SOUTH ISLAND SPLENDOUR
Jared Ruttenberg explores rivers, mountains and glaciers on a cross-island adventure in the ‘Land of the Long White Cloud’
We sat waiting rather impatiently for a lucky break in the clouds. Several of the flights before and after ours had been cancelled because of heavy fog and cloud cover. I’m not sure why I was surprised: this was, after all, Aotearoa, the Maori name for New Zealand, which loosely translates as “land of the long white cloud”.
Our anxiety was fairly well-founded; the trip had been meticulously planned and would involve planes, trains, and helicopters — all to explore one of the most dramatically beautiful places on Earth. The voice on the speakers suddenly announced that boarding was happening, and the fidgety crowd made a beeline for the gate in Wellington on the North Island.
Minutes later we were South-Island bound, flying high above a cloud that seemed to stretch the length of the horizon.
While this trip would take in some spellbinding landscapes, it was also a deeper journey. The tragic passing of my father during the pandemic had been exacerbated by New Zealand’s tight borders, meaning I was only able to visit three months later — the challenge of a globally spread family as I live in SA.
This was a necessary mother-and-sontrip that would allow nature to both nurture and usher in the beginning of a healing process. That is one of travel’s gifts, where wild landscapes provide perspective and invite healing through beauty.
Our South Island sojourn would begin in Christchurch, then traverse the breadth of the island and finally explore the west coast, before the journey back home.
‘More English than England’
Christchurch is the South Island’s most populous city and parts of it bear an uncanny resemblance to Oxford, after which much of it was intentionally modelled. Following the River Avon as it winds through town — in the comfort of a traditional punting boat — it’s hard to imagine you’re not in the UK. Our guide joked that the city is “sometimes more English than England”.
The 2010 and 2011 earthquakes had a devastating effect, but a decade later the city seems to have a new lease of life. Most people know someone who was affected and, as a local told me, while the shocks were strong, so was the resilience of the population.
Hagley Park is the large and central green lung of the city, proudly wearing its autumn coat when we arrived. Our home base while exploring the town was The George Hotel, set on the fringe of the park. Initially catching my attention as the city’s only certified boutique five-star hotel, we quickly realised it was not only the location but also the hospitality and finer details that set the property apart.
As sheep famously outnumber Kiwis almost six-fold, the melt-in-the-mouth Lumina lamb rump served up at the inhouse 50Bistro was a must-eat. Consider it the lamb equivalent of Wagyu beef: finely marbled, 100% natural, free-range, grassfed and finished on specially cultivated chicory herb pastures.
As avid wine sippers, my mother and I were keen to taste our way through a few of the wineries. Much of the Canterbury hinterland is used for viticulture with roughly 75 estates calling the region home. Here, riesling and pinot noir dominate the plantings.
The amusingly-named Cheeky Wine Tours led us to George’s Road Wines (georgesroadwines.co.nz), where owner Kirk Bray guided us through his family of boutique wines, and the intimate tasting room of Torlesse (torlesse.co.nz), where I was delighted to discover a verdelho.
Picture the fragrant viognier producing a love child with a crisp sauvignon and you have a verdelho.
Alp yourself
Finally it was time for the activity around which the trip had been envisioned. In planning my New Zealand visit, I’d read about a tourist train that traverses the breadth of the South Island — including tunnelling directly through the Southern Alps. The TranzAlpine (greatjourneysofnz.co.nz/tranzalpine) begins its epic 224km journey in Christchurch and ends in Greymouth, on the west coast, four hours later.
The carriages are split between seats arranged around tables (used to accommodate groups or families) and rows of comfy, padded seats.
The audio commentary offers insight and anecdotes along the way, including
an introduction to some entertaining characters, such as a devious hotel owner who would reportedly deepen the river, forcing desperate motorists to use his crossing services for a fee.
Along the journey the landscape shifts from farmlands to deep ravines where glacier-blue water and white river sands are cradled by forest-fringed cliffs.
Approaching the mountains, the track takes in four viaducts and 15 tunnels, adding to the thrill — and, of course, best enjoyed from the open-air viewing carriage.
After the fresh air, the dining cabin’s kitchen provides coffee to help guests defrost, followed by tasty lamb shanks (with a glass or two of bubbly somewhere in between).
Possibly the most impressive part of the journey is transversing the Southern
Alps — the mountainous backbone that runs 80km down the South Island.
The Alps are the meeting place of two colliding tectonic plates, forming the Alpine fault — a natural phenomenon so dramatic that it’s easily visible from space. These tempestuous plates cause the range to rise 5mm-8mm per year.
Erosion, however, reduces them by a similar amount annually. To give you an idea, if no erosion took place the mountain would today reach a staggering altitude of 20km — Everest is 8,849m.
At the Alps’ height of 2,500m, crossing the range is still an engineering feat, accomplished through a steep tunnel in which an additional engine is required to provide a boost along the incline of the track. Eventually, the journey levels out to swampy waterways until it ends in Greymouth.
On ice
Our hired car would take us the final two hours of the journey to Franz Josef, the west coast village named after its resident glacier.
Soon after we arrived there was another lucky break in the cloud and within minutes the snow-laden mountains that once towered above now lay underneath as one of the Helicopter Line choppers whisked over the white peaks and valleys of the Kã Tiritiri o te Moana —“frothing waters of the ocean”.
The glacier is the largest of the 3,000 in the country. As a result of global warming, its total mass has seen a 40% reduction since the mid-19th century. It’s a 10-minute flight up and then, weather-permitting, a short landing and break on the glacier.
The silence, grandeur, and utter otherness of the place was spellbinding. Once my jaw lifted from the ground, I became giddy with delight, prancing about, making snow angels and almost forgetting to take a few snaps for some Insta-feed envy.
Back in town at Rainforest Retreat (rainforest.nz), the tropical sanctuary lived up to its name. A gentle rain began to clothe the forest, with the shifting clouds offering occasional glimpses of the mountains nearby.
Our treehouse spa bath provided the space for necessary reflection. With a glass of sparkling wine in hand, a toast was in order as we looked back on an exceptional journey through a land where the collision of elements has created one of the planet’s most dynamic landscapes.