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Published: December 16th 2009
Dunedin Station
One of the citys only redeeming features !!Well, as much as we loved Queenstown and the south-west it was time to move on. Another early start heralded the beginning of our journey back up the Island. Our destination was the Scottish settlement of Dunedin and we were looking forward to it, as it is known as ‘the Edinburgh of the South’; the original is one of Chris’s favourite cities in the world. We followed the old gold mining trail through central Otago, arriving early afternoon in Dunedin. The reasoning for the moniker became obvious as we passed signposts to Costorphine, Riccarton and Morningside. We drove in along Princes St & George St and off at the water’s edge was the dock area called Leith. Unfortunately that is where the resemblance to the fine Scottish City ends. Sorry to any locals who might read this but if I was the Scottish or Edinburgh Tourist Board I’d sue. Anyone visiting Dunedin first would most definitely be put off travelling to the original. To put it mildly it’s a bit of a hole. Luckily for us a booking mishap upgraded us to the best room we’ve had in NZ (apart from Aunty Aileens) so an evening drinking fine NZ wine with
Gotta be done
Not by us it hasn't. The steepest street in the world. new friends ensured that our stay was pleasurable. We had a walk around the city and, to praise where it is due, there are some fine municipal buildings and some great architecture from the late 1800’s, unfortunately all of the newer stuff that has sprung up around it makes you miss all but the most obvious. We did make the effort and go to the Dunedin Public Art Gallery - um - it seemed to be filled with a lot of stuff that we both thought we could easily do better. I suppose you have to give the artist his due for making money from a load of crap (sorry art lovers everywhere, but art appreciation is a very personal thing). There was also the Cadbury factory which Chris managed to keep Lisa out of. We could wax lyrical about the history of the city but there probably isn’t any point as we couldn’t recommend it except as a stop to somewhere nicer.
The following morning we set off to the only local landmark of note, the steepest street in the world is in Dunedin Baldwin St which is has a gradient of 1 in 2.86 at its steepest
Boulders
Now where the heck did they come from? point. Every year during Dunedin’s festival loads of people take part in the Baldwin Street Gutbuster, which is basically foot races to the top and back. Declining the option of pulling calf muscles first thing in the morning we spent the time wondering how much the residents spend on brake pads and clutches.
Further up the east coast we stopped at a natural wonder, the famous Moeraki Boulders, weird spherical stones that up close resemble turtle shells or something from outer space. From then on we headed into a lovely little town called Oamaru that was a pleasant riposte to dreary Dunedin. All of the main buildings shine out, they look almost brilliant white thanks to the area being well known for a bright limestone, not dissimilar to Portland Stone. All of the major buildings are quite lovely and the rest of the town has been built sympathetically to this. We passed over the Mackenzie (you’ll hear of him again) dam, the largest earth dam in the Southern Hemisphere and into the eastern side of the beautiful Southern Alps. A lot of New Zealand’s power is provided from here, plenty of hydroelectric stations allow New Zealand to meet her
Just like Portland
Possibly the brighest town we've ever seen. needs from the natural world. We stopped for a view of Mount Cook, the highest peak in Australasia, looking imposing over the creamy Lake Pukaki, coloured a milky white by the minerals carried down river from the glacial ranges.
Out next overnight was in the quiet little hamlet of Lake Tekapo. On arrival the sun was shining so we decided to try yet another form of transport and borrowed a couple of bikes from the hostel and ride around the lake. It provided us with a stunning view as the clouds seem to hang in a valley on the other side of the lake, almost like they were being poured down into the lake from the hills above, which give it an unearthly appearance. Apparently there is nothing ghostly about it, but more to do with cold air and warm air. Unfortunately this form of transport took its toll and Lisa managed to injure herself, not through an inability to steer or stay on, as she was initially afraid, but from an inability to walk and push the bike uphill. Lisa decided that her exercise was concluded for the day so Chris rode off into the sunset, or to
Ghostly
Creeping Cloud sneaks up the other side of the village, where there is the lovely little Church of the Good Shepherd built by the lake’s settlers and a great statue of a collie dog, as a tribute to the local sheep farmers’ best friend. That night our Magic driver had got everyone to chip in and he had purchased a load of food, beer and wine and with everyone helping provided a great BBQ on the side of the lake, one of the few opportunities to spend time finding out about your travelling companions. And there are an amazing set of stories to be heard.
The following day turned out to be one of those ‘Monastery’ moments. Matt will understand the true meaning, but essentially what started as a good idea nearly ended in tears. We chose to go up to the foothills of Mount Cook and tramp along the Hooker Valley, after looking out of the window to check the weather rather than relying on the forecast. We set off in a little minibus in sunshine but as we approached the valley at the base of the mountains it was completely veiled in dark cloud and rain and by the time we
Freezing
Now can we make it home alive? arrived in the village of Mount Cook, and the driver dropped us off, it was chucking it down. We weren’t best pleased when it turned out he knew it was bad and advised us to sit in the cafe for 6 hours until he picked us up again, but only after making sure we had shelled out our fares. We duly waited for about an hour and then thought ‘what the heck we’re Brits and used to a bit of rain’ so we set off to hike the Hooker Valley to the base of the glacier with a young couple from Holland, a girl from Switzerland and our Japanese friend Yukari. 20 minutes into the walk and our 1st obstacle, what had been a small stream the day before was now a 20ft wide torrent of water, Chris decided to forge on and waded across only to find the water was knee deep (and freezing). Lisa and Yukari joined the mad adventure but the youngsters decided the cafe idea was preferable (sensible lot). We forged on through the driving rain, walking through rivers and crossing swing bridges suspended above raging torrents, then the thunder and lightning started. Here we were,
Still Freezing
But nearly home. This is a monument to those who didn't make it back. 2 hours into the middle of the mountains in the pouring rain, wading through rivers with metal walking poles in our hands and the fury of the sky was striking all around us. Luckily we found a shelter, and while there was no chance of warming up at least we could eat and drink something. It was at this point we realised how badly prepared Yukari was, jeans, cheap trainers, a thin T-shirt and a dodgy shell suit jacket weren’t keeping the elements at bay. She was freezing, so with the glacier almost in sight we decided that discretion was the better part of valour, lent her a bit of decent clothing and set off for the 2 hour trek back. We passed a lovely great lake with icebergs floating in it and some beautiful waterfalls crashing down from the mountains but to tell you the truth, we were too cold (being soaked through to our underwear) and tired to appreciate it. We made it back to the cafe and managed to grab a hot coffee before boarding the bus back to Lake Tekapo. Dumb move some might say, and we wouldn’t disagree, but unless you try these things you
Mount Cook
Trying to get closer nearly cost us never know. Never has a hot shower followed by a bottle of the local Pinot Noir felt so good.
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