Saturday, March 31, 2007

Swamped in Akaroa (Mar. 28-30)

So we may have left Amberely a little too soon, as we’ve encountered some crappy, rainy weather these past few days. We’re at Onuku Farm Hostel just outside of Akaroa right now, originally a French settlement and now a small tourist town on the harbor on the Banks Peninsula, only an hour or so from Christchurch. Banks Peninsula is actually an extinct volcano jutting out of the east coast south of Chch, and has some tremendous views of the harbor that cuts its way north from the sea. This is at least what we’ve been told, as we drove in the clouds on the way in, and are marooned in the mist in the mountainside hostel right now. Hopefully the weather will break by Friday when we leave, or we’ll be bumming about having come to Akaroa in the worst weather of the past few weeks…

The outdoor kitcken at Onuku Farm Hostel

Update – Good news! Friday morning provided gorgeous weather in Akaroa: blue skies, sun shining, birds singing, etc etc. We could actually see stuff, it was terrific. With the first nice weather in days, we felt we had to do a small hike in Akaroa and take the scenic drive out of town. The drive was great, taking us along the ridgelines of the volcanic mountaintops and providing breathtaking views of the harbor and the outer edges of the peninsula. The weather almost made the entire previous day’s mope of sitting in the hostel with other similarly disheartened travelers, mostly Germans if you were wondering, worthwhile. I say almost because it was a pretty damn sad mope-a-thon; most of the people there couldn’t be bothered to even put some music on. C’mon people, when life hands you lemons, you don’t just say “I have a citrus allergy”!

The gorgeous view of the Banks Peninsula

Before leaving K&B’s, I got a proper look at the winery on Thursday. As it’s harvest time right now, it’s totally abuzz with activity, especially since the bottling truck was in for the day. After working the dual-head filler at Brew Moon and cranking out several hundred bottles a day, I was quite able to appreciate a machine that could do hundreds an hour with much less human labor input. Kieran, you need to get something like that at the brewery, man! We gather that harvest time is like tax season for wineries, as Belinda said she’ll be working at least 12 hours a day/7 days a week for the next few weeks. Picking grapes, cleaning barrels, bottling, processing grapes, it apparently all comes to a head at this time. But if we’ve ever met someone equipped to work tirelessly for weeks at a time, it would probably be Belinda, which might explain how she finds herself in this line of work, I suppose.

The automatic bottling works at Muddy Water

On leaving K&B’s, we immediately had to come to grips with our itinerant, peripatetic lifestyle again, making trips to the grocery store and gas station, and having to pay for lodging once again. It’s amazing how quickly you get used to staying in one place, and not having to shell out every day for the basic necessities. With all the travel we’ve been doing, we’ve learned to appreciate thriftiness. Even when you can nominally afford it, it’s a good feeling to give the wallet a rest.

These are perhaps the cutest cows I've ever seen... they have teddy bear ears!

But I’m sure we’ll get in the swing of traveling around again soon, and the desultory weather might be a large part of our angst right now. After we leave Akaroa, we’re planning to make our way down the coast to Dunedin this weekend, then on to our next wwoofing spot, a backpackers in the Catlins. We’ve heard plenty of good things about the Catlins, so we’re pretty keen to get there. The hostel promises free surfing lessons for its wwoofers, so plan on seeing some pictures of us flopping around in the Southland surf sometime soon. We may also get to do some work with penguin conservation there, which sounds quite cool as well. Suppose we’ll see…

Becky enjoying the view at Lookout Rock

Andrew in front of the Akaroa Harbor

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Becky Gets Muddy (Middlemarch-ish)

During our stay in Amberley, I had the opportunity on several occasions to work with Belinda at the Muddy Water winery when the workload required extra hands. Although I’m usually known as Andrew’s designated beer buddy, it provided an interesting chance to branch out and experience the finer side of alcohol production.

My task in my first trip to Muddy Water (interestingly, it’s the English translation of Waipara, the area in which the wine is produced) was to help in the labeling and “noodling” of the wine bottles for a large overseas shipment to the U.S. Overseas wine bottles contain all the additional warnings and nutrition information required by the country in which it will be sold. The labels for the States are especially wordy, as we must read a mile-long disclaimer before being allowed to consume an alcoholic beverage. The upshot is that we can’t say we weren’t warned about operating a bulldozer under the influence of a crisp Sauvignon Blanc.

A view of the winery

Helpfully, Kieran brought in his nifty labeling machine from the brewery (just one of the benefits of having a brewer and a winemaker in the same family!), so while the rest of the winery staff laboriously hand-applied labels, I zipped through a couple hundred bottles with ease with his fantabulous contraption. At the same time, the bottles also require “noodles,” a strip of gray adhesive (they’re only shaped like a noodle; they definitely don’t taste like one) placed over the top of the screw cap. As an aside, unbound by antiquated traditions, most NZ wineries have gone over to screw caps instead of corks, which I fully support. Although the noodle strip can be, and usually is, claimed by the pro-noodle faction to function as an anti-tampering device, word round the campfire suspects that they’re mostly used because management likes the noodle-rific aesthetics.

I’ll reserve further comment, as noodles are an unexpectedly controversial issue at MW. But…when one calculates the man hours required to put little strips of adhesive on each bottle to go through the winery, one wonders whether the whole enterprise is really worth it? Obviously someone above my pay grade thinks so, so my first day at the winery was chock full of oodles of noodles, as it were.

Payment that first day came in the form of two bottles of wine: the 2004 and 2005 vintages of Muddy Water’s pinot noir, given for comparative purposes. Verdict: they both taste like wine! OK I’m mostly kidding. For the 2005 version, diagnosis: delicious! As for the 2004 version, we also thought it was good until Belinda told us it had a bit of sulfur character, at which point we were convinced we could discern it as well. We must say it was nice of her to give us the unvarnished scoop, as she probably could’ve convinced us it tasted like anything, given our knowledge of wine. All in all, the bottles of wine were a great bonus, as I considered this to be just another day in the life of a WWOOFer, no payment necessary. Jane, if you happen to be reading this post, and are still reading even after all the talk of pro-noodle factions, we’ve already drank the wine, so we can’t give it back at this point, sorry!

Work at the winery isn’t all noodles and labels, however. I also had the opportunity to work for a few days harvesting grapes (my first stint as a migrant laborer!). The grapes came in a bit riper than expected for this time of the season, so the harvest kicked into full swing earlier than anticipated. Belinda asked if I wouldn’t mind picking some grapes, and I decided that it would be a great idea, even with the 6:30 AM start time. Early in the morning is the best time to be out in the vineyard anyway, before the sun is really up and while the air is still cool.

Grape picking is just as you would imagine it to be – fairly tedious and a touch back-breaking. It’s just hard to be bent over for that many hours of the day. I’m really impressed by people who work for the whole harvest, although I like to imagine that I would have worked my way into “picking shape” before too long.

Rows of grapes just waiting to be picked!

On the plus side, working outside is enjoyable, and you do get a fair amount of satisfaction out of filling your bucket with grapes. And after months of unemployment, a few extra dollars going into the wallet was a nice change of direction, fiscally speaking. I was almost tempted to stay on for the rest of the harvest, as we’d really been enjoying our time in Amberley, but figured that long-term fruit picking probably wasn’t for me, and truth be told, wasn’t too eager to find out. Which is funny because I really did enjoy all the time I spent working in the garden the last few weeks (mostly weeding). On the other hand, gardening does provide a variety of tasks, as opposed to the monotony of grape picking.

Another photo of the newly weeded garden

In the end, I really enjoyed the time that I got to spend at the winery. Our travels are always pretty beer-intensive, so it was fun to learn about winemaking for a change. And it seems that our time enjoying quality wines at Kieran and Belinda’s is already paying shocking dividends, in that Andrew and I might have actually started to develop some sort of wine palate! To wit: we bought a cheapo NZ$7 bottle of wine to drink with our pasta dinner during our first night back at a hostel (mostly to console ourselves on leaving after a few great weeks). After the initial sips, we simultaneously wrinkled our noses. Apparently, the cheap stuff just won’t do anymore. As such, we’re looking forward to enjoying the bottle of wine we were generously given for our efforts at the Waipara Wine & Food Festival – Muddy Water’s most fabulous (read: expensive) wine, the Mojo Pinot Noir. A great gift, we’ll enjoy it while celebrating my upcoming birthday.

Saturday, March 17, 2007

North Canterbury Tales (Mar. 17 – 28)

So after our first week in Amberley, we’d had such a good time that we were keen to stay on longer and continue to help out at the farm and the brewery. Luckily, Kieran and Belinda were also happy to have us continue wwoofing as well, so we extended our time in Amberley for another busy week and a half.
Back at the big red farm house...

We should first mention that staying with a winemaker and brewer certainly has its merits. Seriously, Becky and I are now experts on the Brew Moon beers and most of the Muddy Water wines. Although I remain extremely suspect to suggestion when tasting wines, so hopefully K&B are steering us in the right direction there…

Add in the fact that we ate really well the entire time, and from a gustatory standpoint we had a fantastic few weeks here in the North Canterbury area. Dinners have been great, with plenty of vegetables from the garden, lamb, and pears, especially. K&B have a pear tree that is ridiculously laden with fruit, so we’ve been thinking up as many uses for pears as possible, with pears usually in dessert somewhere. Muffins, cobbler, crisp, poached pears in wine, we’ve really run the gamut for pear possibilities I think.

This display almost put me (Becky) off the meat again, but then dinner was so delicious...

At the brewery, Kieran and I did more brewing, cleaning, bottling, and labeling, and I think I acquitted myself well in the end. I must have appeared like I knew what I was doing in the brewery, since Kieran would occasionally ask me technical questions or my opinion on things. Hopefully my answers didn’t steer us too far afield! Although I must say I think I got the hang of bottling, as I’m now known as the ‘Automated Bottling Machine’ in certain parts of Amberley.

On the farm, Becky spent a lot more time in the garden, mostly weeding anything that moved in the garden. A few of the sections were her favorite type of weeding, pulling everything indiscriminately, so that you know you can’t make a mistake and pull the wrong thing. Becky also did heaps of other things on the farm as well, plaiting and planting garlic, feeding the chooks and horses, and trying to prevent Moses, Belinda’s parents’ dog who was staying for a few days, from buggering off back to their house a few km away. It was mostly a success; the chooks got fed, and Moses stayed at home more days than not.

He may look sweet and innocent (if a little bit scruffy), but Moses used to be a well-known chicken killer before he saw the light and mended his ways

I helped at the farm a bit as well, mostly in skimming some of the paths, basically ripping up the grass that had grown there. Take our word for it, the grass didn’t seem keen on being ripped up. Kieran and I also did some lumberjack-type stuff, cutting down a pine tree and splitting firewood with a hydraulic ram. It’s good fun and really the only way to do a heap of firewood; using an axe is for the birds. Taking down the pine tree also gave me a chance to drive the tractor down the road laden with huge logs. I’m not sure why Kieran thought I’d be good at it, but I didn’t lose the logs or ram anyone, so it seemed to go OK. And I now think that everyone should drive a tractor at some point in their life, so thanks Kieran.

An aerial view of the garden, sans weeds

We also worked the farmer’s market in Lyttelton, just south of Christchurch, for Brew Moon on a couple Saturdays as part of our wwoofing work. We have to say it was really good fun, giving samples and selling beer at the market, which was easily the best farmer’s market we’ve seen in NZ so far. We had absolutely gorgeous weather two weeks in a row for the market, which is quite helpful when you’re trying to sell beer. Our first day at the market also coincided with St. Patrick’s Day, and while it’s not as big of a drinking holiday here as in the States, was quite helpful in trying to persuade people to try beers samples before noon. We sold a lot of beer that day, and did pretty well the next week as well.

Andrew sellings his wares at the farmers' market

On a similar note, we also helped to sell wine for Muddy Water at the Waipara Food & Wine Festival on Sunday, a few days ago. We had a great time pouring and tasting wine, listening to jazz, and seeing people walk around in wine-induced stupors in the afternoon sun. How people can drink heaps of wine in 30C sunny weather is beyond me, but to each their own. To be fair though, I did really find it helpful to taste a number of the Muddy Water wines to really pick out the differences (Note to my brother Adam: please don’t take this to mean that I’ll be able to follow you when you’re talking about wines now).

Our sweet ride to the Lyttleton farmers' market

Whew, I get tired just thinking of all the stuff we did these past few weeks! All in all, we have to say we had a great time, worked hard, ate and drank extremely well, and learned a lot. Many thanks to Kieran and Belinda, who couldn’t have been more gracious or accommodating, putting us up and making us feel at home. You’ve made it hard to leave, but worry not, as we’ll definitely be back on our way up through the country later this year!

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Amberley Alert (Mar. 9-16)

While on the west coast in the first week of March, we got a call back from one of the places we’d inquired at about wwoofing. Not to complain about the travel we’ve gotten to do, but after the past few weeks of driving we, not to mention our wallets, were feeling like it was time to get off the road and to get a bit of rest from driving and sightseeing. With that in mind, we were keen to do some wwoofing to earn the extended accommodations, even if we did have to criss-cross back to the Christchurch area to do so.

Kieran and Belinda's big red farmhouse in Amberley

I was particularly interested in this wwoofing spot because the hosts own Brew Moon Brewing, a microbrewery in Amberley that produces a line of 4 beers: a pale ale, a brown ale, a stout, and an organic IPA. Given my interest in beer, this is pretty much the hot setup (as our official source for longrifles, Scott, might say) for me as far as wwoofing hosts go. Brew Moon is basically a one-man operation run by Kieran, a Kiwi bloke whose partner, Belinda, is also an accomplished winemaker at Muddy Water Winery. We suspect that my brother Adam (semi-pro beverage enthusiast) would be quite jealous of this arrangement, as he would likely be in heaven being able to stay with a couple like this.

The Brew Moon Cafe

Belinda and Kieran (hereafter B&K) live on a farm outside of Amberley, surrounded by other farms and wineries, which are multiplying like rabbits (or possums, rather, since this is NZ) throughout the north Canterbury countryside. The grape-growing fever probably won’t subside until growers are precluded from drawing aquifer water, or America’s taste for NZ Sauvignon Blanc is finally sated. It’s probably an even-money proposition at this point.

Their farm is a pretty little spot of farmland only about 10-15 km from the sea and has nice views of the surrounding mountains. They have chooks (chickens), cattle, and several horses, as Kieran is quite a horse enthusiast, having broken and trained racehorses for much of his life. Becky is much more familiar with the horses, but from memory I can recall Clyde, Jimmy, Blue, Wendell and Kermit. If I missed anyone, sorry boys. Come to think of it, my Uncle Bill, who raises racehorses as well, might also be envious of our wwoofing location.

Blue posing for the camera, while Wendell and Kermit look on

At the moment, Canterbury is ‘dry as’, and is often ridiculously gusty, at least to us, but until it starts slamming doors and windows it doesn’t seem to bother B&K much. On one of the nights we stayed here, Becky and I were literally (seriously, not figuratively) woken up every 15 minutes by the howling wind. If Rodgers and Hammerstein had been from NZ, the song probably would go: Cannnnnnnnnnn-ter-bu-ry, where the wind comes sweepin’ down the plain…

Fortunately, unlike our first wwoofing experience (see the posts on Tony in the Coromandel), we’ve gotten along swimmingly with B&K. It probably helps that we have a few more common interests, but also that they seem to have neither a creepy streak nor a poorly disguised distaste for all things American. B&K actually lived in California with their children for several years a few years back and had a positive experience, as they appreciated country music, blues, New Orleans, and most shockingly for Kiwis, hot peppers! Compared to Tony, where we were ready to leave his house after a week - especially after we determined he’d never teach us to turn on the lights - we were quite happy to stay at K&B’s an additional week.

Kieran and Belinda pose by Old Glory

For much of our first week here, I’ve helped in the brewery while Becky has helped out doing odd chores on the farm. Brewing, transferring beer, cleaning kettles, bottling, labeling, standing on top of fermenters running hot water to melt the ice on a malfunctioning chiller, you name it and I’ve probably done it this week at the brewery. It’s been a great experience though, and very cool to see the practical side of making beer in a small-scale microbrewery setting.

Andrew stirring up a fine brew

Our first week here has been really pretty busy, with early rises and early bedtimes. As noted above, K&B have found many ways to fill our time. Not that we’re complaining; on the contrary, it’s been good to be busy and productive. After so much traveling, you start to feel more than a little decadent doing nothing but spending money and sightseeing, which takes away from the fun of it all. So wwoofing here has been good for us from that aspect. And we’d also feel badly sitting around while K&B worked hard around us. We should also mention that K&B seem to spend very little time idly; in particular, Belinda is a force of nature. Up at sunrise, biking to/from work, working all day, cooking, gardening on days off, riding her horse, administrative work on the computer, we get tired just thinking of all the non-stop work – Belinda we salute you!

The Brew Moon beerworks

Trying to be mindful that some readers aren’t into the whole extended post thing, I’ll try to wrap this up quickly. But this did try to cover an entire eventful week, so hopefully you’ll understand. In any event, we’ll probably have more about the rest of our time in Amberley later. Until then, this is A&B signing off…

Saturday, March 10, 2007

Schnauzer Sighting in NZ!

Andrew and I really do appreciate all the comments left on our blog. We check them regularly; more often than we should admit, as Internet time here is really expensive. It's just nice to know that there are people out there (loved ones and strangers alike) reading about our travels in New Zealand. We know that the site meter keeps going up, but it's nice to be able to attach some personal thoughts to the growing numbers (many of which are probably from us checking for new comments...).

As such, we always try to respond to any questions or suggestions left on Green with NZ. Ask and you shall receive! This one is for Cousin Otto from Fort Myers, FL, who recently requested a schnauzer sighting in NZ. This handsome fellow was spotted on a small beach in Tauranga on the North Island.


Several weeks ago, I caught sight of two kiwi gentlemen taking an evening stroll along the water. One of them was escorted by the schnauzer. When they stopped to chat, I made sure to get a photograph of the dog... just for Otto and family! See... we even preemptively aim to please.
Just another note for all the many people planning to place a phone call to me or Andrew, and I know that there are lots of you out there. With the recent springing forward and falling back for daylight savings time, Andrew and I are now eight hours behind you tomorrow (for those on the east coast). Six hours behind (and tomorrow) already made calling home difficult, but we're up to the challenge of the eight hour time difference!

Thursday, March 08, 2007

Mt. Cook/Tekapo (Mar. 7-8)

As we mentioned in the last post, we had no luck in Wanaka, so we cruised out to Omarama, out in the high country of Otago. It’s a pretty flat and dry area of the country, set among some impressive mountain ranges, with the huge Southern Alps on the western edge.

View from Buscot Station. The photograph doesn't do justice for what is really beautiful countryside.

Confession is good, so we’ll cop to calling ahead and getting a reservation at a certain backpackers, but once we pulled into their driveway, Becky announced that it looked a “little too Bates Motel-ish” and that she wasn’t going to stay there. I had to admit that the place looked nearly empty and a bit like a real abattoir, unlike The Old Slaughterhouse, so we drove down the road to another hostel. The next hostel didn’t suggest a creepy horror movie, so we got a couple beds there instead. I think we made the right choice, though we probably should’ve called to cancel at the other place. Not that they looked like they’d be anywhere near full that evening, but still.

Buscot Station in Omarama - much more inviting than our other choice of backpackers! If only I had gotten a photo of the lamb nibbling at the rose bushes...

The hostel we did stay at was interesting, as it was in a rather standard farmhouse (with an extra set of dorms over a garage) on a working farm, and most of the facilities were in the actual house. It was a weird juxtaposition, being one of 20-some backpackers eating dinner, watching TV, and waltzing around the kitchen in a regular house with family pictures up and all that. The hostel was nice, but imagine that many people being in your house at one time – the facilities in a typical home are just not enough, which was the case there.

Approaching Mt. Hook, kiwi-style (or with many sheep)

The next day, we didn’t really have much of a plan lined up, but when we woke up and saw that the weather was fine, we decided to go to Mt. Cook, the country’s highest mountain. We were really close to the area, wanted to see it, and had no other plan for the day, so who were we not to check it out? At this time we’d like to thank the gods of travel, who made up for the terrible weather at Franz Josef with the gorgeousity of our day at Mt. Cook.

Andrew posing in front of the snow capped mountain peaks

As the highest mountain in NZ, Mt. Cook, which is only about 40km from the sea, is often obscured by clouds. We met a German girl in a hostel earlier in our trip who waited 5 days at the base of the mountain, hoping to get some good weather so that they could get good views. Unfortunately for her, good weather didn’t materialize in her whole week there, and she left without getting to see it. Her experience seems to be quite common; the owner of our hostel in Omarama bought a video of Mt. Cook so that all the disappointed backpackers at his hostel who couldn’t see it in person due to the weather could at least see it on TV. So basically we hadn’t made plans to see the mountain at this point, but lucked into some postcard-quality weather and got to see Mt. Cook. Apparently it’s better to be lucky than good planners - we’ll take it!

Andrew surveying the clear view to the peaks

While at Mt. Cook, we also did a quick 2-hr hike in the area, up Mt. Sebastopol, where we got some great views and saw the Red Tarns, unusual copper-colored lakes. It was a great hike, basically nothing but steps uphill, a nice change from all the flat walks we’ve been on lately. We got a nice little workout and also found out that pancakes make for good trail food, who knew?

Becky with the Red Tarns below

To finish the day, we picked up groceries in the small town of Twizel, a must-stop if for no other reason than the inevitable caption for such a photo. We decided to crash in Lake Tekapo, just a bit further on, famous for its blue water, old church, and statue of a border collie. This combination must be tourist gold, as hordes of buses pull up into the town parking lot all day, their tourists flooding out, frantically snapping pictures of the statue, church, and lake. It might be a case of ‘you had to be there’, but it was pretty hilarious to see the scene replay itself exactly the same way, over and over again. Most of the people didn’t look like they knew why it was a particularly photo-worthy scene, only that the bus stops there, so they darn well will be getting their obligatory photo-ops. A place you don’t want to be: between a busful of tourists and the scene of their next photo op. We’d rather be between a mama bear and its cub; it would likely be a more dignified way to go out…

As the editor of blog posts and photos, I (Becky) must confess that I have no idea what the "inevitable caption for such a photo" would be. Any suggestions from our readers? Otherwise, I'll have to ask Andrew...

The border collie statue at Lake Tekapo. Seriously, heaps of tourists stop here to take photos of this dog. He does look very important up there on the rock...


Monday, March 05, 2007

Wild Western Shores, Part Three (Mar. 4-6)

Once we left Karamea, we figured we’d take our time cruising down the west coast, enjoying the fine weather and the drive (one of the many to claim to be the best in NZ, but definitely a contender in our minds). Our first stop was Punakaiki, home to a cool geological formation, Pancake Rocks (mmm pancakes), where if you’ve arrived at high tide and have a favourable wind you can see some awesome sea spray displays. Unfortunately we got there a little past high tide (blame staying up ‘til 3 AM on the beach the night before), and there was no wind, but we still found the rocks to be rather impressive.


Pancake Rocks formations

We crashed at a backpackers in the area that night, which was pretty cool since it was located in a rainforest, and our dorm was in its own building, complete with kitchen and bathroom. The kitchen was a bit odd since it was basically a greenhouse, a cool novelty even for us jaded veteran backpackers. We tried to check out the beach there, but had to leave after about 15 minutes as the sandflies were eating us alive again; I think we’ll make like everyone else here and give up on trying to sit on the beaches on the west coast at this point.

On the next day, we headed further south through Greymouth to The Old Church in Ross, basically in the middle of nowhere on the west coast. We had to make a stop in Hokitika to pick up a case of beer from Renaissance, and it was amazing to see the difference a week made in Hoki. The week before, there was literally one or two people on the street, but on this day there were at least a couple dozen, most of whom were probably there to catch the Hokitika Wildfoods Fair at the end of the week. Good to see there’s occasionally life in Hoki. As Brendon was telling us, it’s sure to get crazy this coming weekend at the Fair, with visitors more than quadrupling the town’s usual population.


The Old Church in Ross

After Hoki we continued down to Franz Josef, home to the famous glacier of the same name. Since the mountains here are tall and are so close to the sea, they trap rain clouds at high altitude, dumping heaps of snow into the incredibly fast-moving glaciers (1m/day usually). Unfortunately, we found bad weather, driving rain and fog, as we drove into town, which severely limited any views of the glacier and made driving pretty miserable. We did see heaps of senior citizens there, most of whom were dismayed at the weather and the brief hikes to the viewpoints. At some point we’d like to check out the glaciers, and will probably have to do guided glacier hike when Becky’s mom comes to NZ. The bad weather continued the next day as we made our way to Wanaka.

A view of the glacier... but just barely

When we got to Wanaka, we figured we’d be able to get a room somewhere, as we haven’t been shut out in other town previously. I mention that because of course, we got shut out in Wanaka, no room in the inn for Andrew and Becky. It seems that just about everyone staying at a backpackers in town had decided to stay in town and not go anywhere due to the weather. Not that we necessarily blamed them, but c’mon, we drove 4-5 hrs from the west coast, it couldn’t be that hard. Although when it was raining sideways on the coast in Haast, we wondered for a few fleeting moments if we shouldn’t have just hung out at the glacier for another day.

A rainy day at the Glaciers

I suppose we could’ve snagged a hotel room in Wanaka, but that goes against our backpackers’ ethics, as it would’ve run us at least NZ$80 for a night, so no thanks, and we drove on to the next town, Omarama. We did get a chance to check out Wanaka though, and based on our brief recon, we think we’ll try and do the winter there, getting jobs, a place to stay, and all the acoutrements. Methven was also a consideration, but the size and speed of Wanaka appeal to us, as it’s not a big and crazy resort town like Queenstown, and isn’t as small and quiet as Methven. Not to mention that Wanaka’s setting amidst the mountains and lakes is absolutely killer. Hopefully it’ll work out for us to winter in Wanaka, stay tuned…

They remove their own labels at Wanaka Beerworks. Just like Andrew does at home!

Friday, March 02, 2007

Instant Karamea – West Coast, Part Two (Mar. 1-3)

Leaving the Old Slaughterhouse, we left northward for Karamea, described as a “real end-of-the-road town”, which is a funny concept in a country that seems to consist largely of similar small towns such as NZ. In fact, you can’t even describe most small towns in NZ as a “one-stoplight town,” as roundabouts are the traffic-routing mechanism of choice here. I have to say, it’s a concept I can get behind, since they do seem to be more efficient than traffic lights, and they allow you to act like a Formula One driver and cruise around them at a good rate of speed.

Oparara Arch in Karamea

Karamea is a small town though, with not a lot going on. It’s like the west coast version of Collingwood, which is fitting since both towns bookend the Heaphy Track, a Great Walk in NZ that we briefly considered walking. I say briefly because we don’t have the gear to do a trip like that now, sleeping bags and such, as they would suck up the little remaining room that isn’t taken up yet in Ron Burgundy. Also, there’s no good way to get from Collingwood back to Karamea, so after walking for 4 days you need to take a 6-7 hr bus ride back through winding mountain roads; not exactly an appealing idea. Or maybe we’re just rationalizing not doing it ‘cause we’re lazy. I guess we’ll never know…

Morias Gate in Karamea

We decided to stay in Rongo Lodge, which Grae at Beaconstone described as “pretty hippie.” This was funny to us because after meeting Grae, a guy who built an eco-friendly lodge in the bush of the west coast of New Zealand complete with composting toilets, we had trouble envisioning people who could be hippier than Grae, yet functional enough to run a successful backpackers. Turns out he was right, though.

The exterior of Rongo Lodge

Rongo is pretty easy to spot while you’re driving through Karamea, as it’s the only house in town that’s painted like a rainbow. At that point we decided Grae was probably right about the hippie thing. We had tried to call ahead and reserve beds at Rongo, but no one had answered our 3 calls, so we had made other accommodations at the Last Resort. However, after we went to the Last Resort, we found it was a pretty sad motel with a dorm room, no kitchen, and a depressing vibe. We stopped by Rongo, found out they had room, so Becky went back to Last Resort and made up a lame story about me being sick. Sorry Last Resort, but you really need a kitchen! Well, that and about a half dozen other things that make up a decent hostel. I may have to make a list sometime.

Andrew, professional cave explorer

Rongo it was then. On the whole, we really enjoyed it there, as the rooms were fine, the vibe was excellent with lots of friendly travelers, and best of all, free WiFi! If you could gorge yourself on WiFi, then I did our first evening there, spending about 4 hours reading the internet. Good ol’ internet. Interestingly, Rongo also operates its own little radio station out of a garage, broadcasting an endearingly eclectic selection of music around Karamea. Perhaps unsurprisingly, bands like Sublime, Bob Marley, and the Allman Brothers seemed to be most popular on RongoFM, possibly because they go well with sitting around the nightly fire in the parking lot.

On our second night at Rongo, there was plenty of face-painting and they were throwing a Mexican feast in honor of one of the woofer’s birthdays, to which all were invited, making for a nice evening of food and conversation. Later, a group was leaving to make a midnight bonfire on the beach under a full moon, so we thought why not?, and went along for the ride.

We packed about ten of us into the back of an old truck, and headed down to the beach, where we cruised through a few rivers to get to the site. I should note that beaches on the west coast are basically uniformly covered in driftwood, and that it burns excellently, giving us heaps (to pronounce like a Kiwi, say hapes) of ready fuel. In about 5 minutes we had a full-scale conflagration going, which was great for the cool night in this part of the world. We spent most of the night chatting with other travelers, but it quickly became apparent that we should’ve brought alcohol along, as to have a great bonfire requires a certain amount of social lubrication. This is an inarguable point, though we still enjoyed the hippies with the guitar and bongos who entertained the rest of the group with some impromptu fire dancing.

Still, we had a quite excellent time, and when is the next time we’ll have a bonfire on a beach on the Tasman Sea? Around 3 in the morning, however, we started to have a sneaking suspicion that our driver wasn’t really interested in driving back that night, so most of us hoofed it on back to Rongo. Since we had driven through rivers to get there, we had no idea how we got to the bonfire, so we thought it had to have been a long walk. However, we found out it was only about 30-40 minutes, and under the moonlight, the serious moonlight, it was a terrific and easy walk. Had we known that we probably would’ve left hours earlier. In any event, in the morning we were glad we walked back when we did, as we found out the rest of the group stayed out on the beach until after sunrise, yikes.

Not that we didn’t get out and about in Karamea, much to the contrary. On our first day we did some day hikes to see the Oparara Arch, a natural limestone arch, some caves, and other cool geological features in the area. On our second day we went out to the first portion of the Heaphy Track, reputed to be the best part of it. We’re inclined to believe that, as the track stretches past some excellent beaches, nikau palms, and even has a cool swing bridge. As with everywhere else on the west coast, the surf crashes into the shore incessantly and violently, and if you stop for more than a few minutes, the sandflies start to devour you alive.

Swing bridge across the Heaphy Track

I don’t think I’ve mentioned sandflies before, but no description of the west coast would be complete without detailing what little vicious bastards they are. They’re basically little black flies that look like gnats, but are much more harmful and infinitely more annoying. In our week on the west coast, we’ve found that no beach is without them and that they have a special fondness for ankles and feet (we decided to spare everyone and not include pictures), leaving behind ridiculously itchy puffy red welts. They’re a lot like mosquitoes, except smaller, less bothered by insect repellent, and seem to attack in bigger groups. I’ve gotten no small pleasure from killing a few dozen of them this past week. A pyrrhic victory I know, but you take ‘em where you can get ‘em against sandflies.

Scott's Beach on the Heaphy Track - look out for the sandflies!

Though sandflies can be found throughout the North Island, the west coast of the South Island is where the buggers are notorious for ruining it for everyone. The west coast has a somewhat ironic fate in that it has some gorgeous beaches, but that hardly anyone visits them because of the sandflies and dangerous rips and undertows that seem to be at more beaches than not. On the other hand, those factors are probably the only reasons that keep it wild, which is the trade-off I suppose. Anyway, enough of that, we’re headed south back along the coast from here…

Thursday, March 01, 2007

Arthur’s Pass And The West Coast, Part I (Feb. 26 – Mar. 1)

After the urban fun of Christchurch, we were due next to cruise through New Zealand’s arguably least-developed and most rugged, isolated, and beautiful areas: the west coast. I know, I know, the superlatives about the ‘most beautiful’ this or ‘most scenic’ may get a bit worn for this travelogue, but I’m just trying to call ‘em as I see ‘em. In a word, it is indeed ‘massive’, as another traveler in Fiji described the region.
A waterfall at Arthur's Pass

Just before we took off to the west coast, we stopped in Methven, where we’re considering spending the winter working at Mt. Hutt. Diagnosis: it’s a small town with nothing going on in summer, but could be a nice place to spend the winter. It is supposed to have the longest ski season in the country, so that’s a good factor in its favor. We’ll have to see what Wanaka has to offer before we definitely decide, though.

An inquisitive weka says hello

Looking at the South Island, it’s quite long as measured north-south, but is relatively narrow, so we were able to drive from Christchurch on the east coast to Hokitika on the west in less than 4 hours via Arthur’s Pass. The pass provides one of the relatively few east-west routes through the Southern Alps, and provides some absolutely majestic mountain views for nearly the entire duration. I can only imagine what it’s like in the winter with some more snow coverage on the tops; we might have to come back later in the season, especially if we’re in Methven.

View of Arthur's Pass from the car

The west coast region stretches from Karamea in the north to Haast in the south, hemmed in by the Southern Alps on the east and the Tasman Sea on the west. Though its been the site of various booms and rushes (gold, coal, etc.) in the past, it’s just rugged enough, far away, and tough to get to that it has an empty, uninhabited feel. The main towns of Greymouth, Westport, and Hokitika remind me of semi-abandoned frontier towns on the sea, half-full and weather-beaten. If NZ is where you go to get away from the rest of the world, the west coast is where you go to get away from the rest of NZ; only the rugged need apply. The people we’ve met here, like just about everyone else we’ve met in the country, have been really friendly and engaging, in addition to being able to weather the weather and relative isolation here.

Cape Foulwind on the west coast

Cape Foulwind Lighthouse

The first person we met on the west coast was our Couchsurfing host in Hokitika, Brendon. He’s a ‘Hoki’ native about our age, graduated from Canterbury in Chch, and works in a dairy lab in town. He seemed to be a pretty cool guy and lives, interestingly in a house on the grounds of a former mental health institution. That was a bit different, but he was quite used to it. His place reminded me of the house I lived at in college, especially since they were still cleaning up the remains of a party that weekend that apparently was such a good time that someone burned one of their mattresses. Brendon wasn’t there for that, but it sounds like he missed a good time. We spent a couple days in Hoki, one day waiting for a beer shipment that never arrived (darn couriers!), and checked out the local scene, a nice hike and glow worms, our usual type of stops. Brendon was a really good host, and invited us back if we were through the area, which we might, as Hoki’s Wild Foods Festival is coming up soon…

On the trail in Hokitika

After Hoki, we tore off for Beaconstone, an eco-friendly backpackers out in the bush south of Westport. We’d have to give the place two big thumbs-up, as it was immaculate, had a great location, and the owners were really engaging and cool. Grae was a native Kiwi, and his wife is originally from California, and they just really seemed to enjoy the rugged nature of the west coast. Even a few miles from the ocean at Beaconstone, we could hear the surf pounding the coast relentlessly, as nature is never far away from you here.

The Old Slaughterhouse - what a view!

After a night in Beaconstone, we had booked a night at another great hostel, The Old Slaughterhouse in Hector. It won fame as the ‘best’ hostel in the world a few years ago, and we’d have to say it’s quite high on our list of hostels, at least as far as what we’ve seen in NZ. To get to TOS requires a 10-minute hike straight up the hill, so that keeps away the riff-raff, I suppose, hehe. It also makes you figure out what you really need for the night there, that’s for certain. TOS certainly has a million-dollar view from its verandah, and we spent pretty much the entire day reading and hanging out in the hostel, taking in the view and playing with the dogs.

It was really a 10 minute walk - we packed lightly

Don't be jealous, Otto. Beatrice is staying at The Old Slaughterhouse with her owners.

As opposed to most hostels, David and Ina actually live in their hostel, and play host much of the day to travelers filtering in and out of their backpackers. Not a bad place to spend a beautiful summer day. We didn’t see any of the town’s namesake Hector’s dolphins, even with the binoculars provided, but that was about the only complaint. We’re just about at Karamea, which means we’ll be starting southward back down the west coast in a few days. So far, the northern half has been as good as advertised, hoping the southern half is as memorable.

Sunset from the verandah at the Old Slaughter House