The Haast Pass and Mount Aspiring

Between the west coast of New Zealand’s south island and the rest of the isle there is a very large chain of mountains known as the southern alps.

Getting through these mountains is only possible in a few places, via passes which have been hewn out of the mountains by the glaciers of the past.

The most southerly of these passes is the Haast Pass, which also happens to be the lowest, with a maximum height of around 550m. The drive through this pass, as you might imagine, is somewhat spectacular, featuring snow capped mountains, massive glacially formed valleys, waterfalls, and weirdly blue waters.

I am definitely starting to conclude that New Zealand has no shortage of seriously awesome scenery. I am also starting to realise that my mastery of the English language may cause me to run out of superlatives in order to describe these marvels. Luckily, the wonders of the photograph can step in for me and save me the trouble. I think I might just have to move to full time photo blogging instead of writing at this rate.

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Glacier Country in Photos

Ah Geography. I remember it well. Teachers with funky patches over their tweed jackets, rambling on about rocks and weather and the importance of using the correct map colouring-in implement.

I knew that one day, all that important geography stuff would come in useful.

And I am pleased to report, that that day has finally arrived, with my recent trip to New Zealand’s most famous glaciers, where I was able, with a keen eye, to instantly recognise some glacially formed U-shaped valleys, and wow my travelling companion with my extensive knowledge.

There are two glaciers on the west coast of the south island which pretty much any visitor to New Zealand will be able to name – the Franz Josef and the Fox glaciers. These are handy for being very accessible and also rather spectacular. And, in peak season, rather busy, attracting around 600,000 visitors per year.

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Pancake Rocks and Possum Pie

The west coast of New Zealand’s south island is somewhat less inhabited than many other parts of these two isles, which has led to its locals having a somewhat more, shall we say, frontier approach to life.

This is no bad thing. Surviving off the land is a noble effort. And in the case of the Bushman’s Rest cafe, surviving off someone else's efforts at surviving off the land is the order of the day.

A quick aside at this point, to provide some quick facts on the creature known to science as the Trichosurus vulpecula, and to the rest of us as the Common Brushtail Possum. Native to Australia, New Guinea and Sulawesi. Not native to New Zealand.

In fact, the possum in New Zealand was brought here by settlers, who had this brilliant idea that it could be used to start a fur trade. The possums had other ideas, and by the mid eighties, had multiplied in number to a fairly staggering 70 million. Which was about the same number of possums as sheep, and worked out to about twenty possums per person. Plenty of fur to go around then.

The point of this aside, which I hope you have gotten now, is that New Zealand is practically knee deep in possums, lovable little critters who have no natural predators here, and who munch their way quite happily through 20,000 tonnes of prime New Zealand greenery… per night.

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Arches and whitebait on the west coast

For regular readers, don’t panic, despite the title, there is a lighthouse featured later on in the post.

However, today’s lighthouse tale is more of a side jaunt and less the main attraction – the cress as it were on the meat of today's post sandwich.

Because in this post I really want to talk about the weirdly laid back town of Karamea and its rather epic surrounds.

Tucked away in the far north west corner of New Zealand’s south island, this town is as far as you can get on the northern shore of the west coast – in a vehicle at least. It is possible to continue on foot by taking the 82km great walk called the Heaphy’s Track, which many choose to do.

Although, if it was me, I would choose to start the track from the other end, and arrive, 82km later, in the laid back town of Karamea, home, amongst other things, to its own seriously funky radio station. Good going for a town with a population of around 650.

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The sand and lighthouses of Golden Bay

Right at the tip of New Zealand’s South island sits the Golden Bay region: a remote and laid back area which is home to the quite remarkable Farewell Spit, a 26km long spit of sand that once stretched all the way across to the North Island.

These days higher sea levels mean that such a land bridge no longer exists, and instead this narrow strip of immense sand dune is home to a wetland of massive importance to migrating birdlife.

I’m not a tremendous expert on bird life, despite growing up on an island with a fairly ornithological theme (well, it was called Bird Island), but even so, it was hard not to be impressed by the sheer variety of migratory birdlife on offer.

Although, I have to say, I was more impressed by the scenery than the feathered inhabitants. Most of the spit is not open to the public in order to preserve it as a sanctuary, but you are allowed to walk the first 2.5km of beach and catch a glimpse of the first sand dunes, which tower dark and massive over the surrounding area. A haze of sand is not unusual in this area, sand which blows to the end of this ever growing section of land.

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The Abel Tasman National Park

Situated near the top end of New Zealand’s south island, the Abel Tasman national park is home to stunning golden sand beaches, rugged cliffs, native bush and a whole bunch of seals who could do with a breath mint or three.

It’s a hugely popular summer time destination for Kiwis and tourists alike, with many choosing to tramp the 51km length of the classic Abel Tasman great walk.

In Winter on the other hand, when we visited, the park has a somewhat more desolate feel. The beaches are still golden, but are more likely to be framed by angry grey clouds and a blustery wind than the endless blue skies of summer.

On the positive side, the weather pretty much guarantees solitude, with the crowds staying away, and only a few hardy souls knocking about. Oh, and the sandflies. They don’t give up in Winter either.

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Picton to Nelson with Queen Charlotte

Picton is the first place you come to on New Zealand’s south island, having been wowed by the rather awesome ferry crossing from Wellington.

More on that ferry crossing, including some photos of our mill pond like crossing, can be found as part of a guest blog I did for Denise over at NZ Escapes, which can be found here.

Once off the ferry however, the amazement does not end. From Picton there is a choice (much like in those old text based adventure games) where one can GO SOUTH or one can GO WEST. We opted to go West, following in the footsteps of the Pet Shop Boys, and explore the winding and scenic route that is the Queen Charlottle Drive.

This area is, we quickly learnt, full of Sounds – the New Zealand equivalent of a fjord, or basically, a sea inlet. Mountains rise up out of these in swooping fashion, and I have to admit to feeling rather lucky that the weather was being so kind to us, what with clear blue skies nuzzling the sea mist out of the valleys.

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Rivendell and beyond

You may think, having read some of my posts on exploring the world of Tolkien as it has been realised in New Zealand, that the filming locations from the three Lord of the Rings films are treated as sacred, almost hallowed ground.

You probably imagine that domes have been carefully placed over the sites in question, hermetically sealing the environment so that it can be preserved and enjoyed by countless future generations to come.

Well, you may not think that. But what you may not have realised is that, quite often, my quest to find these locations is somewhat stymied by the passage of time, or the progress of man, or the fact that stuff was filmed on private land which the owners have no interest in opening up to geeks like me.

Other times, the quest is easy, but the outcome is not quite what one expected. Here are some examples from the past few days to explain a little further what I mean.

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Dimholt: Walking the roads of the dead

The ongoing quest to see as many parts of the Lord of the Rings scenery as possible has continued, with a trip to the Cape Palliser pinnacles, where Aragorn, Gimli and Leglolas spent some time wandering in order to awaken the army of the dead in Return of the King.

Cape Palliser is near the bottom of the North island, a few stones throws away from Wellington.

There is a convenient campsite located at the start of the walk, which was where we spent the night, preparing ourselves for the task ahead.

Which turned out not to be that hard. The day that greeted us was strangely appropriate for wandering around the paths that only the dead were supposed to walk, what with it being damp. Tendrils of cloud licked around the mountains near us, and the promise of rain was coming across the sea.

Still, that is what waterproof clothing is supposed to be for. We kitted up, and set off. The first twenty minutes or so of the walk followed a wide gravelly stream bed (I’m sure I’ve read somewhere that following stream beds in the rain is a no-no) which wasn’t quite as I remembered the roads of the dead.

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Highlights of the Wairarapa

You know those friends of yours who come back from some “life changing” trip, and bore you to tears for ages on end with the joy of travel and how incredibly awesome the whole thing was, slide show and all? (Yes, I appreciate a travel blog is a very similar thing. Bear with me.)

Well, there was a chap in New Zealand who went somewhat further than a mere slideshow and the odd photograph from his travels. For Irish immigrant John Martin, this was not enough. Instead, he decided to build an entire town dedicated to his life's journey. Called Martinborough (well, what else), this town is a testament to one mans narcissim.

Laid out in the shape of the union jack, the streets are all named after places he visited whilst out and about in the world. Ohio Street thusly nestles up against Venice Street. Dublin St is just round the corner from Naples Rd. I feel that I should applaud him for his sheer temerity. Planning for Norahville is in its early stages.

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Art Deco on the East Coast

You know when you play Bioshock, and the whole game has this weird 1930’s feel complete with odd writing and funny hats? Well, walking around Napier or Hastings on New Zealand’s East Coast is very much like that gaming experience, only with less on the ghoulish child front and more on the arty, pretty front.

Of course, there is the distinct possibility that some of you have not played Bioshock, one of my favourite games of the 21st century. This is fine. For you, I have different imagery. It’s called the twenties and thirties, and it’s a look that Napier and Hastings are clinging to with quite some tenacity.

The reason for all this Art Deco (and it really is everywhere, from building architecture to signage to cinema listings) was a devastating earthquake that reduced most of the town of Napier to rubble on February 3rd, 1931. Measuring 7.9 on the Richter scale, and killing 258 people, this has gone down in history as one of New Zealand’s worst natural disasters.

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