Christchurch: Bringing It All Back Home
Since I leave tomorrow for New York, its probably time (OK, way late) to start recapping the highlights of the last two weeks.
November 10
Two weeks ago today, our little group left Christchurch for NZ's West Coast, which is aptly abbreviated to Wet Coat given the rainfall, which is prodigious. Happily, at our first stop, we enjoyed lunch amidst a hillside of large, Flintstone-like rocks smoothed by glaciers over the years and deposited on a large hillside. The group on this tour is small: myself and two couples, one retired and living near San Jose, California and the other closer to my age, a Navy Chaplain and his wife who are being reassigned to Groton, CT next week. Our guides are Lofty, a tall outsdoorsman who regaled us with impressive and frightening tales of his many adventures on cliffsides, mountain bikes, rafts, rugby pitches and race cars, and Mel, a laid-back young woman who can hike and cook with the best of them.
The lunch stop was at Arthur's Pass, which divides the East Coast of the South Island from the West. We didn't know what to expect from the days to come but the unusual formations, cool breezes and uncertain weather were positive harbingers of the next few days.
So we continued on, reaching the West Coast in our bus ("Burt"), which easily accommodated our small group, providing plenty of room to stretch out. We reached the West Coast - facing the Tasman Sea -- at Greymouth and turned north to our home for the next two days at Punakaiki, a small beach town with impressive beaches abutting a rainforest. Here was the view from our small lodge.
Having spent some time on another beach about 1200 miles north, it was an adjustment to look upon a beautiful, seemingly tropical beach with inviting waves and then realize that the temperature is in the mid-50's with a stiff wind and water temperatures also in the 50's.
After a delicious dinner, one of many featuring lamb, we headed off to a nearby park with amazing rock formations created by continual pounding from the Tasman, creating the multilayered Pancake Rocks that the area is famous for.
We also took a nice hike through the rainforest leading down to the beach, the first real walk of many in the South Island; walking here is known as tramping, which seems appropriate for the smelly, disheveled state that a day of hiking leaves you in. We met one local resident who was nonplussed by our stomping through.
The New Zealand ecology is quite unique, containing many species found no where else. Birds were the predominant form of wildlife until the mid-19th Century. Before the English came, there were no land mammals whatsoever and, as a result, birds had no real natural predators. Many became essentially land bound, without functional wings. Perhaps the most renown is the the now-extinct moa, which was a gigantic bird over six feet tall with a passing resemblance to a brown Big Bird. The Maori hunted them for food and have now been extinct for hundreds of years but remain a celebrated aspect of the country's history and culture; statues of moas are everywhere. Another more successful survivor is the kiwi, a nocturnal non-flying bird that is the national symbol, found everywhere from its coins to t-shirts. And, of course, natives have adopted the bird's name as their own.
The next morning, we left Punakaiki and headed south, stopping in Ross, where an impressive, deserted beach of exceptional beauty waited with rocks worn by the tides and starfish nestled in small pools left by the low tide amid sprays of mussels.
Next came Hoktika, another coastal town where we enjoyed what is essentially the national dish, fish and chips. To our surprise, the fish -- as is apparently often the case -- was shark but it tasted like any other firm, slightly oily white fish. After lunch, off we went to spend a couple of hours wandering around the town, which was first settled during a gold rush in the 1860's but is now home to a large number of shops selling greenstone, a form of jade found only in New Zealand. Most of the greenstone is carved in forms with special Maori meanings and sold as necklaces, bracelets and earrings.
We spent the night in Okarito, a tiny seaside village adjacent to a large beach covered with beautiful smooth stones. Before dinner, I clambered down to the beach and there found two shivering small baby seals, seemingly abandoned by their parents and stranded when the tide went out. Our guide assured us that they would be reunited when the tide came back in but we were all a bit heartbroken to just leave them there. I'll add in photos when I get them from one of our group who came down to the beach with their camera.
Dawn brought clear skies and a view of Mt. Cook, at 12,500 feet the country's highest mountain. We raced up a nearby hill to better take advantage of the unusually clear view of this oft-obscured mountain but were a few minutes late as clouds moved in and covered the tops of the higher elevations, a pattern that would repeat for the next few days. We had plenty to look forward too, though, and you can see here our small band.
A bit of rain moved in thereafter as we moved on to Franz Joseph and its famed glacier, named by an Austrian explorer to honor his sovereign, the king of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Along the walk to the glacier's face, we encountered many waterfalls feed by the glacier and surrounding snowfields. This shot captures only a fraction of this large waterfall.
Even in the overcast weather, the glacier's intense blue color, the product of compressed ice, made it seem otherworldly.
More to come; stay tuned!