Winter Is Coming!

Farewell Spit Map

Baby Fur Seal

Wuthering Heights in New Zealand

Bell Bird

Landslide!

Landslide Damage

Fall Colors

Half a Bull

Westport Ocean View

Seals at Play

Pancake Rocks

Franz Josef Glacier

Waterfalls and More Waterfalls

Lake Matheson

Fox Glacier

Fox Glacier Valley

Hard Rock Texting

Thunder Falls

Blue Pools

Gandalf Country

Gandalf Country 2

Gandalf Country 3

Just for Jan

Breast Cancer Memorial

We’ve done a lot of traveling in the last five days, but we’ve finally settled in for a rest day in Queenstown, where we are spending four nights. So, let’s reminisce.

We spent our last day in Takaka driving to the Farewell Spit, which is at the most northern end of the South Island. Strangely enough, if you look at this part of the island on a map, it looks like the body and, most prominently, the beak of a kiwi. Herman took off for a short hike along the bluff above the coastline while I drove to an outlook point and marveled at the waves crashing against the rocks, where a couple of seals were trying to sun themselves. There were just a few people hiking around, so for a moment, I felt like Catherine looking out over a bluff in “Wuthering Heights.” The sheep farm that surrounded the area only added to the effect.

Oh, and I spent some of that time scratching. New Zealand has one pest, sandflies, and they’re most prevalent on the South Island. For sure, they like me! Herman only has one bite so far. The only solution is DEET insect repellant and long sleeves. We thought we’d lose them as we traveled toward colder climates, but they only seem worse! Argh! I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I almost prefer mosquitoes. At least you can hear them coming. You don’t see these little buggers until they’re biting you.

Upon leaving Takaka the next day, we stopped at one more scenic lookout before we headed back down the mountains for our trip to Westport. The short walk to the lookout (apparently New Zealand loves to force you out of your car) led along a path populated with a few bell birds. Their call is one of the most beautiful sounds I have ever heard. On the way to the top, we had a rather chatty fellow fall in step with us, so I was frustrated that we couldn’t hear the birds. We waited until he left to make our return stroll to the car and were rewarded with the birds’ delightful calls. Herman even managed to get a picture of one.

In my last blog, I mentioned that we had traveled to Takaka by convoy, since road usage was limited due to the reconstruction after a cyclone passed through recently. On the day we left, the road was finally fully opened, and we had the chance to see the depth of the destruction. Landslide after landslide met our eyes, not only on top of the windy roads but many miles down in the valleys as well. It’s a true wonder that no one was killed or injured!

The drive to Westport was long and, for the most part, unremarkable, aside from the red and yellow leaves that were just beginning to take over the green trees. By the time we got to Westport, we only had enough energy to eat dinner before we called it a day.

The next morning was sunny and promising. Well, so we thought. We walked up to a viewpoint at a lighthouse in Westport. Ocean, crashing waves, yada, yada. Next was a seal colony, where Herman got some great shots and video of seals swimming around in a pool created by the rocky outcrop.

As we were leaving, I looked at the sky and noticed an ominous sign; dark clouds, and they were building quickly. I had a sudden vision of that end scene in “Terminator” where you see dark clouds building over a desert landscape. We proceeded to drive along the coast toward the pancake rocks/blowholes. At that point, it was just sprinkling, so I decided to join Herman on the path. We saw these pancake rocks 20 years ago, but they’re still remarkable. Apparently, there are several theories as to how they formed into such an odd shape, but no one knows for sure.

We should have waited another hour to see the blowholes, as they weren’t very active while we were viewing them. However, less than a half-hour later, those Mount Doom-like clouds let loose their weight of rain and wind. Herman bravely fought through it to get some photos along the rest of the route to Hokitika, but even he finally, grim-faced, put away the camera and concentrated on steering us toward the hotel. When we arrived, we managed to get into our room before the deluge overtook our location. During the night, it rained so hard, I felt sure we would be floating in the ocean, which was just on the other side of a berm, by morning.

The next day we headed to the Herman gold standard of views: the Franz Josef Glacier. It was already turning cooler as we left Hokitika, so by the time we reached the community near the glacier, it was downright cold! We had hoped to check in at our hotel before Herman went on the hike, but alas, the room wasn’t ready. At that point, the weather was dry and I suggested that Herman should go ahead and take his hike before lunch, but he was hungry (as was I).

I guess you know what came next. We drove to the parking lot for the glacier trail and at just that moment, a cold, gale wind roared across the landscape, followed by spits of rain. I was never going to make this walk, so I sat in the car with my Kindle while Herman bravely set off on the trail. I could see the base of the glacier through the windshield just fine, thank you very much!

It was rather amusing to watch people as they exited their cars, lips set in grim determination, adding more pieces of clothing to their attire as they prepared to set off on their expeditions. One guy wore a woolen hat, a scarf around his lower face and neck, and a couple of thick layers around his upper body. Only one problem I could see; he was wearing shorts!

My amusement quickly turned to slight alarm as the wind continued to strengthen. Our little car rocked back and forth, and I had visions of it turning over. I also envisioned Herman being blown off the trail, so I was relieved when he emerged, cold but whole. He said there were waterfalls everywhere you looked along the trail, partly because of the rain and partly runoff from the glacier. We drove back to the hotel, bemused by the people we saw still making their way through the wind toward the glacier parking lot. We heard later that the road we had driven down that morning was now closed because of the weather.

Tuesday, we drove to Lake Matheson (known for its mirror like surface) and Fox Glacier. Even though this area was only about 16 miles from Franz Josef, the weather had greatly improved, though it was cold and there was snow on the tips of the mountains. Herman and I agreed that Fox Glacier presents a more impressive impact, as you can see a wider expanse of the rocky valley floor created by the ice when it first carved out the area. We saw a lot of large tractors removing boulders in the wash below the glacier, perhaps hoping to limit the landslides that appear to be a common occurrence.

Yesterday (Wednesday, here), we made the long drive to Queenstown. I had a note that the hotel in Queenstown said we needed to check in by 5:30 p.m. No problem, we thought. And then we saw the scenery. Oh! My! God! A postcard photo op around every turn, and I’m not exaggerating. Vistas of snow-tipped mountains rising from iridescent blue lakes and grassland, dotted with trees in autumn colors of red, orange, gold and yellow. You could imagine Gandalf from “Lord of the Rings” galloping along the landscape. I don’t think we drove more than a mile at any point during the journey without stopping. By the way, I hope my friend and loyal reader, Jan Carson, will take note of the photos (both on this blog and on Herman’s photo site) of the red trees, as we sought them out just for her. After our arrival in Queenstown, just 15 minutes shy of the deadline, we walked to a restaurant for dinner (of course everything is on a hill, so I should say we rolled down to dinner), after which we decided to buy a few groceries so we wouldn’t have to rush out the door for breakfast while we’re here. Well, you would have thought that Armageddon was on its way or that someone had just announced a 50% off sale. The place was packed with people jostling each other for whatever food items they were trying to find. Even the checkout was swamped. Herman had forgotten the English muffins, so he went back to get some while I waited with the stuff we’d already purchased. In that little time, the store grew still, with nary a shopper in sight. Perhaps a black hole or a time warp swallowed them up. Who knows?

So, you are all up to date. I’m signing off now to do…nothing. Herman is off hiking somewhere, of course.