Scenic Dash, Friendly Crash

Sunday 2 July – Friday 7 July 2000

From the Caitlins we drove further west, still along the coastal road passing through Invercargill (not particularly inspiring) and then north to Te Anau.  This was our gateway to Fjordland, with its huge lakes and stunning mountains.  We spent the night in Te Anau, along the shore of the lake (the second largest in New Zealand), then boarded a boat and bus to the start of the fjord, where we took another boat.  It was a bright sunny day and the views were out of this world.  Dark, deep blue water, craggy cliffs sloping down to the water’s edge covered in thick vegetation and in the distance, the stunning backdrop of snow capped mountains. It was glorious. Dolphins swam with us, diving in and out of the water alongside the boat and as we reached the sea, a colony of seals basked on the rocks in the sun.  Even the power station where we stopped on the way down was interesting, although not perhaps as inspiring for photos. 

We arrived back from our day on the fjords tired but exhilarated and inspired.  After stopping overnight again in Te Anau, we continued to head north, driving along the shores of Lake Wakatipu and stopping off in Queenstown.  Our journey times seemed to be increasing daily although the ground we covered didn’t.  But with so many photo opportunities and so many new and stunning vistas every time we rounded a bend, it was hardly surprising.  After passing through yet more stunning scenery, mostly consisting of hairpin bend climbs up mountains and around lakes, we arrived in Wanaka, a quaint but popular ski town with a lot more character than touristy Queenstown.  Once again, this was just a stopover and first thing the next morning, we were back on the road heading northwest across the mountains before starting our descent back to the coast.

The Haast region, leading up to crossing point over the mountains, is the centre of a major wildlife refuge where some of the biggest stands of rainforest survive alongside some of the most extensive wetland areas.  It was yet another staggeringly beautiful place, with many picturesque waterfalls.  As the road descends down to the coast, the landscape changed yet again, now a rugged land of wild, pebbled and rocky beaches and bush-covered hills sweeping up to towering icy peaks.  We had headed here to see the two glaciers, Fox and Franz-Josef, two of New Zealand’s major attractions.  Once again, this was a first time for both of us and we were intrigued to see for ourselves these unique sights: two mighty rivers of ice tumbling down valleys to the sea.

The more impressive of the two glaciers is the Franz-Josef.  Driving up, small signs by the side of the road (“in 1968 the glacier was here”) act as a marker system giving a sense of how much the glacier has advanced and retreated over the years.  It is possible to actually walk on the glacier and there are several outdoor adventure companies that offer guided trips, but for a 7 month pregnant woman who had trouble keeping her balance this did not seem a good idea, so we stuck to the hike up to the glacier face.  This in itself proved challenging with small rivers to cross and large boulders to navigate.  But it was worth it.  As we approached the glacier face, huge signs warned of falling ice and barriers kept you well away from the massive sheer wall.  It was an amazing sight.  In parts the ice was blue, reminding us of the glacier we had seen in the middle of the Gobi desert in Mongolia, but in others it was brown and dirty, carrying with it stones and rubble it had picked up on its journey down the valley.  It was amazing to contemplate this incredible phenomenon and wonder where it would have advanced (or retreated) to in 10 or 100 years time.

With only a two days remaining before we were due to fly back to Auckland, we began making plans to start heading east towards Christchurch.  Once again, we would have to cross the mountains but this time, there were snow and ice warnings and as night began to fall, we decided to stop at Arthur's Pass for the night before continuing on the following morning.  The drive through the pass was another visual overload of scenery.  More high, snow-capped peaks, more forests and more staggeringly beautiful waterfalls.  Beyond the pass, the landscape flattened out and the last part of the drive into Christchurch proved to be dull in comparison to the scenes of natural beauty to which we were now accustomed.

But the excitement and adventure were not quite over.  Relieved to have finally arrived into Christchurch, we located the rental car company and began to head in the direction of the town centre in order to return the car and find somewhere to spend the night.  Eric, to his credit, had done an amazing job driving back and forth across the country on totally the wrong (for him) side of the road.  His one weakness however, seemed to be the roundabout phenomenon and giving way to the right, something that was totally against his nature.  And so, after all the hundreds of miles we had covered, unscathed and without a single mechanical hitch and now within two miles of the rental company, what should happen but a car crash.  Nothing fatal, just a collision on a roundabout that brought traffic to a standstill, recovery vans appearing from nowhere and the cultural highlight of our trip to New Zealand.

Get in a car crash in the US and you worry you’ll get sued, or at the very least, sworn at and possibly even physically threatened.  But do it in New Zealand and the people you crash into worry that nobody is hurt and by the end of the entire ordeal exchange e-mail addresses with you so they can keep in touch.  And as for the police, well, they may be kind enough to wave the customary ticket and even give you a lift to your hotel.  What a mighty civilized country this was.

The majority of our sightseeing time in Christchurch was taken up sorting out insurance issues with the car rental company and writing up accident reports, but what little we did see we enjoyed.  All too soon, however, we were on a flight back to Auckland where we had another night’s stop over at the Peace and Plenty.  We were joined by Frank and Mike (the two divers Eric had met in Santo, Vanuatu, diving the SS President Coolidge) as well as Mike’s wife and spent a wonderful evening with the three of them recounting our tales of woe and reflecting on what a great decision it had been to spend a little more time in their fascinating country.

Samoa

Sunday 9 July 2000

With all the changes to our itinerary since leaving Vanuatu, Samoa was reduced to a one night stopover before we left the Pacific islands for good and headed for Hawaii.  We were intrigued by the small cultural insights we did manage to get, mostly observing life through the windows of our taxi on the ride to and from the airport and on that basis alone intend to return one day.  But for now, our overriding memories?  Well, for Eric the great pizza place we managed to find (right opposite our hotel, no less) and for Pippa, the Samoan’s fale (traditional house), a one roomed building with a roof and totally open sides so everyone can see in.  Where did they change clothes?