Aspiring Ntl Park from Mt Roy

Wanaka, It’s Where I Want to Be

Full disclosure. I am writing this while sipping a Ristretto cappuccino from Rust coffee shop next door to my local public library on a cloudy, blustery day in Portland OR. So, while I’ll “be” in New Zealand as I write, I’ll have to imagine this cappuccino is that amazing flat white I had while watching locals at the Federal Diner (look for it down a tiny alley off a main street in downtown Wanaka).

Wanaka. While planning the trip I was unsure whether to stay in Wanaka, Queenstown, or both. Queenstown is all over every travel site, and the setting is spectacular. I mean look, this is the view just from the grocery store…

New World Queenstown

View from New World grocery parking lot in Queenstown

But in one of the better decisions of this trip, we decided to spend five nights in Wanaka, and visit Queenstown for the day on our way to Fjordland. Briefly, Wanaka is much smaller (at least for now) and more mellow, but still with a lot of restaurant and lodging choices. And spectacular scenery. Queenstown is more dramatic, but also more crowded and touristy. However, for the adrenaline junky this is one of the best spots on earth, so thrill seekers please don’t listen to me on this one (I’ll meet you in a later post with tales of an alpine helicopter ride).

Wanaka started off on a good note. After a rainy and somewhat disappointing trip over Haast Pass, we dropped down Highway 6 to the shores of Lake Wanaka, then across a blink-and-you-missed-it isthmus to Lake Hāwea. These lakes are huge. No matter how high we got in the region, I don’t think we ever saw either lake all in one view. Lake Wanaka is over 70 square miles, the fourth largest in New Zealand. Lake Hāwea is 54 square miles. Both were carved by glaciers. Surrounded by high, craggy mountains that we could actually see, not shrouded in clouds (at least not upon arrival). The setting is absolutely spectacular. The Colorado girl in me was in heaven.

We stayed at Apartments on Upton only a few blocks from a large park bordering the lake (where we stopped to watch cricket one day), with views to perhaps three different mountain ranges. The extra bonus was a sculpture in the yard of a man out of wood and iron that caught my eye on entry. Later that day looking into Wanaka artists and designers in our apartment I found reference to an amazing one, Martin Hill. And noticed “our” sculpture on his website. Art and natural beauty; a perfect combination.

Of all places we visited, the two I could live in for any length of time were Lagrasse in southwest France, and Wanaka. What was it about Wanaka? Primarily the astounding natural beauty of the region, but that goes for just about everywhere in New Zealand. The people were relaxed and very friendly, but again, that’s just the “norm” in New Zealand. A few differences of this region were retail in nature. First, there are too many fabulous biodynamic wineries to count. Just outside of Wanaka is Rippon Vineyards, one of the originals with a view to kill. Not to mention beautiful floral displays and quirky artwork and a Riesling even I would want to drink regularly. There’s also Quartz Reef a short drive away with a tasting room in Cromwell. They have eminently drinkable sparkling wine… wish I had some now!

There are many high-end boutiques around town with beautiful if expensive finds. With a very fat wallet I’d go back to Escape, especially for dresses by New Zealand designer Paula Ryan. The one store with local designs that I found was the recently opened Funkee Design. Cute local skirts and fabulous wool knits by Untouched World. The best though is the thrift stores. I am not that person who routinely finds treasures in thrift stores, unlike many of my friends who tend to unearth vintage Gucci handbags and other designer finds. Apparently Wanaka has a number of wealthy inhabitants who come seasonally for skiing and summer retreats (hence the high-end stores). They seem to leave behind those purchases… At the Salvation Army I found a very wide brimmed Eugenia Kim sun hat (which I desperately needed by the way, the sun is so strong here) for about seven US dollars. Typical retail, well over $400. Then at Wanaka Waste Busters where one could wander for hours, found a great white men’s cotton shirt, a top quality New Zealand merino wool sweater, and an Australian designer jacket for about eight US dollars, all together. After more than six weeks in two shirts and one sweater, this doubling of my wardrobe was divine.

Most compelling though was nostalgia. In all the best ways, and very few of the bad, Wanaka reminded me of Colorado in the 1970 and 1980s. Whereas Fort Collins (where I grew up) had the thrilling dining choice of Perkins on the north end of town or Perkins on the south end of town, Wanaka has numerous delicious and interesting restaurants and cafes. And a fun living room theater, Paradiso, with the best chocolate chip cookies at intermission (yes, I made us go see Mockingjay Part 2 here, it had just released). So plenty to do, see, and consume… unlike the Colorado of my youth.

Movies in Wanaka

Yes, we went to see the final Hunger Games installment, but it was rainy out…

The similarities? Wanaka is friendly. People smile at one another in the streets. It is low key and unpretentious. The stunning natural features are central to how, and why, many people live here. And there’s a difficult-to-explain energy in the ether that pretty much anything is possible here.

Unfortunately, Wanaka also shares with the Colorado of my youth a refusal by many locals, especially the land holders, to manage growth. Across from Mount Iron, an already crowded local hike, a large swath of land had been bulldozed for construction of up to 1000 homes and numerous commercial buildings. The concept of preserving open space in the face of rapid development is as slow to catch on here as it was in the Front Range of Colorado. Here’s a few images from our hike up Mt. Iron.

But back to the joys of the place. In a nutshell, here’s what we did:

We tried to hike to the Rob Roy Glacier. Sadly we left too late, bad weather was coming, and our dumpy little rental car could ford only about the first four or so of seven river crossings on the road to the trailhead. However, the views up and down the Matukituki Valley along the West Matukituki River were unbelievable and well worth the bumpy journey.

Our “consolation prize” that day was a hike up Rocky Mountain. Both near and far the scenery was amazing. We were nearly blown off the top (the Department of Conservation had actually closed some hikes nearby due to high winds), but in the end that just made it more exhilarating. Here’s a great review by a non-hiker of this route. I think Jeff may have had similar thoughts on this and other hikes during our stay in New Zealand come to think of it…

We visited numerous wineries and art galleries in the relocated “Old Cromwell Town” (though after France, buildings from the 1860s just didn’t seem that old).

We had drinks at the local wine store/bar, Pembroke Wine & Spirits, with Carly. Carly I know from Denver where we worked together in her father’s French bakery when she was in high school and I was, well, way past high school (by the way, this may be the best French bakery in the US; if you’re in Denver, go to Trompeau Bakery). Time with this smart and sarcastic young woman always lifts me up. She and her boyfriend were just at the end of a year working in New Zealand on youth visas. Something I really wish I had done, but I probably would have skipped the apple-picking gig they had. That sounded brutal (complete with collapsing ladders and vicious branches).

Highlight was hiking Roys Peak Track. The brutal part is that it was 10 miles round trip and an elevation gain of about 4000 feet. Having not exercised much, this was a slog for the two of us. Our chagrin at our fitness level was not helped by the numerous super fit locals who jogged past us (just like old times hiking in Boulder, CO). The track had just recently reopened after the spring lambing season, so we hiked with numerous adorable lambs and equally many wary mamas. Views from this hike were amazing. Here are way too many shots:

Here’s a video of Jeff hiking with the lambs (and the wind):

Sadly after five days we had to journey on. We drove through more gorgeous mountains, spent about two hours in Queenstown (with seemingly half of the time driving through construction and looking for parking), then drove south towards Te Anau and Fjordland. Somehow, the trip just kept getting better and better. That post (hopefully) soon.

Fox Glacier in the rain

Next Time, I’ll Sacrifice to the Weather Gods Pre-Departure

This voyage has been years in the wishing, and only about a month in the actual planning. We talked for at least five years about flying around the world, but there was always some reason we couldn’t/shouldn’t/wouldn’t go. Why that changed at last wishing is not where I’m going with this (at least right now). The main point is that I had little time to plan and research this trip. In that short time one of the destinations/activities that I knew I wanted to do was traveling the West Coast Highway, visiting the Franz Josef and Fox Glaciers in Westland Tai Poutini National Park, and driving over Haast Pass, west to east of course. Being a fervent mountain lover, a large part of the reason for this was to view the Southern Alps from the verdant vegetation and aqua glaciers found on their western flank. I somehow forgot to read the part about how all that vegetation got so verdant, and how the glaciers manage to arrest their retreat at all in the face of global warming. That would be the six to eight meters of rain that fall annually.

Which brings me to sacrifices. I’m a firm believer that some blood must be shed at the beginning of any important new venture. I don’t do it on purpose, but it always seems that something slips and I start to bleed. And rather than be upset, it reminds me that oh yes, this sacrifice must be made.

I now believe in a second kind of sacrifice. To the weather gods. As my sister pointed out, rallying against the weather gods is not a terribly productive activity. My takeaway? Pre-trip sacrifices are the way to go. I am not sure the protocol, but I will figure it out before our next voyage.

So here is what I saw from our hotel of the Southern Alps:

Franz Josef Hotel

Somewhere in those low, heavy clouds rise the majestic Southern Alps

And from our hikes:

Franz Josef Glacier hike

Looking (not very far) up the valley towards Franz Josef Glacier and, somewhere, the Southern Alps

Fox Glacier New Zealand

And behind Fox Glacier, sometimes stunning mountains, sometimes clouds

And from our drive (first attempt at posting video):

 

Yep, those would be dense clouds. To be honest, we did get this little peak, for which (any weather gods reading this) I am supremely grateful.

Fox Glacier and Southern Alps

Mountains peeking out behind Fox Glacier

It took us a while to rally in Franz Josef, but eventually we got out our heavy-duty rain ponchos (this was not a garbage bag rainstorm) and headed out on a hike to the glacier. It was frustrating to not see the backdrop of snow-covered mountains, but once we got used to the wind and rain, it was actually fun. Once again, we were plastered in smiles on this trip. And the waterfalls were unbelievable up and down the valley. I don’t think I’ll ever be as impressed with a Pacific Northwest waterfall again. Thanks to Jeff who snapped all these on his iPhone (the Fuji stayed back in the dry car).
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The next day we got a slightly drier window for our hike out to Fox Glacier. And here is where we caught a glimpse of the distant mountains. For some (more) spectacular pictures of this area, and other parts of New Zealand, check out a blog by Michael Evans, an Australian photographer. Stunning images, and I think he got more sunny days than we did.
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After Fox Glacier, we headed out on the pass. Windshield wipers were on full blast most of the drive (except of course while Jeff was filming above video). Pretty perhaps, but I want to go back some day after I’ve made the appropriate sacrifices.

sunset over hokitika beach

Cruising down the West Coast Highway

As I write this, it’s Saturday in the Western Hemisphere, which means it’s Sunday in New Zealand, which in houses around the world means it’s Pancake Day. So today, I bring you, Pancake Rocks (oh, and Hokitika).

Continuing our lack of synchronization with the good weather, we pulled out of Little Kaiteriteri on a full-sun, beautiful morning and headed southwest to the West Coast Highway, into more astounding beauty, and at our day’s destination, cool, cloudy, rainy weather in the forecast.

Having been well trained on the curvy, narrow roads of France, we were more than up to the challenge of driving New Zealand’s “highways” even with the driving on the left thing (biggest problem honestly was turning on the windshield wipers when we wanted to turn and the turn signal when it rained…). That said, Google needs to send employees to New Zealand to drive the roads and learn why their point-to-point time calculations are so wildly optimistic (Google, I know you’re reading this, so just saying, I’d be a great hire for this task!). One reason I see is that there are 10,000 river crossings on any drive and they are all one-way and you are always going in the direction that has to yield. But honestly that just means you have more time to look at the stunningly beautiful river you’re about to cross, so it’s not a big concern.

So off we were, driving down the highway, enjoying what seemed a very wide road by our new Gallic standards, stopping and waiting our turn to cross many a river. We drove through central farm and ranch lands for a bit before emerging at the Tasman Sea pounding full blast into the western coast. We pulled over at a random shoulder, where a sign informed us we were at latitude 42° south. Further south than Portland is north.

Southern latitude beaches

Crow Bay, way down south at Latitude 42

Here is the raw beauty of the cove we found. Jeff basically had to tear me away from sifting through the rocks (exactly what you don’t need to gather when you’re trying to travel light and have already stocked up on facial products in glass jars).
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Next stop down the coast was the town of Punakaki and Pancake Rocks, found in Paparoa National Park, where we headed out on the easy, and stunning, Blowhole Walk. Wild rock formations made of limestone. The layering comes generally from pressure on alternating soft and hard marine layers, but it is apparently still a mystery as to how exactly they formed (or at least it was at the time they printed the trail-side signage). Here again the pictures tell the best story.
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And this panorama, hard to tell what is where, but gives a great sense of the scope (photo credit to Jeff).

Pancake Rocks panorama

Hard to tell front from back, but it feels a bit that way when you’re there too!

We visited at low tide, so not the prime viewing moment for the blowholes, but still a beautiful site (and fun time to use the rapid fire feature on my Fuji X-T10).

Punakaki Blowhole

Blowhole starts

Pancake rocks blowhole

Blowhole growing

Blowholes of punakaki

Blowhole growing

Blowhole cresting

Blowhole cresting (remember, low tide)

Blowhole dissapates

Dissapating

receding blowhole

Dissipating…

Mists of blowholes

And gone

Our stop for the night was the town of Hokitika. This is where The Luminaries, the book I mentioned back in the Perth post is set by the way. Recently finished the book and definitely recommend it. First thing that struck me about the town: the super-wide streets. Reminded me of where I grew up, Fort Collins. My mother rented rooms at one point to foreign exchange college students who first thought we must be very important as our street was so wide. That was before they got out and about and realized the whole town is that way. Expanding to fill the space perhaps?

Hokitika streets

Wide, wide streets of Hokitika

Hokitika (worth saying that out loud by the way, fun word to say over and over) is known for its artists and craftsmen, especially for work with “pounamu“. This highly varied green stone is found only on the South Island of New Zealand primarily in the southwest. Pounamu takes one of two mineral forms. Most common is Nephrite, a calcium magnesium silicate mineral. Bowenite is only found at the entrance to Milford Sound and is an iron magnesium silicate mineral. We met one person later in our travels with a pendant from that region; it was luminescent. Pounamu is of great importance to Maori (the article linked to above has some great detail about this). We saw numerous historical pieces in the museum in Wellington. Chiefs (and others?) would carry paddles made of this stone as a weapon and as a peace token. I would not want to be hit by one of those but would take one in a ceremony.

Sadly, in my perspective, many of the stores in Hokitika fall under the category of “schlock” with factory-made pieces made from stone that may have been both made in China and from stone originating in China (all the while exclaiming itself to be New Zealand “greenstone”, a usefully vague term). The same exact pendants, earrings, and warrior paddles over and over in a rather crass execution.

Hokitika was the one place we stayed at a hostel. It had great reviews and was very cozy with a coal-burning stove and a sweet Swiss woman I saw again later in our travels. A quick digression on that coal-burning stove. It was clearly not the only one in town and that is such a peculiar, strong smell that hugs and hangs around a town. If you wanted to feel you had stepped back in time into a western gold-rush town, it was perfect (read that book), but not something I would want to breathe in daily. And remember, we were there in spring headed into summer, not fall or winter.

Back to crafts. We found a couple of galleries featuring talented artists and some beautiful crafts. We especially liked Wilderness Gallery and Hokitika Craft Gallery. The “house mother” at our hostel (not sure her real title but she took care of us all very well) suggested some quality artisans when I asked her where to find the “good stuff.” Some were the galleries we found the day of our arrival (scouting talents confirmed!). Others were new, and she did not lead us astray.

I’m not sure how to explain this, but you see the same four or so pendant styles over and over and most are just that, the same form over and over to oblivion (here is a summary of the designs). But then you walk into a store owned by a true artisan. In our case, the artisan was Colin Davidson and his store is Heritage Jade (sorry, no website but there’s a bit about it here). The same form takes on a unique and powerful force. That “toki” (an adze) you’ve seen 500 times looks different, nuanced, special in every example he has on view. There’s an elegance and finesse. As if the story of the stone has come out. Colin was even commissioned to carve a piece for New Zealand to present to Aung San Suu Kyi.

The other jeweler of note was a gruff former military man, Rex Scott, who I met while photographing his hanging succulents (no really, hanging succulents, look here, and I was with Jeff at the time).

Succulent hanging in Hokitika

Beautiful cascading succulent

While he still works with greenstone, in some crave-worthy instances combined with copper (sorry, no photos were allowed, but here’s a photo he has online of a fabulous pounamu spider), he is particularly interested these days in chrysoprase. I was wearing my Great Aunt Dorothy and/or Great Grandmother Blench’s chrysoprase ring (I can only ever remember the name of the stone because the late Sir Terry Pratchett has a troll character named that in his fantasy series Disc World). You can see the ring in this photo. I walked out of his store, Tectonic Jade with a stunning (I think I may overuse that word in this country, but there you go) chrysoprase necklace. The store clerk had actually held it back off the floor as she liked to wear it, but brought it out as I was pouring over the chrosoprase pieces. She said she likes to keep the very special pieces for the ‘right’ person. Such flattery got her a sale from me!

Tearing ourselves away from the jewelry and other material wonders of Hokitika, we ventured out into the rainy countryside on roads winding around dairy farms to the Hokitika Gorge. The inn manager had recommended a walk to this spot. Here we walked across another swinging bridge, this time over a pool of powdery turquoise waters. The river, same color, issues from a glacier bearing fine silt/minerals that create that color. Stunning (there’s that word again).

Hokitika Gorge swing bridge

Hokitika Gorge from the swing bridge

Hokitika river

The river flowing into that gorge

After the gorge we drove off down the coast, stopping briefly at a postage-stamp park with a rare remnant of sand dune totara forest. The Mananui Bush Walk heads through this forest out to an enormous rock-strewn beach that we had all to ourselves, as far as the eye could see.
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From here it was off to find some of those turquoise water-generating glaciers. And that, as they say, is a story for another day.

Abel Tasman Track

In Which Jeff Gets His Bumpy Boat Ride and I Find the Best Ring Ever

After stocking up on groceries, very expensive (but not top shelf) gin and vodka (and tonic and limes of course), and moderately expensive facial products, Jeff and I headed off for our first national park adventure on the South Island. After talking with numerous people, we decided to stay in Little Kaiteriteri, as the name says, a very small town (town is even too big a word for it), just to the south of the park. Found another nice motel here, Torlesse Motels with views to the Tasman Sea.
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We arrived late in the day and scoped out options for taking a boat into the park the following day, then packed up a bag full of provisions, including our spendy gin and vodka, and headed to the small but stunning gold-sand beach less than five minutes from our place.
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As mentioned before, we were in New Zealand during spring. The plus side: peonies were in bloom, so I got them twice in one year! The down side: the weather was really spotty. We seemed to be visiting places just before or after good weather, but rarely during warm, sunny days. So rather than the bright sun, sapphire water and golden sand experience, we had the cloudy/rain, multi-colored water, and golden sand experience. With some big waves thrown in for good measure.

We decided that despite the weather we would take the Sea Shuttle “Discovery Day” tour, which included a boat trip from Kaiteriteri (the town next to our spot, Little Kaiteriteri). The boat motored up the coast to Totaranui, dropping people off at different bays along the way. We headed out on relatively calm waters, and the sun peeked out enough to throw some low rainbows.

Rainbows in Abel Tasman

Rainbows do make the rain more bearable

Rainbows of Tasman Bay

Several rainbows make it even better

About a third of the way through the trip, winds came in and the sea got big. Our little boat was going up and down waves, into and out of troughs. All of which made Jeff very happy and me, thankfully, only a bit green.

After at least an hour (or so it felt) of tossing upon the waves, we were dropped off at Medlands Beach to walk 10.5 kilometers to Anchorage Beach where we would be met by the boat and returned to Kaiteriteri. The weather report had called for the rain to lift by mid-day, when our hike was to start. The weather did not check in with the weather report… Thankfully the boat operators had a disposable rain poncho. Aside from feeling a bit like a walking trash bag, I at least did not get soaked through. And thankfully we were not doing the entire Abel Tasman Coast Track, one of the “Great Walks” of New Zealand. This one stretches for 60 kilometers and takes three to five days to complete. The people we saw who were clearly walking that did not look overly happy.

Here is where the pictures take over. It was a stunning walk, and as the photos of Jeff and me show, we were certainly not suffering. Storyline continues in the photo captions…

Hiking in abel tasman

Happy in my trash bag rain poncho

Dense bush of abel tasman

The “bush” was as dense as we had heard, the effect here, pure VanGogh

Swing bridge on coast walk

Our first swing bridge in New Zealand

Abel Tasman trees

Ghost trees agains the verdant forest

Jeff surveying the drippy forest

Jeff surveying the drippy forest

Drippy Torrent Bay

They were more prepared than we were…

Bays of Abel Tasman

Out of the forest back to the coast

Low tide to Anchorage Bay

Where we had to cross a rapidly filling estuary to finish our hike (at least via the ‘short’ path)

Hiking Abel Tasman Track

Another view of the estuary; that red sign shows where we need to go

Torrent Bay Estuary

Whimsical rocks lining the Torrent Bay Estuary at low tide

Abel Tasman shellfish

Clearly lots of shellfish. Sadly (but rightly) no collecting and consuming in the National Park.

Oysters in Abel Tasman

Evidence of oysters, but none to be found

Torrent Bay rock formations

More fabulous rock carving by the tides

Estuary crossing Abel Tasman

Happy selfie once we made it through the waist deep waters

Anchorage Bay

Out of the estuary into the (briefly) turquoise waters of Anchorage Bay

Abel tasman yoga pants

Well, maybe just shy of waist-deep waters

yoga on able tasman beach

And the back side

shells of new zealand

After I stopped posing, started looking through the sand and found this, the perfect shell ring, and just the right size

birds abel tasman

Quail on a mission

Anchorage Bay Abel Tasman

Shifting colors of Anchorage Bay

SeaShuttle service Abel Tasman

Jeff’s panorama of the boat after we returned to Kaiteriteri, on a thankfully calmer sea

And here some artsy shots; sea shells and burnt driftwood arranged on golden sands:
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The next day, still a bit on the rainy side, we headed out to a small local park known as “Resurgence,” officially Kahurangi National Park. The north branch of the Riwaka River emerges from a network of caves under Tanaka Hill. The color of the water where it surfaces is mesmerizing. Unsurprisingly the area is sacred to the Maori. A thoroughly beautiful and peaceful spot, with an almost weighted silence to it. Almost as if you want to hold your breath the whole time you’re there.

Carved Maori gate South Island

Entrance to Kahurangi National Park

Riwaka River

View of the river as we walked to the source

Resurgence park New Zealand

Resurgence. This just slightly captures the stunning color and peace of this place where the water surfaces from its under-the-mountain journey

Riwaka river view

So unbelievably green, stunning everywhere you looked

Resurgence pool New Zealand

Root dipping down to the purest of waters

Riwaka River pools

About 100 yards from the blue pool at its exit site, the river pools again, this time in this jewel-like green color

The rest of our time here was spent walking back and forth over the rocks (tide in) and around the rocks (tide out), from Little Kaiteriteri to (big?) Kaiteriteri, alternately in search of flat whites and green-lipped mussels. Many New Zealanders come here to vacation annually. A thoroughly enjoyable spot, even better I’m sure when the sun shines bright.