14-19 February, Akaroa through Christchurch

14-19 February, Akaroa to Christchurch

Banks Peninsula is an ancient volcanic cinder cone system. The cinders have had time to compress into a sandstone type rock. A few of the calderas weathered, collapsed and opened to the sea. This produced long narrow inlets combined with arid hills and valleys reminiscent of the eastern Washington and Oregon Cascades, the northern central California Sierra foothills or even the San Jose area; Dry arid hills sculpted by some ancient rains is the picture I’m trying to paint here. Before Europeans denuded the region it was forested by a variety of drought tolerant trees and shrubs. The Maori mostly had fishing settlements along the coastline.

French settlers entered the most seaward inlet and founded the village of Akaroa near the inner end. The inlet is about 20 kilometers long and maybe two to three kilometers wide. The shoreline is irregular and accessible. Nowadays the area is primarily a get-away community for Christchurch. Lots of tramps, bike trails, cafés, marinas, and very little fresh water…

We found an amazing little butcher shop in the village. JD threw together a nice little Valentines dinner: Minced lamb skewers with lightly spiced peanut sauce and garlic-venison-cherry sausages accompanied by garlic roasted veggies along with our last bottle of TeAwa pinotage. Roughing it is really not so bad… The real joy is that since tomorrow will be today in the states, we get to have Valentines again!

Had we mentioned the deer farms? There are numerous Red Deer farms throughout the country. Sometimes they share pasture with sheep and/or cattle, oftentimes they are in their own pasture. You can always tell the deer pasture by the really high fencing… domesticated venison is surprisingly delicate in texture and flavor. There is no similarity to wild venison “gaminess” or dryness. These deer don’t forage erratically or spend a lot of time running from predators.

Before dinner we worked up an appetite tramping out the Owena peninsula (JD thinks it is more of a hilly spit), which put us into Akaroa harbour. The hike brought us to a hillock with a stunning 360-degree view around the harbour. You need to time the hike to avoid high tide; otherwise you get to hang out for an extra hour or so waiting for the trail to reappear.

Less than 90 kilometers puts us into Christchurch. “The” city on the south island, Christchurch has a user-friendly layout, and a decent public transport system, and a bit of history and flavor. Our hostel is located just across from the botanical gardens and a large park. The botanical gardens have been incredible. You do have to give the British credit when it comes to long-term vision for gardens. Trees are planted with how they will look in the next century kept in mind. Kilometers of walking paths, sitting areas, monuments, and huge open spaces for picnics and events.

Kimberly has been plagued by a strong reaction to the sand fly bites of last week. Large angry itchy vesicles that make her somewhat insane and prevent her from sleeping have erupted across her hands and arms. She spoke to a local naturopath as well as researching a bit on line to confirm it was just a strong reaction. Topical itch lotions and a tea-tree oil relative to prevent infection if a vesicle opens up is all she can do until they go away. It can take two to four weeks. She is really not keen on sand flies at the moment… Most locals just say “Been on the west coast have you?” and nod knowingly.

We drive to Port Hills to check out the local climbing action. The climbing is on a group of outcrops on a ridge high above the city, yet only twenty minutes out. We left some mostly fine weather and drove up into a misty, howling 40mph wind and ambient 50 degree F nastiness. The rock has potential, grippy and solid, but the conditions really bite… We admire the view, quickly, and take a scenic drive back around to the city. We catch a movie, the cheap matinee was only $14.50 each, “Music & Lyrics”. Cute and funny to anyone over 35 who actually lived through the eighties.

Saturday is the first fine day we have had in weeks! A casual stroll through the botanical gardens, a quick jaunt in the museum, and a moment to watch some of the buskers performing. While catching up on local news and enjoying a mocha, two stories of tourist stupidity stand out:

Story one: over at the Franz Joseph glacier two tourists, an Aussie and New Caledonian, decided to cross three separate, well marked and large barriers, along with passing no less than twelve “Absolutely Do Not Enter, Death May Occur” signs to explore an ice cave at the base of the glacier terminus. Not surprisingly, part of the cave roof collapsed, partially crushing the one genius, and breaking the leg of the other. The broken legged Einstein managed to drag his buddy to the cave entrance. Certified guides on the “safer” trail along the glacier heard the cries for help and risked their own lives to rappel down and pull these idiots away from the cave entrance. The same cave entrance that continues to randomly drop assorted lethally sized ice chunks 24/7. The guides all agreed that none of them would have actually entered the cave to save these guys. No rescue service would have either. At least they weren’t Yanks…

The next story, while less dramatic, still makes you wonder what short circuits exist in certain brains. Remember our description of the tramps around Doubtful and Milford Sounds? Considered the most challenging and advanced tramps in a country that prides itself on the diversity and quantity of its hiking system. The shear inaccessibility of the trailheads alone prevents most trampers from even attempting these routes.

Quick background info: If you rent a locator beacon, similar to an avalanche beacon but with a longer range, you are “insured” for rescue should something unexpected happen. Fall into a crevasse or break a limb, get really lost, or whatever, press your “I’ve fallen and can’t get up” button and a helicopter with rescue team will be dispatched to pull your ass out of the fire. Cost is about $35-40 NZ.

OK, time for story #2: A woman of unknown nationality had been “rescued” from deep in the fiordland on the Milford Track with a blown knee. She and her companion both had beacons. Insurance doing its job, right? Nope- insurance abuse at its finest. Turns out the woman had just had major reconstructive knee surgery three weeks prior to this hike. Her doctors all told her no strenuous activity during rehab. I don’t know about anyone else, however I would consider attempting what is agreed to be the HARDEST HIKE IN THE ENTIRE COUNTRY a strenuous activity… While the rescue team was saving this person from herself, there could have easily been a real emergency that needed addressed. Heli’s are not cheap, nor are rescue professionals. Any time you are flying nap of the earth in a steep mountainous environment there is a measurable probability of something untoward happening.

We decided to check out the local nightlife for our last Saturday in country. Perusing a live music guide we found an indoor/outdoor pub with acoustic rock. There was a stag party in progress when we arrived. The groom-to-be was a fit twenty something whose mates dressed him up as “Borat”, with a mesh wife-beater T-shirt, short-short denim shorts, and one of those neon Japanese over-shoulder thong Mankini’s… He was having a very good time. A small group of Asian tourists came in and lost their minds when they saw him. The girls all surrounded this guy for photo ops with video, camera and camera phones. The party was highly entertaining, and JD was bummed that the one time his camera was not attached to his arm was the one time he really needed it… bummer mates, no pics of this evening. The next pub was another one of those surreal moments: Irish bar called Sullivan’s with an early Grunge looking band playing Johnny Cash covers.

Sunday we returned the rental car. No speed photos to date, nor any new dings or dents. Next to the airport is the International Antarctic Exhibition. They have a minus 25 C wind chill tunnel, a penguin rescue, and a number of informative and interactive Antarctic exhibits. Christchurch is the staging, support, and departure point for almost all of the Antarctic science and exploration teams from all nations.

One full day left and then we wind down our New Zealand trip. We have an O’dark thirty departure for Sydney on Tuesday morning.

More Photos: East Coast South Island

Trivial Tidbits and Impressions:

Kilometers Driven: 5,230
Photos Taken: 1,860
Hostels slept in: 20
TipTops eaten: 60 (30 each)
Longest drive: 420 kilometers
Sand Flies squashed: 10’s of thousands
Average gas price: $1.43NZ/liter ($5.43NZ/gallon, $4.07 US)
Populations of NZ: 4 million people, 40+ million sheep, 21 million cows
Average UV index: 11 (on a 0-12 scale)
Average air temp: North island: 25C (77F) South island: 18C (64F)
Days in country: 32


New Zealand is indeed a beautiful country. The people are friendly. It is called the land of the long white cloud for a reason. Here, as in Oz, the price you see is the price you pay. The exorbitant GST is built in automatically. Taxes are significant. All meat products are free range. Lots and lots of lush verdant grazing land. Produce has as much, if not more, chemistry on and in it as in the states. We had a blast, however it is time to move on to Oz.

09-13 February: Dunedin to Methvin

09-13 Feb Dunedin to Methvin

We are indeed feeling the post-kayak muscle awareness. JD has a few blisters on his thumbs, and KK is very aware of her traps. Clearly we are seriously buff specimens of humanity. Some of the archival fly bites are really starting to itch. They also form a hard and touch sensitive measle-like bump. Attractive. KK took first turn at he wheel for the drive to Dunedin. She really likes these southern roads. All gentle rolling hill farm country. They are “wide” (there is actually a 2 foot shoulder on each side of the road…) and have minimal traffic. Of course, there are also minimal towns, minimal toilets, and lots of mileage between TipTop ice-cream stands. The maps have little dots with names. These little dots do not always have a physical counterpart in the life-size world. We kept thinking the next village would have a toilet stop. (Almost all have a small public toilet somewhere along their main drag). Unfortunately there never were any next little villages. Farm communities everywhere have a similar profile. This patch of earth will be called Wendon, or Mable Bush, or Cragie Glen, just for a reference point to figure out how far the sheep wandered that day. “Oi!, Katy, the flock has spread all the way to Wee Darby. It’ll take a day to put ‘em back together! I’ll ring up Mick and have him run the dogs and his truck by Clinker Hill…” No real places, just marker points for the locals. (Similar to “make a left just before where Old Man Burns’ barn burned down in ’42)

We rolled into Dunedin around 2pm. A short easy 4 hour drive today. Dunedin was the original Scottish settlement on the South Island. It is built into the hillsides, is mostly cloudy and damp, and everything is made of stone. Ah, we feel at home. The city center is a double octagon, and all directions use The Octagon as a reference point. It is really quite lovely. It is also home to the Speight’s Brewery, and Cadbury Chocolate.

We are staying in an old rectory that was the Bishops residence in the early 1900’s. It is still surrounded by religious schools. It is called Hogwartz… With the innate ability to ignore the drizzle, we walk down the hill to explore the city center. We each only have one pair of long pants, and light spring jackets. It’s about 58 F. Brrrr. It seems like a perfect time to tour the Cadbury chocolate factory… Cadbury has been in Dunedin since the early thirties. The tour was aromatic and informative. They have three constant shifts. It takes 6 months to produce the New Zealand supply of Easter candy, which is consumed in less than a week. We got to wear hair coverings, and JD got to have a “snood” for his facial hair. Stunning. We ended up with a bag of free yummies, as well as a trip through the company store.

We shuffled over to the Speight’s brewery. It was surprisingly expensive, two beers $15.60 NZ! Tasty, but not that tasty… We then wandered into the Octagon to try another lively looking pub. This one had vodka, so KK ordered a Feijoa (Fu-joe-ah, or fee-joe-ah) flavored, shaken and up. We had the alien gibberish deer-in-the-headlight look from the bar gal. KK assumed she couldn’t be heard (there was some loud R&R on) so she repeated it loudly and slowly. The bar maid smiled vacuously and asked “so would you like that on ice?” JD, ever the international diplomat and interpreter, realized the international incident this communication disaster was about to unleash. (Coffee ordering we could get, heck people from Montana can’t necessarily order a coffee in Washington… but cocktails are shaken and served up in every western country that has distilled spirits!) Using advanced mime skills, pictograms (not unlike the ones pasted to the outside of Voyager 1) and single syllable words, made the unsuspecting bar gal understand a brand new method of serving a cocktail…

Anyway, Feijoa is a New Zealand fruit that is in season two to three weeks per year, can only be harvested when ripe, and lasts about 24 hours off the tree. Many people on the north island have a feijoa tree. A mature tree can produce over a thousand fruits with ease. By the end of “ripe” month you can’t pay someone to take your excess feijoa. The local papers have lists of feijoa recipes: cake, preserves, breads, stews, kebobs, face cream, enemas (ok, no fruit enemas…though I am sure it would work in southern California…), and hundreds of other things to do with your ripe feijoa. As a vodka flavor it is vaguely reminiscent of teaberry. The actual fruit, which we had as a preserve at Chris & Tina’s, is more citrus than teaberry, and had a slight buttery texture. It was quite delicious. A neighbor with a feijoa tree is like a neighbor who has planted too many squash and zucchini. They are happy to give away as much as you can carry.

Saturday we awake to a gray mist, and it’s not from morning breath. We are in Scotland! We haven’t yet seen Nearly Headless Nick, or Dumbledore, but we are looking… It’s cold and drizzly. Today we are off to watch a 15-band pipe & drum competition being held in the octagon. We also found a great internet café, with reasonably priced coffee and wireless. JD catches up on photo labeling, but can’t seem to get the blog interface working. It is a problem on Blogger’s end… It worked well enough to post, add photos, etc, it just wouldn’t save the work. An hour of WiFi time pissed away…

We have both finished our latest books and have been in search of replacements. The hostel book exchanges have not been fruitful here on the south island (More action junkies here, rather than the laid-back introspectors of the north island…). A newer paperback will set you back $25-$40 NZ… Yep up to $30 US for a paperback. We are, luckily enough, in a college town (30,000 students at Otanga University) so 2nd hand bookstores are all about.

We found a “discount” bookseller as well. KK decided since we are staying at Hogwartz, and the final book is out in July, to reread book 6 of Harry Potter. On sale it was only $19.90NZ.

Sunday had a weather shift: It was misty and gray, rather than gray ad misty… We spent the morning catching up on writing, staring at the walls, and otherwise being non-productive. We offered to take a couple of other wanderers out the Otanga peninsula to find some penguins.

Angelina was a young teacher from North Carolina; Simon was getting ready for grad school in Ohio. She had been a third grade teacher for a few years back in the states, and was now looking for a Kiwi to marry… She absolutely loved this country and really was not planning to leave. He starts school in March, and was getting his last sights in before he was off to Ohio. Angelina was one of those eternally happy people. She was so excited with our little jaunt, regularly exclaiming how this was “the best day ever!”. You could tell she meant it. We both think she approaches life with this attitude every single day. Not a bad way to view things at all. We have decided to have many more best days ever.

The Otanga peninsula runs about 45 kilometers out from Dunedin. The tip is home to the only mainland based giant albatross rookery in the world. It is also home to the largest wild population of the endangered yellow-eyed penguin, as well as recently re-established (returned after a 50-70 year absence…) Hooker sea lion breeding beaches. We enjoyed a scenic ride out, with the sun making cameo appearances. We left Dunedid in the late afternoon. The penguin’s return to the nesting grounds 2 hours or so before nightfall, currently around 7:45-8:00. The yellow-eyed are a skittish species, and the DOC (Seemingly the most powerful individual government department, the Department of Conservation, controls, directs and is responsible for over one third of the whole country…) has special tracks (trails) and blinds to watch the penguins from. If the returning birds see any movement on or near the beach, they won’t come out of the water. The blind is set up about 100 meters (Football field or so) from the nesting area, midway up on the side of a hill. Flash photography is discouraged because it freaks the birds out, and may cause them to abandon their nest(s). Non-professional flashes are not really useful past 10-15 feet, though easily seen for hundreds. The sun had been becoming less and less afraid, with a persisting wind hanging on at 25-35mph, and it was cold. Really cold. Almost snotsickle cold. Brrrrr. We patiently waited for over two hours, and did see three or four of the beasties. One of which was actually already hanging out on the hillside when we arrived. He hung out in the same spot. Every so often he would move his head to scratch his armpit (wingpit?). After an hour and a half, he “oozed” onto his belly. After a brief rest, he stood back up. Slow deliberate reps, the secret of physical fitness… Activity is additive.

JD missed having a really long lens on his camera (A mounted 1,000mm or 1600mm would have been perfect… Birthday hint?), and is depending on the file density to be able to find the birds in his photos. You be the judge…

We are able to slow down a bit now. A short drive, 120k, brought us to Omaru, a small seaside farming community. We stayed on a working hobby farm. Sheep and alpaca. Sheep were primarily for food, alpaca for fiber.

We learned that specific breeds of sheep drop hair naturally, while others need to be shorn. The hair droppers are meat sheep, while wool sheep get trimmed every nine months or so. Rams are almost always meat, as you only need one to “service” a large number of ewes. Kimberly wondered about the apparent “maleness” of the rams visually. No neuticals here… Baseballs maybe. JD felt that since a ram had lots to do during the fertile time it would need a larger supply depot… What Would Ira Say? (Ira is an east coast veterinarian friend whom we enjoy calling late at night with all sorts of critter questions…)

I don’t think I had mentioned the one real negative to our mouse powered muscle car: The radio is Japanese. Made in Japan is not the issue. It is set for Japanese frequencies… Here, as well as in Oz and North America, FM band reception covers from the mid 80’s to around 107.9. It utilizes the odd numbers 96.5, 98.3, 102.5, etc. This radio covers 70.0 to 90.0, in one step increments. Unless a station is at the “bottom” of the dial, we get nothing…

This being said, we have found New Zealand talk radio! It is funny shit. There is a different level of censoring, and as long as you’re not dropping the F-bomb you can pretty much say what you want. We got to listen to a few topics mostly dealing with local Kiwi issues. What we really loved was the “white trash story of the week”: A local farmhand was feeling a bit randy. He called up a hooker for take-away (prostitution is legal here). A younger, twenty-something, lass made the house-call to his caravan, situated on the farm he was working at the time. After the “job”, he wouldn’t pay. He claimed he had no money. Here is where it gets entertaining; She went home and told her mum she had been “stiffed”. Her mum (age 40) called a couple of mates and off they all went to the farmhand’s caravan. She calmly explained the concept of capitalism to the young man, and he reasonably discussed the theory of customer satisfaction and when to cut your losses. Quite the economic summit… No, this is not how it went… Remember the riots in Seattle a few years ago during the big WTO summit? The people smashing the windows and burning the cars had absolutely no direct connection with the economics being discussed. Imagine if they did… After Mumsy couldn’t get blood from the stone, (Farmboy stuck with his “gots no money” story) she and her mates pulled out a couple of baseball bats and beat the crap out of Farmboy’s car. (You thought it was going somewhere else, didn’t you… this is a civilized country after all…LOL). Farmboy then fired up a nearby tractor and played Monster Truck Challenge on Mumsy’s car. Farmboy then called the cops. Everyone was arrested. Farmboy had a least five counts brought against him, including: “Incurring debt by deception”, intent to defraud, vandalism, and burglary. Mumsy was charged with vandalism, assault, and setting a bad example (ok, I made the last one up…) He is doing some jail time, Mumsy had to pay for his car. The hooker never did collect.

Callers had a field day with this story. One fellow brought up if you are dissatisfied with a contractors work, you are not obligated to pay… Others brought up fee for time, no guarantees implied. KK felt if the farmboy “finished”, he was satisfied… JD sided with the magistrate: If you call out a service person, any profession, with the intent to not pay, your personal satisfaction with the job is a moot point. Pay the fine, and do the time.

We then meandered to Methvin, a ski town near four of the south islands ski destinations. Ski towns are great places to go off-season. As long as there are some summer activities, biking, hiking, etc, the local businesses stay open. Rates are always better, people very laid back, and certainly less crowded. All was mellow in the little off-season ski town. We met a German couple who where just finishing a six-month stint that had included Central America, and a young Swedish couple who had just finished 6 weeks in Thailand and were just starting 5 weeks here, with a passage through NYC on their way home in a couple of months. From here we are off to the Banks Peninsula, an old volcanic cone just east of Christchurch. We have six days left before we’re off to Oz.

More Photos: South Island East Coast