literally bordered The Botanical Garden, so we strolled across the street to the opening gate. I have to say again, New Zealand offers so much to its citizens and the public at large. This 8-hectare park housed some of the most beautiful natural environments right in the city center. Tropical eucalyptus and hapu fern gardens, indigenous forest walks, rose and dahlia gardens were filled with the music of cicadas, birds and ducks of all varieties. Tim followed the New Zealand monarch and fat black bumblebees with his long lens capturing the yellow pollen stuck to their furry legs. We spent three hours effortlessly among this beautiful place. And all for free, even the parking.

At our perfect Deluxe Queen Room Ensuite, we watched from our balcony as sunlight reflected off the long grey windows of the Abbey-like stone building next door. The gothic turrets and peaked slate tiled roofs we backlit as they reached for the sky.

We walked the pristine city center and enjoyed one more night. In a hall filled with markets, we found a formaggiera and bought too much creamy cheese and prosciutto and salami for our trip home. So much cheese. I hoped I’d escape the food guards at customs again.

Heading Home- Hawaii Bound - Day 23

Sitting at the table in the Auckland International Airport among crowds of tourist, I feel the magic wane just a little. Or maybe it awaits us back in Hawaii, Colorado or our next travel adventure. It’s a story untold, that’s for sure. As I look around at the ever-changing crowds and landscapes, I’m reminded once again of life’s impermanence and its lessons. Change is the only constant. What better way to ride the wave than travel.