Day 49- Kickin’ back in Kaikoura

We woke up the next morning with no definite plans for the day- we had to stay in town until the next day (as Jens wanted to swim with dolphins the next morning), so we decided to go walk along the peninsula. We completed the walk over grassy farmland (heading straight into the sea via limestone cliffs) in a few hours, and walked back to see seals on the shore. These walks are immensely enjoyable- each one is different, and they all promise to be interesting with great sights. This walk was no different- we ended up with views of the surrounding mountain ranges and the brilliant blue water crashing over limestone formations. According to a geologist friend of mine, all of New Zealand is marine sediment, meaning it was all originally ocean that got uplifted over time above sea level. Unlike Hawaii, which is volcanically raised (and thus made of igneous rock I presume), New Zealand has these sedimentary deposits everywhere- which is why limestone prevails and makes such cool shapes and arches as it erodes. This leads to dynamic shifting coastlines that are a wonder to behold- it is one of the keys to the beauty of the country, I would wager. After this small trip, we returned and had a few hours to kill. We decided to split up and do whatever we wanted. I decided to go visit the shops, and had a few good conversations with locals, but didn’t purchase anything. We spent the evening relaxing, but unlike our other stops we didn’t meet anyone interesting to have a conversation with. We slept in and slept well.

Day 48- On the road again

We woke up the next day, checked out, and got on the road, heading for a town on the East coast called Kaikoura. I don’t know what the entire name means, but I know ‘Kai’ is Maori for ‘food,’ and the place has a legend attached to it- it is where a Maori demigod anchored his foot to catch a whale in the sea. Before we began our drive, we headed to an area called Waikoropupu springs. These springs boast the clearest freshwater in the world (supposedly). Looking in, I would believe the claims; it looked as though there was but a thin film of glass over the bottom, and nothing more. Everything was completely clear and detailed- it made a fine morning stop.

The rest of the day was again driving. We arrived in Kaikoura in late afternoon, just in time to check into our Backpacker lodge and see the sun set between the snowcapped mountains, the first snow we had seen since the glacier. It was a glorious sight- to make it better, we sat outside in the free spa after dinner and stared at the magnificent mountains as the full moon rose and illuminated the snow.

Day 47- Abel Tasman

The next day we decided to hike part of Abel Tasman National Park. The area where Abel Tasman is located is known as the Golden Bay. It has clear, blue water and orange/yellow sand that looks like it is out of a postcard. We began our hike up the wooded hills, and eventually hit a sheltered cove filled with beautiful sand. This was the most beautiful place I had seen yet in New Zealand (see the trend of increasing beauty?). We started walking along the beach to where the trail picked up again, and I was struck by something. There was only one other pair of footprints in the sand. It was a beautiful April day in an astonishing natural park, and we seemed to be the only ones enjoying it. We sat down in this locale and enjoyed our lunch, then continued on. We continued on this pattern of beach, hills, beach, hills. On the coast I felt like I was in a pirate movie- in the jungle-esqe wooded hills I felt like I was either in Jurassic park, Indiana Jones, or Lord of the rings (take your pick). Jens, our well traveled German friend, pointed out areas that looked like different parts of Europe. Throughout our day walk, we tallied up areas that reminded us of different places- the Caribbean, the Appalachians, the jungle, and the Mediterranean. We returned to our hostel and made dinner- which was a step up from our meal the day before, and way above our first pitiful night, hoarding our free soup. We met a few people this second night at Shambala- 2 women from England and Argentina, 2 more from Spain and France, and a man and woman from Switzerland and England, respectively. Me and the other 2 guys traveling with me went down the street and got a homemade beer that evening (which was amazing) and talked to some of these people for the rest of the night.

Day 46- Truman Track and heading north

The next day we woke up and decided again to head north to try and reach Abel Tasman, our proposed destination for the day before. By advice of the nameless Canadian before, we decided to stop at another point of interest known as Truman Track, which is a better-known coastal cove area. After this mini excursion, we began our excruciatingly long drive north- there is no way that the trip could have been made in one day. During the drive we began to see another subtle change in scenery- the mountains began to get a little dryer. The skies opened up a bit, and the rain ceased to follow us. We got to our backpacker, after a 2km drive through private dirt road that was surrounded by serene farmland that looked like the shire. Our stop: Shambala.

This backpacker lodge is as self sufficient as it could be: It gets all electricity from solar power, all water from rain collection, and all heat from a wood stove. The hostel was beautiful, serene, and trusting- the doors had no locks. The view was astounding- a clear, unobstructed view from the private balcony did not go wasted. The best part was the price- though this was one of the more expensive hostels we stayed at, it still was only $29 NZD a night- that is $15 USD. For a place with these amenities back home, I don’t know how much it would cost, but it wouldn’t be cheap. We spent the evening exploring the coastline and collecting shells. It was overall a fairly uneventful day. Interesting finds on the coast: Tons of cool shells, a small inlet to the river, which we waded across, a destroyed dock, limestone outcrops that looked as though they would eventually become caves, and peculiar rock spirals in the sand, most likely due to erosion. Combined with the atmosphere of the Shambala, it seemed almost mystical.

Day 45- Movin’ on up- to the West Coast

The next day, we bade farewell to our Backpacker Lodge, to Monique, and to our free soup, and headed north up the West Coast. Our aim was to head to Abel Tasman (at the tip top of the South Island) and relax for a few days. After a few hours of driving, we stopped for a rest in a (very) small place called Ross. It was once we had gotten out that Kristen, one member of our roving party, remembered something. “Wait! Steve lives here! We need to find a jade shop!” Turns out that a friend of hers had come here a year before and bought jade from the only jade craftsman in the town. We quickly found him by the massive chained goat outside his shop (I guess the ‘Jade’ sign in front of the shop might have helped as well). He told us everything there was to know about jade- how to tell if it’s fake, how to decide what is a good purchase and what is overpriced, and (of course) what the symbols they are carved into mean. Jade (and bone) pendants are worn quite commonly here in New Zealand- there are several shapes meaning several different things (I won’t go into detail here). When we were at polyfest in Auckland, all of the Maori Kapa Haka groups had pendants, as do all of my friends from New Zealand. I inquired about them, and the significance of jade (AKA greenstone). Apparently, you are not supposed to get a pendant for yourself- they must be given to you. Often, they are blessed (though it doesn’t have to be by a Maori person). It is something that is worn with pride- and I stood with rapt attention as all of this was being explained to me. We spent a few minutes with Steve from Ross, then went on our way. We quickly discovered that the windy mountain roads are too long to allow the trip in one day, however, and after 4 or 5 hours of driving, we decided to stop at a place called Punakaiki.

Punakaiki is right on the shore- and it makes Franz Joseph look like New York City. It has no gas station, no grocery store, no nothing. It has 2 cafes, and some lodges, and that is it in terms of human amenities. What it lacks in these, however, it more than makes up for in natural beauty. Punakaiki is located near a national park, though that is no surprise. National parks cover so much of the south island that it is a wonder that any place can be more than an hour’s drive away from one.


We got into our lodge and set about exploring. The area looked like southeast Asia, according to a traveling friend of ours who had been there. Again, rainforest coated mountains went straight into the sea. We walked along the beach, and found rocks of all shapes, sizes, and colors. We decided within 5 minutes that we should all quit school and gather pretty stones to sell to tourists- you couldn’t walk 3 steps without finding a stone that caught your eye. Along the beach were rock formations jutting out of the water- they looked almost like ships about to set sail, their tops cloaked in greenery. I walked to the end of the beach to one of these pillars, and marveled at it- beaches back home don’t have this. Hell, it’s flat for hundreds of miles from the coast where I live; this sight was incredible, unreal, and unbelievable.

To complete the picture, I walked past a ridge falling into the ocean, and came upon… heaven. Beyond this ridge was a private bay- no houses, people, no nothing. It was surrounded by limestone walls coated in trees and shrubs, and had a supreme view of the sunset. Unfortunately for me, it was only mine for a small while- within minutes the German guy in our group (his name is Jens) ran into the bay with a large stick, planted it in the sand, and claimed the land for himself. I was now standing on private property- the diminutive kingdom of Jensland.

I don’t think I have ever seen a place so beautiful as this (similar to when we drove through the mountains). The sun was perfectly tilted in the late afternoon sky- the area was peaceful, serene and secluded. And once again, there were no people. Back home, even ugly beaches are surrounded by beach homes, bars, surf shops and fast food joints. Here, there is nothing. There are abounding rivers, and beautiful seas; pristine coastlines and ecologies that make a biology major want to work here forever, and it is empty. I felt truly blessed.

We got back for dinner, and made a simple pasta meal (a step up from the free soup we had been living off the past two days). One thing that I love about these places is that at dinnertime, you meet people from all countries and walks of life. The kitchen becomes alive with strange aromas and languages both familiar and foreign. It really is the heart of the hostel. At dinner we met another Canadian (Andrew kept getting lucky) who told us all of the cool places to go on our second week of the trip. Turns out he had pretty darn good advice.

Day 44- Ice, Ice, everywhere

The next day we headed to Franz Joseph Glacier to do a half day hike. We loaded our gear and went to our location, where we would hike to a riverbed and follow the icemelt to the glacier. In order to do this, however, we had to hike through rainforest. Interestingly enough, in this dense area of wood, the clearest paths were on creeks. We climbed creeks up the side of hills until we had cleared an icemelt river below, and then walked the extra kilometer across the stones to the Glacier itself.

Glaciers are interesting phenomena of nature- snow builds at the top of a mountain range, and gets packed until it becomes ice- it slides down the side of the mountain, creating crevasses in it as it goes. Think of it as a giant frozen river, hundreds (if not thousands) of feet thick, moving at the astonishing rate of 5 feet a day. This means that every few days, new paths may need to be carved in the glacier to accommodate the new shifting of the ice.

As we ascended above the valley floor on a staircase carved into the ice wall, we began to see how large this behemoth truly was- it stretched on as far as the dense misty air would allow us to see. The rain gave the ice a deep blue sheen, and kept it smooth and reflective- it was really quite breathtaking, not counting the loss of feelings in limbs.

As we reached the pinnacle of our journey up this insultingly large slab of ice, I saw something that I really didn’t expect to: a parrot. To be precise, it wasn’t just any parrot, but a Kea (or Kia), the world’s only alpine parrot. It was a dark brown color, with red wings that were tucked away and invisible as it sat on the ice. It stared us down, and seemed to take a liking to me. As I was in a staring contest with this strange feat of the ornithological world, our guide mentioned that the Kea is a very smart animal. It will find the backpacks of hikers, undo the clips with its beak, grab the lunchbox, open it, and help itself to the tasty morsels inside. My personal theory is that if a bird can open a lunchbox and get to my midday meal, it deserves it. Anyway, as the Kea eventually flew away (displaying those beautiful red feathers) we began our descent. It is here that I got ambushed, even if only verbally.


A Kea. (This one is my photograph)


I have a friend named Andrew from Canada- and I never let him forget it. I poke fun at him all the time for being Canadian, for no good reason. He knows it is a joke, and he goes at me too, but he is normally outnumbered. Well here, on this slab of ice (where else?) he found another Canadian named Monique, and the tables quickly turned. On the way down I was ganged up upon- the jokes came so fast that I couldn’t keep up- and we all quickly began to like this new Canadian. We ended up hanging out with her for the rest of the afternoon. That night we went to the (only) bar in town and played some free pool, and saw whom else but that group of Americans from Castle hill. It really is a small world (in New Zealand). Turns out they know some of the Americans at our University in Hamilton as well.

Day 43- Saturday: Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Rohan

Please pardon the delay on this- actually, the writing isn't what took me so long: the pictures are. The loading has been super annoying. Enjoy, won't you?

Also, about the map. Every light red section is the travel for the day; the maroon is the travel so far on the trip. Light red circles are where we stopped for the night.

The past 2 weeks have been one of indescribable surprise and adventure. This promises to be a ridiculously long post, so grab a pot of coffee, put on your comfy slippers, and settle in- it’s going to be a long winter’s tale.

This was Day 1 of our actual journey around South island. We had flown into Christchurch the day before, as was detailed in my last post. After waking up and leaving what we began to affectionately call ‘home base’, we fueled up on petrol and hit the road. As we were about to leave the city (of 360,000, the largest population center on the entire island), we came to a thought. We wanted to hike glaciers more than anything, but they were last on our list. Chances were that if we hit any delays we would end up without enough time to hit the glaciers; so, on the verge of leaving town, we made a simple plan amendment- we turned left instead of right. By making this choice, we now switched our entire route for the first week on its head- our first stop was now our last, and vice versa. What did this mean for us? It meant we were to drive through the heart of the mountains, straight through the South Island.

And what a drive it was. Imagine driving on a straight road, with plains on either side of you. Everything is flat, except for the massive byproducts of geological uplift in front of you. You are staring at the Southern Alps, a formidable mountain range that spans most of the South island. Those that live near the Rockies would look upon these peaks and barely gaze- they are not as large as that good ol’ mountain range back home- however, they are much larger than the Appalachians, and desolate. These mountains have almost no growth on them. The reason for this is something that is known as the ‘rain shadow effect’.

The rain shadow effect is a weather phenomenon that actually is very simple. As moisture comes in from the sea (or anywhere) and meets a mountain, it does one thing: rise. As the moist air rises, it cools (higher heights = cooler air, of course). Cooler air holds less moisture than warmer air, so it begins to condense and form clouds. The scientific term for this (if anyone cares) is adiabatic cooling. If the mountains aren’t very high, these clouds will condense but can get over the peaks. If the mountains are high enough, however, the clouds will continue to rise to try and get over the peak, until the air can no longer hold the moisture, and it precipitates. The Southern Alps are in this second category- the result is immense amounts of rain on one side, and perpetual dryness on the other. We were just entering in on the dry side of the range.

We began our journey through the mountains, and immediately were hit by a few things:
1. They were empty. There were no houses, no hotels, McDonalds, bathrooms, or stores. We would have to drive through the entire mountain range before we even hit a gas station.
2. Technology stopped. Cell phone, radio, all reception stopped. In North Carolina at least, most mountains have radio towers to transmit cell, TV and radio signals to mountain towns. This is not the case in New Zealand. I would find as the week went on that cell service would be a luxury.
3. Everything was smaller here. The highway we were driving on was a main road, but it was only one lane either way. This was a shock, even though I had been in New Zealand over 6 weeks. This main highway was literally as wide as my neighborhood street back home! As we passed through the mountains we would later find that most bridges were only one lane- one side had to yield to the other. Occasionally, these one lane bridges not only accommodated 2 opposing lanes of traffic, but also the trains- it is the first time that I can remember driving on train tracks, thinking ‘oh God, oh God, please don’t let there be a freighter on the other end of this bridge’.

After a few minutes of driving, the car had become quiet. The wisecracks and small talk that had possessed us as we were heading to the hills had ceased to exist. The only word uttered out of our mouths for about 3 hours was simply ‘wow’. I will not attempt to convey here the beauty that beheld us- nothing can. Pictures fall short- video is insufficient. Words are pitifully weak in this field as well. All I can say is, well, wow. I was naïve on that first day- I thought that this would be the most beautiful part of the trip.

A few hour into the mountain pass (known as Arthur’s pass, though I don’t know why they even bothered to name it, as it is basically the only pass through the Southern Alps), we got sick of not stopping to catch fantastic views of mineral lakes so blue they looked fake- we decided to take a small pit stop and catch some sights. We were making good time, after all, and hey, that is what we were here for in the first place. We pulled off at the last moment into a place called castle hill. Boy, did we choose well.

Castle hill, or castle rocks (depending on what map you use) is a limestone outcrop in the middle of a mass of mountain peaks. This picture is but a small representation of everything there- the place was wonderful- I wish we could have stayed for an entire day. The area is a series of large limestone formations, some of which are the size of boulders, some of which are much larger. Inside many of these (or in between the) rocks are tunnels that run between them, allowing easy access through seemingly impassible areas.

The closest thing I can relate this place to is Rohan from Lord of the Rings. I know I have said it before, but I will once again defend my claim that these movies are some of the best ways to get to know the geology of New Zealand. The most accurate representation is in movie 2 where Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli are chasing after the orcs carrying the hobbits. As much as it makes me cringe to make these comparisons (believe it or not, I did NOT come here to see where the films were shot), they are precise and do give the reader a good idea of what these areas look like.

On these rocks we met a pair of Germans and a few Americans- the Americans were heading the same place we were- Franz Joseph Glacier. We exchanged pleasantries and went on our way.

After another few hours, we noticed more vegetation on the hills and countryside- the area must get more rain. We saw a gradual, and then a very sudden change into a very wet environment. As we rounded a mountain, we essentially had our entire panoramic view changed in an instant. The mountains went from dry and desolate to alive and very, very wet. Waterfalls began to appear- and as we drove into the western side of the mountains, we began to hit clouds. The skies quickly turned from bright blue to overcast. The scene had changed totally- we had gone from scrub mountain range to rain forest in minutes.

When we arrived in Franz Joseph in the late afternoon, we had a look around town before arriving at our backpacker’s lodge. What we encountered was a town of about 300 people. It was really more of a village than a town- there was one gas station and half of a supermarket- there wasn’t a police station, fire house, library, courthouse, or anything else that one might think important in a town of any respectable size. The person who made and delivered pizza in town also was in charge of the Internet café and the town’s laundry services. All in all, the town was charming. It was also situated in the middle of the rainforest.

New Zealand has rain forests, but they are not what most people think. These are temperate rain forests- they aren’t tropical, but boast a wide variety of flora and fauna. Rain is a certainty, as you can imagine. It rained every moment we were there, but it was still beautiful. The mountains were continuously capped in clouds, so their true height could never be determined. They were majestic and mysterious- in a word, captivating.

As soon as we got out of the car, I heard the most beautiful bird call in my life. I would hear it quite often whenever we went into the bush in the next week. We got our accommodation, and went into our room. As we got there, we realized something strange- above our room was the sign ‘fire exit’. Peculiar, I thought. Turns out that our room WAS a fire exit- the sign in the room labeled the main exit out the front door. The secondary exit? The window. We were on the second floor.