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Published: January 22nd 2007
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The South Island; The Most Beautiful Place On Earth.
Wow. The view from the window of the old chapel on Lake Tapuko. Enough to make you go to prayer. Monday 15th January 2007
We left Ashburton and headed off for the longish drive to Queenstown, the adventure capital of NZ and the most southerly point that time was going to allow us to reach and as we entered the small township of Geraldine fifteen minutes into the trek I had just started telling Marg the one about the outback radio station (if you aint heard it yet ask me when I get home). I was getting fully into the story as was Margy, perhaps even a little bit carried away as can sometimes be the case and shortly after it'd finished and we´d both stopped chuckling we came across an unplanned T junction with the major route 1 highway, the very same highway we'd pulled off twenty minutes earlier. I let out a loud "shit". We'd completely missed our turning back in Geraldine and a good start to the day had been had.
The weather was certainly beginning to look up, New Zealand is in the midst of it's worst summer for years but today the sun was cracking the flags. We stopped off at Burke's Pass, and wandered around a small cemetry where 50 per cent of
The South Island; The Most Beautiful Place On Earth.
The old chapel itself after the ubiquitous Japs had disappeared. the graves were of people under 35 who'd perished either whilst skiing or attempting to climb some local peak or other and where Marg again disappeared into the undergrowth before we continued on our way. This route across country was the prettiest yet, the highway was lined with hundreds of wild lupin's of all colours and backed up by the snow covered peaks of the Southern Alps. We were heading towards Lake Tapuko and as we drove over yet another rise it appeared. Due to mineral deposits the water was an extraordinary and unique shade of torquoise like I've never seen before. I pulled over and we started to descend the rocky bank to the shoreline, the bank was steep and I was assisting Marg down when all of a sudden out of the corner of our eyes a figure came hurtling into view. Two middle aged Scottish couple's had, like mum and I, recognised the beauty of the moment and started descending behind us when the most eager of them had, as he later told us, just completely lost his footing. He was just a blur as he flashed past us, head down and outstretched arm balancing his camera
like a young child in the egg and spoon race on a direct route to the water, increasing speed with each out of control step until he obviously decided that his best option was to crash land and splattered face down into the grit and rocks all the while holding his prized camera in his up raised arm. We both winced and were seriously concerned for his safety. As is often the case in such situations, just like myself on the open topped bus at Bondi, he sprung to his feet in the hope that nobody had noticed and as though he had felt nothing and dusted himself down. He was a very lucky chap. His wife's natural reaction was, embarrassingly for all present including probably herself, to laugh which could and most probably will have horrible repercussions later in their holiday but he assured us in his strong Scottish brogue that he was okay. The term 'The Flying Scotsman' had taken on a whole new meaning. There was an old chapel on the side of the lake which provided a lovely frame for a photograph, almost enough to make you consider going to church every Sunday. It was described,
The South Island; The Most Beautiful Place On Earth.
Marg checks on the well being of the flying scotsman and his wife. like most things in New Zealand over twenty years old as an historic building even though it was only built in the early 1900´s. As we approached it was being visited by a group of the ubiquitous Japanese who seemed to have sprung from nowhere but once they´d disappeared we took a look and then found a lovely spot by the lake for lunch and could have stayed all day but time told us we had to push on.
Ten minutes later we went over another rise in the road and both 'wowed' in unison. I didn't think it could get any better than Lake Tapuko but Lake Pukaki was something else. The most incredible torquoise coloured waters with steep pine covered hills to either side and the snow capped Mount Cook to the rear with two foot high waves like the ocean washing onto the stony shore and to complete it all not a single person in sight. It might sound like an exxageration but it was, quite simply, the most beautiful place I have ever seen. We decided we couldn't just leave this spot behind and to hang around for a while and as Marg sat on
The South Island; The Most Beautiful Place On Earth.
A typical road shot with Lupins lining the verges for miles and miles. the waters edge I lay on the grassy bank with my ipod shooting Incubus's 'Wish You Were Here' into my head. I don't know why I chose that song, perhaps subconsiously it was directed at everyone I know and miss from back home but the line "The Ocean looks like a thousand diamonds strewn across the blue plains" couldn't have more apt other than replacing ocean with lake. I returned to the car to fetch something as another vehicle pulled in behind ours. A woman wound the window down and enquired "are you leaving now?" Fat chance. "No, I'm just gonna lie down again" and thankfully she turned and left.
Other wonderful sights on our route through to Queenstown included a stop at 'Roaring Meg', a wild part of The Karanau River running through the mountains, a spectacular drive through 'The Lindis Pass', yet another winding road through the peaks and another stop at the bungy site positioned on a huge suspension bridge across a river on our descent into Queenstown. I had intended to do a bungy when I left the UK but, for whatever reasons, cash has not lasted as I'd have liked so I was going
to have to give it a miss but I informed Marg that anyone over sixty got it for free in the hope she'd have a try. Nothing doing I'm afraid. My ipod remained in one ear for this leg of the journey, the radio rendered useless by the mountains either side of us and it has proved to be my most valuable companion during my solo travelling. It's amazing how a bit of the music you love can lift you.
We pulled into Queenstown, homeless, at around five o'clock and it's fair to say we were both pretty shattered. Although the drive was beautiful, the hairpins can take their toll, not just on me but Marg also who, at some of my Monte Carlo moments was thrown around in the front seat like a rag doll gripping her seat belt for balance. All the places we stopped were classed as exclusive accommodation and priced accordingly until we finally stopped at what looked like a more reasonably priced gaff. I wound the window down and asked the roughneck vested and tattooed guy sitting outside reception "how much?". He had a permanent smile on his face and looked as though he
was quickly calculating how much additional profit he could make from these two knackered looking pom's and replied "120 bucks". I winced and offered "80" to which he retorted "100". He was probably expecting me to shout "deal" or "done" and offer my hand but for some reason that I'm still trying to fathom I then said "90". He put his headround the door to speak to his governor then peered back shaking his head but still smiling. He told us to try the campsite across the way who had what they described as 'motel accommodation'. At 57 bucks I doubted it and took the key off the girl at reception to check it out. It was basically a room about eight foot square with a bunk in and nothing else. There was no way even I could ask my mother to sleep in that. We returned to the previous place, which was really rather nice and cracked open the wine.
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Donna
non-member comment
Didn't have the email to remind me to read this ;) Stunning, those lakes, that church , the views are simply stunning. Donna xx