New Zealand
January 28, 2004
Omarama to Wanaka
116 km today / 524 km to date (in 7:20)
There's been enough rain lately that water restrictions in some areas have been lifted! Agreed, much needed. But let's put that behind us! Actually, we had a big day today and the weather turned out perfectly: overcast until noon-ish, by which time we'd climbed the ascent (450 to 950 metres) to Lindis Pass, then the sun came out and shone brilliantly all afternoon as we did the descent and hilly sections beyond.
A man whose cattle were grazing along the route pulled up in a pick-up truck, let his dog out and then began a continuous stream of whistles as he directed the dog in its herding of the cattle. One dog, 150 or so head of cattle and one guy whistling. It looks a pretty efficient way to move a $90,000 inventory. The cattle actually started to make me nervous. One cow with those big brown eyes is adorable. 150 all jostling up against a gate while a bossy little dog orders them around looks like 40 tons of dense mass ready to move. I cycled by quite quickly given it was an 8% grade!
The scenery is dramatic. There are no trees at all, but the foothills come right down in folds to the road, looking like giant's toes. In some places the slopes are so steep that there's no gorse or ground cover of any kind, just gray slopes and traces of mini-landslides. While lupins are a curse in New Zealand and the authorities go to some lengths using killer herbicides to eliminate them, where the lupins are winning the battle it is colourfully pretty.
Coming down the other side of the pass, it continues as dry mountain sides except a narrow strip along the river where there is a thin ribbon of trees. The scale is awesome and there is no one around.
The town of Wanaka is set on a lake and at this lower elevation there is a bit of green. Because it was a long day we didn't reach town until 6:30, so all of the backpacker joints were filled. We had to move upscale, but its hard to be sorry. Our private patio at Brook Vale Manor sits alongside a small stream and looks up into the hills. A perfect place for a glass of wine as we reflect on the things we've seen and muse about adventures that may lay ahead.
January 29, 2004
Wanaka, New Zealand
Wanaka, population 3,500 and Queenstown, population 7,500, are self-proclaimed outdoor adventure capitals of New Zealand. Wanaka, with its smaller population, is the more laid-back of the two, so we chose to have our rest day here.
The adventure label seems to be well-earned. On offer are long walks in the Mount Aspiring National Park, scenic helicopter and airplane rides, heli-mountain biking, kayaking, horse-riding, river-rafting, jet-boating, rock-climbing, waterfall abseiling, boogie-board white-water sledging, ski-diving and tandem ski-diving, paragliding, fishing, 4WD quad ATVs, and glacier walks, to say nothing of the less extreme activities such as golf, boat cruises, wine tours and swimming. Then the winter sports activity options begin. Overwhelmed, we went for the world's shortest walk and browsed a book sale.
Public policy issues in New Zealand sound like a page out of B.C. The leader of the National Party yesterday made headlines with a speech about "one law" (the same law for Maoris and non-Maoris), which was immediately denounced by most everyone as inciting racism in New Zealand, since it focused on "not paying for the errors of our grandparents". Local communities are divided by those who want development and growth versus those who want to maintain the status quo, each side speaking in terms of higher order principles which do not succeed in masking their very direct self-interest or contradictory statements. The government just bought a major piece of land for park reserve protection. The opposition parties claim the government paid too much and have set a new threshold which is too high to allow future acquisitions. This is not Shania Twain or an Arab Emirate, they claim, but the cash-strapped government. The government says there are only three of four eco-systems like this in NZ, so the dollar figure was appropriate. One legislator said it shouldn't be purchased at all since no more protected areas are needed and its time NZ took pride in its agricultural history. And the sellers said, what's the fuss, we've turned down several offers over the last fifteen years so obviously its a parcel in demand. Ah, but to be back in the thick of things!
January 30, 2004
Wanaka to Queenstown
71 km today / 595 km to date (in 5:08)
This seems a long, tiring day, even though the mileage wasn't great, because we climbed an 1100m saddle, the last 1.5 km of which was about a 12% grade. Pant, pant, pant, whew! The hills are a bit rounder here, and we followed a wider valley than the route leading to Wanaka, which narrowed in as we approached the Crown Saddle summit. At the top, a somewhat disappointing view but, rounding the side of the hill, a beautiful panorama opened up. Most roads here snake up valleys, but on the way down, this road was cut into the side of the hill (including 8 or so switchbacks -- we're talking steep!) The pasture land vistas were spectacular -- lots of cameras out all the way down.
Heading into Queenstown, the last 8 km has a bike path right along the edge of the lake, so we arrived feeling relaxed and prone [on our bikes?] to like the place, having been able to avoid the heavy traffic at the Queenstown approach. It is indeed a hopping town. It has all the adventure-tourism of Wanaka, plus more with gondola rides, bungy-jumping (including bungy-jumping from a para-sail) etc. It also has lots of restaurants, bars, shops etc, all overpriced for the millions of tourists who pour off tour buses after their various jaunts around the area. Although the population is 7,500, there are a reported 15,000 tourist beds. A whistler in the making.
January 31, 2004
Queenstown to Mossburn
116 km today / 711 km to date (in 7:21)
Today we bit off more than we wanted to chew. Because of morning drizzle, we though we might explore Queenstown but as the morning brightened we got braver and decided to get underway. Last night we booked a cruise on the West Coast in a couple of days so don't have much choice but to keep moving. Once underway, we learned the next accommodation with space was 100+km on; another character-building day!
The scenery today was fantastic. For the first 50 km we tracked Wakatipu Lake around its northern tip, then headed south all along its eastern shore. The sky was filled with high cloud and some of the morning low-lying fog lingered, so the peaks of the mountains rose up between these two layers, leaving lots of room to imagine "It looks like ________." The Eyre Mountains are not sheer drops, but are steeply enough sloped to be dramatic and, on our side of the lake the range is named "The Remarkables".
After leaving the end of the lake, the next 65 km (though Garston, Athol and Five Rivers) is rolling and then flat pasture land where we become reacquainted with sheep, cattle, deer and rabbits. Traffic is very light (4 cars in 5 minutes) dropping to even less as I (finally) approach Mossburn at 7:26 p.m. (but who is counting?!) We are still in the rain shadow of the many mountains of the west coast but nearing the edge so, despite the drought conditions that have been prevalent, it's a bit greener than anywhere we've seen to date. Lovely.
Mossburn's population looks to be about 100, of which, it being Saturday night, the younger generation is at the pub/restaurant/hotel. Kids are allowed in the pub as long as they are supervised by an adult, so we chat with the locals while they sip a beer and keep an eye on the kids playing with toys on the floor. It all seems very comfortable and contented. If only the food were not deep-fried-everything, I'd think this a very civilized lifestyle.
February 1, 2004
Mossburn to Manapouri
17 km today / 728 km to date (in 0:53)
Drought? What drought? The hotel/pub/restaurant owner tells us the farmers were in last Friday to celebrate a break in the drought. By my reckoning, they could now have been celebrating for nine days. Its about time it quit raining and they got back to minding sheep and rearing cattle. But my vote didn't win the day. So we're booked a seat on the bus to carry us our gear to Manapouri -- from which it looks like we'll be going on a cruise in the rain. Of course, that beats cycling in the rain, hands down!
... time passes ...
The bus arrives, but it is not going through the town we are. Hmmm. Luckily, in the meanwhile, it had quit raining. So we take the bus partway to a stop called Hillside Corners which has a population of 0, being simply the turnoff to Hillside Road. A short cycle, easy, through pasture land and we have made it to Manapouri. That was easy. Wonder why it took all day?
February 2, 2004
Boat cruise at Doubtful Sound
A day to be remembered. We are now near the rainy West Coast, at the edge of Fiordland National Park. A boat ride, a bus ride and we'll be on the fiord cruise.
We and 60 odd other lucky souls board a vessel and zip at about 30 knots for 45 minutes across Lake Manapouri and board a bus for the 22 kilometre ride along the Spey Valley across to Doubtful Sound. Climbing the valley and the 670m Wilmot Pass is splediferous. This is the first time we've seen vegetation that is uniquely New Zealand and our heads are turning at every sight. The area has been shaped by glacial activity over the last two million years, most recently 12-14,000 years ago when the glaciers retreated leaving deep fjords, steep mountains and deep valleys. The area gets an awesome 7 metres of rain annually, so it is green, covered in ferns and supports twisted gnarled beech trees covered in thick green moss. The area was nearly changed forever in the 1950s in the heyday of dam construction but, due to a massive public uproar at the prospect, an interesting compromise was reached. Lake Te Anau, a nearby lake at a slightly higher elevation is dammed and feeds into Lake Manapouri. Across Lake Manapouri, at the point it is closest to Doubtful Sound, a 10 km tunnel was dug through the mountain. This allows power to be generated at an underground power station and the water to travel out through the tunnel. The lake levels are managed to emulate natural rises and falls in water levels as much as is reasonably possible. A power station in a World Heritage Site and an uneasy truce between Hydro and conservationists. Good on 'em.
There are no other roads in this area and access to this one is only by first getting across the lake. Given the terrain there are almost no hiking trails either. The area is pristine.
The charter coach bus stops at our floating home, a 44-metre mono hull with double and quad cabins which will sleep up to 72 passengers. It has no keel, sails which are deployed only for show for a few minutes, and a top speed of up to 11 knots. Comfortable digs. Friendly crew who double up chores -- loading passengers one minute, working in the kitchen the next, a little later driving a tender. They seem to love their jobs although how seeing a new batch of faces for the same trip every day can be interesting beats me.
We have chosen this overnight trip rather than the popular and slightly less expensive one to Milford Sound just north of here because Doubtful is so remote. Milford has a road directly to it so gets 2,000 visitors a day. We see one other boat during the day and have the whole 40-kilometre sound to ourselves overnight. Its pretty special.
We cruise slowly for several hours, past giant vertical cliffs of granite, gneiss, some quartz showing. But little rock is actually visible. Notwithstanding the steep slopes, green vegetation is everywhere. We learn that there is no natural soil on these slopes; it is too steep and any that might be inclined to rest on the rock is washed down with the high-volume rainfall. But over a period of 75-100 years, moss gets a grip, supports small plants and shrubs from which roots eventually take hold and form a solid interwoven carpet. Trees take on life. It is truly remarkable that trees can grown on these verticals. Every once in a while, particularly after an earthquake or storm, a tree will pull loose. If it gains any momentum, it starts to pull at the network of roots. All trees in front of it are pushed over and down, gathering force. A tree avalanche they call it -- or travalanche -- which at its conclusion leaves a bare strip of rock from its starting point right down to the water's edge where a great jumble of moss and branches lies in a heap.
Not long after we learned about this natural phenomena a great shout went up on the vessel. Someone had spotted a travalanche in motion! We stood spellbound, watching the unbelievable speed with which giant trees are ripped down. It stopped part way down, but a 30-metre wide, 40-metre long clearing happened in about 10 seconds. A crew member who has been doing these cruises for 4 years later told us she had not seen a travalanche until today. Seems strange to feel lucky to have seen such destruction. Glad there's another 39 kilometres 970 metres left.
Its a beautiful ancient old growth forest. Mostly beech -- southern beech, black beech, silver beech, many varieties (eh, Brent?) With mist and fog and rain and clouds, it looks like Lord of the Rings, New Zealand's "National Film trilogy".
The scenery is the draw, but we also saw dolphins (including a calf) and a colony of sea lions. Later we went out in a tender and got up within a few feet of shore, followed by a paddle in kayaks in the awesome stillness and still later a swim. There were those who said the water was warm. The rain creates hundreds of gorgeous waterfalls that spill enough liquid into the sound that there is a layer of fresh water on top of the ocean water. It was hard to be sure based on the approximately 4 seconds it took me to slide into the water, yelp and leap out, but I think those folks were having us on!
The food is good, we met some interesting folks to chat with, the fiords are spectacular, it is quiet and remote -- it is so unlike other places we have visited. A great experience. Thanks to Jo and Pat for their strong recommendation!
February 3, 2004
Doubtful Sound and Manapouri
More cruising in the morning. Yesterday we were lucky enough to have great weather. Today it is raining in a fashion typical of this region; that is, pretty hard. But its still a great place.
Cruise 6:30 - 10:30 a.m., then on the bus, on the boat, on the dock at 12:15. Cycle in the drizzle to the motel where we were only 2 days ago, assigned to the same room, deja vu. We're checking out bus schedules!
February 4, 2004
Manapouri to Tuatapere
87 km today (actually 83 today; 4 km to and from boat over last two days / 815 km to date (in 4:50)
Fairly often it's cloudy or rainy in the morning, clearing up at 10:00 or 11:00 or 12:00 or 1:00 or even later. Today was backwards. When we woke up to sunny skies and high fluffy clouds, we grabbed a quick breakfast and began our journey at the near-dawn hour of 9:30. People here tend to pooh-pooh farmland (so to speak) and there's no question we've seen lots, but on a sunny day, tailwind propelling us, one 200m hill to keep us humble with the rest of the route flat -- well, it is fantastic. We were held up once by the quintessential picture of New Zealand -- tanned man in shorts and workboots whistling his dog through manoeuvres to get about 800 sheep quickly across the road. Sheep may be dim-witted but they are obedient! Leaving Manapouri (pop 185), we zipped through Blackthorn (pop about 30) and Clifden (pop about 30) and then hit a strong headwind. For the last 15 km we battled 45 km winds, crawling along at a speed of about 8 km/hr. Painfully discouraging. Tuatapere (pop 850) appeared about that time and, zip, here we are registered at the town's only hotel. There seem to be no other hotel guests, but I bet the bar and restaurant will fill up later. With at least two people, anyway! (Gotta run now.....)
February 5, 2004
Tuatapere to Invercargill
96 km today / 911 km to date (in 6:08)
Breakfast is served at the hotel at 6:45, so our stomachs were able to deliver what our willpower has not been able -- an early start. By 7:45 we had our feet on the pedals. After yesterday's weather we were keen to see the forecast for today. Sun, wind, and rain (that pretty well covers all bases, which is accurate in NZ); winds 30 - 60 kph; high of 16 degrees. Lovely. Not.
I chatted for a bit with a couple of other guests at the hotel. They were from 150 km up the coast; one is a sheep farmer, the other is a stock trader. It took a moment for me to make the connection -- a stock trader deals in livestock, not stocks and bonds. They have been very busy lately; the drought has initiated a lot of "movement of sheep". But the drought is near over, so the "opportunities" are diminishing. An example of one person's misfortune is another person's opportunity.
The wind in this area seems to be a permanent fixture. Many of the tress are permanently bent from the force of the wind, tipped away from the coast and tilting at a 30-degree angle to the north. Similar to a lot of our coastal tress. Stunted by wind and salt, bare lower branches, an artist's delight.
Today for the first time we reached the southern coast. While windy (but of course) the surf seems remarkably calm for all the weather we've had lately. It's very scenic -- small surf, low rocks, grass rolling right down to the water's edge (this must be a very salt-resistant variety). For the first time I'm wearing earplugs to prevent earache from the cold wind. Its interesting how it heightens the senses of sight and feel.
Leaving Tuatapere (too-a-TAP-ree), a former sawmilling town, we pass through Orepuki (pop 300), Colac Bay (pop 150) and Riverton (pop 2000, a picturesque town with its roots in early European sealing and whaling activity, now revolving around tourism and struggling not be become a feeder community to Invercargill, 40 km away).
Yesterday we spotted a cyclist couple with an eight-year old child in tow. The father had an attachment on the back of his bike; the child had her own handlebars and pedals which, in theory, she could use to help out. Mother had all the gear, including camping gear. I've never seen a bike as heavily laden. What troopers. What good parents. What lunatics!
We ran into our Dutch pals going the opposite direction, traded route stories. First time we've experienced the "its a small country" syndrome here.
The City of Invercargill (pop 50,000) is not a destination in itself, but has some interesting old buildings and our motel backs onto the city's centre piece, Queen's Park. We had planned to go further today, as far as Bluff which would allow us to catch the early ferry to Stewart Island. But an hour on the telephone taught me the ferry is full in the morning and most rooms on Steward Island are booked -- combine a long weekend (tomorrow is Maori Day) with a local wedding on Stewart Island (pop 420) and everything is spoken for. The frustrations of small towns are directly linked to their charm, though, and in the end I was able to work something out for late tomorrow.
We celebrated by going to a bike store and getting bike helmets. We've enjoyed our chats with local gendarmes but their patient explanations and warnings have done what no disciplinary action could achieve. Brent wears it over his cap so it sits a couple of inches off his head -- looks like a rather curious top hat with dangling straps -- undone, naturally. Red and yellow flames as a design complete the statement. Don't ask what the statement is.
February 6, 2004
Invercargill to Stewart Island
6 km today / 917 km to date (in 0:42)
Rain, drizzle, clouds, drizzle. No rain. It's raining. Off and on; off and on. Since its only 30 km to the ferry, we decide to hang out at the museum while the weather makes up its mind what it wants to do. The museum is good, especially for the size of Invercargill. Its focus is natural history and it uses the same, effective scene-setting style of B.C.'s Royal Museum. Its most noted feature is the tuataras on display in glass living areas. They say the ancestors of these reptiles date back 165 million years. They are small (18" or so), but seem to have evolved very little -- they look like they'd fit right in in prehistoric times -- beady unblinking eyes, webby toes, scales, spiney-spine. Looks like an early version of a baby iguana.
The other display of note was of the subAntarctic Islands; their history and stories of efforts to colonize and/or settle; their geological beginnings; the current challenge of returning them to their natural state. All done in a way that made learning fun. And, of course, it whetted our appetite to visit yet one more cold, windy, rainy, inhospitable rock!
When the rain didn't ease, we booked a spot on the local shuttle to Bluff. Naturally, by the time the bus arrived it had stopped raining -- story of our lives. One smart-ass fellow passenger wondered why we didn't cycle such a short distance, opining that if one tried to avoid rain, one wouldn't go anywhere in New Zealand. Having done my share of riding in the rain, I wondered why he didn't walk. Especially because he immediately went to sleep on the bus in the seat right in front of me and I'm quite certain a heavy bag nearly fell on his head.
The catamaran to Stewart Island brought back memories of British Columbia. This one works, carries 90 passengers, no cars. The sea was full of swells from the winds of the last few days. When the hosts at our B&B asked anxiously how the ride was, Brent said, well only one person threw up all over our bikes. They nodded, relieved. "Oh good, it wasn't bad then," they said.
There was one other couple at the B&B, two American folks. When we were introduced to them and they were told we were from Canada, the friendly gent snorted "Canadians! We're at war with you." Brent, ever the conciliator, responded "We'll forgive you as long as you didn't vote for Bush" (without asking me if I wanted to be dragged into his politics!) Well that got it going. They were from Texas, big supporters, yadda, yadda. Our hosts probably feared a war right here on Stewart Island! Fortunately, our combatants went back to their corners and a little later we were all talking about hiking trails and swimming. Swimming? I think someone was trying to change the subject.
February 7, 2004
Ulva and Stewart Islands
Stewart Island, a 45-minute catamaran ride from mainland New Zealand, is the country's most southerly point (excepting the subAntarctic Islands). Aside from Doubtful Sound it is the only place we have seen native vegetation, which is the reason for our visit. It does not disappoint. Kamaki, rimu, rata, many other trees.
But the real treat is Ulva Island, a 10-minute boat ride with Ken a local legend. Ulva Island is one of a few New Zealand islands where attempts are being made to return it to its natural state. Like most countries, introduced species have played havoc with endemic species in New Zealand. Many birds have been wiped out by predators. Possums, now numbering 18 million, eat bird eggs and destroy vegetation. Ditto rats and, even more so stoats, since they can swim, climb and burrow into nest holes, and they are fierce and fearless. Every naturalist and most ordinary citizens rue their introduction.
Ulva Island (about 2 km by 1 km) successfully eradicated rats through a five-year programme completed in 1997 and is now an important conservation area for threatened species. In 3 hours we saw a number of the endemic birds, although I'm learning you can never see enough. There's always the one that got away -- and that we'll have to come back for.
Before being zipped over to Ulva Island in a New Zealand special, our B&B hosts, Jenny and Ewan Gell took us for a tour on most of Stewart Island's 20 km of road. On our return from Ulva we hoofed it over to Moturau Moana, a cultivated native garden -- a true labour of love by a former local who bequeathed it to the local area on her death. Not surprisingly, it's not maintained as she would have done, but interesting and touching nonetheless.
We earned our big dinner at the Boardwalk Cafe and then headed over to use the Internet situated in the local hotel/restaurant/bar. While I watched the evening getting going, some locals invited me to join their table. A bunch of raucous guys, but you only live once. We swapped tales, I asked serious questions, they tried to give me non-serious answers but sometimes forgot themselves and engaged in something approaching real conversation. I learned about the school system in rural areas, shortage of trades people in such a strong economy, trials and tribulations of deer eradication programmes, to say nothing of more local gossip than I needed to know. By the time Brent joined us, I was having a whale of a time with "Me Mates". Next thing I knew he was runner-up for world's chattiest tourist on Stewart Island. I suspect if and when we return to the Island we'll have no trouble locating them. Probably in the same seats.
Yesterday was Maori Day, known officially as Waitangi Day, in celebration of the 1840 signing of the Treaty of Waitangi. New Zealand is known internationally for its healthy relationship between its aboriginal people and its descendants of European settlers. Recognition, assimilation, cultural appreciation, treaty rights, accommodation. While not the panacea it is sometimes viewed to be, there are some notable successes. There are also undercurrents of concern in some quarters and some Maori leaders who are anything but satisfied. Perhaps it ever shall be thus.
February 8, 2004
Stewart Island
Stewart Island is about 60 by 40 kms, most of it a National Park and with the 420 population restricted to habitation in a very small corner. It has almost all endemic trees, having survived its early whaling and fishing days largely intact, and with the timber industry somewhat contained. With a focus now on fishing and tourism, it is a walker's delight. For the very adventurous, trails cover about one-half the island. But even for us, a 5-hr hike had us in largely untrammeled area. Along the coast and over headlands for the first half (beautiful) and back through once-logged areas now full of tree ferns or open -- not so spectacular but enough birds to keep the ornithologist of the family quite content.
A cruise ship with 380 passengers was moored off the island today. Apparently there used to be a dozen a year. The local government imposed a mooring fee of $50,000 -- proceeds to park improvement. Now there are two ships a year.
Back to the Boardwalk Cafe where blue penguins can be seen coming in to nest at dusk. Our luck with penguins held -- we saw nary a one. But Brent saw an elephant seal. We theorized the seal might be scaring the penguins away, but the cafe owner set us straight. The elephant seal is too lazy to bother with penguins -- it looks for discards off the back of fishing boats. Another sighting in the wilds.
We will be sorry to leave Stewart Island. It's an interesting place and there are more walks to be done. Jenny and Ewan are friendly and full of local information -- we enjoyed discussing our plans with them each morning and debriefing each evening. Their house is surrounded by birds -- we saw native Tuis, bellbirds, wood pigeons and the spectacular kaka looking like an 18" parrot -- all just a few feet away. And our room had its own balcony for quiet contemplation. We must come back!
February 9, 2004
Stewart Island to Fortrose
80 km today / 997 km to date (in 4:45)
It's a good thing we altered our route about a week ago so that we'd be more likely to have the prevailing winds at our back. The ferry dropped us off about 9:00, we cycled north from Bluff, bypassing Invercargill and following the Southern Scenic Route first along the 30 km Bluff coastal road and them through pasture land to Fortrose (pop 100). With the wind at our back, it was a breeze (ha, ha).
The cottage we have tonight is on the property of Christine and Colin McKenzie. The McKenzies are fourth generation New Zealanders; the family home is about 2 km down the road; Colin and his three brothers all farm in the immediate vicinity.
The cottage is the old schoolteacher's residence, built in 1930 and moved to this property as a holiday home/cottage rental 10 years ago. It has retained all its special 1930s features -- mouldings, switches, porcelain. Period furniture. I can't stop prowling around. It's delightful.
February 10, 2004
Fortrose to Papatowai
77 km today / 1074 km to date (in 5:34)
Over a cup of coffee this a.m. Christine and I chatted about all sorts of stuff -- world events, prospects for China, ecosystems, tourism potential for this area. She is interested in everything and involved in all sorts of things -- she manages the region's website and when I went in she was reading a government white paper on tourism, preparing to provide comment. Only our discussion of New Zealand's economic reforms of the 1980s was a downer for her. Most people are resigned, she says, and many believe they were necessary and the country is better off for them. A few such as her remain bitter about the impact on rural areas. Perhaps inevitable over time, she ponders, but wrenching in the time frames involved.
We have left the Southern Scenic Route and are on the coastal road, passing through Otara (only visible sign was a community hall in the middle of nowhere), Haldane (2 houses larger than Otara) and Niagara Falls (an order of magnitude larger than Haldane). A short side trip took us to Curio Bay, where there are stunning fossilized remains of an ancient forest from the middle Jurassic period 180 million years ago. Until now I have seen petrified wood only in museums. It is a whole other experience to see it in situ, especially such a glorious locale with blue sky and crashing waves.
A second short side trip to Porpoise Bay resulted in us not seeing either the yellow-eyed penguins (a rare breed of which only 6,000 to 7,000 remain in the world) or the Hector's dolphins (of which only 4,000 - 7,000 remain).
A final short side trip to the Tautuku Estuary resulted in us not seeing the endemic fernbid. But we haven't given up!
33 km of gravel road and one flat tire couldn't offset the tailwind, the sun, the pasture land and sporadic plantations, the fossils, the side trips, the coastal views. A great route.
Papatowai (pah-pay-tow-AYE) is a tiny town (maybe 150) with nothing much in it, but seems to be a good jumping off spot for some nearby treks.
February 11, 2004
Papatowai to Kaka Point
44 km today / 1118 km to date (in 3:13)
Cycling over hill and dale through Owaka (pop 400) and then yet another side route to Kaka Point on gravel road. This puts us at the bottom southeast corner of the country. Its a small holiday town with long sandy beaches, beautiful views, bush walks and nearby (11 km) Nugget Point with a lighthouse, fur seals, elephant seals, yellow-eyed penguins and a breeding ground for some sea birds.
Brent immediately declared a time out. Whether its the view from our balcony or our rubbery legs is hard to say.
On to Brenda's next New Zealand diary.
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