Au Revoir (Until I See You Again)

Dec. 10

Last day in NZ. Last day out and about on the Excellent Adventure. I don’t even know when or where this will be posted from as in two days I’ll be back in the cold and snow – it’s sunny and 75 here. No offense to any of my loved ones, but I don’t want to go back to Wisconsin

Two days ago I went up the western side of the peninsula, yesterday I stayed in the middle, so today I will go up the eastern side. I am heading for Cathedral Cove. This spot is currently famous for being in the new Narnia movie.  As a matter of fact, many of the Narnia scenes from all three movies have taken place in NZ, just as Lord of the Rings movies have. Today I will see two of those locations. Cathedral Cove has been famous for many years though. I drive along, yes, you guessed it, more winding, scary, terrifically beautiful roads on the way up the coast. This side is newer, less historic-gold-mine-era, more sea-side-fun-living type. Interesting to see the difference.  I have decided to take a tour from the water as I have read the rock formations in this area can only be really appreciated from that vantage point. I picked a tour that takes out just a few people on a rigid inflatable and can then fit into small and shallow areas. I meet the boat on the beach and the young guy and girl ask if I’m Peggy and I say ‘Yes, people always know who I am because I’m the one who’s always alone.” And they both say “Awww.’ And I reply, “No, it’s okay, because  usually being alone gives me the best seat.” And sure enough, I find I am in the front hanging on for dear life with the best view and the most bumps; maybe not great for my back, but great for thrills. The cliffs and cave formations are phenomenal in this area. Lots of old lava flows are visible, many caves have formed from years of battering waves and tides, and tunnels can be seen through many rocks.  We are able to just squeeze into a tiny cave that opens into a huge cavern that becomes a blowhole in high tide. Way above our heads, about 100 feet, we see the sun shining through the opening of the blow hole ringed with trees and bushes. Our guide tells us the spray from the blow hole can be seen flying in the air during strong weather. Swirls, layers and pigment all combine to make interesting formations along the bank. We head into another cave with a large opening and finds scores of blue fish about 6-12 inches long swimming and jumping on the surface and almost as many huge jelly fish floating in the clear water, having been blown in by the tide. The water is so clear we can see the rocks on the bottom and the way the jelly fish propel themselves through the water. Lastly we head for Cathedral Cove which is a huge rock formation on the beach which forms a large tunnel-like arch. People are walking in and around it and even swimming around the part of it in the water. It is quite impressive and I can see why it is used in movies. We then head back to our landing spot and unload at the beach. I walk on the soft sand for a bit because it is a glorious day and I am reluctant to leave this beautiful spot with the turquoise water and warm sun on my face.

As I drive back toward Thames I know I am going right past the turn for Hot Water Beach and I know I am going by at the right time of day also. As I get to the turn I make a split second decision to go for it, who knows if I will ever get back here again. Hot Water Beach is situated over a superheated underground reservoir or river of water caused by an old volcano and this hot water literally bubbles up from the earth at low tide. So, if you go there within two hours of low tide, bring a shovel and dig a hole, supposedly hot water will fill the hole and you will have a natural spa. Seems a little farfetched to me, but our guide on the boat pointed it out to us and said there’s always at least a hundred people there and it’s best if you just let other people dig a hole and wait for them to leave and then get in their hole. He also said to let it mix with sea water to cool it a bit. I’m thinking there is no way this water is hot enough for me and why would I want to cool it off with the sea water. So I drive down to the parking lot and walk on to the beach. I don’t see anyone. I’m counting on other people digging so I have to find other people. I look down the beach farther and finally see a big crowd and realize I have found Hot Water Beach. I walk down and see the craziest scenes. People are literally laying around in little sand moats while other people are frantically digging walls of sand that are eroded by the waves as quickly as they are built. People are standing watching, some are swimming and some are like me, poaching feels of water. I put my foot in the first empty pool I come across and it is as cold as the ocean. Next pool is the same, and so is the next one. I move closer to the bigger crowds and start to feel a little warmth. As I stand outside one of the moats and the waves lap around my ankles, my feet slowly sink into the sand and as they sink I start to feel more heat. A girl near me says”Are you feeling it yet? And I say “Yes, I am. It’s so neat.” And as I kept sinking it got warmer and warmer and hotter and hotter and I had to jump out of the pocket of sand. The guide had said it comes out of the ground at 62 degrees Celsius and I thought “No Way”. But now I believe him. As I move around to different spots it becomes apparent why the water is steaming and in certain spots, bubbling. This water is coming up scalding hot. It is incredible. I move around and test different spots and can’t stand in a certain area of the ocean for more than 10 seconds before my feet felt like the soles are burnt. People are just lying in the shallows of the ocean in another spot because the waves would come in and mix with the scalding water and cover them with nice bath temperature water. I don’t have a swimming suit so I can’t lie down, but it is just a riot to be here and feel the heated water flow up and see all the people from all over the world digging in the sand like little kids so they could get a free spa bath at the ocean. I really felt like my feet are going to hurt and feel scorched for days, but as I walk back to my car they feel fine.

As I drive my winding way back to my cottage above the Thames I consider myself a pretty lucky lady for seeing the sights I’ve seen today and the beautiful weather I have had. I hate to go back because that means the trip is over and all that is left is the final phase of packing. But back I go and pack, and almost as if the sun knows it is a sad day, the sunset is rather bleak and unspectacular.  I finish my last glass of NZ wine and close my eyes for the last time on this island.

Dec.11

I’m up early and off to the airport. I never went into Auckland so this is the biggest city yet on my four week drive. About 20 kilometers from the airport I hit a real expressway. The first one and since I find out the airport is on my side of Auckland, I never see Auckland either. So I drive up and deliver a filthy, filthy hub-cap-less, scratched and really tired car to the rental place. 4,000 kilometers later I am leaving this wonderful blue Toyota that managed to get me through all those mountains and winding ocean drives. I just thank God I was never stranded anywhere remote; no tires flattened or blew out, no smashed windows, no bad car stories at all except of my own making. (Still mess up the blinkers and windshield wipers!) Of course I am also leaving a credit card payment for all the damages.

One car, but here are all the places it took me to : A perfect B&B for 3 nights in the suburbs of Christchurch, a B&B overlooking Lake Tekapo, 3 nights in a self-catering cottage in Lake Manapouri in Fiordland, 4 nights in an apartment overlooking the lake and the Remarkables mountain range in Queenstown, a night in the Bates motel in Fox Glacier, 3 nights in a self-catering cottage overlooking the ocean  in Punakaki (Pancake Rocks), a B&B for two nights overlooking mountains and sea in Kaikoura, 4 nights in the Penthouse apartment overlooking the sea and Tahunanui Beach in Nelson, a night in a motel in Wangunui, a night in a motel in Rotorua, and 4 nights in a B&B cottage overlooking the Firth of the Thames.

 And so ends an excellent adventure. Just like every other trip, just like every other traveler, I will wait in an airport, sleep fitfully on several airplanes and be welcomed home by a loving family. I’ll be jet lagged and forget  much of what happened, and within days it will all have seem like a world away, just a dream I had one night. But what a special dream, and one I will cherish as I had so many of you along with me. Thank you for riding along with me in that Toyota. I knew I was never alone. Au revoir New Zealand and friends.

P.S.

My contact e-mail is gowithpeggy@gmail.com if you want information on any of the places I stayed or visited. I would be happy to help.

The Days Dwindle Down

Dec. 9

I’ve slept very well in this lovely little cottage overlooking the Firth. The sunsets have been glorious, the sliver of a moon rises each night above the bay, and each morning I eat a hearty breakfast of fruits, homemade granola, yogurt, plunger coffee, juice, toast and jam. Each day a baked treat is left for me to enjoy that evening. They have a big, butterscotch tom cat that comes to visit me every day. He is not supposed to come in to my cottage, but as they don’t use screens here and my doors are wide open, I hear is plaintive meow before I see him as he begs me to pet him. He is a rascal and I can’t resist. So a little petting and playing and then he moves on.

This is my second last day of my adventure. Hard to believe it is almost over. I decide to go to the Kauaeranga (try pronouncing that!) Gorge. This huge valley happens to be right behind where I am staying and was once filled with the great kauri trees and was extensively logged from 1870 until the 1920’s. The kauri tree can live to 2,000 years old and when the limbs fall off they don’t create knots so it was a much prized wood. Unfortunately most of it was logged, which is why so much is being done in NZ now to bring back native plantings such as the kauri. This gorge was the transit line via streams, rivers, log chutes, skidded roads, and bush tramways for the felled kauri. The main road in today is gravel and follows the river and only a few ancient kauri still exist. There are many different walks, swing bridges, campgrounds and a large 80 person hut near the pinnacle. I’m not even allowed on gravel roads with my car, so I’m not going too far in. On my way the road is again being recovered and I’m stopped by the road workers. One of them comes up to me and says, in the perfect NZ way “There’s some pitch in the middle of the road, but if you stay to the left we won’t be having any drama.” Isn’t that great? Drama. I stay to the left, smiling away at the thought of avoiding the ‘drama’.

After stopping at the Conservation station and making sure where the easy walks are, I continue down the road. I pass no other cars and I am alone in this incredibly wild and beautiful gorge that winds around and through the forests with crags and peaks rising on the sides and in the distance and the river rushing over rocks beside the road. The foliage is semi-tropical and I am again reminded of Jurassic Park and have the feeling anything could come out of the forest at any time. But then I remember it’s NZ and the worst problem they have is a nuisance possum. So I park and follow a well marked route into the bush and along the river. It starts to rain which is incredible, not because it is raining, but because in the 26 days I have been here it has not rained once. It sprinkled one morning when I was inside writing. But I have never been outside in the rain. My windshield wipers have been used every day as turn signals, but never for rain. So I am not bothered by this rain as the forest is heavy and lets little through, and my rain jacket is good. I follow the trail over bridges and up steps and along the river and then double back as I don’t want to leave my car on the road too long. What an enormous and fascinating place to someday come back to.

I then go to a little café in Thames for lunch and to hook up to the internet. I have a great pumpkin and feta quiche with a ‘flat white’ which is some kind of espresso with milk in it – not a latte and not a cappuccino.  Afterwards, I browse the clothing stores and am amazed at how different the styles are for women. Much more fun I think. Then I head back to the B&B for that horrid task of compiling and sorting and packing four weeks’ worth of not buying anything. ;) I don’t want to spoil my last day with just packing so I will try to get a lot done today. But I still have time to drink my wine and watch the sun again dazzle over the Thames and another, slightly larger, crescent moon fly above the Firth.

PS I don't know where or when my next post will be coming from as I don't have internet here. Perhaps home.....

Driving Firth

Dec. 8

Nobody told me the Coromandel is a bunch of mountains running into the sea!!!!!!! After going to McDonalds for the free Wi-Fi to post yesterday’s blog, I blithely take off on my day jaunt to Coromandel town and to explore this side of the peninsula. Three minutes out of Thames on the main highway, the only real road on this side of the peninsula, the road narrows to exactly two car widths wide. That is, one side of the road hugging major cliffs going up, the other side dropping immediately to the Firth; the Firth now widening out to the ocean. Admittedly, sometime we are only 10 -20 feet above the ocean, but most the time it is major rock outcroppings I would crash onto. Other times it is 50 feet above the sea and I’m sure my wheels are just barely feeling asphalt. And of course the speed limit is 100kph. And the curves are so tight there are multiple mirrors set up so you can see who you are going to crash into around each cliff. In places there is absolutely no shoulder and you have to believe that other car is going to stay in their lane or you wouldn’t be able to drive. Aside from the one lane bridges I have already told you about, which there are several of, there is also one spot in the road that is only one lane wide. Yes, one lane wide. You wait your turn and hope the other guy does too. I don’t know if they got tired of blasting away at the cliffs, ran out of money, or what, but it’s only one lane hugging the cliff. Needless to say, the tension in my back has returned.

But… the drive was magnificent. Coromandel is stunning. The guide books mention a tree called the pohutukawa that blooms in December along this coast. Well, it is December so I am on the lookout for this tree also called the NZ Christmas tree. And I do find it, between glimpses of sheer wall inches from my car and drops to the rocks below, I am privileged to gaze upon what is holding all these rocks together; and that is the mighty pohutukawa tree. In maturity, it forms a large, gnarled and rough barked tree which blossoms with deep crimson blooms. These blooms are restrained, not profuse like a cherry or apple tree, so a tree is dappled rather than covered with crimson. Almost as if it knows it is so magnificent and important a tree it doesn’t need to burst with blooms, merely present. And present it does, all along the coast, large and small trees present their lovely blooms. These trees line the numerous beaches, coves, bays and cliffs along my drive

I’m making my way to the Driving Creek Railroad just outside the town of Coromandel. This is a small narrow gage train that is privately owned by a potter and runs up steep grades, four trestle bridges, two spirals, a double switchback and through several tunnels, finishing at the ‘Eyeful Tower.’ Once at the tower the views over the bay and through to Auckland are incredible.  NZ is working feverishly to bring back their native bush. Much of it was cut and burned both by native Maori and early settlers, then non-native species were introduced and took over. This led to the demise of both native plant and animal life. The Douglas fir is one of the trees which has thrived. It grows six times faster here than in Colorado, but nothing else grows underneath it, so no native plants are regenerating. In some areas they are clear cutting these pines and re-introducing native bush. In other areas it is a crop tree. This railroad land is adjacent to a nature preserve and has planted almost 26,000 native plants.  I am sitting with a young man from England taking a break from his law studies and two little children and their father from France. The hour long ride passes through beautiful regenerated bush with outstanding views of the sea and islands below along with lots of pottery artworks staged along the way. A very unique experience. I then ride down with an English couple and their two children who came to NZ 8 years ago for two months and are still here. A rather common scenario I am hearing.

After the railroad I drive back to Coromandel and explore the cute little shops and cafes which are plentiful. I spend a few dollars then drive out of town to explore before dinner. By the way, when you are in a Kiwi’s home they always refer to dinner as tea. The first time someone asked me to tea was back in Christchurch and I was going out sightseeing for the day, and I thought to myself there is no way I’ll be back in time for tea. As they kept talking I realized they meant dinner because they mentioned 7:00PM. It happened another time too. But if you go out, they call it dinner. I’m not sure why. Anyway, I drove out of town in a direction I thought would take me to the last town on the peninsula, but as usual, I was mixed up. Another by the way: if you ask a Kiwi for direction, they always tell you how to get there and then say “You can’t miss it.” And I miss it every time. Part of it is because I am alone and no one is helping me look, but their idea of signage is not like ours – little, bitty signs on posts, with a whole bunch of others, maybe, and never in the same spots on each street. The ‘big brown sign’ I was looking for today was the normal size of one of our street signs back home. So I never found the town, but I ended up on this really cool spit of land going out to the sea. Very treacherous and narrow, in spots it was only wide enough for the road or the road and one house. But the views were spectacular in all directions. This coast has to have some of the most tremendous views in the world. I would be willing to put it against any of the famous coasts you read about or have seen. It doesn’t have the picturesque homes of southern Europe or the thatched huts of Bali, but the coastline, the islands and the water color is unbelievable. The water looks fake, like some giant came in the night and dropped in dye. Fantastic.

I drive carefully back to town and to a restaurant specializing in mussels. Mussels and oysters are famous in this region. Both are farmed here and plentiful. I am not a big fan of mussels, but the green lipped mussel is from here so I have to order some. I decide a glass of champagne will help. After very good, very large mussels, I have lentil and feta fritters on ragout. Very nice. Then I wind my way back home to witness another brilliant sunset from my deck with my glass of NZ wine. Not a bad way to end the day.

Firth Things

Dec. 7

I awoke in my lovely room, made my plunger coffee, said good bye to that wonderful spa tub and drove to the free city park to look at mud holes, steam vents and boiling sulphur. There is a ton to do in this area and you could easily spend 2-4 days here and lots of money. But I am more eager to get to other parts of NZ so I am going for the freebie in the park. The park has fenced off an impressive amount of vents and bubbling holes where you can walk safely and see the thermal activity. It amazes me most to see what actually grows around these vents and in this hot, harsh soil; quite a bit of vegetation. I enjoy a little tour and then get on my way to Thames, the gateway to the Coromandel peninsula where I have decided to spend my last four days in NZ.

My drive up is very pretty. I am chased the whole way by a range of mountains on my right side. I eye it warily for several hours wondering if I will have to cross it. But it stays to my side – God bless it! This is my first non-mountain driving day in NZ.  The North Island has been quite different from the South Island just as everyone said it would be. Not nearly as mountainous and even the mountains don’t seem so rugged. Gently rolling hills more like Appalachian foothills than Midwestern hills dot the countryside. And areas of bizarre hills jut out of flat plains that must be some sort of geological phenomenon. Lots of flat farmland for the cattle and sheep industry is evident also. More people, better roads, a little more civilized I guess, is what it seems to me after two days. So, if you like wild and untamed, start north, head south in New Zealand and you’ll slowly get your wish.

I am aiming for the Firth of Thames. What, you ask is a firth, because I sure had to ask. It is the mouth of a river. And the Thames is a big, old muddy river named by Captain Cook because it reminded him of the one in England. And I’m staying in a cottage overlooking the Firth of Thames. It’s an area sort of like Green Bay in Wisconsin but, on a smaller scale. The Coromandel Peninsula is like Door County and the Firth of Thames is like Green Bay. Thames grew during the gold rush of the late 1800’s and still has wooden buildings on the main street from those days. I drive into the hills above the river as I arrive in town and see quite a few cute old homes mixed in with the new. I see some wooden cottages perched on a hill and figure that is my destination. I drive up a cobbled drive to Grafton (I’m home!) Cottages and go inside and find Leon who I talked to on the phone. He is an Aussie, hippie type partnered to a Kiwi and they just bought the place with their friends several months ago. He is really welcoming and trying really hard. He invites me to go with them to Hot Water beach in two days. Maybe I will!. I had negotiated a lower price on the phone with him as I am a single and it’s mid-week and I’m staying 4 days. He shows me down some winding wood stairs, past a hot tub and another cottage and into mine. It is really cute with a cathedral ceiling, deck and gorgeous views out over the valley and the Thames in the distance. They provide a continental breakfast in my room, a bottle of wine because I’m staying more than3 nights and complimentary homemade cookies. When I came back from dinner I found a plate of fresh strawberries and Kiwis and locally made after dinner liqueur for on my deck. I sit back with my Kindle and pour myself a glass of the NZ Cathedral Cove (a famous place on the peninsula) sauvignon blanc and sip and eat fresh fruit while reading in the early evening sun. Later, after the setting sun has put on a magical show for me, an eyelash moon rises over the Firth and the last remnants of the purple clouds below. I salute the scene with my iced liqueur and drift off to sleep.

Stinky Rotorua

Dec. 6

I awaken and read my first newspapaer in 75 days. The headlines in big, bold ink scream Police Deal with Sunday Violence. I think, what did I miss? Riots? Terrorists? I grab it and read about how the hot weather (mid 70’s) had local police responding to domestic disputes, in particular, two, read that, two different, families fighting over who owned two different litters of puppies. Welcome to the small town newspaper in New Zealand.  So I pack up and head to the stinky town of Rotorua known as such because its air is sulphur rich. Rotorua sits in NZ’s most dynamic thermal area with geysers, steaming hot springs, and exploding mud pools. I am looking forward to the scenery, but more so, the supposedly therapeutic  bathing waters.

As I drive out of Wanganui I see I am driving into mountains again. I sigh, but figure it can’t last for long as there are really only two main strings of mountains on the north Island. So I wind around and feel the pain as I look at the lovely scenery. It’s greener, more lush and forested, less rugged than some of the Southern mountains. Here, on the particularly treacherous mountain roads they put fences; fences just like the snow fences they erect next to the highways in Wisconsin in winter, only the wooden stakes are farther apart. I wonder what they think that will stop. I reach the bottom of a fairly long and difficult road and emerge into a valley. I figure I am finally finished with the NZ mountains. As I round one last curve, a huge, snow covered mountain range rears up in my windshield. And next to it, another green, pointy mountain with a tan top sits in my way.  Now I know how early settlers must have felt climbing one mountain in a horse and wagon, just to find another and another beyond that. A feeling of desperation comes over me; I really don’t want to drive those mountains. Please Mrs Tomtom tell me I’m not going that way. And, luckily, because this island isn’t all mountains, I do get to go around most of these hills and just enjoy them from afar for a change. What a relief!

My trip odometer hit 3,300 miles today!!! That’s all two lane roads except for maybe 20 kilometers of motorway. And about 70% of those two lane roads have been mountain roads. And I did it all by myself! That is why my back hurts, and I doubt this car will ever be the same either. When was the last time you did that? Yes, I am feeling a bit smug.

Did you know you can’t just order black, brewed coffee in NZ? They don’t understand that.  All coffee is espresso or instant or plunger. In a coffee shop it’s only espresso. They have a Tall Black, but it’s espresso.  I tried to ask for coffee with some room for milk and the young man looked at me confused and said “Um, you mean, like, uh, latte?” And I realized where I was and said yes. I can’t wait for plain, brewed coffee.

As I continued driving along with my latte (which does not keep you awake as well as brewed coffee) I again noticed a very beautiful, serene and bucolic country side. Since this is early summer most of the sheep are getting naked. I pass one large, strangely shaped building that I hadn’t seen before and I am wondering what it is for when I see a large man and a really large sheep having a wrestling match on a table. I realized it is a shearing shed and the sheep is having nothing to do with the process. It was quite humorous and I wonder if all the sheep are that cantankerous.

As I approach the area around Rororua I see my first plume of steam rising in the air and I get all excited and want to try and follow it, but there is only a gravel road leading to that area and I’m not allowed down unpaved roads per my rental contract. Like I haven’t already beaten the you-know-what out of this poor car. Between the horrible curves and grades in the mountains, all the new paving I’ve driven over, my little mishaps with the hub caps and sign post, and the fact that it looks like an itinerant lives in it, this car may never be rentable again. Anyway, little do I know there will be many, many plumes of smelly steam in and around Rotorua.  As I get into the town the very distinctive rotten egg smell seeps into the car. What a funny way to live. I guess all the inhabitants are immune to the smell and since it fuels their economy, it’s a good thing.

I make my way to my motel, a five star motel which I managed a good last minute price on because of the time of year. It is a motor lodge again, which I find funny because they are so out of favor in America. But I love them on this trip as I park right outside my door and since I live out of my car, I am constantly going back and forth and it is very convenient. I picked this motel because every room has a spa bath and I really need one for my back. The room is great- big, two beautiful stuffed armchairs, king bed, table with chairs, desk, flat screen TV, kitchenette with all the utensils. The bathroom has heated flooring, big glass shower and a huge, deep three person spa tub. This is the deep kind so I don’t have to bend my back - just like the doctor ordered. I want to live here! And off the bathroom is a small walled courtyard with table and chairs, completely private. When I checked in the owner was there and she gave me a basket of cookies and milk, newspaper and magazines and told me about all the amenities in the complex. It’s just so unlike America. We don’t trust it if it’s not a chain.

I immediately called the spa on the lake for a spa treatment and reservations in their non-children pools. But first I fill my own spa as I won’t be going to the sulphur spa until the evening and my back demands attention now. It’s lovely, deep and relaxing. When it’s time to go to the sulphur spa I just follow my nose. I park in the lot and go around the building to look at the lake. Underneath this water is actually a spent volcano. It is quite eerie. Almost chalk white in most spots with some large, corroded rock outcroppings and steam rising up in areas. I feel as if I have landed on another planet except for the seagulls who manage to find a few spots of open, non-scalding water. I go inside and am directed to changing rooms and then walked to the natural rock spas. These are four pools of shallow sulphur water from the lake that are regulated at 36, 38, 40 and 42 degrees celsius. I start in the coolest. I wade in and lay down. The natural rock and plantings give a grotto feel to the pools and you can see the lake as the spa is right on the shore. There is some stuff floating in the water, but it’s mainly plant material from all the planting. They must have to constantly strain the water and I actually see a man come and do it while I’m bathing. I move from pool to pool, 36 is too cool, 42 is too warm. I finish in 40 with the Japanese men. Doesn’t that sound like a cliché? Well, when I come out of my treatment, the grotto is filled with a bus load of Japanese. They’re in heaven! After my wonderful mud and honey scrub, wrap and head massage overlooking the lake, I return to my wonderful motel and retire for the night.

South Meets North

Dec.5

I hate to leave my beautiful view over Tahunanui Beach. It is wide, sweeping and ever changing with the tides. I watched the sand bar grow and recede each day and move from place to place. The water sparkled in the afternoons with such intensity and the para-sailers bobbed above in the breezes like little balloons let loose. As I drove away along the beachfront a swim race was taking place and people were cheering and following along the on the walkway next to that perfect morning blue sea. I relaxed here. I chiropracted, homepathed, therapueted, mineral and sea salt bathed my bad back. I also climbed big hills and walked in choppy sand, but it was worth it. I skipped a lot of things I should have seen and I’m trying not to feel guilty about that, because I enjoyed watching the world go by from my perch in the penthouse. Sometimes it’s okay to just sit back and watch.

And not 15 minutes from Nelson I had to start climbing those mountain roads again. All I could think about was –OW!  How many mountains between here and Picton and the ferry that takes me to the North Island where they only have a few mountains? Lots, but I also got to go through  fertile valleys of vineyards and fruits of all sort: cherries, apricots, berries, avocados. Bountiful! And on into Picton I drove. I forgot to mention the other day I did a perfect parallel parking job on the left hand side of the street on my first try. Perfect. So today when I drove to the absolutely picturesque little waterfront in Picton and saw a simple spot to just back into, I thought, piece of cake. Until I scraped the side of the post I didn’t see. Yep --at least a foot long, paint and all, off the side of the car and right in front of everyone enjoying the views of Picton!  At least it’s on the same side of the car I ripped off both of the hubcaps. The worst part is I didn’t really get upset. I’m so relieved I haven’t had a flat tire or break down on some lonely mountain road, a few minor repairs don’t seem to faze or embarrass me.( This does not go for any of my kids in my family cars!) So then I figured I better just go get in line for the ferry; which is pretty much getting in line and waiting in your car for an hour, then slowly driving on to the really skinny ramp into the large, dark cavern where you just leave your car for three hours. I almost rear ended a car on the way in—I’m going for the trifecta!

The ferry itself, Kaitaki, the largest in NZ, has everything: a café, a food court, a bar, a theater, family lounge, several large areas with reclining seats, souvenir shop, info booth, playground and lookout areas. I staked out a reclining seat next to a window and then bought a sandwich to eat on the way out of port through queen Charlotte Sound. The route is gorgeous and hard to believe the ship could turn at some points. This area is all sounds so it is speckled with islands and fingers going out into the Cook Strait between the two islands. The ship had to make some tight turns and at times it looked like we were going straight into cliffs and then we would make quite a tight turn for a big, heavy ship. The trip past the rocky points, heads and islands was beautiful and worth the ferry ride alone. After we hit open water I went to try and nap. Unfortunately it was freezing in the recliner area and after an hour I gave up. In the family area I could hear singing so I went to investigate. A group of Maori’s was sitting around and one had a guitar and another had a uke and they were singing folk songs. At first it was just a few of them, but it got going and they started singing more songs in their native Maori language, which is very pretty and seems sort of Polynesian to us. One man got up and did a certain dance and then a woman got up and did an answering dance. They all laughed at each other and clapped. Then a bunch of the women and girls got up and started dancing with hand and arm movements that all coordinated. It was beautiful and fun. Then the Maori men, old and young, joined in. Many people had their cameras out and were filming. We all clapped and no one wanted it to stop, but we were in Wellington. What a treat to witness, and how special to be a part of a culture that has held on to so many traditions they were so proud to possess.

So off I drive off into Wellington my biggest town so far. No idea where I’m going (they just dump you off in some back port somewhere) until Mrs. Tomtom finds a satellite. Then I am on a real, expressway, only they call it a motorway and it only lasts about 10 minutes, but that was kind of neat being all backwards on an expressway. And once I’m out of town I’m driving along the coast again with cliffs on one side and the sea on the other. As I round a big bend I come smack dab against Bali Hai. I look out to sea and across several ribbons of slightly differing shades of blue green ocean, through a mist and beneath a few, frothy clouds I see a mountainous island and in my mind I hear the sound track from South Pacific and Bloody Mary singing Bali Hai.  It’s right here, right now. Unbelievable.  I pull over because I have to have a photo even though it will never show what I saw.

I push on knowing I have to make it a couple more hours to get to my hotel. I have a funny little place booked tonight and it will be interesting to see how it turns out. It’s a brand new motor inn that sounds like it’s trying to be modern and funky. Hopefully better than the Bates motel. The rest of my ride settles to inland and pastoral. I’ve never used that word before, but I think it’s a good word for the landscape. Lots of rolling hills, sheep, cattle. I pass a very sad field of sheep. They are naked. Sheep are not cute when shorn. Their skin is sort of pinky, grey and wrinkled and they look embarrassed. They should be kept indoors until a little peach fuzz is happening. Then, I am ashamed to admit, I have McDonalds for dinner. I have to go to the bathroom, my gas tank is full, it is the only place to stop, it is 5:45, and I don’t know what would be available at 8:00 in the town I will sleep in –ok? Tastes the same.

I finally arrive at my little motor inn. The interesting thing about NZ is it’s a small country, about the size of Japan or Colorado, so there are not lots of big hotel or motel chains. Every place is usually locally owned and run by the owners and often they are on site. Tonight the owner takes me to my room. Every room in NZ always has coffee and tea set-up and they always give you milk for your coffee when you check in. And all the coffee is what they call ‘plunger coffee’, which is what we call French press. Or you can have instant coffee too.This inn also left me cookies and mints and a newspaper in the morning. It was very compact, but also very modern, well thought out and attention paid to all the details. They also offered to deliver breakfast for a fee. In all, it was a very pleasant surprise. I had survived the ferry ride and my move the North Island. Tomorrow, stinky Rotorua.

Abel Tasman and Back

Dec.2

I couldn’t take a step without extreme pain in my back and leg this morning. I couldn’t possibly hike or tour or even drive far. The driving has just been too much on my back I guess. I had to find a chiropractor. I asked Neville where the nearest ones were and I picked a woman who seemed, from the Yellow Page ad, to be like mine back home. When I get there and was shown into her office I saw an adjusting table that looked just like the one my chiropractor uses. Amazing.  I’ve been to three different chiropractors in Milwaukee and they all have different techniques. But the one I found here happens to have the same technique as the one I use back home. God is watching over me! She checked me out and basically my spine was locked from the neck to the base, my pelvis was locked up and my knees and ankles too. The scrunching and leaning forward and driving those mountain roads had completely locked up my entire body, along with the help of my arthritis. She spent a good amount of time unlocking as much as she could and I made an appointment to come back tomorrow. I still hurt, but at least every step is no longer jarring.

On my way home I decide to drive by the beach. I find a small road that leads to a parking path on the beach. This sandy beach goes all around a huge bay for miles with mountains in the background. I decide to get out and walk in the sand even though I planned to take it very easy today. It is just so beautiful and the sun is shining and people are out walking their dogs. I walk down to the water’s edge and immediately take off my sandals and start wading. It’s warm!  I can’t believe how nice the water is. I stroll for about five minutes one way and then turn around. The people with their dogs are letting them run without leashes. The dogs are having a wonderful time. Most of them are chasing balls and sticks into the water and splashing and going wild with excitement. They meet another dog and do the doggie meet and greet and then take off like cannons chasing each other. I stand and just watch the dogs for awhile.  As I’m sitting drying my feet one of the owners comes and sits and remarks on the beautiful day. We strike up a conversation. Turns out he’s a carnie and saved his dog from the pound, (a beautiful well behaved dog I had fun watching) and she loves riding around the country with him as he moves from town to town, and this is one of the few beaches they allow dog unleashed. This is very typical of all New Zealanders -- friendly and nice and always willing to strike up a conversation.

 I spend the rest of the day on my patio watching the world go by, reading and writing and researching the North Island of NZ. I see the para- surfers go surfing on the bay while the sun is sparkling all around their boards and gaily colored kites that pull them through the water. In the evening I finish my bottle of champagne and watch the sunset and the children’s teams playing soccer in a nearby field.

Dec. 3

I awaken to more back pain and limp to the chiropractor. She says I’m better than yesterday and loosens up even more joints. She loads me up with some natural anti-imflamatories and says she wishes she could keep working in me. I do too, but I leave on Sunday.

I get in my car and head for Abel Tasman Park. Pain or no pain, I’m going to see this famous park. It might only be from my car, but at least I’ll have said I have seen it. I hope the drive isn’t too curvy so it doesn’t undo what the chiropractor just did. Most of the way is pretty easy even though Mrs. Tomtom needs an upgrade on her maps; she didn’t know about the new highway in one area and really wanted me to turn around for about 5 miles. And, I actually got to go on a divided highway for 5.3 kilometers. It wasn’t a real expressway, but it was divided so I felt like I was back in America albeit on the wrong side of the road and the slow lane is the left lane. Weird. And it’s cherry season! I drove through orchard country and the cherries are ripe and for sale. Acres of trees are covered over with netting to protect the fruit from the birds. I stopped and tried one and they were great. $10 a kilo: pretty costly, but exciting.

I was heading for the town of Kaiteriteri, (I can’t pronounce any place I’ve been to or am going to) to take a sea shuttle into Abel Tasman. The park itself is accessed by water, air and road, but is easiest from where I am by water. It is the busiest tramping track in the summer, probably because it is the most accessible to both islands and large cities. Many people will kayak the park, or sail or motor themselves because so much is accessible by water. It has crazy tides with up to 6m difference between low and high tide which has a huge impact on walkers. After driving the last 5 miles of a really winding road (ow!) into Kaiteriteri , I head to one of the shuttle stands and ask about easy walking tours and they show me where they can drop me off and I could just sit on a beach or I could walk an easy track. I decide to go - I got this far. In for a penny, in for a pound.

I head to my car to get my provisions: hat, walking shoes and stick, insect spray, sun block, rain gear, water, nut bar, cell phone and bag. Enough stuff for a week, not three hours. Then back to the beach where I meet the boat. They have a really nifty catamaran that has an electric ramp that unfolds onto the beach so they just drive up to shore, hit a button and the ramp unfolds. You never have to get your feet wet. We take off into gorgeous turquoise blue water on a sunny 70 degree day. The park unfolds to our left with great cliffs, rock formations and tropical forests, and eventually is on all sides of the boat. I am awed by the immensity and the beauty and the fact that there really is no flat land to walk on. Hmmmm.The boat will take me to any of six stops and will also pick up trampers and campers, so some people have lots of gear as they are going out camping and some long haul campers will get picked up on this trip. My stop is the second landing and I am the only one dropped off there. It is a huge cove with a semi-circle of golden sand backed by waving grass and palm trees and cliffs rising behind it. It’s right out of all the photos you see of south Pacific island paradises. As I go down the ramp the guide tells me where the easy walk is, where to be for pick up, and what time they will come back. I’m not too concerned. There are several other boats in the cove, people and a ranger station here too. I am not at the end of nowhere.

As I stumble through the thick sand I note that it looks like pretty y low tide right now. I look at my map and notice that there is another, more difficult walk, which can only be done at low tide, but you get to cross a inlet marsh or mud flat. That sounds really cool to me as I’ve never crossed a low tide pool before. So I go the opposite way I’m supposed to go and hope it’s not too difficult. As soon as I get off the beach the wind dies down which is nice as it was a little wild and cool. I find myself crossing a small bridge into a sunny, quiet and lush jungle. Beautiful. Then I turn right and the path leads straight up a steep hill. Well, I think, I’ll see what happens to my back and turn around if things get bad. I gasp my way up and am really grateful I brought my stick. At the top there is one of those incredible views through the palms of the beach and the ridiculously blue ocean. It’s indescribable and that alone was worth the climb and the whole boat fee and trip. As I tear myself away from this view I see the path now goes perilously downward; this is even harder than going up as it kills my knee. But I see the tidal area beyond so I figure I may as well try. The stick prevent a full out fall and I make it to the bottom which is actually stairs it gets so steep. Once there I find a backpacking couple and the young woman looks very wearily at me and asks how steep it is. I tell her it is very, very steep, but goes down after that. I ask how long they’ve been backpacking and she says this is their second day, but the backpack is much heavier today. I don’t envy them.

I walk out on to the sloppy sand and am awed by its size and see why trampers want to take this shortcut. It cuts out about one and half to two hours if you can get here when the tide is out. This area must be about 20 acres. It is mainly sand with a few rock formations jutting up and some grass near the edges. When the tide is up it fills with water. At that moment there were just a few skinny, shallow streams flowing toward the sea. Quite a few hikers are crossing the area plus a large school group from Germany. I move to where few people are and start looking in the sand. I notice all sorts of little holes and tiny movements. I stand still. They are tiny sand crabs that climb out of their holes when no one is around. I see thousands of them because they glisten in the sun when they sneak out all wet from the sea water. I have always loved sand crabs and now I’m surrounded by them. I start trying to catch them. I stop one from going back in his hole and another one jumps out of his hole and grabs him and holds him. Suddenly the grabber pulls the other one into his hole and they both vanish. Oops, they might be cannibalistic. I keep walking around playing and having a great time. I notice all the other people are very intent on getting across this huge inlet. So intent they are missing this spectacle of the crabs. No one is seeing this. Once again people have a future goal in mind and are missing the moment. They are not present to what is happening right under their feet and I feel sorry for them.  Now I know the tide will rise and the real trampers need the get over the inlet, but many of these people are short hikers like me and really don’t have to cross the inlet at any special time. So why not enjoy it? And guess who I find are the only other people enjoying it? Along comes a couple with a little 2 year old boy. He is having as much fun as I am and his mother taught him how to pick up the crabs, so the two of us find all sorts of them hiding under logs in the streams.  We all stop and talk because the mother noticed my shoes and asks about them. She then notices I have really bad arthritis –very observant woman- and says they have something in NZ everyone takes and I should ask at the pharmacy.  Her husband shows me the baby flounder in the little streams. I couldn’t find them for the life of me, but he kept showing them to me. Very cool! They then gave me advice on where I should go on the North Island and that really helped me decide what to do with my limited time there. They move on to find lunch and I play a little longer. What a nice encounter.

Eventually I know I have to face the big hill so I tramp through the squishy sand and start up. My stick is my faithful companion and pulls me to the top where the view is still phenomenal. I get back to the beach and hike to the ranger station where there is a toilet. Nothing interesting there –sorry. Back on the beach I lay out my rain jacket, sit and drink water and eat my nut bar. Thus refreshed I don my hat and lay down to await the boat. After a 25 minute nap the boat arrives and its back to my car and back to my penthouse. I then clean up and walk down the street to the German restaurant I scoped out the other night. It is early and I am the only patron. I order a wheat beer, crispy schnitzel and spaetzle. I’m starved after only the nut bar so I eat most of the quite good meal and all the beer and walk back home. Then it’s therapeutic bath time and off to bed.

A Whale of a Tail

Nov. 30

I spent most of my morning on the internet trying to find a place to stay for my next four days on the South Island. Because my back is bothering me so much I have decided to try and stay in one place and move around during the day or just rest if that’s what feels best. After several tries at places that were booked I call back one place and they lowered the price for me. It seems I will have the penthouse apartment on the beach in Nelson for the same price I paid for my little cottage in Punakaiki. That’s cool!

I then took a drive around Kaikoura to get a feel for the peninsulas and town. It really is quite spectacular with mountains falling right to the sea and this beautiful peninsula jutting greenly out into tremendously turquoise water. The town itself is rather quant with the normal amount of restaurants, souvenir and what-not shops. The B&B owners where I’m staying have had a gallery here for years and have closed it recently to remodel and re-open as a café and gallery. The owner, Judy, is very excited to be back in the restaurant business after being out of it for about 10 years. She’s crazy. J An older part of town along the waterfront has all the little,old style motels that were great fun to drive past and wonder how they stay in business. And here and there a brand new, modern house or motel was tucked between really old ones. I continued driving out of town on the shore road and almost turned around when I came to a BBQ trailer at the end of the island. It was set up on the side of the road with a couple tables next to it and further on was another similar, but competitive trailer. I then remembered reading about these trailers and how famous they were for fresh catch and ‘open box’ meals meaning you could walk up, they open the cooler up, and you pick what you wanted out of the box and they  fixed it for lunch. So I pulled over. The trailers and inside kitchens were absolutely spotless.  So I ordered crayfish fritters. I went and asked a young German couple if they minded if I sat with them and they were very gracious. We had a lovely time talking and eating. My fritters were excellent; perfectly cooked and crunchy and the crab meat was fresh and sweet.  We exchanged ideas on what to see and do because we were going in opposite directions. The young man kept saying I could go see the “wineyards” because he couldn’t pronounce the v-sound. Other than that, they spoke great English.

After lunch I took a drive out to the country to find a lavender farm and factory. It was set in the fields behind the town and wasn’t in production as it is spring, but the bushes were all growing and a few were starting to bloom. Very picturesque. The gift shop was open and they make most of the products they sell, so of course I had to buy a few little things. Then it was time to get back for my whale watching cruise. After being warned several times before we left port about rough seas, we got under way where they again told us what to do in the event of sea sickness. At that point I was ready to throw up. The boat really did rock a lot and we weren’t allowed out of our seats until we got to where the whale sighting occurs. Once there, we stood around outside and watched. And watched. They have a crew member who goes up top and is the designated spotter. In the meantime we all stood in different spots on the boat looking and freezing.  A couple dolphins were nice enough to come along and cavort for a long time beside and in front of the boat, swimming and jumping around. An albatross was in the water and a certain group of puffins that only nest in this area were flying all over. If we didn’t see a whale 80% of our money would get refunded, so after awhile we started hoping not to see one. Then, as I’m talking away to a lady from Florida I casually said ‘There it is.” as I had seen a spouting off in the distance. And I then waved frantically to the captain to show her where to move the boat. Yep, I spotted it first, again. It was a huge Sperm whale coming up to re-oxygenate for another dive. These are the largest toothed creatures on earth and the deepest divers, going down hundreds of meters and staying down up to two and a quarter hours. The Maori guide told us this one was about 15 meters long, almost equal to the size of our boat. We could only see about two thirds of it, because the tail hangs down as they sit there breathing. I took a bunch of pictures of nothing as the boat was pitching so much I would focus, snap, and the boat would roll and I would have a photo of grey water. I did manage to get a few of the whale and the guide knew exactly when it was going to dive so he had us prepare our cameras for the big tail flip in the air. I caught a decent shot of that. But once again, if you get caught up in the camera work, you miss the joy of actually being there to see this magnificent creature doing his thing and flipping his tail and disappearing into the depths. Wow! On the way back we stopped at a seal colony, but I was so cold I didn’t leave the inside of the boat, I could see just fine from my window seat. I just wanted to get back to my car and turn on the heater.

Back on land I drove with my heater going full blast to a take-out shop as I was too tired for a lengthy restaurant meal. They have all sorts of these all over NZ, big signs saying Take-Away. I don’t know if it’s relatively new or if it’s just a big deal here. But I order fish and chips because they really do use fresh fish and have a great, light batter every place I’ve tried. They wrap it up in several layers of newspaper and you have to be really careful when you un-wrap it, or it falls all over the place. First time I did it, everything spewed all over. They don’t warn you, it’s one of those things you learn the hard way.  I will eat this in my little kitchenette overlooking the bay. Yummy.

Dec. 1

Happy Birthday to my Dad! He would be 90 years old today if he were still alive. May he be in heaven with all the angels and saints and telling them to put in a good word for me with the Big Guy!

I left Kaikora today to drive to Nelson. And yes, I did have to go over more mountains, and no, there is not a main road in NZ that is not being resurfaced. My car is absolutely filthy and full of little pieces of gravel, or grit as they say. I’m not washing it. It’s a rental and it stays outside all night. It’s filled with crap in the back seat (hat, walking stick, two rain jackets, a light jacket, a heavy jacket, a fleece, back brace, knee brace, bag of sunscreen, sun block, food bag, medicine bag, extra shoes, suitcase, etc) and looks like an itinerant lives in it, and I have managed to fill the whole four door Toyota Corolla sedan, front, back and trunk myself. I have no idea how I am going to get this stuff home. No idea!

I think I finally figured out a road sign that has been puzzling me since I got here. It’s a round blue sign with a red X in the middle. I see it on mountain roads, in the city, back roads, everywhere. It means No Parking. That should be obvious, but on a curvy mountain road, who would think of parking? They also have this warning sign that is a big exclamation mark. That’s it, just a big, rounded exclamation mark like you would see on a cartoon. It means ‘look out’ or ‘pay attention’ or something like that. I keep thinking Roger Rabbit is going to pop out. Another sign reads ’Ford Ahead’ and I’m thinking, what kind, Taurus, Explorer? But it means the road may be flooded and you may have to ford the road. Oh.  The best was when I was driving a coast road and there was a big yellow sign with a picture of a seal on it and below that it said ‘Next 4 kilometers’. And I’m thinking, do I look at the seals in the water or are they actually coming on the road? Do they really climb on to the road and get hit, like our deer? I was petrified I would kill a seal. I’m sure they are a protected species. And they were right off the road in a huge colony for several kilometers, so I still have no idea if the warning was for wandering seals or for me to stop and look at them. So I stopped.  And they were mating and fighting. Very interesting, and none were in the road.

I did start talking to myself the last few days of driving. First I started singing. Amazingly enough, even with with all the high speed, ridiculously dangerous mountain driving I still get drowsy. So I tried the radio and got nothing. Then I brought cheap CD’s which are really bad. I sing along to Dean Martin and am learning the words to really old songs I’ve never heard before. But that still gets me tired, so then I tried singing songs I don’t remember the words to; which is pretty much all the songs I know. Two things happen then, if I don’t try very hard my subconscious brings the words back. Pretty cool. If that doesn’t work, I make them up. Both of these methods help to keep me awake. But the best was when I started talking to myself with a NZ accent. I love copying accents and NZ’s is very distinct. I didn’t even realize I was talking out loud until I shouted some silly word they use at another car. And then off I went on a rant with a NZ accent.  That was fun, so now I do it whenever I can. And I practice other accents too. But I still don’t understand most of what they say even after being here two and a half weeks. In the pool at the hot springs two little boys got in the same pool I was in and were having a conversation. I couldn’t pick out one word they were saying. They may as well have been speaking Russian. I was really trying and I honestly never caught one English word. It’s embarrassing still having to ask people to repeat what they’ve said, several times. Speaking of embarrassing, they sell these meat pies in all the stores and bakeries here as a kind of take-away food. Well, I’ve now tried several kinds in different area and they are all awful. That’s embarrassing as a nation. The crust is ok, but the filling is like bad pot roast. And they are messy. But I guess every country has to have something embarrassing, we have chitlins.

On my drive from Kaikoura I passed through the Marborough region which is famous for NZ wine growing and making. This is the one time I have to say it was not fun being alone. The drinking and driving laws are strict here and I had no designated driver. And besides, tasting wine alone is no fun. Part of the romance of tasting wine is discussing it with the person you are with. So I soaked in the scenery and vines and promised to come back someday.

I made it Nelson by early afternoon. Nelson is on the top of the South Island and has a population of about 43,000. It has beautiful beaches and more sunshine hours than anywhere else in the country. It is the gateway to Abel Tasman, Nelson Lakes and Kahurangi National Parks. From here I can go all the way to Farewell Spit which is the longest (35 kilometers) natural sandbar in the world, and the end of South Island. But first I had to check out my penthouse.

After driving along the coast road into Nelson I recognize my apartment complex from internet photos. I find Neville, the manager, and he takes me to the fourth floor. I have a large, 3 bedroom apartment with a deluxe kitchen much nicer than my one at home, two plasma TVs, and a glassed wrap around deck the size of the apartment itself. I have about 270 degree views of the Bay, mountains and hills. There are no outside walls in the apartment, just massive window and doors all of which can be opened onto the deck to catch the sea breezes. Just gorgeous. I settle in then walk across the street to the grocery store, liquor store for champagne and drug store for nail polish and cold pack for my back – all the essentials. Then I sit outside on the deck drinking champagne, eating goat cheese and cheese muffins with apples, and then I take a special bath for my back and drift off to bed.

From Sea to Shining Sea

Nov. 29

That’s it! I’ve had it with driving over mountains. I went from sea to sea today and there was nothing but mountain range after mountain range in my way. I really did not want to leave the wild, rocky, beautiful western Tasman Sea coastline. As I drove south with the huge waves rolling in along the roadside I just felt a tugging on my heart to stay there. But I committed to a B&B on the other side of NZ with a view of the other ocean and I already lost a day. I thought yesterday was Saturday. I really messed up. I couldn’t get internet or info on mass, (I was in the middle of nowhere) but figured I could get it the next day, Sunday. Then I’m watching TV last night and they keep telling me I’m watching the Sunday Night Movie. Finally, it sinks in and I go to my computer and check and it really is Sunday! I have no idea how I did that. I even changed my ferry ticket for the wrong day. I am really mixed up.

But I made it to the other sea. I am writing this from a window overlooking the snowcapped mountains towering over Kaikoura and the South Pacific Ocean below them. Kaikoura means crayfish food and that is one of the delicacies here- very large crayfish. It is also a world famous feeding ground for the giant Sperm Whale. So if I get over mountain driving exhaustion, I may go on a whale watching cruise. This is a spectacular peninsula that enjoys sunshine and activities from the sea to the top of the mountain. So, I’m not sure what I’m up for. The drive in was spectacular along the coast; another breathtaking drive at breakneck speeds along rocks reaching into the ocean and long, arching waves crashing on shores as I tried to drive and not look.  And there was suddenly a rock tunnel in front of my car, a tunnel maybe a foot wider than my car, and I had no idea if this was another one of those one lane jobbers you take turns with I’ve had every half hour for the last six days, or if I should just go through while I’m doing 80kph. So I go through.  And all I see from the dim light on the other side is a big arrow pointing straight left. So I go zooming through and screeching left and on down the road at 80. I can do the Grand Prix now! Don’t’ these people ever just take a leisurely drive on a straight road? I’m dying here.

Anyway, my drive here was over a mountain range, drive a bit through a valley, get to the next range, go over that one, drive a bit through a valley, get to the next range, go over…………………. I mean, the views were stunning, more saffron studded mountains, more snowcapped mountains, more gorgeous flowering trees and bushes. But I’m bushed. My steering wheel has permanent indentations from my clenched fingers. My shoulders are permanently scrunched and my right leg is twitching from overuse. It’s like The Great Race. Let’s see how fast we can take the curve with no guardrails. No fear with these Kiwis, it’s another form of population control. Even the school busses take these little mountain roads at ridiculous speeds. Of course, Mrs. Tomtom reprogrammed to shortest not fastest route today, so I got some real back roads over the mountains. And they are re-gritting, as they say, all the roads. That’s recoating the asphalt. That’s fun too at 100kph on the curves in the mountains; a little oil, a little loose stone --doesn’t seem to slow down the locals. And as I look around I realize there is no way out of this peninsula except over the mountains. Oh, to have a back-up driver.

I did get to stop along the way at Hamner Springs Thermal Resort. My back has been so bad and the detour off my course looked pretty short so I went for a look. This spot has been touted in a lot of the tour books and after having stopped I’m really glad I didn’t plan a stay or drive out of my way to get here.  It is a small town and resorts built around some hot springs Europeans discovered had recuperative powers in the 1800’s. I paid my entry fee and rented a towel and stayed about an hour and a half. I used all the mineral pools. They ranged in temperature from 35 degrees Celsius to 41. So I really have no idea how hot they were except, on a warm sunny day, I stayed in the shade and the hot pool was really hot. It was also a sulfur pool so it was stinky. But I believe my “taking to the waters” has helped in some way. And I’m certainly glad I had the experience.

Now I am going to sit back, have a beer, enjoy the view, and expunge that drive from my memory banks.

Kiwi Sea

Nov. 28

Found my phone! It had slid next to the passenger seat.Phew! 

I had a nice breakfast overlooking a somewhat gray and brooding ocean. A slight mist is in the air with an overcast sky, but nothing to keep me indoors. I drive to the nearby visitor center and pick up a map of trails nearby and decide to do a short beach trail as the lady said she thought it was the best around. I liked ‘short’ and figured maybe ‘easy’ would be true. Well this time ‘easy’ was pretty true and it only took about 15 minutes of walking through beautiful rainforest to get to the cliffs above the ocean.  Sensational views of all kinds of rock formations and a lovely beach to climb down to. And I did go down to the beach. The sand was really a very fine pebble sand, not quite sugary, but definitely sand. This entire coast is considered too dangerous to swim, so you go to the beach to look, not touch here. I spent a good amount of time down on the beach just enjoying the pounding of the surf and found a beautiful shell and one perfectly smooth rock to bring home. I then climbed back up to the headland and sat on a bench for awhile watching birds and rolling waves and crashing spray.  I could also see the clouds pass right beside me and go over to the mainland behind the trail. I finally decided to leave as I was beginning to become so mesmerized by the waves I felt it was time for a nap. I stopped at the little café open during the day and bought some vegetable quiche and a cookie. I ate that looking out over the ocean form my dining room then took a nice nap.

After nap time and writing a bit, it was time for high tide which was my appointment out at Pancake Rocks and Blowholes. This coastline is famous for the incredible rock formations all up and down the coast, but in this particular area the rocks sedimented over time in such a way as to look like stacks of pancakes everywhere. There are also lots of caverns, caves and canyons the water rushes into at high tide which forces the back flowing water into upper holes and fissure in the rocks where it literally blows out like a whale or small geysers. High tide is when it is most active, so I have saved my visit here for now.

As I walk the path toward the rocks I realize I really am on an ‘easy’ path – it’s paved. That’s how popular this site is. I walk through a jungle of palm trees, ferns and jute plants for about 8 minutes. I then hear the sound of what I think is an airplane or jet going over, but see nothing in the sky. I realize I am close to the rocks and I must be hearing the surf. I emerge into the open and see the first formations of rocks. They really are pancaked on top of each other and they are all over the place and climb hundreds of feet above the waterline. Directly in front of me is a huge, box shape cavern that the water is flowing in and out of with the tide. As it is high tide the flow keeps backing up on itself and crashing into the walls with the huge booms I thought were airplanes. Next to a bridge over part of this cavern is a blowhole and every time a really big wave comes in water shoots out of this hole like a geyser. Sometimes it looks just like steam, and other times it looks like water gushing up. Several different areas have blowholes, but this spot is the most sensational and often catches people by surprise. You actually have to cover your camera lens the mist and spray carries so high. My lips were salty from being there a half hour. The walkway takes me around a very large area where all these rock and pancake formations can be viewed just rising out of the ocean in all sorts of whimsical shapes. The shapes help to make the caverns and blowholes. I am amused watching all the other sightseers. I realize many people just come to an attraction to take a photo, to say “look where I’ve been”, and then move on to the next item on their list. As I spent time this morning at the beach, I also spent quite a bit of time watching the waves in the cavern and the little caves they rushed into, and how high the spray would go. It was fascinating; every wave different, every crash a different height. I easily could have spent an hour or two there. But the people next to me changed spots every minute or two, never longer than that. Even the camera nuts with tripods, when they thought they had the perfect photo, off they ran. One guy never even took off his ear buds, he just listened to his iPod. Half the fun is listening to the crashing surf. It seems we no longer know how to enjoy the moment, see what is happening right in front of us instead of using a gizmo to record it and show it sometime in the future as something we did in the past. Again, a gizmo getting in the way of actually seeing what is in front of us, be-ing in the present. I have often had to stop myself from taking a photo so I could just enjoy the moment. Well, today I enjoyed the moments. The sea has a way of reminding us we are not in charge. Something bigger, stronger and older is at work in nature. But we need to be quiet to hear His voice.

Up, Up and Away!

Nov 27

The alarm jolts me awake at 5:30 and I stumble to the window. The night at the Bate Motel was fitful; thin walls, car lights coming in the windows, scratchy sheet – I’ve become spoiled. The outside world is cloaked in fog and clouds. Yes! No point in walking to the lake as there would be no sunrise reflection. But that also means the helicopters may not go up. So I go back to bed for a couple hours as there is nothing that can be done yet. When I finally arise and get ready to check out it is still overcast and I am not hearing any helicopters flying. There are about 4 companies that operate right here and yesterday I could hear them constantly coming and going. This is not a good sign. I am pretty resigned to leaving town with no helicopter ride. I drive out to the lake to see if it is any better, but it is also socked in, although sun is obvious above the lower clouds. I turn back towards town and it is as if a miracle has occurred and Moses has parted the clouds. Sun is streaming over Fox Glacier and the clouds have moved toward the sea. I drive to the helicopter office and walk in and ask if we’re good to go and he says “yep!”

The advantage of being the loner here is that with two couples being the other passengers, I am the obvious choice for the front seat. Shotgun! I have the coveted front seat with a view below my feet and on both sides. It is wonderful. Once again I can’t believe how easy it is to take off and how quickly we are flying up toward the mountains. From this perspective we get an appreciation of the size of these glaciers. Fox is 14 kilometers long and Franz Josef is 10 kilometers long. No wonder the people in front of the glacier looked so tiny yesterday -- it is massive!  And since I can’t see the rotors I don’t think we are going to die every few minutes, though I was going to tell him he was getting a little too close to the mountainside, especially over the rocky peak.  Over that peak we arrive at Franz Josef and the pilot finds a landing spot and we all get out. What a riot! It’s warm and sunny and we are walking in snow and sinking every few steps and taking pictures of each other. The one couple from Australia is kind of elderly and had a little trouble getting around, but just loved doing it. The snow has a blue tinge to it I think because it is mostly ice and the sun is shining down into it. Very beautiful. We then flew back down over the length of the Franz Josef glacier and back to the landing pad. What a lucky lady I am!

Then it was on to Westland and west coast driving and my target of Punakaiki and Pancake rocks and Blowholes on the edge of Paparoa National Park. Along the way I will go through Greymouth the site of the mining disaster. This is foremost in the minds of all New Zealanders right now and a tremendous tragedy. Once again my prayers today will be for all of them. The drive is spectacular. It always is. As a matter of fact, I find myself, at least 5-10 times a day, rounding a corner or cresting a hill, suddenly blurting out loud, “Holy Crap!” The scenery is so unbelievable and so changing and surprising I can’t help but blurt out similar words. It just catches me and then I stop and take a whole bunch of photos that I later have no idea where they’re from and don’t look nearly as cool as the real thing. Thank God they are all digital. I can’t believe I haven’t gotten in an accident pulling over to take pictures. I did stop in the middle of one of the one lane bridges to take one and noticed I was holding up a line of cars. Oops! And I did drive over a really big rock. Bigger oops!

I stopped in Greymouth to gas up and buy groceries as Punakaiki is too small to have either. I arrive at my destination which is called Hydrangeas cottages which I originally picked for its location and the fact they have a horse stable and take ride into the mountains and along the beach. Unfortunately my back is so bad I don’t think I can ride. These cottages are built into the cliffs above the ocean with all natural materials and are across and just down the highway from Pancake Rocks. I have a kitchen, living room and bedroom with a deck overlooking the ocean. Even though I am above the highway I can’t see it, but I can see and hear the ocean. Lovely. I have bought a bottle of NZ champagnes for this stay. I love champagne and I am determined to have some NZ stuff so I took a chance on one I found in Greymouth.

I settle in then decide to take a nap as I am just exhausted. The sun is shining into my bedroom, the surf is lulling me through the open windows and I rest. The driving gets to be tiring. All two lane roads, all winding, all two handed, steering-wheel –clenching driving by myself gets wearing. When my first hosts suggested I buy a GPS I thought they were crazy. I’m a great map reader and never have trouble following signs. What they didn’t tell me, is there are no signs in NZ. Really. I can go for an hour on the highway I just drove and find one, tiny little marker with the number 6 on it. That’s it. And in towns a street might have three different shaped and colored signs on it for three different things. Or none at all. And the same road may change names three times in the course of a mile or two.  I get to a rotary and hope and pray a sign is pointing to the town I want to go to or there might be a highway sign. I’ve only been on one freeway for about two miles in Christchurch and I’ve driven about 1900 Kilometers now. So even though Mrs. Tomtom sometimes starts directing me to an old location, she really has saved me from the land of no signs.

After my nap I drive to the one of only two places for dinner, the Punakaiki Tavern. The resort nearby has not gotten good reviews. I have a nice meal of prawn twists and a local beer and read the newspaper which is pretty much all about the mining disaster. Then it’s back home to open my champagne and sit on the deck overlooking the Tasman Sea. I open a Te Hana Reserve Cuvee made with chardonnay and pinot noire grapes that I bought for $20NZ. It is quite nice. Not too dry, fruity and crisp and I really like it. I would buy it again. I also walk around the grounds of the cottages and admire all the plantings and especially the hydrangeas. There are so many species of plants and flowers here it is, well, like another world. After watching some weird movie in subtitles about Muslim Jihad that I thought was the only channel on TV, I realize how to get one of the three remote controls working and finally find something in English. As I ready myself for bed I realize I left my cell phone in the car. The car is down some outside stairs, then down a ramp and across a small lot, all in the pitch dark. I weigh sleeping without a phone versus going out in the dark. Hmmmm. I decide to go. I find my tiny flashlight and start out. Ferns and palms grab at my hair and I remember the spider web I avoided n the light. Where is it now? I cross the lot, beep the car open and cannot find the cell. Did I lose my one lifeline to the world? I give up looking as I can’t stand being out in the dark any more. I follow the faint light back up the ramp and stairs sure I am being followed by a, I don’t know what, as NZ has no scary animals or bugs or snakes, by a bad human being then. It’s dark. You know how it is! And when I turn off the lights, it’s really dark, but I sleep well.

New Zealand Road Signs

Nov. 26

You know those roads you see that snake up the side of a mountain and you wonder who or what kind of vehicle ever goes on those roads?  I do. Mrs. Tomtom sent me up one today. It was supposedly the quickest way to where I was going and I didn’t realize I had gone off the main highway until it was too late. This road actually had guard rails! It also had a gate closing it in winter, chain bays for pulling over and putting chains on your tires,’ Rocks Falling’ signs everywhere, and the one really confusing sign “Take Extra Care Accident Black Spot”. I still am not sure what I was supposed to be looking for!?! Oh, and after twisting and turning for miles, I would see a yellow sign with a black twisting arrow, like something new was coming up ahead? There were also yellow warning signs with a big black exclamation mark and the words underneath saying “Cattle Stops”. Is that like, a rest stop for cattle? No idea what those meant either?  It was a grueling, terrifying, breathtaking ride that I’m sure a passenger might have enjoyed. For me it was an endurance test only superseded   by my fear the rental car could not handle all the turns and steep grades. I really wished I had my Camaro. But I followed the crazy road through brown, tussock covered mountains for the first hour and eventually came down through a narrow passage into a lush valley. This valley lead to more mountains that became verdant and forest covered. An amazing change of scenery in a short span of time.

I got out of the car to get gas at a station that advertised “Last Gas for 120 Kilometers” and noticed it was much cooler. I had no idea why. I figured maybe the mountains had changed the climate. Back in the car I rounded a corner and saw a huge waterfall sliding down the side of a forested mountain wall, so I pulled into the wayside and walked through a short and stunning rainforest to get to the river into which the water fell. Here I met the infamous NZ sand fly. The minute I slowed down they were on me and biting.  Walk fast and you can outrun them. So, I went quickly back to the car. A few minutes later I rounded another corner and was shocked to see the ocean! That’s why the temperature had fallen. The Tasman Sea was beside me and endlessly flowing away. On one side of me I saw green mountains covered in rainforest with snowcapped mountains behind them and on the other I have the aqua blue Tasman Sea pulling out to Australia. I love New Zealand!!

As I approach the town of Fox Glacier I am craning my neck looking for both the glacier and Mt Cook and Mt Tasman, the two highest peaks. The weather is beautiful, clear and in the high 70’s. After a few clouds over the ocean on the drive up I am anxious to enquire about helicopter rides over the glaciers. This is glacier country with over 400 named glaciers in these mountains, but Fox and Franz Josef are unusual in size and the fact that they are sometime growing, not just receding. After checking in at my drive-up to-my-door-Bates-type motel, I go to the helicopter office. All flights are full today and tomorrow, finally, one spot is found by one of the companies in the morning. I have to keep my fingers crossed for good weather. I pull on my hiking shoes and drive to the road that takes you to the face of Fox Glacier. It is very weird driving through a rainforest filled with palm trees, hanging moss and lush tropical plants on the way to a glacier! I get to the parking lot and start my 20 minute walk to the face or terminal ice.

A word about “easy” hikes. All the hikes are coded easy to difficult and one would think easy is pretty much of a stroll.  Easy is a relative term. Most middle aged and older women who power walk think they are in pretty good shape and easy sounds like a piece of cake. Well, don’t go signing up for any of the Great Walks just yet. Unless it’s a paved or a packed and clear trail and on the flat, power walking hasn’t prepared you for much of anything. It might make you huff and puff a little less than I did climbing the mountain to parasail, but that’s about it. These ‘easy’ trails are covered with roots, rocks, fallen trees and streams to cross. You must be constantly looking down to avoid twisting a foot, ankle or knee, and as a result your neck and shoulders ache from being bunched up. There is no rhythm to your walking because you’re picking your way around and over stuff. If you want to enjoy the view, you actually have to stop and look or you’ll kill yourself. The ups and downs are perilous and murder on older knees. And every time they tell you how long the walk will take, add at least 20% more, just because. The whole way to and from the glacier today I watched people and no one was looking up. Everyone was watching the ground. Granted there are a lot of rocks around glaciers, but the point is no one, young or old, can just run along these trails. So I chuckle now when I read the trail difficulty and know I will never go past easy unless it specifies 5 minutes or less. Because basically, anything harder than easy, is full out mountain climbing, pick ax and all.

The glacier terminal itself was mammoth, had deep blue colors reflecting from within, was shedding gray, rushing, rock filled water down the canyon and generally impressive. I was glad I had taken the easy 20 (30) minute walk (gasp!) out to the face. For dinner I drove to Lake Matheson which has a café that looks directly at Mt Hood and Mt Tasmen and offers a free glass of wine with dinner. On a warm sunny night, what could be better? I had chicken and asparagus risotto with lemon and herbs. Very nice and a great view. Lake Matheson is famous as a lake surrounded by forest and thus very calm and situated in such a way as to be a perfect reflecting pool for Mt Hood at sunrise and sunset. I have enquired and plan to be up at 5:30 AM to take the walk around the lake and be ready to snap the photos of the mountain and its reflection tomorrow morning. I hate getting up early.

Happy Thanksgiving from New Zealand

Nov. 25

Today it is Thanksgiving in America even though it is still the 24^th in America. But in NZ it is the 25^th and no one is celebrating Thanksgiving, so does that mean it isn’t Thanksgiving? My kids wished me a Happy Thanksgiving today even though it wasn’t Thanksgiving in America yet. And one of those kids was in Italy. I’m confused and am only sure I’m not getting turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy. So, today, after all my exertions of the past few days I rested as the good Lord rested on the seventh day. In the morning I actually talked to three of my four children for the first time since September. If that isn’t something to be thankful for, I don’t know what is. And in the afternoon I took a ride to the small town of Arrowtown which grew up around the gold rush here. It’s mainly a tourist spot now, but a lovely drive with some lovely historic buildings. My other reason for going there was to go out for Thanksgiving lunch. That sounds really funny, doesn’t it? No one goes out for Thanksgiving lunch. But since I’ve mainly been eating in at my apartment looking over the lake and mountains I thought I should celebrate the day some way. And frankly, Thanksgiving dinner alone sounds depressing. Lunch in a cute little town is fun. So I picked the historic old Post Office Restaurant and had a wonderful lunch of Blue Cod and aioli sauce with new potatoes and baby greens. Then I walked around, spent a little money shopping and came back home to work on my maps and figure out where I’m going in the next few days,

I’ll be on my way to the glaciers tomorrow morning. The Fox and Franz Josef glaciers not too far from Mt Cook will be my target. High in the mountains on the west coast, I will be out of internet or cell phone range or at best it will be spotty. And the few days after that I will be traveling up the wild and windy west coast to Punakaiki and Pancake Rocks and blowholes before I turn inland to cross over the island again. I will be crossing the South Island three times before heading off to the North Island if all goes as planned. So, I’m not sure when my next post will be.

But, Happy Thanksgiving to all my readers both in and out of America. I am thankful for you, for being here to read what I write, for my chance to be here doing what I am doing, and for the blessings of life and love that God has showered upon me and my family. May we all be blessed by His love and compassion and return it to the people around us.


P.S.
As a footnote, I don't know how much attention this has received in the international press, but the mining explosion here near Greymouth has left this nation in mourning. For the past week since the explosion in the mine, 24 hour news has covered what all hoped would be a positive outcome for the 29 miners and their families. Unfortunately, yesterday the news was all negative. My heart and prayers goes out to all those miners and their families. And I know all the people reading this feel the same way. As I travel that very area tomorrow my rosary will be offered for all of them and I know the prayers of many more will follow too.

Still Queen

Nov. 24

I thought I was going on a simple jet boat ride. I even booked the company whose boat did not hit the rock. One person is still in the hospital, by the way. They picked me up from my apartment which overlooks the lake and the Remarkables mountain range, a large craggy, saw tooth range. I have gorgeous sunrises over the lake and the sun stays on the mountains across the lake until almost 9:30 each night.  The whole wall of my apartment is windows overlooking this stunning array. I don’t know how I’m going to go back to dark, cold Wisconsin. Our driver said we had about a one hour drive and I inwardly groaned thinking of all the bus tours I have taken the last few months. But as we pulled away from town I smiled to myself as I saw the scenery and realized I would finally get to sit back and actually enjoy the ride instead of focusing on the driving.

They have few funny quirks on the roads in NZ . The first is the one lane bridge. If I hadn’t read about it I probably would have just driven over and caused a head-on collision. I don’t know if they are too cheap to build a two lane bridge or don’t have the engineering know-how, but you can be driving along in a good size town and come upon a bridge just wide enough for one car. A round sign will have a red arrow going one way and a bigger black arrow going the other way. The black arrow has the right of way. So you have to look across and see if anyone is on the other side before you start through. You can get big traffic back ups. It’s really strange. They also don’t bother with guard rails. I think it’s a form of population control. They must have the most dangerous roads per car in the world and the least amount of guard rails. Mountain roads, gorges, canyons, cliffs, you name it, they just don’t seem to see the need for them. And when they do put them up, they just use wooden posts and that bent metal rail which at 100kph ain’t stopping anything. And the best thing I saw was when the highway man was repairing one of the metal barriers over this famous gorge and he was replacing the metal with wooden boards. I felt so much safer.

Our little bus made its way to an area that had been the center of the gold strike in the 1800’s. The road into this area is famous and pointed out in many of the guide books, but I’m not allowed on it as rental car companies don’t allow their cars on unpaved roads.  Actually, I wouldn’t have made it a tenth of a mile. We drove into canyons and cliffsides with no room to spare next to the bus wheels. I was looking straight down sides of mountains or inches from the hewn rock of the cliffside.  I would have started crying if I was driving because it was so terrifying and once you start there was no turning back. But not being the driver I actually enjoyed it. We had to go this long route so we could get down to a special river filled with rocks and bends and twists through cliffs for our jet boat ride.  Arriving safely at the bottom we suited up in rain gear and life jackets (no helmets) and climbed aboard our jet boat. I made it into the front seat on the edge. The ride was great; speeds up to 80kph, 360 degree spins that showered us with water, racing through narrow openings in the river, under cliffs, through rapids along boulders and under old bungee jumping bridges. My hair was soaked and we all screamed and laughed quite a bit. On the way out of the canyon we stopped and walked out on a wooden suspension bridge that used to be used for bungee jumping. It was about three feet wide and 320 feet above the river and swayed as we walked. Very cool. We got to throw huge rocks in the river while making a wish and hear them slam into the water like the boom of a shotgun. On the way back I asked a young man who was alone what he had been doing – he did not think I was a stalker! And he said he had done the zipline, something I had been interested in doing. He also reminded me the weather was going to change so I should do outdoor stuff today.

So, once I was dropped off it was on to the Zipline outfit on the peak in town. Once again I went up in the gondola and found the outfitters. They have six tree house stations on the mountain and they take you on an eco-tour as you progress down the mountain from easy to more difficult. The last zipline is the steepest in the world. You can opt for just the first four, but what’s the point in that? There are 7 in our group, three couples and me, and we get all harnessed and helmeted and start off to the first line. The young man on the jet boat tour had assured me it was easy so I wasn’t too scared until I started thinking about how young he was and his definition of easy. The hardest part the first time is walking off the step in to mid- air. You have to tell your brain it’s ok, there’s a line attached and this will be fun. And it is fun about 2 seconds after you feel the cable grab your weight and you start flying through the trees the wind in your face. The next hardest part is letting go of the cable and flinging your arms out wide and screaming. Actually the screaming came quite naturally to me. Next I tried going upside down off the platform. I only made it halfway back, but it was pretty fun. Then the next platform I tried going off the steps without holding onto the cable –another really tough head game. I balled my hands in fists like the guide suggested and I did sort of bring them in front of my body, but I never grabbed the cable. And the last thing I tried was tucking like a cannonball to get more speed and with my added weight from the cruise I really got some speed going, especially on the final, steep line. What they didn’t prepare me for was the 20 minute mountain walk to the last tree house station. Again I had to tramp through the woods on the mountain, only this time is was like straight down on treacherous, rock and root strewn paths at breakneck speed. My knees, back and thighs were screaming. I am not hardy. After three hours on the mountain I crawled home, filled a really hot bath, climbed in and resolved to do nothing but sightsee or shop tomorrow. I’ve had enough adventures.