New Zealand's Stunning West Coast

First and foremost, sunny weather makes me a crappy blogger.

Sorry.

More importantly, we recently had an amazing trip to the west coast. New Zealand's west coast (of the south island) is super remote. In it's 9,000 square miles, it's home to only about 32,000 people. Less than 4 people per square mile!

Which is exactly what it felt like when we pulled up to our bach near this beach:

Where is everybody? Wait, I don't care!

Let me take a moment to explain why the photos in this post (and presumably many future posts) are such low resolution and/or directly pilfered from my Instagram: the camera broke.

Well that didn't even take a moment.

Moving on. The desolate beach, looking back at the baches:

Ugly, eh?

Our whole plan to visit the west coast was relatively last minute, so we only had 2 nights. We shot over after a short day of work Friday, just in time to enjoy the Cape Foulwind seal colony. I assume the cape gets it's name from frequent stormy weather... but let me tell you, when many seals get together and you are downwind... the name may be a double entendre.

We hiked well above the seals and enjoyed the views. And some bread and cheese. And the most horrible beer I've ever had in my life. (It was on sale, and from Russia, so I deserved it.)

Anyways, Cape Foulwind:

Isn't New Zealand's west coast already the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?!

We watched the sun set, and grabbed amazing burgers (and GOOD beer) at the local tavern. The west coast is rugged, and so are it's people. Sure there's fancy places to eat (like one), but when in Rome... order a beer and play pool.

In the morning we drove south, on route to a cave hike, but stopped first at this amazing little beach. Well, stumbled upon really.

I hate photos that do no justice. This is doing no justice.

We walked along the beach to a rocky bluff, lured over by the sight of a small bridge connecting two massive outcroppings, like the entrance to a castle.

Ok, not so castle like... but from afar!

Back in the car, we drove south another 40 minutes or so to the Paparoa National Park. Oh, what beautiful mountains... Anyhow, I had read about a hike to Fox Cave in the ever trusty guide book. The page has been folded down for a few years, and there's even highlighter mark presumably from our honeymoon... so it was about time to check it out!

The hike started innocently enough. After about 30 minutes though, we lost the trail. Or rather, the trail went directly into the river, but we followed a small scramble-track for at least 30 minutes straight up the side of a mountain. I can only assume this track is for local hunters or scientists, and it was quite cool, but when we were 110% sure we were on the wrong path (and no longer certain where we even were) we turned back.

This time we took our shoes off and forded the river like good Kiwi hikers on a gentle stroll. (Note to self: go barefoot at all times for tougher soles, riverbeds hurt!)

Back on track, we started ascending again but this time with frequent trail markers. The trail itself started getting quite cool, with big mossy rocks and small waterfalls about.

Yep, you're looking at the trail, not the scenery. Well, both I guess.

Once we reached the cave, I really had no idea what we were looking at at all:

The problem with a lot of the most amazing things in New Zealand (i.e.: Oparara Arches) is they are so difficult to capture on camera, let alone camera phone. The scale of these particular wonders is pretty much impossible to get without mega-equipment, distance, maybe even a helicopter!

So alas, photos that would probably be better left to the imagination. The one above is the "lower cave" ceiling. I loved the moss growing on it, but in this quality it doesn't look like much at all!

Below, the "upper cave". Don't see it? Don't worry, we could barely work out where we were supposed to go until we got there. That rock in the foreground of the photo is actually a path, which leads up to the cave, the crevice in the top half of the picture.

So exploring Fox Cave is everything I love about New Zealand. It was free. It was a little bit dangerous. It was not dumbed down with railings and wide trails. And it was incredible.

This cave is passable for the keen spelunker for around 600 meters. The first 20 meters or so are completely walkable, but after that it's a hands-on experience. Good light and good footwear is imperative. As we got deeper in the cave, the experience was more like bouldering, and eventually it becomes wet. And cave water is cold, let me tell you. 

The one thing about this magnificent place being open to the public is that it is not pristine. Stalactites and stalagmites take millions of years to form, yet human traffic through the cave during the last 50 years has caused immense damage. That being said, overhead and in many nooks and crannies, one can see the beauty of untouched cave decor. It's amazing.

I know you know, but again, sorry about photo quality...

Scott looking back towards the entrance.

Looking up in a small space.

Pitch black cave selfie!

We spent 20-30 minutes clambering in the cave before we reached deeper (not too deep, but too cold!) water and decided to turn back.  Walking out of the cave felt like walking out of the grocery store on a summer day, let me tell you! The world is a hot, humid place compared to the guts of a cave!

Guarding the entrance

Following the cave adventure and then some wine on the beach, we drove back north. We stopped briefly about a place I'd read about in the guide book as being a cool spot to stop. 

Joyce Bay and Constant bay are "twin bays" near Charlston, NZ. On the map, it looks like the cartographer (map maker) accidentally hit copy-paste on the coast and plunked the same bay down twice. Anyways, we checked them both out. They were both very pretty. And difficult to tell apart.

Which bay is she? Constant? Joyce? Constant? No, Joyce. Bays that understand #twinproblems.

Part of our original plan had been to go out at dusk on the search for a great spotted kiwi. (Did you know that the great spotted kiwi, the largest of all kiwis, can grow to be 45cm tall and weigh 3.3kg - over 7 pounds! Who knew?!)

As the time came, we sort of realized with the kiwi population being what it is (scarce) and our utter lack of knowledge of where to even look (besides the obvious: mountains, forest), and being that we were currently on the beach thus facing and hour or more drive at dinner time.... we scrapped the plan.

I'd like to note that the plan is not permanently scrapped, and there is a company that will take you out in the wild to a known kiwi breeding area so that you can spot one in the wild (well, 91% of the time, allegedly). So the plan is on hold, with better... planning.

Our revision was to return to Cape Foulwind where we had seen signs for little blue penguin crossing. Penguins are most commonly spotted at dusk or just before, cruising up to their burrows, sometimes several hundred meters from the ocean.

Perfect, we though. Except. It's penguin-molting season. And apparently, when they molt, they never actually leave their burrows.

So, foiled again. But we looked anyways, and enjoyed the sunset and another moment which felt so similar to several others on this trip: like nothing could be more beautiful in the world. At least, at that moment.

I know you were worried... there hasn't been one mention of bikes! No, no, we'd never leave the kids bikes at home! What if they missed us?

On our last morning we revisited Denniston Plateau, a place we went last time we were on the west coast, but were forced to abandon due to poor weather.

This time we had great weather. Unfortunately, the trails are a bit difficult to find. We were on and off several different ones (color coded, "how did we get on red?" "Were we going for blue?" "Why has that sign got a rainbow on it, what does that mean?"). So we spent a fair amount of time wondering if we were missing the good stuff, but we still had good fun.

I took a few photos of Scott on some unexpectedly gnarly sections of trail:

Ok, way steeper in person than it looks here!

Ok, also way steeper in person- but look at that "trail!"

And he took one of me during our brief time on Mars:

After our ride and lunch, time started chasing us. We both had to work early in the morning, but had no desire to leave. It was arguably the nicest day we'd had yet (ok, every single one was perfect) and we felt no rush. We drove in a leisurely way down the coast towards Greymouth, where we would have to turn inland. We stopped several times, and on one stop I snapped this:

Camera phone or not, is this not the most beautiful place you've ever seen?! I know!!!

Now I just need to be philosophical for a moment here.

There are hard things about living abroad. Missing family and friends goes without saying. Missing places, food, certain ways of life. Leaning new cultures, etc. There's challenges, but a lot of it is why you move.

But the hardest thing for me about living in New Zealand is this: the longer I live here, the more I realize that I can never see it all. And this is a place you want to see all of. Or at least I do. I will never tire of the ferns, the rivers, the glaciers. I can't see one too many dramatic mountains, hear too many native birds, or tire of the smell of the beech forest.

Every time we travel, whether it be an hour-long drive to Akaroa, or across the island, we see signs. They're usually yellow, and always point down a dirt road. Waterfall. Gorge. River. Outlook. Scenic Route. (This one always kills me, because every road is the scenic route.) We're always enroute to somewhere, and though we can occasionally stop and explore, we often can't, and we certainly couldn't see them all.

We've been in New Zealand for two years and I've realized this: I'm never going to get enough. I don't know how long we're going to stay here, and I get excited about all kinds of other opportunities around the world. But be it 2 more months or 2 more years, or a lifetime... It would be impossible to see it all. It's something I have to learn to be okay with, as a part of my heart now belongs to New Zealand's little side roads.

This road popped up on our left just a few moments before we needed to turn inland and end our journey. We were chasing sun and pressed for time and it was gated off. But this time we stopped anyways, and walked, and threw rocks in the river, and marveled at the cliffs, and chased dragon flies and enjoyed a moment of unplanned happiness.

And then we happily drove home.

Road Trip Round Up: The North of the South, Days 7-10

So for two reasons I'm going to finish up Kim and Kristen's road trip in one succinct post:

A) It's Christmas Eve. If I don't do it now, it's never going to happen. Too much other cool stuff is going on.

B) My photos are limited because the weather was limiting.

Without further ado, my final map.

If any of you actually take the time to look at my maps (Look at my map! So many minutes go into these maps!) you may notice the problematic text just north of Christchurch. Woodend, to be specific, is where I put a full tank of diesel fuel in my petrol run VW Golf. I have 28 reasons why it's not my fault that this happened, but the fact of the matter is that it happened.

Luck seemed to be on my side, after it wasn't on my side, and this incident happened at a garage (instead of just a fuel stop). So we pushed poor little Red into the garage, where the darling 75-year old mechanic judged me (silently, but harshly) then quickly got to work. He instructed Kim and I to "Go for a walk", which if you've ever been to Woodend, NZ (think Willows, California), you'll know is short and not exactly scenic.

Walk we did, and about an hour later little Red was back in action. Plus, the mechanic only charged me $70 to pump the tank, which in NZD, is practically free. We bought him a respectable bottle of Merlot Reserve, then got on the road before he could change his mind. 

The drive from Christchurch to Collingwood, with one lunch stop, one fuel stop, one pee break, and driving rain, is 8 hours. It's merciless. And it's my fault. I thought, Let's show Kim the far side of Golden Bay! I've heard it's amazing! I've never been! We only have 2 nights, and it's really far away! Perfect! In retrospect, totally would have just stayed in Nelson.

When we finally arrived, we scouted out our little piece of paradise, our bach:

Exciting, huh?

This leg of the road trip really made up for how amazingly everything worked out on the first leg. This time around, the weather was vapid. We were complete failures when it came to organizing our food situations. And it felt like we spent eternity in the car.

I had booked two really cute little baches, one for two nights (pictured above) near Collingwood, and the other for one night (not worth picturing) in the Marlborough Sounds. The thing about secluded baches deep in the natural Kiwi landscape is this: they are not near supermarkets and they are not near restaurants.

I mean, obviously. I knew this. But it wasn't convenient for me, so I kind of just ignored this fact until we were there, starving, isolated, exhausted, and still starving. So after our 8 hour drive, we got back in the car and drove 20 minutes to the nearest food. Battered and fried food. Didn't even care.

The day after The Drive, we headed over to the north side of Abel Tasman National Park and yet again used the trusty guidebook to find three cool things.

Cool Thing 1: Wainui Falls and Swing Bridge, Golden Bay, NZ

Just what it sounds like, a 20-30 minute hike through beautiful rainforest, across a spectacularly Kiwi swing bridge, to a stunning waterfall. Exactly what we drove all that way to see!

So much higher than it looks... 

Back on the road, looking out over Golden Bay:

Cool Thing 2: Limestone outcroppings, called "The Grove", Takaka, NZ

We stopped in the grove for a picnic, then took our wine hiking with us. Conventional? No. Perfect? Yes.

The limestone features here and in this area are pretty impressive, worn into bizarre shapes and groups by wind and acidic water. These plus the ferns make for some dramatic Jurassic Park looking scenery.

Wine hikes are the best hikes.

Cool Thing 3: Rawhiti Cave, Takaka, NZ

This was a 45+ minute hike straight up the side of a hill, ending at the most impressive showing of stalactites that I've ever seen. Allegedly there are more than 1 million stalactites in this cave!

Following the cave adventure, we searched for edible food and wi-fi (both rare yet possible) and then took a takeaway pizza with us to what is supposed to be one of the most amazing beaches in New Zealand.

Wharariki Beach. This beach is really decorated. The guidebook said something about this beach "being an orgy of amazingness", or something like that. It gets 5/5 stars on Trip Advisor. It's Google image search looks like this:

source

source

 So imagine our surprise, when we roll up to this beach with our pizza and wine, and we are greeted with 100km winds, a bajillion seagulls, and this:

Cool beach guys. Looks exactly like the photos.

We ate our sandy pizza as fast as humanly possible, while being dive-bombed by seagulls and blinded by razor sharp sand wind. Good times.

After our relaxing time at the best beach in the world, we treated ourselves to a pint of beer at the ONLY bar for a 50km radius, then I'm pretty sure we went to bed while it was still light out.

The following morning we got the hell out of cold and rainy Golden Bay got a refreshingly early start on another day of driving. To break it up, we stopped for a little lunch and wine tasting in Montueka and Nelson.

Cool clouds, no?

 Unfortunately, the following photo is the only one I have from the next 24 hours. It is the view from our 2nd bach.

Basically, we ate, then we drove, then we ate, then we drove. We slept, then we drove, then we ate, then we drove. We did stop for some wine tasting (again) in Blenheim, but no photos happened, and they're all about the Sauvignon Blanc, so I don't have that much to say about that. 

What was completely unexpected, however, was that we left Picton in the rain, and as we drove south it got hotter and sunnier, and hotter, and sunnier. By the time we got to Kaikoura it was 30 degrees (86 F) and just stunning. I've never actually seen Kaikoura in the summer or sun, so it was a great treat.

Another treat was that there were still just a few baby seals playing in the waterfall pool. What? Does that sound completely cute yet totally made up?! It's not. Every winter, dozens of baby seals are left, basically at baby seal daycare, in a pool at the base of a waterfall. Scenic and adorable! Sound familiar? I posted about it here last winter.

Anyways, no photos of that (shocking!), but I'll leave you with a few of the beautiful, dramatic ocean scenery of Kaikoura:

And with that, it was finished. We drove the final 2 hours to Christchurch, and the weather turned back to pelting rain and 10 degrees (50 F). We'd come to expect as much from the weather, and decided just to be grateful for the gem of an afternoon we were handed in Kaikoura.

I had booked both baches based on the fact that they had kayaks, but it was never warm enough, or still enough to be safe to go out for a paddle. I had hoped to show Kim the jewel colored water from the tree fern paths in Abel Tasman, but it was gray and misty every day we were there. I had hoped for Tui birds, fantails, and maybe even a little blue penguin, but they were all too smart to come out in the weather we were having!

But with wine and pizza we persevered, enjoyed lots of beautiful scenery anyways, and lingered in Kaikoura, since the sun and ocean felt like a gift to us after all the rain. It was a great way to end our travels, and hopefully a sweet last memory for Kim to tuck away before hopping back on a plane to California!

Road Trip Days 5-6: Glaciers, Mountains, Lambs.

So last we left off... Queenstown, snow. Like, we woke to this:

Of course, Queenstown. At least you're pretty.

The following 2 days were probably our most active, yet had the most driving, and the most lambs.

We left Queenstown fairly early and drove over the hill to Wanaka, a one hour drive away. Better weather greeted us in Wanaka, and we found ourselves lounging for quite some time on the lakefront before finally going on our hike.

The drive to the Rob Roy Glacier hike is so beautiful that if you didn't know what you were going for, you'd feel like the drive itself was enough:

Around every corner a mountain, a waterfall, a lush valley with happy sheep.

The Rob Roy Glacier track starts out with pasture land, where hikers must brave the stares of cows and sheep as they pass by.

And lambs!

Soon though, you see a swing bridge and are reminded you are in fact in NZ.

We did this hike once before in much different conditions. Last time, the clouds were low and it was drizzling off and on. I still thought it was one of the most beautiful hikes I had done, but on my second time, with good weather, I was completely dazzled. The contrast of ferns and beech forest to glaciers and snow, blue sky and blue water... it's breathtaking.

After our hike, we drove back in to Wanaka for pizza and beer (thank goodness that's a meal you can get nearly anywhere in the world!) and then hit the road for Dunstan Downs.

Dunstan Downs is a high country sheep station. They have over 8,000 merino sheep on their 30,000+ acres of land near Omarama. The land here is rugged, but the sheep are tough, and the people warm and welcoming. Dunstan Downs is owned by Tim and Geva Innes, who run a farm stay (in their home) as well as a backpackers accommodation.

Kim and I stayed in their home, and Geva cooked us an amazing breakfast in the morning while she explained to us what really goes on year-round on a high country merino sheep station. (Hint: lots.)

After breakfast we got to meet her four lambs: Dora, Lily, Friday, and Halloween (the latter two named after their birthdays). Geva explained that each year she acquires a few lambs who have been mis-mothered: either mom has died giving birth, or she has up and left them. Apparently merino sheep are rather delinquent mothers, and every year Geva has a handful of baby lambs to bottle feed.

So, as expected, meeting and feeding the lambs was the best thing ever. And I want them all.

Friday, Lily, and Halloween.

Halloween

Breakfast time!

Ok, full disclosure. I made a lamb video. I know, who does that?

I do. Here's my lamb video... CLICK ME.

I'm soooo full......

So after Kim and I were torn away from left the baby sheep, we headed north to Mt. Cook. We revisited the Hooker Valley Walk, which Scott and I did nearly 4 years ago on holiday but haven't been back to see. I had forgotten, again, how beautiful this part of the country is.

Drive to Mt. Cook, view of Cook across Lake Pukaki

This hike is fairly easy. It's 2-3 hours round trip, but has a minimal gradient and a wide, new pathway. We passed lots of families and tramping groups, yet still managed to feel like the only ones there at many moments as well.

Kim on the swing bridge.

At the end of the trail, hikers are deposited at a lookout over Mt. Cook and the Mt. Cook glacier. The glacier is a dingy, dirty thing that dead ends in this glacial pool:

Kim: "Coldest my feet have ever been, ever."

Icebergs. (Thats the glacier int he middle/background.)

The rarely un-obscured peak of Mt. Cook

Cool cloud formations as the weather changed on our hike back.

Looking back one last time at Cook and the alpine flora.

Kim and I then returned to Christchurch. I had 4 days of work, while she ventured to the West Coast. She saw black water caves with glow worms, flew in a helicopter and landed on the glaciers, and tramped around the Punakaki Pancake rocks. I don't have her photos of these things or I would shamelessly share them with you. So I guess ya'll will just have to come see those things for yourself!