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Published: September 9th 2006
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Fall Foliage
The vineyards were alive with colour ... our only capturing of fall foliage. Easter brings images of little girls in spring dresses and new hats and little boys in shortie suits. Crocuses pop through the earth’s surface, but a winter chill hangs on just enough so that we caught a chill in our Sunday’s best. It was always a relief to change into the preferred play clothes when dinner was done. Easter was a holiday tightly wrapped into one day filled with chocolate eggs and jelly beans.
In the past few years we have enjoyed our Easter brunches with Jenn and Kirt. In typical Jenn fashion there was always too much food, and it was always way too good. Kirt readily volunteered to cook the bacon … only half of which ever made it to the table. The time spent with family was well worth the 7 hour drive each way.
This year was different. On Maundy Thursday Bryan was on a business trip in Blenhiem sacrificing himself to raging waters of the Wairau River and battling the hackthorne and broombrush on a rural farm. Four and a half hours south, Mindy was hacking out a couple of long days at work in Christchurch. On Good Friday, Mindy woke early … only
Outward bounders
We were happily entertained watching kayakers plunge and flip. to collapse onto Bryan’s hotel bed by mid-morning. After a quick peruse through some local maps, we decided to pack a lunch and head to the seventy-one kilometre winding trail known as the Queen Charlotte Track.
The entire track can take up to four days for one to walk, but we only had a day tramp in mind. We walked underneath rich green trees and ferns along a sandy path. Just one hour into our walk we found ourselves perched on a bench overlooking the waters leading into the Marlborough Sounds. We joined in conversation with a couple of women from Nelson, exchanging our plans for the Easter weekend before parting ways.
On our way back to the car (which by the way was a Toyota Rav 4), we spotted a group of teenagers gathering at the end of the dock that jutted out into the water. Outward bounders took turns pushing their partners and kayaks off the edge of the dock then jumping into the cold water to “rescue” their flipped friends. The easy entertainment was welcome until our tummies got a-rumbling. At an ocean view restaurant we savoured rosemary roasted lamb, and then reluctantly returned the
Sunrise
The sun rays peaked out from under the clouds during an early morning low tide. luxury rental car to the local airport.
We woke in the morning to a shining sun, however, soon realised that Mindy’s camera was missing. Retracing our steps, we were certain that the camera was in the Rav 4 - locked and securely parked at the airport. We were delayed only minutes while we eagerly awaited the rental agent to arrive and unlock the vehicle at the airport. Breathing a sigh of relief, Mindy snatched the camera from the side pocket in the SUV and hopped in the passenger seat of the inferior Honda. Bryan took Mindy on a brief tour of the Wairau Valley where he had been working over the past several days. Our eyes feasted on the vivid autumn colours of grape leaves turning shades of yellow, orange, and red. In our minds we reflected back to New England’s spectacular fall foliages - we imagined the scent and sound of crisp fallen leaves with views of sugar maples lining a country road.
As we meandered along, we stopped at a fruit stand to buy a bag of fijoas. The oblong green fruit has a hard outer shell and a juicy flesh beneath - a taste all
Coastal Trailhead
We started out along the coastal track straight after our morning coffee. of its own. It has the texture of a pear, but the flavour has the tang of a kiwi. A quick stop for fruit turned into an hour long wine and olive oil tasting. We sat under an umbrella at a wooden table on the small patio with a British couple who was visiting family in the area. The owner shared stories of her hardships and passion of living a farmer’s life. Bidding farewell, we continued on our northwest journey towards Nelson and Marahau.
Marahua is the gateway to Abel Tasman National Park, and the Beach Camp’s café, motor camp, and general store mark the centre of town. For at least 500 years, nomadic Maori gathered food from the sea, estuaries, and forests along the Abel Tasman coast. On 18 December 1642, the Dutch explorer, Abel Tasman, anchored at Golden Bay, but soon moved on after four of his men died in a skirmish with the natives. By 1855, European settlers began logging the forests, quarrying the granite, and burning the hillsides for farmland. It wasn’t until 1942 that the land fell under government protection and the Abel Tasman Park opened. The 22,530 hectares of golden sandy beaches, rocky
Trail Marker
Our beacons on the tidal portion of the coastal track. outcroppings, and rich estuaries now flourish.
As we started out on the coastal track, a long-legged bird caught Mindy’s eye. A fit, white-haired man walked by with a spring in his step and she asked him if he knew what kind of bird it was. He didn’t. Instead he reflected upon growing up hunting and tramping in these parts and how he has seen changes over the years as the population has increased. He sadly informed us that on some summer days over four-hundred kayaks could be witnessed dotting the coastline. We shared a bittersweet moment of reality: We were all aware of the impact that tourists (like us) have on the land. Our fifteen minute friend bid us farewell as he continued on his daily loop, but only after thanking us for walking with him.
The two of us continued our walk along the inland and coastal tracks. The sandy bays and inlets perked our interest at every corner. At one of these turns we heard giggling and the slap of little feet on hard-packed soil. Up ahead was a family of four - mother, father, and two little ones of no more than 7 and 10
Coastal View
The sandy beach looked oh-so inviting. years of age. We continued at our quick, steady pace for the five-hour return to the campground, while the children burst ahead, then fell behind as they waited for their parents. The young boy was a bundle of energy, but alas, his little legs could not keep up the pace to the end.
We arrived at Old McDonald Farm just as the rain started. We reflected upon our Easter weekend as we washed up and cooked a warm dinner. We didn’t see the Easter bunny; we didn’t even have chocolate eggs or jelly beans. What we did find was a sense of peace as we interacted with nature and like-minded human beings. We settled into our sleeping bags wondering what our families would be doing on their Easter morn, and hoping that they felt our warm vibes from around the world.
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