Changing views
Lake Tekapo - Kaikoura - Kaiteriteri - Abel Tasman - Picton
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We drive to the North and pass Mountain Cook, the highest mountain
of New Zealand. A bit
further
on we camp next to Lake Tekapo. We lay on the grass and enjoy the sun. A smart
sparrow is eating dead insects directly out of the still warm radiator of our
car. The lake is famous for its aquamarine tint and doesn’t disappoint us, the
color peeping through the dark green trees is incredible clear. This tint is
told to be the result of light reflected by tiny particles held in suspension
in the ice water. In the evening, when the sun drops, the lake still stands
out while the tops of the surrounding mountains disappear in the clouds and
the country around pales in the dark.
The next morning we climb Mount John, from where we have a
nice view over lake Tekapo on one side. On the other side we look out over a
brown dead valley, ended by snow topped mountains.
Jac
doesn’t appreciate the walk, he complains about ‘having to carry on like a mule’
(although the climb is not steep at al and covers less than 45 minutes) and
is disappointed by the view, which is nice but not so extremely breathtaking
as we are used to by now! A walk needs to offer interesting, changing views
without demanding strenuous climbs, Jac explains to me. A very challenging statement
I have to say. In Holland I know lots of
walks
which don’t demand strenuous climbs, even in Jacs’ opinion, but what about the
interesting, changing views?? In New Zealand there are lots of walks which offer
interesting views but… I spend some time explaining this to Jac until we are
back again at the lake. The lake looks extremely tempting to our hot bodies.
The temperature of the air is not high, about 19 degrees Celsius, but the sun
is very hot. I want to swim but Jac won’t join me, he lays down next to the
lake and says he already did the walk and that is certainly enough for today.
He ensures me the water is much to cold to swim in.
I
bravely run into the lake, which is colder than any water I have swum in till
now. Unbelievable. But I won’t give Jacques the pleasure of seeing me return
so soon. So I swim until I’m afraid the muscles in my legs will cramp. When
I’m swimming back I suddenly see a pale pink enormous fish jump partly out of
the water. I really don’t like big fish so I swim a world record back to the
beach. ‘Very nice water!’ I explain to a sizzling Jac, ‘Why don’t you try it?’.
We
drive to Kaikoura in the North East of the South Island. We see hills covered
with white blankets of clouds, big rivers that eroded deep gorges in the yielding
ground, soft green country packed with sheep, wide views on the ocean. We have
chosen Kaikoura because we want to see whales. Kaikoura is the best place of
New Zealand to watch whales. Whale watch specialist set up a whole system to
find out and communicate where the whales are. Two or three planes and different
boats stay in contact and report each sighting of a whale. All boats are equipped
with under water cameras and with super sonar equipment. Whales are difficult
to spot, they swim of course in deep water and spend only about 10 minutes above
water to breath, where after they spend in average an hour diving far below
the surface, they can dive to a depth of a couple of kilometers.
The next morning the weather is good. But when we arrive at
the whale watching center the sea has totally disappeared in a heavy mist. We
can’t go whale watching now. Maybe
around
midday the mist will lift, the girl at the counter speculates rather optimistically.
She is used to the disappointments of tourist. We go back to our camping, directly
behind the whale watch center. We sit in the sun, read a bit and watch the mist
crawl closer. The sea is hiding in the clouds. At 11 o’clock we can’t see the
town of Kaikoura anymore. At 12 o’clock the mist is spilling over our camping.
I’m feeling cold and put on some long trousers before we walk back to the whale
watch center, we will have to change our reservations. From the whale watch
center it is almost impossible to see the sea. We enter and our optimistic girl
at the counter says that we needn’t despair, the mist is starting to lift. This
is stretching the optimistic view a bit to far to my idea. But no, she says,
just be patient (as a result of more than two months of holiday I’m really a
bit more patient than before…). After 20 minutes she announces that the view
on the ocean is fairly good by now. We can’t believe it but decide to give it
a try anyway.
When we leave the building we are totally surprised: the mist
has lifted and a bit of sun is peeping through. You have to visit New Zealand
and experience these quick total changes of
weather
to believe it. The whale watch boat has room for about 80 people. It is a very
fast boat. Every seat is equipped with about 15 vomiting bags, these boats are
notorious. But the sea is clear, almost no wind and luckily no mist. Only a
couple of people get sick. Jac out of principle never gets sick and I have no
time. Although they warned us for long waiting periods before we see a whale,
once we spent 20 minutes sailing to the deep water we see three sperm whales
almost directly one after the other. During the minutes the whale spends above
water you see almost nothing of the animal, only a bit of his back (which is
big
enough in itself) from which it spits large fountains of water. Just to be sure
everybody takes a lot of photographs. One word (OK, one sentence) of warning
though: you won’t be impressed with these pictures later on (and your friends
even less) and plus you are in danger of running out of film just before the
moment supreme! The captain tells us exactly when to photograph: ‘He is preparing
his dive, now he goes under, hold your pictures, hold your pictures, now you
see his tail reappearing, wait, wait, …wait, …, yes, now, now, now!!!’ With
a majestic movement the tail raises high above the water, seems suspended for
a moment before it slowly starts to sink and disappears in the water.
A beautiful sight and very impressive, I agree, but I like
the penguins better. Sorry. Maybe because I stood eye to eye with the penguins
and – to be honest – have only
a
vague idea of where the eyes of the whale should be. But still, I wouldn’t have
wanted to miss the experience, the whales have something very ancient. On our
way back we meet large numbers of playful dolphins, dusky dolphins, surfing
on the waves of our boat. They seem to know there are people on the boat watching
them and put on a little show: they speed out from under the boat, jump out
of the water, turn around and swim back under the boat, etcetera. Very nice
to watch these animals, who are clearly having a lot of fun. At last we visit
a rock with the obligatory New Zealand seals, living together with a lot of
cormorants and looking sleepily irritated at yet another tourist boat.
In
the evening we take away an enormous pizza, which we share on our camping with
hungry sea-gulls. Some dominant males spend there time chasing away the competition
(head low, neck long, ruffled feathers, low threatening noises), which keeps
them quite busy so we feed the less dominant ones in the meantime. The sea-gulls
have only one way of eating which consists of trying to put the whole piece
of food in their mouth and struggling to swallow it. We experiment a bit with
bigger and bigger parts of the pizza, but the sea-gulls eat everything without
choking (although it looks now and then like it), quite funny to watch the corners
of the pizza parts sticking on both sides out of the tiny throat.
From Kaikoura we drive to Picton in the North, where we buy
tickets for the passage to the North Island in a couple of
days.
Picton is a picturesque village. Villages in New Zealand are mostly nicer than
the villages in Australia, which are much outspread. Picton is clearly a tourist
place, every tourist visits Picton on his or her way to the other island. But
Picton is more than a tourist place. It has the charm of an old fisherman place,
in the harbor, in the small shops and in the cafeteria’s. We walk around in
the park next to the harbor and eat a large amount of pancakes. Then we follow
the ‘Charlotte Drive’, a very small winding road next to the Charlotte Sounds,
in the direction of Nelson. We have beautiful outlooks on the hills and the
water, not so dramatic as Milford Sound, but here the views create a feeling
of endless space.
In
the uttermost North of the South Island you find the Abel Tasman National Park.
We discover a camping just below the Park, in Kaiteriteri, next to a spotless
beach with white sand and emerald water, just like God intended but didn’t quite
everywhere succeed in. Anyway, no complains here. The sites on the camping are
exceptionally big and when we look around we understand why: most people are
from New Zealand and have a big car, a big caravan enlarged with a big tent
in front and of course a big boat. We need only a very small part of our place
for our tiny tent and ditto car, a ridiculous sight compared to the places next
to us.
The weather is very good and we spend a couple of days at the beach till we are totally filled up with sun. One day, at the end of the afternoon when the temperature drops a bit, we visit the Abel Tasman Park. We drive the tiny road to Marahua. This area is almost Italian with flowers everywhere, small white houses speckled in between high trees on the hills and sudden views on the blue ocean. Luckily no hotels here to spoil the view and no traffic jam on the small road. The road stops in Marahua and from there we continue on foot.
The Abel Tasman Park covers big woods and a lot of coast. A three or four day walk leads from the North to the South of the park (or vice versa) via the coast. We follow this walk for two hours and have incredible views over the ocean to the right of us and over the deep forest to our left. On our way back we climb through the bush to one of the deserted beaches where we sit in the sand in the low light of the evening. Jac announces that this at last is a good walk: interesting, changing views without long strenuous climbs!
In the evening we sit in the camper kitchen and talk with an
eccentric man from the Isle of Man, who spends the English winters over here.
In summer he watches the famous motor races on his island.
Big
black beetles start dropping on the ground, on our clothes, on our hair and
in our tea mugs. A strange phenomenon. In the toilets the ground is covered
with partly splashed beetles. Most people walk around on naked feet, like in
Australia to walk around on naked feet symbolizes freedom. It doesn’t matter
if it is freezing cold, or if you are stumbling over sharp stones on the road
or if you can’t avoid crushing beetles and stepping into puddles of unidentified
substances. I try not to think of all these dirty feet happily diving into sleeping
bags.
After
three days of sun and sea we drive back to Picton and take the ferry to Wellington
on the North Island.
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