West Coast Road Trip

We packed up, fed the sheep a few more handfuls of sheep nuts (looks just like regular old pellets for farm animals), cleaned the kitchen and ate as much of the fruit compote as we could manage.  Rolled out at 8 AM and headed for Queenstown.  We were taking Alissa to the airport so she could start the long trip home, with a stopover in Sydney.  Kissed her goodbye and lost our easy navigation, our cheerful fellow traveler, our best ideas person.
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Detour ... Ever since our children have been old enough to travel, they have traveled a lot.  They have been to many more places than Jon and I have ever been, and we are twice as old. Each of them did a semester abroad but they have also taken lengthy trips, sometimes for months at a time. Alissa was last in New Zealand six years ago when she took a trip around the globe -- as her "last" hurrah before medical school.  Since then, she has been to Australia five times, Guatemala twice, multiple major cities in Europe, Israel, Hong Kong, Singapore, Hawaii.  Anyway, the point of this detour in the story is that we have had the opportunity to travel with each of them and they always take care of us wherever we go because they are so adept at using the technology in their pocket, they aren't afraid to ask questions, and they are basically unflappable. Plus they adapt to our style of travel, which is slower and more comfortable -- no hostels, no overnight trains.  They get to spend more money (ours) when they are with us but they are still very frugal. We all buy food at supermarkets and have picnics, we choose housing that is not the most expensive but is the most interesting.  In recent years, we have traveled with Rebecca more than the others -- and we haven't traveled with Alissa since 2010 in England.
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We didn't stop in Queenstown but we could see it from a distance, perched along the base of the mountains on the edge of a gorgeous big lake. It was 10:00 in the morning and we wanted to keep moving.  We did stop to take pictures many times, and we went to a beach next to a lake with the clearest, most alluring water (kind of cold, stones on the bottom, not sand). We had lunch at a picnic table that was so tall my feet couldn't touch the ground.

The road north hugged some giant lakes, went through rain forests, crossed valleys, became one of those switchback coastal roads overlooking the Pacific Ocean, went back inland, and crossed dozens of one lane bridges. Waterfalls everywhere. The thing is, the landscape changes constantly. Either we are in the mountains or we are in a wide valley or we are on the coast or we are amongst the sheep. It does not stay the same. It feels like Hawaii quite often, with almost no people.  There is NO trash on the road, not one tiny piece. We also encountered at least three of those traffic lights that stops one direction for 5 or 10 minutes because the road has washed out or there has been a rockslide.  This is the super rainy side of the island.  Fox Glacier is the rainiest -- it gets 6 meters of rain a year.  People collect rainwater off the roof and that is a dependable source of water year round. It has not rained a drop since we arrived a week ago.

We stopped for an early dinner in a town that is there because of its glacier (Franz Josef) and we went to a restaurant and waited forever to be served because the waiter forgot to put in our order. We wrote postcards and got caught up on our email while we waited. I had a lamb burger which did not taste as yummy as I had imagined. It was a lot like venison, kind of dry. Jon had a more successful bowl of larb gai with a pint of hard cider.  Jon did some research on his phone and decided it was totally fine not to leave a tip, so he didn't. Otherwise he would have had to figure out how much to leave, and that seemed way too complicated. Besides, they forgot to feed us for a really long time.

Now we are in a house in one of those flat valley areas, with mountains on the near horizon inland and the ocean about 4 km to the west.  This host has a pet calf, a baby deer, a ram and two dogs.  Her husband is a professional guide for hunters, and the house is full of hunter evidence.  She is friendly and cheerful and welcoming. This is the first house we have been in that looks lived in, which is kind of a relief.

Oh, look at that, sheep.

Food for the sheep in the winter.

Mountain Lupin, an invasive, but it brightens up the roadways.

Hana sees a lake like this and just wants to jump in. But the water temperature is a disincentive.

Looking back after climbing out of Queenstown.

This time Jon's showing off the picnic table.

 

On the most beautiful day at the height of summer, this constitutes a crowded beach.

Another lake, another mountain.

The West Coast, a UNESCO World Heritage Area.

Beside our B&B a mountain looms.

Milford Sound

A few more observations:

None of us has ever experienced this before, but we keep hitting birds with the car or seeing other people hitting birds. This is unexplainable.  Why are they flying so low and why are they so easy to hit? Ugh. Alissa says this will be part of the evolutionary process.

There are deer inside fences, grazing in herds and they are sleek and chubby just like the horses and cows. This was the NZ response to too many wild deer destroying the natural habitat. And there are only 6 ft fences around the deer. They must be so fat they can't jump.

In a guidebook at our current house, the NZ accent is described as "sweetly mangled vowels." The person who wrote that description came from England and emigrated to Australia so he would have a particular angle on the vowels.

There are so few mammals here. We keep trying to identify the roadkill and they all have dark brown fur and they are probably opossums.

Oh, except for sheep. Many sheep. Can't have a day without a sheep picture.

Let's not forget the cows, too.

The key feature that makes NZ so unique and amazing is its remoteness.  This is why paradise is not yet overrun with humans. It is really far away and hard to get to. And now they won't let you come here unless you have a solid plan to leave.

We had only one real plan for today and it involved a long journey on a winding, hilly road.  We set out in plenty of time, with enough food to get us all the way through the day.  First we stopped in Te Anau to see about the market but it was really just a local flea market, nothing to do with fruit or vegetables so we moved on.  We drove through increasingly dramatic scenery, with more steep mountains rising up from lakes and valleys, more waterfalls coming straight down sheer cliffs, lots of birch trees and tropical undergrowth hugging the road.

Pictures along the way.

Refreshing waterfalls.

At about 11:30 we stopped so Jon and Alissa could go on a hike and I could stay in the shade and read my book. They were gone for longer than expected but they got all the way to the summit and took lots of pictures along the way.

This tarn (divot cut out by a glacier) was dry but left wild colored moss.

Alissa says it was a three hour intermediate difficulty hike and they got a lot of bang for their buck -- shady for a while and then you push hard and you get up to great views of the valley below.  There were plenty of other people doing the same trail.  

Now the views from the top. Looking west toward the fiord with the valley stream visible.

More tarns and the path visible.

Right in the middle you can see a little of a lake tarn up in the saddle between mountains.

Waterfalls all around the fiord.

Sheer rock walls, with mountains
looming above.

Our destination was Milford Sound, really a fiord (that's how they spell it here).  We took a cruise on a smaller boat, through the fiord that went for over eight miles before it came out on the Tasman Sea.  The glacier had left a deep clear path to the ocean, with steep cliffs that are now covered with vegetation that grows out of the rock.  The captain made announcements from time to time but we could only understand about 25% of his words.  He was speaking English but those vowels were quite mangled.  Mostly he was telling us how tall the mountains were, how deep the water was, how long ago the glacier moved th

rough here (17,000 years), how many crayfish they catch on this coast (I forget but it was some number like 1700 tons), and why the dolphins aren't showing up today (sunny and beautiful, they usually come out when it rains).

Looking back into the fiord from out at sea.

"Seal Rock."

Windy on the boat.

On the way to the sound, there was a tunnel that was one way only. When we got to the sign it said the wait would be over five minutes. There was plenty of scenery to admire and we didn't mind.  The tunnel itself was a marvel of engineering and nothing all that fancy.  Spooky and dark and rugged. Would not want that to be a two way tunnel.

Three pictures from the road, Lots of waterfalls from the snow and glacial melt

Mountains, but also meadows. Glaciers are amazing.

Around every corner a new awesome vista.

I think the pictures are going to have to tell the story today. This is one of those times when words don't do it.

Oh, more sheep. But these we get to feed at our B&B.

Sheep Farm -- Possibly the High Point, Says Jon

Alissa got dropped off at our swanky apartment at 8 AM (David had to go back to Australia, much to his dismay since NZ is now at the top of his list) and she and Jon got busy on planning the next few days.

We meandered out of town, stopping wherever we wanted to take pictures or admire a bit of local scenery. We went through a valley that was packed with orchards and fruit stands, and we finally picked one random place.  Fresh apricots, plums, nectarines, cherries from right there. Jon almost bought the biggest container but we reminded him we still had about a half bushel of fruit in the car from yesterday's shopping.

We were heading south. This is probably the furthest south we will ever be in our lives -- the closest we will ever be to Antarctica.  The sheep are endless, the terrain is ever changing, and every town has friendly amenities. You have got to love a country that has well-marked, clean, fancy public toilets everywhere you go, for free. That is so different from everywhere else.  We stopped to have lunch in Gore, a town that prides itself on its country music ("World Capital of Country Music" said one sign) and on its brown trout.   There are also picnic tables on the side of every road, with a sign that alerts you to their location. This place has won my heart for its bathrooms and picnic tables, never mind the consistently friendly reception and the unbelievable mountains and lakes and hills and sky and plains. Also there are good supermarkets in every town. They want tourists and campers to be comfortable and happy.

Without really understanding what Bluff was, we went there. It was a port town at the end of the road, at some point on the end of the island (but not officially the southernmost point). We drove to the top of the hill that overlooks the beach and the port and the kind of scruffy landscape.  Not much to report but we were there. There were signs that identified islands and points of interest but there wasn't enough information to make it interesting, really.

Antarctica just over the horizon.

A real sheepdog, the best.

After a good while on a dusty gravel road we arrived at the sheep farm that would be our sleeping destination. According to our very friendly host, this is a kind of a small farm (370 acres with 1000 sheep and some cows and they train sheep dogs). It has a magnificent view, but just as we got there the sky got all cloudy and we couldn't see all the way to the ocean and the fiordlands but we could still see for many, many miles. Our sleeping quarters were at the top of a big hill, through many pastures and paddocks. I got to ride up in the truck with our bags and Alissa and Jon made the trek.  We spent the night in a "hut' with no electricity and no running water. But it did have a shower if you mixed boiling water with rain water and climbed up to pour it into a suspended kettle on the roof. We skipped the shower.  We had a picnic dinner and we read our books until we were sleepy but we still went to bed before dark. It was still light at 10 PM.  The hut had a nice wood stove, a table with stools, cupboards, dishes, bunks. We were cozy and comfortable even though it got chilly in the night.

View from the cabin.

View of the farm homestead, shearing and containment barn big roof on the left and house on the right.
Sheep everywhere.

Cabin with black rainwater catchment tank on left and shower under it.

The farmers had purchased the farm about 14 years ago from a family that had owned the property for 5 generations.  Justine, the host who greeted us, grew up in England and was working as a "rousie" (support crew for shearers who had come from NZ during their winter) when she met her husband who was a traveling fencing repair guy.  That was all the story I got, but what a huge leap to go all the way to the other side of the world to live and become a sheep farmer.  When she goes home to visit her family, it is a 35 hour trip.



Jon and Alissa could have slept for longer, but I was ready to get up at about 6:30.  We ate through some more of our mountain of fruit and we made some uncooked currant/raspberry jam with the local honey we had bought from a self-service bus stop sort of structure.

All day it felt like we were driving through a national part, but the park was really on the other side of the lakes, and we can't see the fjords from here.  There are so few people in this vast terrain.  Stopped in Te Anau (rhymes with Keanu), a town with the sole purpose of housing tourists, feeding tourists, and setting them up to go tramping. Alissa and Jon went on a hot and sunny walk around the lake and to a bird sanctuary while I sat in the shade and read my book. They came back a little sunburned.

Many completely different kinds of vegetation on a pretty short hike.

Our next abode is at a dairy and sheep farm. In the refrigerator there were two liters of raw, creamy milk waiting for us. Alissa and I drank most of one -- delicious.  We have an entire half a house to ourselves, with full kitchen and livingroom and two bedrooms. There is a jug of "sheep nuts" that we are supposed to go out and give the pet sheep because they are expecting it.  Had a lovely hot dinner of lamb sausage, scrambled eggs with fresh herbs and Alissa is making a pot of fruit compote to go with the ice cream.

Everyone tells us the weather was horrible until a few weeks ago and now it is just clear and sunny and delightful. The farmers are wishing it would rain a little again because that's how farmers are.

On to Wanaka, with Side Trips

After muesli and yogurt at the table with the view of the bay (a lovely sunny morning), we got ourselves organized to go back out to our job of touring.  First we drove around the edges of the waterfront -- and learned too late that there were tiny penguins who come in at night to sleep -- and walked around downtown (lots of small businesses, not many places to buy postcards).  When the Museum of South Canterbury opened at 10, we were at the door.  This museum told a long and well documented story of the region, and of the ways that NZ was populated and how the explorers finally came to find these islands (navigational expertise involving stars, knowing about bird migration, the reflections off of clouds, and wind) which are not that easy to get to because the currents do not just bring you here. We spent longer than we meant to, reading all the stories and watching the movies. It was a pretty sophisticated museum with lots of artifacts and interesting themes.  At the end we watched three short films about three famous people who grew up in Tiramu or nearby. There were about three more movies but we had to get back on the road.  One story was about a world record breaking runner who got a gold medal at the 1936 Olympics in the 1500M and went on to be a surgeon at the very hospital that Benjamin's project is housed (Hospital for Special Surgeries), and who is remembered by an oak tree that he received for winning the race (as did all the winners) that he donated to his old school in Tiramu. People are still planting new trees from those acorns.

These flowers are in bloom all over the country and Hana is determined to find out what they are.

Our second activity was picking raspberries since it is summer here and I have only traveled during the summer about four times in my life (once to England with my aunt in 1982 when we picked raspberries). The first farm we got to was not having pick your own today so we bought some already picked strawberries and cherries and went to find another place.  Ended up going in from the back side, on a gravel road, crossing a wide ford with no water in it, and arrived to find an unattended farm.  Eventually the owner came back from wherever and gave us some containers and we went out to pick. Jon picked red currants but I stuck with the original plan. This farm has been in business for 27 years, it is named after the four sons (Stancrdu Farm) -- I think there might have been a better solution to that naming challenge. In the end, none of the sons decided to farm anyway.

Can hardly move, but still the best picker.

The day's haul. All delicious.

Then we began the long drive west, through flat plains and rolling hills and past bazillions of sheep and past that striking blue water in lakes and rivers that Jon compares to the color of Baskin-Robbins Dacquiri Ice.  We stopped to take pictures whenever we wanted to.  It was a two lane highway with lots of campers and trucks and cars, quite busy.  It took all my personal vigilance to keep the car on the road, while Jon did the actual driving, unconcerned. He worries about such different things from me. We went through a mountain pass and we marveled at the uniformity of the very low bushes all the way to the tops of the mountains. Not much biodiversity on those mountainsides. Dramatic from a distance and from up close, those smooth lines and high peaks.

You can never take enough pictures of sheep, although I'm sure the cows feel slighted.

Once again, the incredible blue of the water.

These hills are covered with just one kind of tufted grass which makes for an incredible sight.
Plus they are offset by the blue flowers (are they delphinium?) and all the bees in them.

By 5:45 we rolled into Wanaka (rhymes with Chanukah or Monica), a resort town with a big lake with mountains rising just to the west. This morning Alissa and David got up at 3:00 to climb the mountain and see the sunrise from the top.  These are real mountains. Alissa said there were 20 other crazy people on the trail with them, and plenty of sheep all the way to the top. New Zealand doesn't have any snakes or scary animals so they climbed with headlamps and no fear.  It was freezing in the dark.

Our new Airbnb house is quite fancy, with landscaping that reminds me of California. We have the upstairs suite, a loft. Tons of space for two people traveling with very little luggage.

We met David and Alissa at a fish and chips shop at the lake and we had a nice picnic with tons of fresh fruit and delicious fish and fried cauliflower.  David says this is his favorite place on earth. It is like the Riviera/Lake Como/Hawaii with a glacier.  The water is clear and cold.  Alissa reminded us that the South Island was formed not by volcanos but by tectonic uplift -- and that explains why the soil looks different from the North Island.

It is 9:45 at night and still light out.  Traveling at a time of year when flowers are blooming and people are on vacation -- it's so different. We need to stay awake long enough to see the stars. Alissa says she saw the Milky Way last night because the moon rises so late.