And so we left our home from home at Uncle Alun's once again to start a big loop that would take us to Methven, Geraldine, Lake Tekapo, Mount Cook, Wanaka, Queenstown, Te Anau and Fiordland, Invercargill, Stewart Island returning to Christchurch via the Catlins Coast, Dunedin and Oamaru. Uncle Alun had promised not to rent our beds out or sell some of the stuff that we'd left with him in the meantime.
Just an hour's drive from Christchurch across the Canterbury Plains, Methven sits in the shadow of the Hutt Range. Relatively quiet for the warmer months, this place comes alive between June and October when it is over-run by ski bunnies taking advantage of the excellent skiing on Mount Hutt, over what is often the longest ski season in New Zealand. As there were only a few snow-capped peaks when we arrived, skiing was out of the question (phew) so we took a half-day tramp up the spectacular Rakaia River Gorge. From the track the views down into the gorge were awesome, the milky blue river shimmering in the sun a sharp contrast to the bright emerald forests on the clifftops. The clearly visible stepped sides of the gorge are the result of glaciers over subsequent ice-ages that have scraped their way down to the sea, carving deeper and deeper each time. A side-track through the forest led us to the now-gated entrance of the Snowdon coalmine, the props still standing proud amongst the dripping mosses and ferns.
Day two at Methven and not such a good start on the weather front but by late morning the howling wind had blown away all the clouds so we clipped on a couple of very flattering safety helmets to cycle out of town and along the River Diversion Canal track. The canal is a feat of engineering that links the Rakaia and Ashburton rivers with the purpose of irrigating the lush dairy meadows in between and a tramping and cycling track runs alongside. Our feat was to stay on the bikes as we wobbled and weaved our was up the road, being buffeted by the wind. Every trace of the sun-screen that I'd put on my face was washed off in five minutes flat by the tears streaming from my eyes. We turned onto the canal-side track which was not the nice smooth surface that I was expecting - this was green and bumpy and my rock-hard slither of a saddle had no shock-absorbing qualities whatsoever. At each field boundary there was a stile for walkers and a gate for cyclists, most of which didn't open, so Marc ended up lifting the bikes over the top which was a pain for him but a welcome relief from torture by bicycle for me. Having said all that, it was a beautiful journey, we rode through the greenest of pastures with hundreds of grazing cows (Anchor Butter cows I expect) with a backdrop of grey rugged mountains and after reaching the Ashburton river end of the canal, we lazed about in the sun by the bright blue water for a while before heading back for the hostel where Marc made supper and I went in search of a large, fluffy cushion.
No sooner had we arrived in the charming little town of Geraldine than we'd been offered a lift to the nearby Peel Forest. This vast forest riddled with tramping tracks is predominantly conifer but it also hosts some magnificent Totara trees and other native giants. Totara grow very tall, stout and straight and traditionally these are the trees from which Maori's would have carved waka - war canoes. The largest in the forest was huge - it had grown to 30 metres over 1000 years and had a circumference of over 9 metres. I guess that my hug is somewhere short of 2 metres wide so it would take 5 hugs at least to go around. After following a stream up to a dark, mossy nook where the lovely Ackland Falls slides quietly down a smooth rockface high above we decided we were hungry and headed back for town in search of something tasty for supper. Geraldine is packed with art galleries, craft shops and lovely-smelling places selling locally made produce of all kinds. We picked up some smelly cheeses, fresh bread and a bottle of Shiraz that we ooo'd and mmm'd over before a night out at the pictures. We were the first in the queue at this tiny cinema - they have a minimum number of 5 before they will show a movie - 2 couples and a gooseberry! After a chat with owner Reverend Dave, Gary the projectionist gave us a tour of the projection room which was fascinating as the cinema still uses twin arc-lamp projectors from the 1920's to screen films. There is quite an art to changing projectors and 7 reels of film per movie so that no-one sees the breaks and we enjoyed a completely 'seamless' viewing of The Kite Runner from the comfort of our two-seater sofa in the circle.
Our next stop was Lake Tekapo which I've raved about since we were here last and with good reason as the village is perched on the shore of a vivid turquoise lake. All glacial water here are this colour - the result of rock being ground into a fine flour by glaciers in the heads of the streams which is suspended in the water and reflects the blue sky. We picked up a tramping leaflet and put on our boots after deciding to do Walk No 6 on the map, then seeing how we got on, possibly doing 7 and 8 afterwards. Halfway around No 6, Marc saw an opportunity to merge 6, 7 and 8 so we wandered off the marked track in the direction of a very wide, almost dry river bed at the bottom of the valley far below which we'd cross and climb up the high bank on the far side. All was well until we reached the bottom of the bank by which time we could see that it was covered in scrubby vegetation and was nothing but loose shale and dust. We decided to give it a go and started to limbo and wiggle our way through the evil prickly bushes while trying not to slide down backwards. After half an hour (with me walking on hands and feet), we made it to the top with scratched legs and a thick covering of dust and to Marc's delight (and saving grace) we almost immediately joined up with Walk No 7!
The Church of the Good Shepherd sits right on the water's edge at Tekapo and has a secret that is only revealed to those who enter. In the place of a stained-glass window behind the altar there is a pane of clear glass that frames the most wonderful view across the lake and snow-capped Southern Alps in the distance - truly heaven sent. I'd be no good as an organist here - I'd miss all my cues for gazing out of the window.
Just about the first thing we did when we arrived at Lake Tekapo was to book places on a star-gazing night at Mount John Observatory high above the village and I just couldn't wait for nightfall. Wrapped up to the hilt we were picked up at the hostel and headed off into the night. A Japanese University also scans the skies from Mount John, looking deep into other universes for undiscovered planets so as we turned off the main road to the Observatory, the track was chained off behind us to make sure that no other traffic came up causing light pollution and we drove up the last 200 metres by the side lights of the bus only. I was the first off the bus and into the dome housing the large computer-controlled telescope where they started with a spectacular sight - it was Saturn and all its moons that looked so clear it was as if someone had just put stickers on the front of the eyepiece! Next came Alpha Centauri - the closest star to Earth which turns out to be two suns taking 80 years to orbit each other. I've often remarked on otherwise clear nights on two small clouds that always seem to be in the same place in the sky, but it turns out that they're not clouds but other galaxies called the Clouds of Magellan (he too thought that they were clouds). We looked at nebulae in the Milky Way that absorb all the light from stars behind them and appear as dark patches in the sky and a whole host of other heavenly bodies. I can now pinpoint the Southern Cross, the constellation that appears on the flags of both NZ and Australia and navigate my way to Mars and Saturn. Of course, all this information will be useless when I get home as everything will be upside-down! As we stood inside the dome and the roof whirred and rotated to the next position the astronomer remarked that children in the group usually get very excited at this stage and I thought to myself - "what does he mean children?". I bet that a walk into the village after dark would reveal everyone who has been on the skytour - they'll be the ones looking upwards and tripping over the pavements. It was enough to make you rush home and saw a hole in your shed roof!
Wednesday, 23 April 2008
Wncwl Alun
Pwy yw Wncwl Alun? Mae Wncwl Alun (WA) wedi byw yng Nghristchurch, Seland Newydd gyda Anti Ceri ers 1952. Dod o Gwmllinau mae yn wreiddiol ond rydym wedi maddau iddo am fod yn Gog oherwydd er iddo fyw yn Seland Newydd cyhyd mae pawb sy'n ei nabod yn gwybod mae Cymro yw a dim ond Cymraeg rydym yn siarad gyda'g ef. Mae ei Gymraeg mor rugl nawr a'r diwrnod gadawodd Gymru dros hanner canrif yn ôl ac mae'n braf gallu siarad Cymraeg gyda rhywun arall ar ôl bod yn trafaelu mor hir. Roedd WA yn gweithio i'r AA cyn ymfudo i Seland Newydd ac fe gymrodd y penderfyniad mawr i adael Cymru ar ôl dychwelyd adref am y trydydd gwaith mewn un diwrnod yn wlyb i'w drôns oherwydd glaw ofnadwy. Gwnaeth gais i ymuno â'r awyrlu yn Seland Newydd ac Awstralia (fe wasanaethodd yn yr Awyrlu Brydeinig yn ystod yr Ail Rhyfel Byd) a gan mae Seland Newydd (SN) oedd y cyntaf i cynnig swydd dyma nhw yn codi eu pac a mynd i ben pella'r byd. Cafodd WA hedfan allan i SN a chael aros yn y Raffles yn Singapore tra roedd rhaid in Anti Ceri gyda dau o'r bois hynaf, Geraint yn 4 oed ac Eifion yn ddeunaw mis, dilyn ar long a'r fordaith o 3 mis.
Tra yn aelod o'r awyrlu yn SN cafodd WA fynd i'r Antarctic yn 1957/58 fel rhan o'r tîm sefydlodd Scott's Base Camp a oedd yn ganolfan i'r Trans Antarctic Expedition arweiniwyd gan Sir Vivien Fuchs gyda Sir Edmund Hilary yn arwain y tîm cynorthwyol. Mae ganddo tipyn o hanes a lluniau o'r trip ond yr hyn dwi yn ei hoffi orau yw'r disgrifiad ohono sy'n ymddangos yn yr Unofficial Unit History ar ôl iddo orffen ei stint o 3 mis yn yr Antarctic:
Tate and Breese (WA) sailed on the USS Greenville Victory from McMurdo. They had both done a first class job particularly Breese who as a Welshman was a ball of fire with a very lively sense of humor. They were among 22 persons to return from Scott's Base.
Mae e'n ddisgrifiad perffaith ohono.
Yn ogystal a bod yn beiriannydd da mae'n hefyd yn 'dab hand' gyda tyfu llysiau a ffrwythau. Yn ei ardd fe ddowch ar draws tatw, pys, moron, india corn, winwns, afalau o bob math, orennau, mafon a holl bethau eraill eto. Ond y peth mae'n ei arbennigo fwyaf ynddo yw tomatos. Ar un adeg roedd ef ac Anti Ceri (AC) yn tyfu dros 1,800 o blanhigion tomatos mewn dau dy gwydr enfawr yn eu gardd cefn a rhagor eto yn y ty gwydr roeddent yn rhenti o'u cymydog drws nesaf. Maent siwr o wedi tyfu degau o filoedd (os nad cannoedd o filoedd) o domatos drwy gydol eu hoes. Ac wwww, mae'n nhw'n felys ac yn flasus.
Mae WA ac AC wedi trafaelu tipyn bach a dwi ddim jyst yn golygu trafaelu allan i SN. Maent wedi ymweld ag adref ar sawl achlysur ers gadael ac maent hefyd wedi trafaelu ogwmpas Ewrop, Rwsia, Awstralia heb anghofio yr Ariannin a Phatagonia. Ar eu trip i Batagonia, ddim mor hir a hynny cyn rhyfel Ynysoedd y Falklands, nid oeddent wedi gwneud eu gwaith cartref yn drylwyr iawn ac fe droeasant i fyny heb fawr dim o'r arian lleol a 'traveller cheques' nad oeddent yn medru eu newid mewn unrhyw fanc. Gyda'u ceiniogau olaf penderfynnon nhw fynd i flwch ffôn, edrych i fyny yn y llyfr ffôn am rif rhywun ag enw Cymraeg o dan Williams a jyst trio eu lwc i weld os gallent gysylltu a rhywun i'w helpu. Roedd eu lwc i fewn. Nid yn unig roeddent wedi cysylltu a rhywun cyfeillgar ond roedd mab y ddynes yma yn gweithio mewn banc ac fe ddiflannodd eu problemau ariannol.
Ar eu ymweliad nôl i Gymru yn 1994 y dwi'n cofio cwrdd a WA a AC am y tro cyntaf ac yna eto ar droad y ganrif newydd. Cawsom wahoddiad i fynd i aros a hwy ac mi'r oeddwn wastad wedi ffansio ymweld â SN ers i mamgu (chwaer AC) fynd allan atynt ar ddechrau'r 80au. Doedd dim holi dwywaith ac ym mis Mawrth 2003 yr aethom allan gyntaf a gwna i byth anghofio eu gweld yn eistedd yn y maes awyr yng Nghristchurch yn disgwyl amdanom, dau wyneb cyfeillgar a chyfarwydd i'n croesawi wedi taith o dros 32 awr yn hedfan hanner ffordd yng ngroes y byd. Cawsom groeso arbennig a chynnes ganddynt a gan Edryd (ei mab ieuaf) a'i deulu yn Wellingtona a hefyd gan SN yn gyffredinol fel rhaid oedd mynd nôl allan am ymweliad arall ac am dipyn fwy o amser y tro hyn. A dyma ni ar ddechrau ein trip o 5 mis, mae wedi cymryd bron i 5 mlynedd i ni ddod nôl ond rydym yn edrych ymlaen yn fawr iawn.
Tra yn aelod o'r awyrlu yn SN cafodd WA fynd i'r Antarctic yn 1957/58 fel rhan o'r tîm sefydlodd Scott's Base Camp a oedd yn ganolfan i'r Trans Antarctic Expedition arweiniwyd gan Sir Vivien Fuchs gyda Sir Edmund Hilary yn arwain y tîm cynorthwyol. Mae ganddo tipyn o hanes a lluniau o'r trip ond yr hyn dwi yn ei hoffi orau yw'r disgrifiad ohono sy'n ymddangos yn yr Unofficial Unit History ar ôl iddo orffen ei stint o 3 mis yn yr Antarctic:
Tate and Breese (WA) sailed on the USS Greenville Victory from McMurdo. They had both done a first class job particularly Breese who as a Welshman was a ball of fire with a very lively sense of humor. They were among 22 persons to return from Scott's Base.
Mae e'n ddisgrifiad perffaith ohono.
Yn ogystal a bod yn beiriannydd da mae'n hefyd yn 'dab hand' gyda tyfu llysiau a ffrwythau. Yn ei ardd fe ddowch ar draws tatw, pys, moron, india corn, winwns, afalau o bob math, orennau, mafon a holl bethau eraill eto. Ond y peth mae'n ei arbennigo fwyaf ynddo yw tomatos. Ar un adeg roedd ef ac Anti Ceri (AC) yn tyfu dros 1,800 o blanhigion tomatos mewn dau dy gwydr enfawr yn eu gardd cefn a rhagor eto yn y ty gwydr roeddent yn rhenti o'u cymydog drws nesaf. Maent siwr o wedi tyfu degau o filoedd (os nad cannoedd o filoedd) o domatos drwy gydol eu hoes. Ac wwww, mae'n nhw'n felys ac yn flasus.
Mae WA ac AC wedi trafaelu tipyn bach a dwi ddim jyst yn golygu trafaelu allan i SN. Maent wedi ymweld ag adref ar sawl achlysur ers gadael ac maent hefyd wedi trafaelu ogwmpas Ewrop, Rwsia, Awstralia heb anghofio yr Ariannin a Phatagonia. Ar eu trip i Batagonia, ddim mor hir a hynny cyn rhyfel Ynysoedd y Falklands, nid oeddent wedi gwneud eu gwaith cartref yn drylwyr iawn ac fe droeasant i fyny heb fawr dim o'r arian lleol a 'traveller cheques' nad oeddent yn medru eu newid mewn unrhyw fanc. Gyda'u ceiniogau olaf penderfynnon nhw fynd i flwch ffôn, edrych i fyny yn y llyfr ffôn am rif rhywun ag enw Cymraeg o dan Williams a jyst trio eu lwc i weld os gallent gysylltu a rhywun i'w helpu. Roedd eu lwc i fewn. Nid yn unig roeddent wedi cysylltu a rhywun cyfeillgar ond roedd mab y ddynes yma yn gweithio mewn banc ac fe ddiflannodd eu problemau ariannol.
Ar eu ymweliad nôl i Gymru yn 1994 y dwi'n cofio cwrdd a WA a AC am y tro cyntaf ac yna eto ar droad y ganrif newydd. Cawsom wahoddiad i fynd i aros a hwy ac mi'r oeddwn wastad wedi ffansio ymweld â SN ers i mamgu (chwaer AC) fynd allan atynt ar ddechrau'r 80au. Doedd dim holi dwywaith ac ym mis Mawrth 2003 yr aethom allan gyntaf a gwna i byth anghofio eu gweld yn eistedd yn y maes awyr yng Nghristchurch yn disgwyl amdanom, dau wyneb cyfeillgar a chyfarwydd i'n croesawi wedi taith o dros 32 awr yn hedfan hanner ffordd yng ngroes y byd. Cawsom groeso arbennig a chynnes ganddynt a gan Edryd (ei mab ieuaf) a'i deulu yn Wellingtona a hefyd gan SN yn gyffredinol fel rhaid oedd mynd nôl allan am ymweliad arall ac am dipyn fwy o amser y tro hyn. A dyma ni ar ddechrau ein trip o 5 mis, mae wedi cymryd bron i 5 mlynedd i ni ddod nôl ond rydym yn edrych ymlaen yn fawr iawn.
Saturday, 12 April 2008
Y Mynyddoedd Glas, Sydney eto, a dyna ni, Awstralia wedi beni
Ein stop olaf cyn dychwelyd i Sydney oedd y Mynyddoedd Glas (MG). Nid mynyddoedd ydynt fel mae’r enw yn ei awgrymu, ond llwyfandir (plateau) gyda ceunentydd (gorges) clogyrnaidd wedi ei herydu hyd at 760 medr o ddyfnder. Maent yn rhan o World Heritage Site gyda pharciau cenedlaethol a gwarchodfa chadwraeth yn cwmpasi anialdir naturiol hynod o hardd. Er gwybodaeth, cafwyd y MG eu henwi yn Carmarthen Hills yn gyntaf gan bachan o’r enw Arthur Phillips yn 1788 ond fe’i newidiwyd yn anffodus … gan ryw Sais ynta. Mae’r enw y MG yn dod o’r wawr las sydd i’w weld o bell dros yr ardal a chaiff ei greu o’r olew sy’n cael ei ryddhau gan y coed ewcalyptws.
Cymerodd hi drwy’r dydd i ni gyrraedd tref Katoomba yng nghanol y MG (hefan o Alice Springs i Sydney ac yna ar drên o Sydney) ac unwaith i ni gyrraedd gwnaethom ymholiadau yn syth ar ble allwn wylio gêm Cymru yn erbyn yr Alban. Cawsom ddim lwc yn anffodus er i ni grwydro ar hyd y dref wedi canol nos yn holi mewn gwahanol dafarnau. Rhaid oedd i mi setlo ar chwilio allan ar fore Sul oddi wrth Wyddel oedd yn gweithio yn dderbynfa’r hostel bod Cymru wedi cario’r dydd unwaith eto (dau allan o ddau – a feuddwn ni ddechrau breuddwydio am y Gamp Lawn eto?????).
Tra yng Nghatoomba trampo oedd ein bwriad a darganfod ychydig o’r ardal hyfryd yma. Fe gerddom filltiroedd ar hyd y clogwyn ar dop y llwyfandir, milltiroedd pellach i lawr ar waelod y ceunant a rhwng y ddau cawsom fynd ar y ‘cable car’ (gyda llawr clir iddo i weld syth o’n tano), i lawr ar y ‘skyway’ (math arall o ‘cable car’) ac yna nôl lan ar y ‘funicular railway’. Gwelsom olygfeydd bendigedig gan gynnwys y Three Sisters; buom yn cerdded mewn rhagor o ‘Aussie bush’ a gweld lyrebird rhwng y tyfiant trwchus; dysgom ychydig am yr hen ddiwydiant glo fu’n llewyrchu yno heb anghofio mwynhau picnic neu ddau.
Gyda’n amser yn Awstralia yn gyflym yn dod i ben, roedd un diwrnod ar ôl gennym yn Sydney … i dynnu’r holl luniau na chawsom y tro cyntaf gan i’r camera benderfynnu fynd ar streic. Yn ffodus ni wnaeth yr un digwyddiad ailadrodd ei hun a chawsom luniau da i brofi ein bod wedi ymweld a’r ddinas a’r ty opera a phont yr harbwr ac ati. Cawsom socad dda gan gawod o law am ein hymdrechion – un funud roedd hi’n braf reit ac yna o’r pellter gwelsom y storm yn dod amdanom cyn ei harllwys hi i lawr. Ar ôl cysgodi am sbelen wrth ymyl Mrs Macquarie’s Chair rhoddom y gorau i aros iddi hindda ac unwaith i ni cael gwlychad dda fe arbedodd y glaw ac roedd hi’n braf eto mewn chwinciad. A dyna oedd ddiwedd ail ran o’n taith rownd y byd wedi mwynhau bob munud. Seland Newydd sy’n ein disgwyl ac Wncwl Alun a Anti Ceri oedd ein stop cyntaf yng Nghristchurch.
Cymerodd hi drwy’r dydd i ni gyrraedd tref Katoomba yng nghanol y MG (hefan o Alice Springs i Sydney ac yna ar drên o Sydney) ac unwaith i ni gyrraedd gwnaethom ymholiadau yn syth ar ble allwn wylio gêm Cymru yn erbyn yr Alban. Cawsom ddim lwc yn anffodus er i ni grwydro ar hyd y dref wedi canol nos yn holi mewn gwahanol dafarnau. Rhaid oedd i mi setlo ar chwilio allan ar fore Sul oddi wrth Wyddel oedd yn gweithio yn dderbynfa’r hostel bod Cymru wedi cario’r dydd unwaith eto (dau allan o ddau – a feuddwn ni ddechrau breuddwydio am y Gamp Lawn eto?????).
Tra yng Nghatoomba trampo oedd ein bwriad a darganfod ychydig o’r ardal hyfryd yma. Fe gerddom filltiroedd ar hyd y clogwyn ar dop y llwyfandir, milltiroedd pellach i lawr ar waelod y ceunant a rhwng y ddau cawsom fynd ar y ‘cable car’ (gyda llawr clir iddo i weld syth o’n tano), i lawr ar y ‘skyway’ (math arall o ‘cable car’) ac yna nôl lan ar y ‘funicular railway’. Gwelsom olygfeydd bendigedig gan gynnwys y Three Sisters; buom yn cerdded mewn rhagor o ‘Aussie bush’ a gweld lyrebird rhwng y tyfiant trwchus; dysgom ychydig am yr hen ddiwydiant glo fu’n llewyrchu yno heb anghofio mwynhau picnic neu ddau.
Gyda’n amser yn Awstralia yn gyflym yn dod i ben, roedd un diwrnod ar ôl gennym yn Sydney … i dynnu’r holl luniau na chawsom y tro cyntaf gan i’r camera benderfynnu fynd ar streic. Yn ffodus ni wnaeth yr un digwyddiad ailadrodd ei hun a chawsom luniau da i brofi ein bod wedi ymweld a’r ddinas a’r ty opera a phont yr harbwr ac ati. Cawsom socad dda gan gawod o law am ein hymdrechion – un funud roedd hi’n braf reit ac yna o’r pellter gwelsom y storm yn dod amdanom cyn ei harllwys hi i lawr. Ar ôl cysgodi am sbelen wrth ymyl Mrs Macquarie’s Chair rhoddom y gorau i aros iddi hindda ac unwaith i ni cael gwlychad dda fe arbedodd y glaw ac roedd hi’n braf eto mewn chwinciad. A dyna oedd ddiwedd ail ran o’n taith rownd y byd wedi mwynhau bob munud. Seland Newydd sy’n ein disgwyl ac Wncwl Alun a Anti Ceri oedd ein stop cyntaf yng Nghristchurch.
Wednesday, 9 April 2008
IF YOU CAN'T STAND THE HEAT ... OR THE SMELL
One chilly Monday morning in Christchurch, Alun, Eifion (who was over on holiday from Melbourne), Marc and I decided that a little pampering was in order and headed into the hills for the alpine spa village of Hanmer Springs. The long established Hanmer spa is a large outdoor complex of nine thermal and three mineral pools ranging from a pleasant 36 to a tingling 41 degrees (I’m sure Delia poaches eggs at this temperature). Should you fancy a bit more of an intimate experience ‘à deux’, a few dollars more will secure you one of six small secluded pools all to yourselves. Just imagine a crisp winter evening, snow sparkling all around, enjoying a candle-lit hot chocolate with the object of your heart’s desire … anyway where was I?
Emerging from the changing room into a stiff breeze wearing nothing but swimming togs and goose-pimples was bracing to say the least, then we had to wait for Marc to fiddle with the electronic clothes lockers which required him to choose a memorable PIN number. I couldn’t get into the first pool quickly enough. After ten minutes we were ready for the next one in the temperature stakes which meant getting out of the nice warm water into cold air and frantically searching around between the rocks and bushes.
After the first changeover however, I twigged that all I needed to do was let Eifion get out first and watch where he went before dashing after him when he’d found the next one (sorry Eifion). Up the scale we went, enjoying the sensation of being wrapped in deliciously warm water until we got to 41 degrees. As if the heat was not enough to contend with, this pool had an added dimension – it was a mineral pool that was rich in sulphur and reeked to high heaven of rotten eggs. After two minutes all my silver jewellery had turned into a rich gold colour which looked very nice but after five minutes it had gone a dark bluey-grey which looked plain cheap. The colour fades after a few days but for those who want instant sparkle restoration, there is a free cleaning service available. After a good twenty minutes simmering I’d had enough – the combination of the heat and the smell was making me feel queasy and I didn’t want to be the subject of an incident so I moved back to the coolness and balm of the 38 degree pool where we lounged for another half hour until the skin on our fingers started to look like prunes.
You can’t go anywhere anymore without a photographer snapping you as you get off a boat or the back of a camel for a ‘no obligation’ photo and this place was no different. We posed and showed our teeth for the official photo-shoot then asked the attendant to take some photos of us peeping over the side of the pool – for free! With the money we saved, there was enough for drinks all round in the Hurunui Inn on the way home.
Emerging from the changing room into a stiff breeze wearing nothing but swimming togs and goose-pimples was bracing to say the least, then we had to wait for Marc to fiddle with the electronic clothes lockers which required him to choose a memorable PIN number. I couldn’t get into the first pool quickly enough. After ten minutes we were ready for the next one in the temperature stakes which meant getting out of the nice warm water into cold air and frantically searching around between the rocks and bushes.
After the first changeover however, I twigged that all I needed to do was let Eifion get out first and watch where he went before dashing after him when he’d found the next one (sorry Eifion). Up the scale we went, enjoying the sensation of being wrapped in deliciously warm water until we got to 41 degrees. As if the heat was not enough to contend with, this pool had an added dimension – it was a mineral pool that was rich in sulphur and reeked to high heaven of rotten eggs. After two minutes all my silver jewellery had turned into a rich gold colour which looked very nice but after five minutes it had gone a dark bluey-grey which looked plain cheap. The colour fades after a few days but for those who want instant sparkle restoration, there is a free cleaning service available. After a good twenty minutes simmering I’d had enough – the combination of the heat and the smell was making me feel queasy and I didn’t want to be the subject of an incident so I moved back to the coolness and balm of the 38 degree pool where we lounged for another half hour until the skin on our fingers started to look like prunes.
You can’t go anywhere anymore without a photographer snapping you as you get off a boat or the back of a camel for a ‘no obligation’ photo and this place was no different. We posed and showed our teeth for the official photo-shoot then asked the attendant to take some photos of us peeping over the side of the pool – for free! With the money we saved, there was enough for drinks all round in the Hurunui Inn on the way home.
Tuesday, 8 April 2008
Y Canol Coch
Gyda’r gorau sydd gan Awstralia i’w gynnig yw Y Canol Coch ac os fyddwch chi fyth yn Awstralia yna mae rhaid gwneud yr ymdrech i ddod i’r canol i weled ei ryfeddodau naturiol.
Buom yn y Canol Coch am bedair noswaith a gwario dwy ohonynt yn Alice Springs naill ochr i drip saffari 3 diwrnod, dwy noswaith yn trafaelu a chael gweld goreuon yr ardal. Roeddem yn trafaelu gyda chwmni roedd yn arbennigo mewn grwpiau bach a bant a ni am 6 y bore mewn bws cyfforddus iawn ac ond dwsin arall yn gwmni yn ogystal a Steve ein harweinydd.
Arhosom am seibiant mewn math o gaffi yng nghanol unman ac roedd gan y caffi nifer o anifeiliad mewn corlannau y tu allan. Roedd yno y casgliad arferol o gangarws, dingo bach dof ac oedd yn hoffi cael ei fola wedi ei diclo, rhai alpacas a nifer o gamelod. Cawsom gynnig i fynd am reid ar gamel a oedd yn tipyn o sbort tan i’r camel ddechrau fynd ar garlam o dan arweiniad ei ofalwr ac fe ddes i bant o’r camel â llais tipyn yn uwch na’r un oedd gennyf o flaen llaw. Gwrthododd Nia fynd ar y camel gyda rhyw esgus ei bod wedi cael go yn barod blynyddoedd yn ôl … ie, ie.
Ein ymweliad cyntaf oedd i Kata Tjuta (sy’n golygu ‘nifer o bennau/many heads’ yn Aborijini) neu’r Olgas. Mae tua 30km i ffwrdd o Uluru (Ayres Rock) ac wedi ei wneud i fyny o 36 o gromennau crwn gyda’r uchaf, Mynydd Olga, yn 200m yn uwch na Uluru (sy’n 546m). Aethom am dro yno yn y gwres poeth ond y peth gwaethaf oedd y blinkin pryfed. Bydde ni’n ddigon hapus yn ymdopi â’r gwres ond nid y pryfed. Roedd yna filiynnau ohonynt yn mynd ar fy nerfau hyd yn oed pan roeddwn yn gwisgo net dros fy mhen ac yn edrych yn ddel iawn … dim!
Symud ymlaen wedyn i weld yr haul yn machlud dros Uluru. Dyma’r ‘monolith’ fwyaf yn y byd ac mae’n safle bwysig a chysegredig i’r Aborijini. Anodd oedd credu ein bod ni yno yn cymryd i mewn y graig fawr byd enwog yma. Y mae yn ryfeddod ac mwynheiais bod yno yn gwylio’r haul yn machlyd drosto. Er nad oedd y machlud yn un arbennig ac er bod cannoedd o dwrisdiaid yno (blinking twrisdiaid!) mi roedd y profiad yn un arbennig.
Arhosom mewn gwahanol wersylloedd dros ddwy noswaith ein safari – yng nghanol yr anialwch roedd yna safleoedd a nifer fawr o bebyll sefydlog dau berson gyda chyfleusterau cymunol. Roedd hi’n dipyn o hwyl gyda pawb yn helpu eu gilydd i baratoi barbeciws a gwleddau eraill o fwyd, yn eistedd ogwmpas coelcerth yn rhannu storiau cyn mynd am ein gwelau. Penderfynodd y ddau ohonom y bydden yn cysgu allan o dan y sêr ac wedi i ni dynnu ein gwelau allan o’n pabell fe benderfynodd bron pawb arall dilyn ein esiampl. Hyfryd iawn oedd cael cwympo i gysgu o dan y sêr ac awel dwym yr anialwch yn chwythu drostom. Er rhaid oedd deffro am 4 y bore a fy mod wedi fy ngorchuddio gyda dwst coch yr anialwch roeddwn wedi cael noswaith dda o gwsg.
Oedd rhaid deffro’n gynnar er mwyn cael mynd yn ôl i Uluru a chael gweld yr haul yn codi. Penderfynom fwynhau’r profiad yma wrth gerdded o gwmpas waelod Uluru – taith o tua 8km. Dechreuom ein wâc mewn tywyllwch perffaith bron ac ni chymerodd hi’n hir i ni ddilyn y llwybr anghywir. Yn ffodus daethom ar draws yr un cywir a chawsom weld y graig enfawr yn dod i fywyd a gweld yn agos ei lliwiau cymysg, ei ffurfiau gwahanol a’i phresenoldeb cadarn. Gwelsom mannau cysegredig yr aborijini (ond dim yn rhy agos), eu gwaith celf ar y creigiau a phyllau dwr bywiocaol holl bwysig. Am tua canol dydd aethom nôl i’n camp cyntaf am ginio ac i bacio i fyny cyn mynd am ein hail gwersyllfa dros 300km i ffwrdd. Cefais eistedd ar flaen y bws gyda Steve oedd yn gyrru a chael sgwrs diddorol gyda’g ef. Kiwi ydoedd wedi byw yn Alyce Springs ers bron i 30 mlynedd a wedi gwneud sawl peth yn ei oes gan gynnwys cadw camelod.
Cawsom noswaith gynnar arall gan fod gennym ddechreuad cynnar yn ein disgwyl am y trydydd diwrnod yn olynol. Dechreuad cynnar er mwyn i ni cael brecwast a digon o amser i drafaelu i gyrraedd Kings Canyon jyst wedi iddi wawrio a chyn fod gwres poeth y dydd yn setlo i fewn. Mi roedd hi’n wâc fendigedig a hynod o brydferth. Cerddom ar hyd dop y ‘canyon’ yn edrych i lawr i gwm y Kings Creek dros 100m islaw. Gwelsom yr haul yn codi a cherdded drwy creigiau â ffurfiau gwahanol a diddorol. Roedd un man arbennig ble roedd cyfres o gerrig anferth wedi eu herydu gan y tywydd i edrych fel adfeilion dinas hynafol coll. Roedd yno hefyd amrywiaeth helaith o flodau a blanhigion yn tyfu o gwmpas nifer o byllau dwr. Mewn un pwll hyfryd a thawel, a elwir yn Gardd Eden gyda nifer o choed palmwydden o’i chwmpas, fe’r eithum i nofio am ychydig i ddianc o’r gwres – bum erioed mewn pwll mor dywyll a wnaeth codi ofn arnaf ryw ychydig wrth i mi drio chwilio allan pa mor ddwfn ydoedd.
Yn llawer rhy fuan death ein wâc a’n safari i ben gyda un taith hir olaf nôl i Alice Springs yn ein disgwyl. Roeddwn wedi mwynhau pob munud o’r profiad hynod ffantastig yma. Gwelsom dim un neidr na phry cop ar ein taith hir, bod yn goch neu’n ddu neu streips pinc a melyn. Ynta cawsom un cip olwg arnaf a phenderfynnu nad oeddwn yn werth y risg. Blinedig iawn roedd y ddau ohonom wrth gyrraedd nôl i’n hostel ond roedd y ddau ohonom yn teimlo’n ffodus iawn ein bod wedi cael y profiad o weld natur ar ei orau.
Buom yn y Canol Coch am bedair noswaith a gwario dwy ohonynt yn Alice Springs naill ochr i drip saffari 3 diwrnod, dwy noswaith yn trafaelu a chael gweld goreuon yr ardal. Roeddem yn trafaelu gyda chwmni roedd yn arbennigo mewn grwpiau bach a bant a ni am 6 y bore mewn bws cyfforddus iawn ac ond dwsin arall yn gwmni yn ogystal a Steve ein harweinydd.
Arhosom am seibiant mewn math o gaffi yng nghanol unman ac roedd gan y caffi nifer o anifeiliad mewn corlannau y tu allan. Roedd yno y casgliad arferol o gangarws, dingo bach dof ac oedd yn hoffi cael ei fola wedi ei diclo, rhai alpacas a nifer o gamelod. Cawsom gynnig i fynd am reid ar gamel a oedd yn tipyn o sbort tan i’r camel ddechrau fynd ar garlam o dan arweiniad ei ofalwr ac fe ddes i bant o’r camel â llais tipyn yn uwch na’r un oedd gennyf o flaen llaw. Gwrthododd Nia fynd ar y camel gyda rhyw esgus ei bod wedi cael go yn barod blynyddoedd yn ôl … ie, ie.
Ein ymweliad cyntaf oedd i Kata Tjuta (sy’n golygu ‘nifer o bennau/many heads’ yn Aborijini) neu’r Olgas. Mae tua 30km i ffwrdd o Uluru (Ayres Rock) ac wedi ei wneud i fyny o 36 o gromennau crwn gyda’r uchaf, Mynydd Olga, yn 200m yn uwch na Uluru (sy’n 546m). Aethom am dro yno yn y gwres poeth ond y peth gwaethaf oedd y blinkin pryfed. Bydde ni’n ddigon hapus yn ymdopi â’r gwres ond nid y pryfed. Roedd yna filiynnau ohonynt yn mynd ar fy nerfau hyd yn oed pan roeddwn yn gwisgo net dros fy mhen ac yn edrych yn ddel iawn … dim!
Symud ymlaen wedyn i weld yr haul yn machlud dros Uluru. Dyma’r ‘monolith’ fwyaf yn y byd ac mae’n safle bwysig a chysegredig i’r Aborijini. Anodd oedd credu ein bod ni yno yn cymryd i mewn y graig fawr byd enwog yma. Y mae yn ryfeddod ac mwynheiais bod yno yn gwylio’r haul yn machlyd drosto. Er nad oedd y machlud yn un arbennig ac er bod cannoedd o dwrisdiaid yno (blinking twrisdiaid!) mi roedd y profiad yn un arbennig.
Arhosom mewn gwahanol wersylloedd dros ddwy noswaith ein safari – yng nghanol yr anialwch roedd yna safleoedd a nifer fawr o bebyll sefydlog dau berson gyda chyfleusterau cymunol. Roedd hi’n dipyn o hwyl gyda pawb yn helpu eu gilydd i baratoi barbeciws a gwleddau eraill o fwyd, yn eistedd ogwmpas coelcerth yn rhannu storiau cyn mynd am ein gwelau. Penderfynodd y ddau ohonom y bydden yn cysgu allan o dan y sêr ac wedi i ni dynnu ein gwelau allan o’n pabell fe benderfynodd bron pawb arall dilyn ein esiampl. Hyfryd iawn oedd cael cwympo i gysgu o dan y sêr ac awel dwym yr anialwch yn chwythu drostom. Er rhaid oedd deffro am 4 y bore a fy mod wedi fy ngorchuddio gyda dwst coch yr anialwch roeddwn wedi cael noswaith dda o gwsg.
Oedd rhaid deffro’n gynnar er mwyn cael mynd yn ôl i Uluru a chael gweld yr haul yn codi. Penderfynom fwynhau’r profiad yma wrth gerdded o gwmpas waelod Uluru – taith o tua 8km. Dechreuom ein wâc mewn tywyllwch perffaith bron ac ni chymerodd hi’n hir i ni ddilyn y llwybr anghywir. Yn ffodus daethom ar draws yr un cywir a chawsom weld y graig enfawr yn dod i fywyd a gweld yn agos ei lliwiau cymysg, ei ffurfiau gwahanol a’i phresenoldeb cadarn. Gwelsom mannau cysegredig yr aborijini (ond dim yn rhy agos), eu gwaith celf ar y creigiau a phyllau dwr bywiocaol holl bwysig. Am tua canol dydd aethom nôl i’n camp cyntaf am ginio ac i bacio i fyny cyn mynd am ein hail gwersyllfa dros 300km i ffwrdd. Cefais eistedd ar flaen y bws gyda Steve oedd yn gyrru a chael sgwrs diddorol gyda’g ef. Kiwi ydoedd wedi byw yn Alyce Springs ers bron i 30 mlynedd a wedi gwneud sawl peth yn ei oes gan gynnwys cadw camelod.
Cawsom noswaith gynnar arall gan fod gennym ddechreuad cynnar yn ein disgwyl am y trydydd diwrnod yn olynol. Dechreuad cynnar er mwyn i ni cael brecwast a digon o amser i drafaelu i gyrraedd Kings Canyon jyst wedi iddi wawrio a chyn fod gwres poeth y dydd yn setlo i fewn. Mi roedd hi’n wâc fendigedig a hynod o brydferth. Cerddom ar hyd dop y ‘canyon’ yn edrych i lawr i gwm y Kings Creek dros 100m islaw. Gwelsom yr haul yn codi a cherdded drwy creigiau â ffurfiau gwahanol a diddorol. Roedd un man arbennig ble roedd cyfres o gerrig anferth wedi eu herydu gan y tywydd i edrych fel adfeilion dinas hynafol coll. Roedd yno hefyd amrywiaeth helaith o flodau a blanhigion yn tyfu o gwmpas nifer o byllau dwr. Mewn un pwll hyfryd a thawel, a elwir yn Gardd Eden gyda nifer o choed palmwydden o’i chwmpas, fe’r eithum i nofio am ychydig i ddianc o’r gwres – bum erioed mewn pwll mor dywyll a wnaeth codi ofn arnaf ryw ychydig wrth i mi drio chwilio allan pa mor ddwfn ydoedd.
Yn llawer rhy fuan death ein wâc a’n safari i ben gyda un taith hir olaf nôl i Alice Springs yn ein disgwyl. Roeddwn wedi mwynhau pob munud o’r profiad hynod ffantastig yma. Gwelsom dim un neidr na phry cop ar ein taith hir, bod yn goch neu’n ddu neu streips pinc a melyn. Ynta cawsom un cip olwg arnaf a phenderfynnu nad oeddwn yn werth y risg. Blinedig iawn roedd y ddau ohonom wrth gyrraedd nôl i’n hostel ond roedd y ddau ohonom yn teimlo’n ffodus iawn ein bod wedi cael y profiad o weld natur ar ei orau.
Saturday, 5 April 2008
PANCAKES AND SCONES
Punakaiki is wild and wonderful. Lush green rainforests and exotic nikau palms tumble right down to the seashore along this stunning, unkempt Western coastline. Everyday, hundreds of tourists on the way from somewhere to elsewhere get off buses at Punakaiki and stay for just twenty minutes to have a quick dash around natures playground at Pancake Rocks and its blowholes.
Pancake Rocks are a result of a layering and weathering process where the rocks have formed what resemble huge stacks of pancakes. The sea surges into a labyrinth of caverns under the headland and high tide is whoopee time. The first performer is The Chimney Pot which is a narrow cleft in the rock from which water shoots into the sky, soaking unsuspecting folk standing downwind with a fine, cold spray. Just around the corner, you’ll find people peering down into Pukai – a deep chasm into which huge waves roll then bounce off the back wall with a loud boom and spectacular splash, the sunlight making rainbows in the spray. Next is The Surge Pool which is like a giant cauldron of foam, rising and falling with every wave as if it was about to boil over but my favourite was Sudden Sound. This gem is a vertical shaft set back from the tip of the headland, hidden by surrounding vegetation. Without warning Sudden Sound belches forward a deafening roar as air in the cavern below is forced up the shaft by a wave crashing in. It was great fun to stand there, hiding the sign on the fence and seeing people’s reactions when it blew as they walked past! The whole place was just one big show and we spent three hours there having such a good time that we went back for another three the next day.
Karamea is literally at the end of the road. The ruggedness of the coastline and mountains to the North made continuing the road an engineering impossibility years ago and today the Department of Conservation takes a ‘when hell freezes over” stance to completing the coastal circuit. We were fortunate to get a lift up to Karamea from Yvonne who worked at the hostel at Punakaiki. On the way up, she took us to see a seal colony at Cape Foulwind (James Cook and a ferocious storm). From our lookout on the cliff we could see dozens of fur seals basking on the rocks just below us. In a small sheltered rock-pool we watched ten seal pups at play - flapping about, dragging a big piece of seaweed behind them and rolling around with each other. It was delightful.
Yvonne was keen to share some local history with us and took us up to an exposed mountain top to Denniston where there used to be a thriving coal mining community. In its heyday, newly married brides came to live up here and didn’t come down for another thirty years and I don’t blame them either as the only mode of transport at the time would have been an empty coal bin on the steep and notoriously perilous cable railway. These bins broke loose from time to time and would flatten anyone and anything in their way in a cloud of sparks and smoke as they hurtled towards the bottom. Today all that remains of the shops, school, places of worship, homes and pithead buildings are a few bits of track, some coal bins here and there, a few ramshackle sheds and small nuggets of shiny black coal that crunch underfoot, along with the most amazing view of miles and miles of coastline.
And so we arrived at Karamea which was like another world – well I’m sure that the volunteers at the stripey Rongo Backpackers were in another world given the way they drifted about the place with flowers in their hair. The hostel has an extensive and well tended organic fruit and vegetable garden where guests are welcome to help themselves to whatever they want. A pirate radio station broadcasts a wacky array of music from a shed in the garden and anyone who fancies themselves as a bit of a DJ is invited to host a radio show with tunes and banter of their choice. We didn’t broadcast over the airwaves, but some Tom Jones was played in honour of our presence.
There was a ruffle of excitement among the ‘Rongolians’ one afternoon (it takes a lot to stir these people) when someone was despatched on a bike to the village shop to buy flour and eggs for a ‘Scone Off’. Every couple of weeks about six of them disappear into the kitchen and appear an hour later with plates of hot scones and big pots of tea and guests are invited to help demolish the lot. I was a bit wary of the cheese and ‘herb’ scones but there were no after-effects to report – well none that I can recall anyway. We took some lovely walks around the village (apart from the one where we’d taken one of Marc’s diversions and ended up crawling under an electric fence), we ambled along the beach and up the river estuary where we did a bit of twitching and played boules in the sand as we waited for sunset.
We left Karamea on the post-bus on which we enjoyed a lively and fascinating narrative the whole way from our lady postie. She was a mine of information on everything from how each of the creeks we crossed got its name to the agricultural practice of ‘humping and hollowing’ – the method of land improvement by ploughing wet fields into ‘waves’. She told us the history behind the Taffytown road sign that was out in the middle of nowhere on the Karamea Bluff. This marks the area that was once home to a band of Welshmen who constructed the winding road over the bluff with picks and shovels. They lived here in a community of semi-permanent tents for the two years it took to complete the task. The settlement has long gone but the area still bears the name.
We arrived in Westport when it was dark, cold and raining and left early next morning when it was dark, cold and raining, so I have no idea what its like when it’s not. The trip back to Christchurch over The Lewis Pass was grey and misty but through steamed-up windows we could see waterfalls dropping down into the valleys below from mountains with their peaks in the clouds which felt very moody and atmospheric.
And so our loop of the dramatic West coast of South Island was over. We had been blessed with fabulous weather for the most part and were lucky enough to have had the time to spend a few days getting to know places not on the tourist ‘A List’. We had become familiar faces in a couple of craft and coffee shops and by the end had even qualified for a supermarket loyalty card!
Pancake Rocks are a result of a layering and weathering process where the rocks have formed what resemble huge stacks of pancakes. The sea surges into a labyrinth of caverns under the headland and high tide is whoopee time. The first performer is The Chimney Pot which is a narrow cleft in the rock from which water shoots into the sky, soaking unsuspecting folk standing downwind with a fine, cold spray. Just around the corner, you’ll find people peering down into Pukai – a deep chasm into which huge waves roll then bounce off the back wall with a loud boom and spectacular splash, the sunlight making rainbows in the spray. Next is The Surge Pool which is like a giant cauldron of foam, rising and falling with every wave as if it was about to boil over but my favourite was Sudden Sound. This gem is a vertical shaft set back from the tip of the headland, hidden by surrounding vegetation. Without warning Sudden Sound belches forward a deafening roar as air in the cavern below is forced up the shaft by a wave crashing in. It was great fun to stand there, hiding the sign on the fence and seeing people’s reactions when it blew as they walked past! The whole place was just one big show and we spent three hours there having such a good time that we went back for another three the next day.
Karamea is literally at the end of the road. The ruggedness of the coastline and mountains to the North made continuing the road an engineering impossibility years ago and today the Department of Conservation takes a ‘when hell freezes over” stance to completing the coastal circuit. We were fortunate to get a lift up to Karamea from Yvonne who worked at the hostel at Punakaiki. On the way up, she took us to see a seal colony at Cape Foulwind (James Cook and a ferocious storm). From our lookout on the cliff we could see dozens of fur seals basking on the rocks just below us. In a small sheltered rock-pool we watched ten seal pups at play - flapping about, dragging a big piece of seaweed behind them and rolling around with each other. It was delightful.
Yvonne was keen to share some local history with us and took us up to an exposed mountain top to Denniston where there used to be a thriving coal mining community. In its heyday, newly married brides came to live up here and didn’t come down for another thirty years and I don’t blame them either as the only mode of transport at the time would have been an empty coal bin on the steep and notoriously perilous cable railway. These bins broke loose from time to time and would flatten anyone and anything in their way in a cloud of sparks and smoke as they hurtled towards the bottom. Today all that remains of the shops, school, places of worship, homes and pithead buildings are a few bits of track, some coal bins here and there, a few ramshackle sheds and small nuggets of shiny black coal that crunch underfoot, along with the most amazing view of miles and miles of coastline.
And so we arrived at Karamea which was like another world – well I’m sure that the volunteers at the stripey Rongo Backpackers were in another world given the way they drifted about the place with flowers in their hair. The hostel has an extensive and well tended organic fruit and vegetable garden where guests are welcome to help themselves to whatever they want. A pirate radio station broadcasts a wacky array of music from a shed in the garden and anyone who fancies themselves as a bit of a DJ is invited to host a radio show with tunes and banter of their choice. We didn’t broadcast over the airwaves, but some Tom Jones was played in honour of our presence.
There was a ruffle of excitement among the ‘Rongolians’ one afternoon (it takes a lot to stir these people) when someone was despatched on a bike to the village shop to buy flour and eggs for a ‘Scone Off’. Every couple of weeks about six of them disappear into the kitchen and appear an hour later with plates of hot scones and big pots of tea and guests are invited to help demolish the lot. I was a bit wary of the cheese and ‘herb’ scones but there were no after-effects to report – well none that I can recall anyway. We took some lovely walks around the village (apart from the one where we’d taken one of Marc’s diversions and ended up crawling under an electric fence), we ambled along the beach and up the river estuary where we did a bit of twitching and played boules in the sand as we waited for sunset.
We left Karamea on the post-bus on which we enjoyed a lively and fascinating narrative the whole way from our lady postie. She was a mine of information on everything from how each of the creeks we crossed got its name to the agricultural practice of ‘humping and hollowing’ – the method of land improvement by ploughing wet fields into ‘waves’. She told us the history behind the Taffytown road sign that was out in the middle of nowhere on the Karamea Bluff. This marks the area that was once home to a band of Welshmen who constructed the winding road over the bluff with picks and shovels. They lived here in a community of semi-permanent tents for the two years it took to complete the task. The settlement has long gone but the area still bears the name.
We arrived in Westport when it was dark, cold and raining and left early next morning when it was dark, cold and raining, so I have no idea what its like when it’s not. The trip back to Christchurch over The Lewis Pass was grey and misty but through steamed-up windows we could see waterfalls dropping down into the valleys below from mountains with their peaks in the clouds which felt very moody and atmospheric.
And so our loop of the dramatic West coast of South Island was over. We had been blessed with fabulous weather for the most part and were lucky enough to have had the time to spend a few days getting to know places not on the tourist ‘A List’. We had become familiar faces in a couple of craft and coffee shops and by the end had even qualified for a supermarket loyalty card!
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