We bid the chickens farewell and
headed out of Franz Josef up the West Coast towards Hokitika. Our first stop was
to track down the Gorge, some 20 miles inland and an hour’s detour. Worth it
however, for a final glimpse of that alluring glacial blue. Pressed for time,
we couldn’t linger but stayed long enough snap a few photos and to witness some
Dutch/German boys taking their chances by leaping off the rocks into the water
below.
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| Hokitika Gorge |
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| Drinking up those views |
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| Hi-de-hi! |
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| With nature this stunning, who needs Photoshop! |
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| Crazy Germans! |
Returning to Hokitika we stopped by a deli for some hot chocolates and
took these together with our hastily packed picnic to the beachfront round the
corner. The wild West Coast is nothing like the gentle waters and sheltered
sands we’d encountered on Waiheke and in the Coromandel; exposed to the expanse
of the Tasman Sea, the winds are punishing and we were somewhat buffeted!
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| Chow time! |
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| Just look at that surf rolling in... |
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| A bracing picnic lunch! |
When we were once more fuelled, we returned to town to have a mooch around some
of the art and craft shops that Hokitika is known for. Jade is the speciality in
these parts and we duly purchased a necklace for Sarah as a memento of our trip
in one of the boutiques. The sales assistant who helped us actually knew sign
language and had just returned from a weekend away in Auckland with her deaf
friends - we had an interesting conversation about the differences in sign
language between the UK and NZ.
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| Hokitika town centre |
Before long, conscious that we
still had most of the (long) drive ahead to Christchurch, we were back on the
road. Our route took us down some more of those twisty roads we were just about
becoming accustomed to, and on through Arthurs Pass. On a tip off from Cesar we
stopped near Otira Viaduct to meet some more NZ natives – this time, the
alpine parrot, the Kea. Bizarrely, these comical creatures have developed quite
a taste for the rubber trims on cars and seek out places where tourists pull in
for pit stops and then attack their cars! Sure enough, when we pulled up we were
ambushed by some waiting Kea and soon had a fair few making their acquaintance
with the car, whilst we nervously watched on.
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| NZ road engineering at it's finest |
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| Otira Viaduct snaking its way through the landscape |
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| Hi there mate! |
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| Mmm, tasty rubber! |
Further down Arthur’s Pass we
came across a one lane bridge where a very wide lorry was slowly inching its
way across. There were a couple of cars backed up waiting on both sides, and as we waited we were
approached by a highways person who warned us there might be a delay and asked
us and the other people waiting to kindly move onto grass to afford the
approaching vehicle some room. They even had a box of sweets to placate us
with, which we found refreshingly civilised and thoughtful. If only traffic
jams were like this in the UK!
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| 'Waiting' area |
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| The mammoth lorry inching across |
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| Sure beats the view from the M25/M1/M6 |
It was getting on for early
evening by the time we emerged from the pass and approached the Canterbury
plains once more. At our hotel for the night, we were delighted to see a
Christmas tree in the reception foyer – believe it or not, this was practically
the first sign of Christmas we’d seen for the whole month, in stark contrast to
the UK where it seems that the festive season starts in September nowadays!
Checking in at the Copthorne Commodore was a bit different to our usual
process, as this time we needed to bring the entire contents of the boot in to
sort through and we’d obviously been spoilt by all the places we’d stayed at
before where you could park right outside as it felt the car was miles away, down
a maze of corridors and across the car park. Once we’d safely got the last of
the bags to our room we ventured down to the hotel restaurant for dinner, too
cream crackered to think about heading back out into Christchurch to find
somewhere new. The fare on offer however was surprisingly good and once sated we
returned upstairs to begin the difficult task of condensing all our belongings
back into our luggage for the journey home.
The next morning we drove back to the
rental depot, waved a sad goodbye to the Sunny and caught the shuttle to the
airport. This wasn’t straightforward as it sounds, seeing as we’d forgotten
that we’d said we would return the car with a full tank - so despite having
booked the Copthorne due to its proximity to the airport, we ended up miles
away, negotiating a busy Christchurch in search of a petrol station.
Fortunately we found one at last and made it to the depot where our rental
company took pity on us and speedily dealt with the formalities so that we
would make our flight.
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| Goodbye faithful friend! |
Standing in line for check in at
Christchurch airport felt a little surreal – were we really going home already?
We were both looking forward to catching up with friends and family, but
somewhat subdued to be leaving this wonderful country, so it was with a mixed
bag of emotions that we boarded the plane and waved goodbye to Aotearoa (Maori for New Zealand - roughly translated it means 'land of the long white cloud') – for
the time being, at least.
We had a brief stopover in
Singapore again on the way back, but this time, with just 5 hours to spare, we
didn’t bother leaving the airport. And we didn’t need to! – Singapore airport
is huge, with many shops, eateries, a cinema and even a helter skelter slide
amongst its attractions to amuse those in transit. We plumped for a visit to
the Butterfly Garden followed by a refreshing dip in the open air rooftop
swimming pool. It was a balmy night and the pool was a little oasis of
relaxation to sooth the nerves of jet-lagged passengers – highly recommended!
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| In the bar at the rooftop swimming pool, post dip! |
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| Enjoying a refreshing drink - jetlag, what jetlag? |
Another 13 hour flight and 4
films later, we were back on home turf at Heathrow. Now, I love the UK and when
the sun shines there’s few better places on Earth, but when you are on a coach
heading back to Oxford along the M25 during the morning rush hour on drizzly
November morning, it’s hard not to make unfavourable comparisons between the UK
and NZ! It was good to see our house once more though – and especially our bed!
There’s nothing like home comforts. I went straight to sleep and was out like a
light until that evening. Somehow, Paul managed to get up several times in the
interim, answer the phone etc. all without disturbing me!
So there you have it – the final
conclusion to our adventures around New Zealand. I was ruminating this morning
on the reason why my photos of New Zealand are not as awesome as I’d hoped they
would be (aside from the fact I am a rubbish photographer!) – and I came to the
conclusion that it’s impossible for a mere camera to capture the beauty of the
place. You have to live it to believe it. So, if you get the chance, do go -
it’s the kind of place that speaks to your soul and makes you want to rip up
the return tickets and let the Pacific swallow them up (except that would not
be very environmentally friendly of course). Trust me, I know from experience.
Needless to say - we will return,
one day.
Coming up (if I ever get round to it!) - tips, hints and just what makes NZ such a refreshing place to visit.
