Abel-y ambling the West Coast

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The drive along the west coast of New Zealand's south island, from Greymouth to Westport is said to be one of the most scenic in the world. The road teeters along the edge of the cliff by the thundering Tasman Sea for miles on end and truly lives up to it's billing.

After a rainy night we took the first opportunity to stop at a scenic lookout, high above the sea, to air our damp tent. In fact we aired everything including towels and knickers as well as cooking an Asian inspired breakfast of fried eggs on onion fried rice. The sight of a blue tent, red knickers and rice for breakfast lead to an English couple striking up conversation with us. They were anxious to know if we had camped so precariously on the cliff and then were happy to hear stories of our travels. They were so interested that by the time we had finished talking our eggs had gone cold.

We meandered along the coastal road where we came to the Pancake Rocks and Blowholes. Thick jungle marked our entrance before we came out into view of the rolling sea. Along the cliff edge, through a layering - weathering process, the limestone has formed into what looks like piles of thick pancakes. The excellently informative signs along the path lead us further out and along the cliff to where we could hear booming plumes of water being thrown up through the rocks. Each wave that rolled in, slapped the rocks and one could almost see the erosion happening in real time.

Back in the car the voyage continued along the sea shore as the might of the Tasman Sea splashed the road's surface. A seal colony was up next which we walked to over another beautiful cliff's edge. Here hundreds of seals lolled in the break of the waves or simply sunned themselves on hot rocks. It looked a very nice life indeed. Not to be out done we went and had an ice cream sat in the sun in view of the azure sea.

Once in the town of Westport we pulled out our 'Brewers Guild of New Zealand' leaflet, given to us in Invercargill, and found the West Coast Brewing Company. Luckily the beer was more inventive than their name and so we bought two riggers of their delicious pale ale and made for a nice spot to drink it. As one can imagine this did not take very long. Soon we were by the Buller river, sat on the grass with beer in hand.

The next day we reached Rabbit Island where we watched kite surfers tackle the wind and waves, before driving all the way up to Farewell Spit, the northernmost point on the south island. The wind tore into the exposed peninsular creating a bleak and unusual land unto itself. The high tide spilled over the small, narrow roads bringing with it debris of all kinds. Persisting on we hit the end of the road and walked to the rough and ready spit where we watched black swans frolic in the choppy sea and let our eyes wander over the horizon of the crescent shaped dunes.

The strength of the wind persuaded us to switch sides of the spit and head to Wharariki Beach. A 6km gravel road was followed by a delightful walk through farmland which suddenly opened up onto a huge, wild sand blow. The wind threw sand in our eyes as we ran down the steep dunes and explored looming inlets shaped by erosion. The water was a seductive translucent colour but only teased us as deadly rip currents lay beneath.

It was a nice feeling to have scaled the country, from windswept Dunedin to the beautiful beaches of the Abel Tasman National Park, and with temperatures a good ten degrees warmer we made sure we got our beach quota. The golden bays of Takaka and Pohara graced us with ample sun before we found a place to sleep for the night, en route to the other side of the national park.

Sunday morning meant a market in the quaint, hippy meets farmer, town of Motueka. Everything from shanks of prized New Zealand lamb to Mexican burritos were sold at the various stalls. We dipped in for some fresh plums from a friendly man who advised we ate the bag of twelve as quickly as possible. With this in mind we headed out to the Abel Tasman N.P to tackle a section of the famed coastal path.

Passing through some quality real estate on high hills over looking luscious bays, we finally reached Marahau. Rain was in the distance but we still got the boots on for a brisk, yet very enjoyable, coastal trek to a romantic cove. New Zealanders are an active bunch. Hordes of families, couples and old people were walking the track each at their own pace. But it was one lady in particular who stood out. We had driven past her walking towards the track a few kilometres back and then there she was 7km later in front of us. Remarkable.

Unfortunately the rain set in and looked ominous for the rest of the day. We turned around and drove out of the park towards the Marlborough Sounds. Hungry after our walk, the rain scuppering our cooking, we resorted to finding a palm tree on the outskirts of Nelson to shelter and cook. Under the lonely palm with McDonalds one side of us and passing traffic the other, it certainly was an amusing state of affairs. The life of a camper isn't always sunshine and beaches you know!

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