Advertisement
Published: March 17th 2009
Edit Blog Post
Up over the hills again, and down the swooping twisting turns to a final meet-up with Priscilla in Little River, as she was on her way home from Christchurch with provisions for a new group of helpers.
We had drinks with her at the gallery there, after looking at all the varied art and sculpture. This gallery was an outlet for local talent and there was a wonderful array of unusual and beautiful objects for sale. Paula found a pair of earrings she loved, paua disks set into smooth gray stones - Greywacke, which is the bedrock that forms the islands of New Zealand. A very appropriate souvenir, she thought.
We were now on our way to the high country to see lakes and mountains in the central south island, and drove inland and south, across the plains of South Canterbury, making our way towards looming mountains - snow-tipped even in late summer, over deep, rocky rivers and narrow bridges (Paula squealing, “Photo op!” more than once at her first sight of the Southern Alps).
After dark, we reached Fairlie, and found a motor camp with a cabin we could occupy for the night. Impossible though it seemed,
the stars in this remote area were even more beautiful than in the Awatere Valley.
Early next day, while the warm yellow light of early morning was still on the mountain slopes, we went further into McKenzie Country. The road snaked across a wide valley floor of grasses in late summer colour: yellow-brown, paddocks extending into the dusty distance and rising to ridges high on either side that were still bare of the snow cover that would soon smother their craggy shape and make it soft.
“Omigod, that’s unbelievable!” Lake Tekapo appeared around a curve in the road and the rich; deep turquoise color astounded the eyes.
“No, it’s impossible for it to be that blue, they must have dyed it!”
Anthony chuckled at the girls’ incredulity, smoothly negotiating the sinuous road down to the lakeside and the Church of the Good Shepherd. This simple, solidly-built, stone church is a well-known destination for those wanting to marry, some of them coming from overseas.
The small church is beautifully constructed of stone, and features a huge glass expanse behind the altar where some churches might have small stained glass in a plain wall, allowing the
vista of the lake and surrounding mountains to glorify the Creator as no man-made backdrop ever could. The color of the hills and water surrounding the church was something out of a Hollywood colourist’s paint palette. It was a perfect morning.
We sat briefly and meditated in the respectful silence where many others had prayed - for good weather, abundant flocks, good health for family and friends, saved souls and blessings for generations past and present.
But even at 9.00 in the morning we were hardly alone. It was clear that despite the economic state the world appears to be in, that bus tours still abound! Every nationality imaginable were out that day and clicking away on their digital cameras to capture the beauty of this little house of refuge and worship, perhaps to share with friends and family back home.
We stopped to overlook the lake, and took our shoes off to feel the moss on the bank. It was like a cushion of fine wool carpeting, bouncing under the soles of our feet. The girls could not recall anything in the States to equal it. There was new housing being built in the area. Many
others obviously liked the country here.
The road to Mt Cook wound along Lake Pukaki, with vistas of the highest of the southern alps' peaks hidden in cloud. We hoped for a sudden brisk wind to blow it clear for our waiting camera...
And we were fortunate at Mt Cook. Over lunch at the Hermitage we got great views of NZ's highest peak Aoraki, after a week and a half of cloud cover that cleared, just for us, of course!
At the new Alpine Centre, a walk through the history of the explorer Sir Edmund Hilary gave one pause to consider his accomplishments: treks up and down the highest of heights here and in foreign lands, treks over icy Antarctica, school building for those with few resources.
The types of geography in New Zealand, and the speed at which it changes from one type to another as one travels across country is always surprising. In any direction there is the opportunity to take in views of the most breathtaking parts of the earth imaginable. And we have seen many rainbows here: surely NZ is the pot of gold and the end.
We found a lovely
Mt Cook!
After a lot of time hiding in cloud, the peak of Aoraki comes out in the afternoon sun. backpackers place in Omarama, and as it was past the dinner hour, asked for a recommendation about somewhere to eat. The best, our hostess declared, was just a short walk through a gate, and across a neighbouring field. We wouldn’t need to take the car...
It wasn’t a short walk. There was unfortunately more than one gate, and Ant chose the wrong one. On the path less walked there were fences to climb, (not easy for Graci in her long dress), sheep, and their droppings, to avoid, and then there was no eatery by the road on the other side! We were not aided by a couple of locals who assured us that there wasn’t any such diner ‘around here’. Ant walked back to get the car and drove the long way around, by which time, the girls had used some initiative and discovered the place.
It was worth it. Lamb shanks, home cooked. And we were almost alone in the restaurant, while the owner’s family and friends had drinks on the deck just outside. Next morning, we followed the road down the wide Waitaki Valley, back towards the East coast, and towards Waimate. We passed the more
Inside the Hermitage, Mt Cook
This is the tiny aircaft that made the first landings on the snow of the Tasman Glacier in the 1950's. It has 'skis'for the landing. dams and power generating stations, stopping on top of the high Benmore dam to take in the view.
We stopped near the tiny settlement of Duntroon, to marvel at early Maori rock paintings.
At Waimate was the home of a couple who had built their own earth home, and as Ant loves earth construction, we were keen to stay here a few days. However, when we found the place in early evening, we were surprised to find two young American wwoofers had already arrived. These girls later told us that they been had called earlier to delay their stay - but that as they were already on the bus en route at the time. So there were 5 of us, and that seemed to be a few more than was usually hosted at one time.
We all got acquainted over squash soup. Their youngest daughter had just returned from Girls Brigade, and told us about what she had done that day with her group while downing lots of bread and creamed honey, which she kept her mother busy preparing, one slice at a time with the crusts cut off, please!
Alternative things are the norm here.
Gracie and Paula at Benmore
On top of the dam, looking down the Waitaki Valley There is no mains electricity, the toilet in the house is a composting one, and there are carved fantails in some sections of the mud walls. These were beautiful sculpted, and there were hand made mosaics in the tiled floor.
After a short while, we were taken across the rather muddy field to show us where we would be sleeping if we stayed. It was the house they had lived in while they built the mud home, and it was not in the best of shape. There was no shower, although it was promised "in a couple of days", and the bunk mattress where Paula was to sleep was so flaccid it felt like a hammock. The bed for Anthony and Graci was actually just a box spring (with springs sticking out). And then the batteries ran flat and the lights went out. It was interesting times.
We walked back to the main house to explain that Grace would not be able to sleep on a concrete-like surface with springs poking her. The American girls did decide to stay on, and we wished them well.
These hosts warmed up a lot while explaining some of the intricacies
Rock Painting at Duntroon
These early rock paintings were done by local Maori. of their earth brick building, and it was disappointing that their renovation of the old house was not very far advanced at the time we got there. At least we had got to see and touch their beautiful hand-built home. So we drove on, southward, into Oamaru. This is the home of the lovely white Oamaru stone, and we looked here for somewhere to stay.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.108s; Tpl: 0.02s; cc: 10; qc: 47; dbt: 0.051s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb