View to a thrill
Flooding put mid-Canterbury out of reach for Cate Broughton but the substitute West Coast road trip delivered – in sunshine and rainbows.
A South Island detour brings a tour group close to tears – of joy.
When you escape a sodden and flooded Canterbury for sunshine and rainbows on the West Coast you’ve got to feel your good fortune.
A tour of the South Island with Active Adventures got off to a soggy and late start after three solid days of rain which closed roads and inundated homes throughout the region.
I meet my two Australian tour buddies and guides for a last-minute coffee at Truffle Cafe, Merivale. Our group is depleted after two tourists from Melbourne had their adventure cancelled thanks to a Covid-19 outbreak.
The original plan to head south and tackle Mt John, Aoraki/Mt Cook, and an overnight tramp in Mt Aspiring National Park has been abandoned.
For our small tour group, just a few hours into a rerouted journey north, over the Lewis Pass to the West Coast (the direct route west through Arthur’s Pass was also closed), ‘‘plan B’’ parted clouds and turned on the sunshine.
As we pass the Waipara vineyards, tour guide Greg Ferguson begins one of many impressive commentaries, deftly traversing natural, human and economic history alongside great stories and humour.
As we near the top of the pass, there is child-like excitement at the first sight of snow before we stop at St James Walkway, a Department of Conservation (DOC) area.
We explore the sparse subalpine landscape on a 20-minute loop track before joining the guides at a picnic table perfectly positioned in full sunshine.
Eating our first meal together we take in mountains dusted with fresh snow, ancient beech trees draped with moss, ma¯ nuka/ka¯ nuka trees and matagouri scrub.
Back on the road we pass thick beech forest over the pass before making our descent into the West Coast. On the flat we fly past the brilliant green paddocks and herds of cows before coming to a stop in the historic mining town of Reefton for a wander along the main street.
Continuing southwest we hear of the goldmining history of the region. In the distance across farmland is the Paparoa National Park, and we pass the entrance to the former Pike River mine at Blackball.
After a long stretch of driving, and dozing, we find ourselves heading north and are stunned by a complete change in outlook. The sun is setting to the west over the sea and the rugged coastline spreads out ahead of us, framed by densely forested mountains.
In Punakaiki we’re delivered to the entrance of the Pancake Rocks walking track. The sun is setting rapidly as we are mesmerised by the elegant, stacked rock formations, back-lit by a golden sky and wisps of pink tinged cloud. In the foreground, thick native forest surrounds us, dominated by nikau palms and harakeke bushes.
One of the Australians is bamboozled. ‘‘I can’t believe how beautiful it is,’’ she manages.
Our guides drop us at our cabins where our bags have already been delivered. We join them later for a home-cooked meal at their apartment. These guys are the consummate hosts and offer flawless service, local knowledge and great company.
On day two we head briefly north for a taste of one of the country’s ‘‘great walks’’ in the nearby Paparoa National Park.
As we walk into the valley, surrounded by native bushland, the flowing Pororari River and cavernous limestone mountains, it feels like we’re on the set of Jurassic Park.
Greg explains how Ma¯ ori used the harakeke fibre to make what would become the strongest ropes in the world, the ways Nikau palm trunks were fashioned into bowls or buckets and the medicinal uses of kawakawa leaves.
Back in the van, we’re on the road again heading south. We pass through Barrytown,
Ru¯ nanga, the ‘‘big smoke’’ of Greymouth and on to Hokitika.
We learn of the accidental discovery of gold by Ma¯ ori who were looking for greenstone and the following gold rush from the mid-1860s.
But then it’s lunchtime, and we pull up at the Hokitika Sandwich Company. After a wander around the quaint coastal town we reconvene at the beach beside the town’s iconic driftwood sign, the sun sparkling on the water beyond.
A short while later, passing through the town of Ross, we learn about the heaviest gold nugget discovered in 1909, gifted to King George and later found to have been melted down for a royal tea set.
Heading inland, farmland gives way once again to mountains as we head to our next destination – Franz Josef Glacier. German geologist and explorer Julian von Haast demonstrated true, if predictable, patriotism by naming it after the then Austro-Hungarian emperor in 1865.
But the story behind the glacier’s Ma¯ ori name – Ka¯ Roimata o¯ Hine Hukatere (the tears of Hine Hukatere) – was the most captivating of all.
I felt like crying hearing the tragedy of warrior Wawe who fell to his death while climbing the mountain with his lover, Hine Hukatere. Her tears formed rivers that were frozen by the gods, becoming a permanent glacial memorial to him.
The one-and-a-half-hour walk to the glacier is blocked by a new tributary of the river, so we take a 30-minute route to a platform with a spectacular view. Several photos over time, taken from the same point over the past 100 years, show the frightening acceleration of glacial melt. It is impossible to be unaffected by this confronting example of climate change and the potential impacts on an entire township dependent on its survival.
Lightening the mood, on the way back to the town we spot a bonus natural wonder – a complete full rainbow over a nearby hilltop.
We scream at Greg to stop the van, and he pulls over so we can scramble out to capture this unexpected display of beauty.
Encouraged by my new Australian friends, I manage to get a seat on a Heliservices Fox/Franz scenic helicopter flight the following morning.
Fortune continues to smile on us, and it is a perfect, sun-soaked winter’s day. From the air we can see deep into the cracked glacial crevices and the stunning intricate patterns they create.
We swoop past the mountainsides, lush greenery hanging on to ice-cold rock faces, narrow, thundering waterfalls, all with a backdrop of a blue, cloudless sky.
It’s a brief stop on an expansive snowfield at the top of the glacier. Elated to be in one of the most beautiful places on earth, we desperately take videos in an attempt to capture the moment.
We fly down over Fox Glacier and then, back to earth.
One of my tour mates is momentarily overcome with emotion. Sometimes, being confronted with the wonder of our most magnificent treasures, usually beyond our reach, touches people in ways they don’t expect.
Back on the road we stop briefly at Knights Point Lookout and spot seals lumbering along the beach. And then we’re heading inland again and climbing Haast Pass.
Near the summit we stop for a steep hike through subalpine landscape. We’re struck by the coating of trees and rocks with bright green moss and lichen, the effect creating a haunting, science fiction quality.
Soon, we are driving again, descending into Central Otago, the West Coast forests replaced by golden tussock, distant mountains and the still, blue-grey Lake Ha¯ wea.