Everywhere you venture on South Island there’s another spectacular view, another inspiring vista, another unusual sight to capture your attention just when you thought you’d seen the best.
Case in point.
A few days later, we stumbled upon another fabulous sea view. We booked a room overlooking the sea in Paparoa National Park at the Punakaiki Rock Villas. Through our picture windows a view of the churning sea at sunset could be seen almost as far as Tasmania, we joked. Lush magenta hydrangeas and brilliantly hued coastal flowers formed colorful contrasts to the muted gray beach seascape beyond. We would have loved to have remained longer in that resort, but the next day’s destination beckoned.
Just around the bend from this ultra modern motel, the next morning we arrived at Pancake Rocks in Paparoa National Park. A scenic walk along the seacoast at the famous rocky cliffs presents hikers with several changing environments in quick succession. First you walk through a lush tropical rain forest habitat where a profusion of delicate ferns—crown, horseshoe, bracken and tree-- line the path, accompanied by spiky tall yucca plants and other abundant tropical vegetation. You admire brilliant green, pink and purple ferns glistening with dew from a light rain the night before and palm trees featuring huge lime-colored bulbs high above with outgrowths of peculiar spider plants sprouting on the trunks.
Shortly, the rainforest walkway ends and you exit onto a panoramic view of sea and sienna hued rocky cliffs. Thin layers of limestone and mudrock are stacked up like huge pancakes forming sharp cliffs along the coast, rising from a turbulent sea below. These multi-layered pancake-like cliffs were formed by millions of years of changing climate, the scenic overlook signs tell you along the walk You stroll over suspension bridges, stopping frequently to gaze at the waves far below as they surge up through odd-shaped openings in the rocks and crash in huge rhythmic patterns spraying up through blowholes in the rocks.
It was just another amazing day in New Zealand.
By the next day, however, to my dismay, I discovered that not only ferns grow along Pancake Rocks. Somewhere on that tropical rain forest walk I had touched poison ivy! Several deep scratches had blossomed overnight into full-blown itching poison ivy on my neck. I have to say this was my most negative experience in New Zealand, but I managed to deal with it without too much discomfort.
From Pancake Rocks we headed inland once more crossing the Southern Alps. Finally, we had made it to Motueka on the northwest corner of the island. This was the place Daryl’s daughter had praised for its sunny weather. Our stay was short-lived! Why? A huge storm with gale force winds and heavy rain arrived just as we did. We recalled the old NZ weather saying that if it’s storming on the east coast, it’s sunny on the west on the South Island.
After staying one night in Motueka at the nice mom and pop (what else) Equestrian Motel, there was no question. We determined to head back to what we hoped would be sunnier climes on the west coast. That decision led us to the inland resort of Hanmer Springs. At this family oriented thermal springs spa we stopped to “take the cure,” as they say in Victorian novels. It was refreshing and helped us maintain a hard-driving pace back over the mountains to Cape Foulweather on the west coast once again.
We actually had an important reason to head back to the West Coast. In the U.S. while our plotting our itineraries, we had booked passage on the TransAlpine Scenic Railway. We had reserved tickets for the day before we were due to depart the South Island. This railroad trip from Greymouth on the west coast to Christchurch on the east is dubbed one of the most scenic railroad rides in the world, and we couldn’t pass it up. In addition, it meant we could sit in the comfort of a luxury train looking out at spectacular scenery rather than drive as we returned over Arthur’s Pass on our way back to Christchurch.
The scenic train trip was all it was touted to be. We crossed the Canterbury plains with its rich farmland, traveled through 16 tunnels, chugged over an enormous viaduct, marveled once more over beautiful snow-capped mountains and tranquil lakes. We also noticed for the first time a great abundance of yellow gorse—an obnoxious weed that regenerates three times a year and is crowding out everything in its path. That, along with the stout, a nasty little rodent, and the omnipresent possum, is causing untold damage to the land, we had learned when talking to a naturalist the week before. Along with our unsuccessful search for a kiwi, we never sighted either a stout or a possum.
By late afternoon we came to what I considered to be the piece de resistance of the entire four-and-a-half hour 231-km train ride, the Waimakariri Gorge. The train winds along the ridge of this deep canyon gorge formed by an ice-fed river that ends at the sea north of Christchurch. For mile after mile, you peer far down into this deep cut in the earth, catching glimpses of silvery white foam as the dark water dashes up and around semi-submerged rocks and snakes its way through narrow passages on its way to the sea.
I would recommend this scenic ride to anyone who takes the slightest interest in memorable train journeys.
Our adventures on the South Island were almost ending. But we had one last treat saved for our final day in Christchurch. It was well worth waiting for.
I can only describe the Antarctic Research Center as an extraordinary, virtual reality expedition into the geography and environment of the frozen continent. It comes complete with penguins, snowmobile rides, high tech sound and light shows, interactive exhibits and a chillingly real first-hand chance to almost precisely experience how it feels to be outdoors on the Antarctic continent in a –5 degree blizzard. You do this vicariously, of course, with a parka supplied by the center for those who dare enter a specially constructed glass room. There the temperature is controlled gradually until bitterly cold winds simulate a full-scale Antarctic storm. Kids loved it. We decided to pass on the experience.
On the other hand, we couldn’t turn down the chance to ride on the Hagglund, the official Antarctic all-terrain amphibious vehicle. People said it was not for the faint-hearted, and before we were strapped into the heavy bucket seats, we were warned to hang on for dear life. That was excellent advice!
We climbed into the front of the massive tank-like vehicle with the driver so we could enjoy the full panoramic scare of seeing the tough Antarctic terrain as we rode. As we plunged straight down a perpendicular rutted dirt road sliding into freezing water and got bumped and jarred and pummeled back and forth in the seat, I told myself this ride was a monumental mistake. But we survived and relished every moment of our simulated trek on the icy continent via all-terrain terror tank.
I recommend the ride to anybody who loves scary roller coaster rides.
[Go to New Zealand Part Ten]
