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Published: October 24th 2006
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Not a bad spot to camp really
This is the view we pulled the curtains open to! After two hours on the mildly rolling Cook Straight, we entered the sanctity of the majestic Marlborough Sounds, a series of channels between forest cloaked peaks through which the ferry had to weave. On arrival at Picton, we descended to the Chief and drove off the ferry along Queen Charlotte Drive which twisted & turned towards Nelson. The journey took us past Queen Charlotte Sound and Havelock, birthplace of Earnest Rutherford, the man who first identified the makeup of the atom.
Past Nelson which is bizarrely more Northerly than Wellington we veered along the coast to Motueka and the
Abel Tasman National Park and our destination for the following day. By the time we arrived on the shores of the Tasman sea, the low and large moon was beautifully reflecting in the vast stretches of wet sand at low tide. Having secured a decent camping spot in nearby Kaiteriteri, we awoke to drive the final 10km to Marahau where we boarded a water taxi to take us along the coast to Bark Bay.
The Taxi (a fancy speedboat in NY cab livery) was dipped into the water by a tractor and zipped us around the bay to Split Apple
Rock, an aptly named perfectly sliced ball of rock which sits above the water level. From there we sped along the coast past cove after cove of golden sandy beaches fringing jungle clad hills. On the way to Bark bay our driver stopped at a small island where a group of Fur seals dried themselves on the sunny rocks. Having been dropped off on the beach, we set about trekking through the jungle on a path which meandered its way around the coastal hills and met several sandy coves along the way.
On the amazing walk through cool rainforest we kept on stopping under giant ferns to watch curious fantail birds and to listen to one bird whose song was a perfect Glockenspiel G. Passing the Falls river mouth where the retreating tide left a swirling bank of drying sand above the water we had to cross a huge swingbridge over the gorge. Stopping for lunch overlooking Torrent bay we gazed down to the smattering of houses (all totally solar powered) and watched the exiting tide leave vast banks of sand. Now that the tide was out it was possible to walk from one side of the bay to
the other so we trudged across billions of stranded shells until we found that the sand turned to sticky mud which squelched through our toes and had Claire's flip flops in a firm grip.
After a fantastic day in this beautiful region, our water taxi picked us up and we returned to our motorhome to press on down the west coast, stopping for the night next to the Buller River. The road the next morning ran parallel to the Buller Gorge where we stopped to take a peek at the longest of New Zealand's swingbridges and take an obligitory Indiana Jones photo. (Kaalimaaa Shaatiday!!) Through Murchison we again hit the Tasman coast at Westport and drove along the rugged coastline to
Punakaiki and Pancake Rocks, a fascinating unexplained layered rock formation which over the years has been eroded and carved out by the crashing waves. In several places the far below waves were squeezed at high pressure through blowholes creating huge fountains of mist.
Moving on down the coast and the Goldmining towns of Greymouth and Brighton the tropical vegetation gave way to wide river mouths and distant snowy peaks. By the time we had made it down
to the imposing Franz Joseph Glacier the weather had closed in but we still managed to view the glacier face from afar and marvel at the scored rocks beneath our feat where the Glacier had once extended to during the ice age. To our surprise as we drove off toward Fox Glacier we were treated to the most incredible streaking sunset before our nightime drive down to camp near Lake Matheson.
It was only when we awoke to clear blue skies the next morning that we realised that the camp site we'd blindly chosen was about as good as anything you could ever wish for! Surrounded on all sides by spectacular snow capped mountains including the stunning Mount Cook with only crisp birdsong for company. Heading back to
Fox Glacier we embarked on a full day Glacier walk which we believed to be for about 4 hours and with a group of about 10 we trekked up to the terminal face of the Glacier with our amiable guide Jeff and through thick rainforest (Fox Glacier is only 1 of 3 in the world which emerge into rainforest) along its northern flank. Quickly passing through a rockfall zone and traversing
a precarious section holding onto a chain we reached an incredible viewpoint where we were able to take in the full 7km Glacier in all its glory.
Tucking our socks in our boots and donning our crampons we stepped onto the dark debried ice and began stamping our way through huge pillars of solid ice on steps carved by our guides axe. On the ice we met Chris, a big bearded and burly Kiwi who endlessly cracked jokes as we walked up onto the main ice sheet. Once on top, the glacier was a labrynth of peaks and crevaces which although they look motionless are actually moving faster than any other glacier in the world right now (20cm per day and the only one measurably advancing).
Each day the surface of the Glacier is constantly changing meaning that once we were onto the central flow, our route for the day was completely unknown. At the time of our visiting, the sun had only recently crept above the mountain sides so the ice was in rapid meltdown making many areas unstable and meaning the increased speed opens and closes fatal cracks by the hour. Our journey through the maze
of ice walls and inside pearlescant and immaculately smooth crevaces was an incredible experience with our two guides constantly hacking our route out of the ice and running ahead to work out the next possible direction.
Nearing a perilous ridge where the ice flow buckles as it dropped over a waterfall lip and creates an area affectionately known as "suicide alley", our guides had to admit defeat in finding a further safe passage as a new hole had opened up over night. Stopping for lunch in an area littered with huge rocks the size of cars which had been ripped from the mountainside and carried and crushed some 7km down the steep slope. Not realising it was 4 hours just on the ice Claire and I turned up expecting to be back for lunch with just a packet of Maltesers whilst everyone else tucked into a full packed lunch! Through more deep chasms and past pools if surface meltwater we began our descent via an ice tunnel which had been opened up by the wind and off the ice to begin our walk back to the start.
Shattered after 7 hours hiking and back in the town at
Fox, we decided to skip the drive south and instead headed to the pub with a lovely Irish Family from our tour, Gerry (who taught us the winky wanky song) Annie and daughter Kerry. As they sang there hearts out as only the Irish do so well, we started chatting to a hilarious old New Zealander man with monstrous eyebrows named Gilbert. A whitebait fisherman and proud kiwi, Gilbert shouted his values on life and generally spat his way through several pints in a booming and drunk voice. At one point we asked if he would be driving back to his home this evening...
"Well I'm too bloody drunk to walk!"
he replied in disbelief.
With that we headed back to our own camp before our onward journey...
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Amy
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We miss you!
Hello there campers! Sounds like you're having an amazing time... it's definitely a million worlds away from Shoreham! Anyway, don't forget us! We all miss you very much. Keep the blogs coming - they're are a very welcomed distraction as I sit here looking out over a very grey London in a dreary office block! Love you lots xx P.S Did you get my emails? Don't think they're working - funny IT system here. In case you didn't - BIG CONGRATULATIONS on the engagement... really happy for you both xx