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Published: March 15th 2009
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After many lazy days drinking too much wine, I have to admit it was a challenge to pick up my bicycle and set off again. With autumn now in full swing, I mounted my bike foolishly unprepared for the weather I was to encounter. On the South Island, the climate is most unique; while the sun is hot enough to get a burn, an arctic wind blows relentlessly up the island, chilling you every time a cloud goes by overhead. Fall has crept up on me faster than expected, which means I am scrambling to throw on all the clothes I have in my bag in layers just to stay warm, but also means that the trees are set more vibrantly ablaze in color the further south I travel. I started out from Blenheim, making my way down the east coast with the intent of getting to Christchurch in four days. As I passed over of the soft golden hills cradling the delicate Marlborough vineyards, I became increasingly battered by a gusty arctic headwind. I felt like every muscle and tendon in my legs was about to snap as I heaved with all my strength into what I later found out
was 85km/hr winds blowing straight up from Antarctica. It got so bad that on what was supposed to be a glorious downhill decent through the mountains left me actually getting pushed back uphill by the force of the wind. If I had a choice, I would take cycling up mountains over cycling through headwinds any day. A mountain you can see coming, the steepness predictable, and it provides the satisfactory rewards of stunning views and gleeful descents. But wind is a cursed companion. Fickle, unpredictable, and merciless. If it's behind you, it can be your best friend, but head on, your most feared enemy.
Just to dash my hopes a little further, it also began hailing on me as I went through a section of pasture without a tree to hide under. Battered, freezing, and exhausted, I arrived in Kaikoura and quickly collapsed into the hot tub of the nearest hostel. As I settled into my relaxing bath, I finally noticed that the area surrounding Kaikoura, which I took to be the same rolling hills I had been cycling through all day, was actually framed by an alpine mountain range! As the storm clouds cleared, under them appeared 3000 meter
peaks blanked in snow. The view was so stunning, I felt out of breath for the second time that day. Kaikoura may not be very well known, but in my opinion, it is one of the most beautiful places on the planet. In addition to the dormant frosty giants I discovered in the hot tub, Kaikoura is home to New Zealand's largest seal colony, and is the best place for whale and dolphin viewing. On my way in, I had seen hundreds of these seals bobbing in the choppy sea. Also of interest here are the marine birds, which as I travel further and further south, begin to look more like penguins and less like seagulls and albatross. When I awoke to a much calmer morning the next day, I took a stroll along the peninsula where fur seals slept en masse on the rocky shore before carrying on south down gorgeous coast inlets and through tunnels cut into the rock face. But just as I turned inland, again a steady headwind persisted and my already sore legs cried out, "why are you doing this to me!?". I pushed on for 50km without seeing a single town and began to
worry about my meager handful of cashews I had left in my bag. With only 25% of New Zealanders living on the South Island (that's around 1 million people and 9 million sheep) I soon realized my second error in unpreparedness. But just before I started panicking, I passed a sign for lodging. I turned off the main road, hoping I could buy some food and maybe a hot drink off the lodge hosts. The lodge turned out to be a very well kept tramping hut, vacant with a fridge full of food and all the doors wide open. I felt a bit like Goldy Locks stumbling upon the bear's cottage. I filled my water bottles and stole a nap on one of the comfy beds until finally hearing a car pull up. It was the caretaker transporting some hikers, a very nice Aussie who wound up making me a hot sandwich and some tea before telling me how much further to the nearest village. I paid him for the meal and made it another 20km until arriving at my one horse-of-a-town, the only thing left open after 7pm being a pub where I could get some fish and chips.
The town did have camping facilities, but it being dark, I neglected to notice the gang of roosters i would be sleeping next to. After I finally got to sleep through a windstorm so bad it make me dream of being in an earthquake, the damn roosters started going off at 4am. Now I know that roosters are useful in some way, but I couldn't help but think that only good rooster is a cooked one.
I vowed that on this my third day of cycling, I would find a nice soft bed the next town I got to and worry about getting to Christchurch the next day. As is the norm on the South Island, the 'next town' was another 60km down the road, but not only did it have the comfy bed that I sought, but the bed was actually in a train car! The town of Waipara, which tries to put itself on the map as another little NZ wine region (though the wine I tried was not very good) is also a stop on the TranzScenic Railway. Old train cars that used to make this route linking Picton to Christchurch some 50 odd years ago have
now been converted into backpackers accommodation in this sleepy rural town.
After getting my 12 hours of completely deserved rest, I at last had a day of sunshine and no headwind to keep my nose to the pavement. I sped into Christchurch at my fasted speed yet on this trip, polishing off the last 60km in just under two and a half hours.
It being a Saturday and such lovely weather to boot, farmers markets were springing up all around the Christchurch area. I went to three of them in just one afternoon, delighting in juicy strawberries, homemade fudge, and veggies to roast for dinner. The hostel I found was a female only with beautiful herb garden for the picking run by a friendly German who I took to be a lay nun.
Christchurch is very spread out and has a strong English character with brick laid houses and rose gardens peaking out of every courtyard. But in recent years, it has seen a surge of Japanese immigration, which has brought with it heaps of bilingual signage, sushi takeaways, and spiky haired teens slouching on every corner.
I had originally decided to cycle down to Dunedin and then bus it
back up to catch my flight out of Christchurch, but in lieu of my windy experiences, I am now going to be taking my bike on the bus to Dunedin and cycling back up the coast to meet my flight. Hopefully I will make the 360km journey in five days. Wish me luck!
-Lisa
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kate
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Luck!
Good luck Lisa!!! Never underestimate the power of meat pies! Kate