New Zealand 1998

Saturday, 28 February Greymouth

Rain! The forecast was easing to showers in the afternoon so I decided not to go anywhere and booked for another night at the hostel. When the rain went off about ten, I wandered into town and bought some maps for next week, then had a baked potato with salmon and shrimp filling for breakfast before wandering into the Royal Hotel for the first beer of the day. I was out in time to photograph the arrival of the Tranz Alpine from Christchurch then walked round the harbour and out to the river mouth (south side).

All this wandering around and not a drop of rain, not even a shower. The weather forecasts here are no better than in Scotland. So I went into the Union for another beer, then the Gilmer for a third since it was on the way back to town. By this time it was evening and still no showers so I went into Revington’s Hotel for dinner. Minestrone soup followed by lasagne and chips plus salad bar for $11.95 – the cheapest pub grub since Australia so I had a couple of beers to celebrate and drown my regrets for a rather wasted day. Never believe weather forecasts.

Sunday, 1 March

There was nothing wrong with the weather this morning so I went for the walk I’d originally planned for yesterday. I started off crossing the Grey River by the Cobden Bridge (not a lot of choice) about half past eight and wandered out the embankment to the river mouth. Was that Mount Cook I could see in the distance or just a cloud? Then along the Cobden shore road to the Point Elizabeth Walkway, a pleasant stroll with not too much rise and fall for a fine view north along the coast from the point then continued to Rapahoe, eschewing the shore route as the tide was coming in.

The Rapahoe Hotel looked very sleepy (at quarter to twelve) so I didn’t try to get in but headed back towards Greymouth by the road as far as Runanga where I couldn’t see any hotel so settled for a cup of tea at the petrol station. Suitable refreshed, I left the main road for a pleasant stroll through the bush to the Coal Creek Falls track. Then it as back to and down the main road to Greymouth, arriving there just after four.

At the hostel, I showered and had a pot of tea before heading out for an evening’s entertainment in the Royal; but – horrors – I’d left my pipe at the hostel and on my way back there, I decided to have fish and chips for tea and go to bed early.

Monday, 2 March To Westport

I phoned home, all is well, and I was reminded that next Tuesday is Fiona’s 21st birthday, so I suppose I’ll have to send a card. I went for a walk up the hill behind the hostel, euphemistically named Kings Park, to admire the views. They were largely obscured by trees in most directions except up the Grey Valley, but the sun was in the wrong place for photography.

Back in town, I bought a card and retired to the Royal to write it and posted it on the way to the station. The bus was fifteen minutes late which must have been a relief to the last-minute passenger for Runanga, I’m sure he preferred nine minutes on the bus rather than walking for an hour and a half.

Our stop at Punakaiki was cut to twenty-five minutes, just time for a quick run round the Pancake Rocks without time to stop and stare. The blowholes were in better form than on my previous visits. Further north, I recognised a stretch of road where I’d taken a photograph ten years ago and could never remember the location. The answer is — “Gentle Annie Rocks”.

We arrived at Westport at five past four and I headed for Marg’s (YHA Associate) Hostel which offered everything from bed and breakfast to backpackers in motel style units. I booked a bed for two nights in the backpacker bit which was two stories with 7 or 8 beds in each unit. I was given a voucher for a cheap meal and beer in Baillies but it was a little early for dinner so I checked out a couple of other pubs, Larsen’s and the Melbourne, on the way. The cheap meal was not too bad, I opted for the beef casserole but the vegetables were out of a tin.

By the time I got around to doing some shopping, the supermarket was closed but I found a dairy so that was all right, if a little expensive. I checked out the Royal Tavern and the Cosmopolitan on the way back to the hostel but none of them seems to be the pub where I had lunch ten years ago.

Tuesday, 3 March Denniston

Being in a charitable mood this morning, I made my breakfast in communal kitchen rather than wake the others in the unit. Then I walked out the road in the direction of Denniston. Most of the traffic was heading into town, only half a dozen went out and I failed to get a lift. So I walked back to town, into Becker’s and hired a mountain bike for $15 for the day (return by 5pm).

I left town again at quarter past nine and after about five kilometres I’d just about worked out how to use the twenty-one gears and four gear levers. It was not funny cycling on new chippings but apart from that, it was not too bad out to Waimangaroa, near the foot of the Denniston Incline, since there are few hills on the coastal flat. I bought some milk in the store there and was standing outside drinking it when a taxi driver asked if I knew where X Street was. “No, I’m a stranger here myself.” The lady of the shop came out and gave him directions, and offered to let me leave my bike behind the shop, which I did.

Twenty-five minutes took me to the foot of the Bridle Path, now the Denniston Walkway. A sign said three hours up, two hours down but an hour and a quarter later I was at the top. Not much has changed in ten years, there seemed to be fewer interpretation boards but that was the only difference I noticed. Visibility was quite good and the views out over the coastal plain were reasonable. I wandered around for an hour and twenty minutes before descending by the same route. It took me an hour and ten minutes to get down, I don’t know why, it’s a good track, not too steep.

I decided I’d time to get to the bottom of the Incline at Conn’s Creek, and did so, then back to recover the bike and cycle back to Westport. This morning’s barely perceptible tail wind had become a stiff head wind, the roadmen laying the new chippings had covered a fair bit of ground in the course of the day, and it took sixty-five minutes as against this morning’s fifty, and I’d only ten minutes to spare returning the bike.

Back at the hostel, I’d a shower and a pot of tea before buying milk and tobacco and resuming my investigation of the town’s pubs (Black & White, Criterion, Baillies again and the Albion). I still don’t recognise where I had lunch ten years ago.

Wednesday, 4 March

I took my breakfast in the big kitchen again before starting a slow walk towards the Coaltown museum, stopping to buy a couple of maps on the way. The museum is still very interesting but the shop had no tee shirts, just the usual trivia. I was surprised that they had no copies of the videos which were showing, prospective purchasers were referred to a shop in the town.

Chicken and cheese cutlets with tinned vegetables served for lunch in the Cosmopolitan, washed down with Miners Draught. Then, to pass the time, I meandered out to the river-mouth by a devious route, returning via the small harbour in good time to pick up my bag and head for the bus stop.

The bus was just as late as it had been on Monday, leaving about ten past four. There were a couple of drunks aboard but the noisy one soon fell asleep. We stopped for a break at Murchison about half past five where I nipped into the Hampden Hotel for a quick pint. The two bars have been knocked into one but I didn’t have time to try the soup (the best chicken broth in the southern hemisphere ten years ago) as we had been given only twenty-five minutes in an attempt to catch up time. Of course, we’d had the full half hour by the time we got going.

We arrived in Nelson at eight o’clock after a taking a circuitous route through the suburbs, I booked a bed at the hostel for three nights and went out for a brief walk. However, I came across the Wakatu (the Maori name for Nelson) Hotel where I had a drink or two nineteen years ago, so had a couple of jugs to celebrate while watching the NZ tail-enders fail to catch Zimbabwe.

Thursday, 5 March Nelson

Since I’d bought no food yesterday, it was baked beans and scrambled eggs with toast and tea in a cafe for breakfast — sybaritic living — then bought the local map (useful thing to have), dropped off five films for processing at the Photo Factory and took tea with a cheese and ham sandwich for elevenses.

Suitable fortified, I wandered up Botanic Hill to the Centre of New Zealand Lookout, took a couple of photographs of not very inspiring views, then along a track which afforded better views of the town, port and Tasman Bay. I returned to lower ground through the new Walter’s Bluff subdivision, pretty steep sections, not many houses yet.

At last I got around to doing some shopping, then my laundry, picked up the processed films while it was in the drier and went out for dinner. I couldn’t decide what to eat so I had a jug of Forge Draught, then went back to the Wakatu Hotel which has a Cobb & Co. restaurant attached and dined on jumbo ribs washed down with a carafe of the house red.

Friday, 6 March Dun Mountain

I went for a walk, despite the weather forecast of showers, up the Dun Mountain Walkway which uses part of the Dun Mountain Railway — the first opened in New Zealand in 1862 to bring ore down to the port. The ore wagons ran downhill under gravity and were pulled back up by horses. I continued past the end of the walkway and caught up with another walker, a local no less (from Stoke). We both expresses surprise at meeting someone else, chatted for a while, then I carried on. He caught up with me again as I was having an early lunch (muesli bars and an apple) at Third House Hut. We watched the cloud swirling past for a while then I continued up the track and he headed off homeward over Jenkins Mountain.

By Windy Point (and I know why it’s called that!), I’d decided that the cloud was not going to lift and I might as well turn back but I wandered a little further and did catch a glimpse of the Saddle through a brief break, but it wasn’t enough to entice me further. By half past one, I was on the way down and emerged below the cloud slightly higher than I’d entered it, but only by 100 metres or so.

I was back in town by five, showered and drank a lot of tea, then phoned Dave in Wellington to say I’d get there on Monday or Tuesday. Then I went out for a couple of beers. The pubs were busy with folk watching the rugby, Canterbury against New South Wales; hardly anyone watching the cricket which I think New Zealand won.

Saturday, 7 March

There were plenty of seats available on this morning’s bus to Picton so I decided to move on and rushed along the road to buy some film. I decided to get just the one — just as well as they were $13.50 each as against $10.87 in Dunedin. The bus had to wait for a connection from — the driver said Marahua but the timetable shows the bus from Kaiteriteri doesn’t go via Marahua — and were thirteen minutes late leaving, then there were a couple of pick-ups and it was twenty past ten before we hit the road.

We stuck with the main road from Havelock (childhood home of Lord Rutherford of atom splitting fame) through Renwick and Blenheim, scorning the short route through Linkwater and were still ten minutes behind schedule at Picton at about half past twelve

I booked into the hostel for two nights, did some shopping, bought a map and sat in the pub considering what to do next. The Federal Hotel seems more spartan than I remember it but the view is still the best in town (and one of the best in New Zealand). In the evening, I had a beer in the Terminus then another in the Oxley before bed.

Sunday, 8 March

First deal with the important things – buy more tobacco. Then off for a wander on the ridge which forms the east side of Picton Harbour and affords fine views over the port. Picton is the South Island port for the inter-island ferries so at certain times there is a fair bit of activity.

small catamaran

I watched the arrival of the small catamaran from Mana (on Porirua Harbour, foot passengers only), the Aratika (5684 gross tonnes, rail and passenger service from Wellington) and the Lynx (car and passenger catamaran from Wellington, currently served by Condor 10 which I think I saw some years ago working Weymouth – Channel Islands), in that order. Only the Aratika (and her fleet mates) provides a year round service, the others are summer only.

Queen Charlotte Sound

Then I walked out to The Snout at the end of the ridge, and back again, a little faster than was entirely comfortable in and hour and three quarters (against the advertised time of two and a half hours) as I wanted to watch the arrival of Arahura (7708 gross tonnes) followed by the former CalMac ferry Suilven (pronounced Sullivan here), now owned by Straits Shipping and registered in Wellington. She was in her day the largest CalMac boat, sailing across the Minch from Ullapool to Stornoway but she is only half the size of Arahura.

After this excitement, I returned to Picton via Bob’s bay and along the shore (with a wary eye on the tide) for an ice cream (orange and chocolate chip) on the way to a shower and several mugs of tea. I booked another night (Monday) at the hostel and went out to check the enforcement of Sunday drinking laws — there wasn’t much. The along to the ferry terminal to book a passage for Tuesday at 10:30 (Aratika), went into two hotels just after the kitchens had closed, and retired to bed.

Monday, 9 March

Time for an easy day, the quarter past ten Beachcomber Fun Cruise ($30) across the Queen Charlotte Sound to Torea Bay (about forty minutes) where there may once have been a portage across to Portage. I ascended the hill and at the top, set off west on the Queen Charlotte Walkway for a gentle stroll over one hill (407 metres, no view) and round another but detoured there to a lookout at the summit (416 metres). I spent half an hour there before descending on the James Vogel Track and one side of the Mistletoe Bay Loop Track (a nature trail) where I still had an hour and a quarter to wait for the boat. This proved long enough to carefully clean twigs, stones and leaf litter from my boots/socks/feet, all the while smoking my pipe.

The boat was on time at quarter to four and did a bit of a scenic cruise before arriving back at Picton at half past four. I did some shopping on the way back to the hostel where I drank some tea before dining on a sausage salad and chips in the Federal with the usual accompaniment of a couple of jugs of beer.