Land of the golden sands It’s a place where beaches stretch for kilometres, cycle trails beckon the adventurous, and there’s a sophisticated bar and cafe culture too. By
Brenda Ward.
The mountain bike slews wildly through a patch of soft sand and then grips on a grittier part of the island path. We’re breathing more heavily now that we’ve left the tiny Mapua ferry well behind.
Even though we don’t really need a break, there are intriguing paths to our left, sandy trails disappearing into the pine trees, and we slither to a halt to explore. Suddenly, over the wind, we can hear the surf pounding, inviting and exhilarating, as we trek up the sign-posted dune path.
We have to pause on the crest of the slope. We’re simply transfixed. There’s a vast swathe of sand nearly as far as the eye can see, a pristine beach, and aqua water fringed with the whitest, crispest rollers. We can see just two people far in the distance. This is Rabbit Island. This might well be paradise.
Everywhere that’s scenic in Nelson seems to have a bike trail on it. Cyclists hop onto the city trail for their daily commute, or link into the Great Taste Trail, for a 174-kilometre ramble around the countryside, taking in vineyards, cafes, country pubs and charming settlements.
We see locals and visitors of all ages pedalling here, most in groups of three or more, families, or mates out for an afternoon.
We’ve hired our bikes through Andrew Schwass at Trail Journeys in Mapua, where we steadfastly walk past the e-bikes to the ‘comfort’ stepthrough bikes, with the compulsory gel seats. He grins as he waves us off towards the pier. ‘‘Have fun!’’
As we wait for the little ferry, at Jellyfish restaurant, overlooking the wharf, we demolish a salad of chicken, organic leaves and pine nuts.
When the ferry chugs up, it’s a cyclist’s dream, entered by a ramp, and with bike racks all down one side. The The most iconic shots of Nelson district are of kayaking at Kaiteriteri, to the north of Nelson, at the start of the Abel Tasman National Park. Here it’s possible to kayak for five days around the pristine waters of this untamed region, dotted with homesteads and sandy bays. ride is a quick motor along the estuary bank and across to the island, where a wild storm has knocked out a stand of pines. One of our companions points out the re-routing of the first few metres of the trail.
Our path meanders along the forestry trails and past pretty picnic areas, to the inner harbour, traversing a deeply rutted patch, where we’re wondering if we’re on the right path, until we nearly hurtle into a seasoned rider.
‘‘You’re game!’’ he shouts with a grin, as he swerves vigorously around the furrows.
Back at the ferry, after our circumnavigation of the island, we hear the cyclist telling the staff: ‘‘Look at these guys; they took on the hard route!’’
A little stiffer when we return, we linger in this charming wharf-side town, browsing antiques and kitchen accessories and eating what must be the world’s best berry yoghurt icecream.
That afternoon, we meet up on loungers at the outdoor pool at The Rutherford Hotel, part of the Heritage group, and order a glass of prosecco to celebrate our expedition. The waiter smiles as he delivers his tray. He glances at the water of the pool, gleaming invitingly in the watery sunlight.
One step into the pool and we know why. Summer’s barely over but it’s already freezing. We retreat in shock. Then a mother with two primary schoolkids enters the pool area. Without a thought, the kids leap straight in. And straight out.
Showered and suddenly ravenous, we head to the hotel’s Miyazu Restaurant, where our dinner turns out to be a show as well, a teppanyaki feast of sizzling steak and seafood, chopped and mixed, tossed and flung in bitesize pieces to the diners, healthy and delicious. The meal takes fun with food to a whole new level… airborne.
We have a city to explore. For many years, the World of Wearable Art event was held annually in Nelson, and although the museum is all that remains of the WoW event, the spirit of the unconventional lives on all around. I’ve never seen so many dramatic, statement shoes, work of art hair styles and colourful clothes than in this stylish city.
We wander from the world-class Suter Art Gallery, to craft and jewellery stores, stumbling on the Saturday farmers’ market, a village of tents, trucks and umbrellas. Arrive hungry and be adventurous in your tastes, from a healthy smoothie, to a French crepe smothered in chocolate sauce.
The fruit is irresistible and we arrive at the cheese stall sticky from the juices of succulent peaches.
The boutiques are big-city sophisticated and we try on a blur of outfits, jeans and shoes. Shopped-out and lopsided with carry-bags, we stop for a platter and a glass of great rose at a little cafe.
We’ve been told about a craft beer bar that’s a bit of a locals’ secret. We soon find out why when we fail to spot even the lane where it hides on Achilles Ave. Finally, the sign says Craft Beer Depot, but we must be in the wong place. Surely. There’s just a door, is that a barrel? And an old sofa is tucked deep inside, up a level.
I’m sure we’ve stepped into a student flat. A few more steps inside lead to a rustic bar, mismatched chairs and a handful of locals tasting the small batch brews crafted by Brendan and his mates. Here they’re open seven days for pints, riggers, tasting trays, bottles, cans, whisky and more.
Beers are labelled on a chalkboard 1, 2, 3 – you get the gist! Be warned, if you ask Brendan for a story, you’ll be here a while.
We’ve passed so many restaurants, our appetites have been sparked for hours, and we barely know where to start.
Finally the decision is made for us. We’ve taken over a precarious ledge by the door at the heaving Urban Eatery and we can see plates laden with the stickiest ribs, but hip thirtysomethings are overflowing into the street, so we move on to a quieter restaurant with a European vibe.
La Goumandise is a bistro that sits in a 1920s stained glass-windowed shop, but could be off a lane in the Left Bank. Here you can dine on duck and crispy roasted potatoes, or just duck in for a galette, the savoury buckwheat crepes famous in France. Accents that are tres authentique echo in the background as we plan our next day.
The most iconic shots of Nelson district are of kayaking at Kaiteriteri, to the north of Nelson, at the start of the Abel Tasman National Park. Here it’s