Nudging the International Dateline, Gisborne is New Zealand's most easterly country and the first to see the light of the new day. This is where James Cook first got NZ dirt on his boots in 1769 and many statues and monuments along the waterfront mark this historical event. However, someone, somewhere along the way was having a bad day when they cast the bronze that stands at Cook's Plaza as it is not dressed in British Naval uniform nor does it bear any facial resemblance to Old Jim. The plaque underneath reads "Who was he? We have no idea". I thought he looked a little like Jimmy Saville.
Gisborne was the first town to rain on us big time for months. It started to pour as we were up on the Titirangi Lookout overlooking the harbour so we cut our walk short and returned to the hostel, stopping to admire a beautiful marae on the way. As is typical out here, the hostel was an old Victorian building with lots of period features and was well equipped for rainy days with internet facilities, a huge collection of movies, cupboards full of books and games and comfy sofas to curl up on with a cuppa in front of the fire. Days like these are nice - they are a chance to step off the trail, get your nose stuck in a book and recharge the batteries.
Those of you that have experienced a Christmas of birthday morning with me will already know that I'm up like the lark and just as chirpy and this birthday was no exception. The sun was out and there was no time to waste. I opened my card and as soon as Marc had finished the dishes we jumped into the car and headed out to Eastwoodhill Arboretum at Ngatapa. Eastwoodhill is a 135ha woodland wonderland of 4000 species of tree from around the world and was ablaze with autumn colour from the pale yellows of the Chinese Pistachios to the deep reds of the Maples and the dark bronze of the Pin Oaks and every colour inbetween. We didn't follow any particular one of the mapped tracks but just wandered around wherever caught our eye. Lunch was a particularly fine picnic of sushi and we spent the rest of the day kicking and rustling our way through carpets of crisp leaves, walking through cathedrals of towering Redwoods and groves of native Nikau Palms and Cabbage Trees. We followed a track way up above the tree line and the view before us looked like a giant artist's palette splashed with colour. The car was sitting by itself in the carpark when we returned in the near dark.
Back in Gisborne we went out for a fabulous Indian meal. Dessert followed later back at the hostel in the shape of a supermarket trifle eaten from the tub with two plastic spoons. Celebrate in style I say ...
Monday, 30 June 2008
Tuesday, 24 June 2008
NAPIER - PREPARE TO BE DECO-DAZZLED
It was Duncan, Rhiannon and Megan, friends of the Average Family who had drawn the short straw for our five day visit to Napier. No sooner had we arrived at their home than we all piled into the van to go and collect McCauley - a huge Highland bull that was coming to stay for a few months. Getting him into the trailer was not easy then he decided to turn round, and that's how he travelled home, much to the surprise of following traffic when he peered out of the back!
The city of Napier was shaken to the ground by a catastrophic earthquake in February 1931. Hundreds perished under the rubble and in the following fires that raged through the ruins of the city. What followed was a fevered rebuilding programme in the style of the day and Napier rose from the ashes as the world's finest city of asymmetric buildings decorated with the chevrons, zigzags and lightning flashes of Art Deco and the stylised block and floral designs of Art Nouveau with a few buildings in Spanish mission style thrown in for good measure. We decided to do the city tour on foot and not take the spandangly version and be chauffeured around by Bertie Wooster in his cherry-red Buick and spent the day wandering around the dazzling streets that felt just as if we were on a 30's filmset.
The Napier Museum was excellent - a combination of a lesson in NZ geology, a film about the quake (complete with creaking and shaking seats) and lots of 1930's bits and pieces from in and around the home - lots of Bakelite and Clarice Cliff. We listened to recordings of tales from a few who had survived the quake. The first was Ida, a young optometrists assistant who was in the lab at the time the quake struck. Ida remembered cases falling of the walls and dozens of glass eyes rolling about on the floor as it heaved and twisted under her. Then there was Gordon, a young farmhand who had been sent down to the beach to burn rushes when the cliffs and cattle started to crash into the sea from above. He turned and ran only stopping when he thought it was safe and glanced back over his shoulder to see the most amazing sight - the sea had disappeared! The quake had heaved the seabed up by 2 metres and where there had once been water was now left high and dry and strewn with huge packhorse crayfish. Unable to resist, he went back and picked up as many as he could carry on his bike and rode back to the farmer's house of which he had been left in charge for the day and was dismayed to find that it had been totally flattened!
We would have walked out to the gannet colony of thousands of birds at Cape Kidnappers had they not all flown north for the winter three weeks earlier so we took a walk to the summit of Te Mate Peak instead. Set in a reserve of giant redwoods and native bush, Te Mate rises sharply from the plains and looks just as if a giant has taken a big rocky bite out of one side. We walked along the ridge track and couldn't understand at first what the wooden ramps that just disappeared over the edge were used for, until we realised that they were launching points for handgliders. We had a quick look around before scuttling off, just incase someone mistakenly thought that we were up for it ...
The city of Napier was shaken to the ground by a catastrophic earthquake in February 1931. Hundreds perished under the rubble and in the following fires that raged through the ruins of the city. What followed was a fevered rebuilding programme in the style of the day and Napier rose from the ashes as the world's finest city of asymmetric buildings decorated with the chevrons, zigzags and lightning flashes of Art Deco and the stylised block and floral designs of Art Nouveau with a few buildings in Spanish mission style thrown in for good measure. We decided to do the city tour on foot and not take the spandangly version and be chauffeured around by Bertie Wooster in his cherry-red Buick and spent the day wandering around the dazzling streets that felt just as if we were on a 30's filmset.
The Napier Museum was excellent - a combination of a lesson in NZ geology, a film about the quake (complete with creaking and shaking seats) and lots of 1930's bits and pieces from in and around the home - lots of Bakelite and Clarice Cliff. We listened to recordings of tales from a few who had survived the quake. The first was Ida, a young optometrists assistant who was in the lab at the time the quake struck. Ida remembered cases falling of the walls and dozens of glass eyes rolling about on the floor as it heaved and twisted under her. Then there was Gordon, a young farmhand who had been sent down to the beach to burn rushes when the cliffs and cattle started to crash into the sea from above. He turned and ran only stopping when he thought it was safe and glanced back over his shoulder to see the most amazing sight - the sea had disappeared! The quake had heaved the seabed up by 2 metres and where there had once been water was now left high and dry and strewn with huge packhorse crayfish. Unable to resist, he went back and picked up as many as he could carry on his bike and rode back to the farmer's house of which he had been left in charge for the day and was dismayed to find that it had been totally flattened!
We would have walked out to the gannet colony of thousands of birds at Cape Kidnappers had they not all flown north for the winter three weeks earlier so we took a walk to the summit of Te Mate Peak instead. Set in a reserve of giant redwoods and native bush, Te Mate rises sharply from the plains and looks just as if a giant has taken a big rocky bite out of one side. We walked along the ridge track and couldn't understand at first what the wooden ramps that just disappeared over the edge were used for, until we realised that they were launching points for handgliders. We had a quick look around before scuttling off, just incase someone mistakenly thought that we were up for it ...
Sunday, 22 June 2008
A WEEK IN WELLYWOOD
The rest of the holiday weekend involved walking around spooky, misty lakes in the rain, bathing in many more hot thermal pools and a huge, gooey chocolate cake that Jo had baked for Geraint's birthday. It all came to an end too soon (the weekend and the cake) and we returned to Wellington where we stayed on with the Average Family Breese for a week, planning the next stage of our assault on their beautiful country.
Wellington is New Zealand's fabulous capital city, set around a crescent shaped harbour and many smaller picturesque bays. The approach by sea is stunning - beyond the high-rises of the central district, wooden houses are terraced neatly between trees on the hillsides that rise behind the city. In recent times Wellington has stamped its place firmly on the world map as the home of New Zealand's film industry. Peter Jackson calls Wellington home and the success of his films and other blockbusters have earned the city its nickname of Wellywood. While the family returned to their daily routines, we spent our time in the city and loved to wander up and down the windy waterfront, dotted with art, sculptures and stones inscribed with quotations that appeared in the most unexpected places.
Unfortunately, my first visit was at the dentist for an emergency appointment which cost the equivalent of three months travel fares for the hour that I was captive in the chair. Half a dozen patients had come and gone from the room next door in the meantime and I thought that we'd have to get oxygen, or a chair at least, for Marc by the look on his face when we were presented with the bill. Still numb (from the shock of the cost) we took the famous red cable car up to the Botanic Gardens overlooking the city and walked over the hill and down into the Civic Centre and to the Parliamentary Buildings where we joined a guided tour of the new Beehive Office and also the grand old Government Building next door.
Our guide was Bill and the first stop was the basement where he took great pride in telling us about the major construction works that had taken place in recent years to ensure that the building will withstand a major earthquake, ensuring continuation of Government in the event of a disaster. Huge shock absorbers of rubber and steel had been installed under the building and all the supporting concrete columns had a 20mm slice sawn out near the top so that the building now sits on the shock absorbers above the "Seismic Gap", which I couldn't resist slipping my hand into on the way out. Bill would not have been impressed if he'd seen me I'm sure. Next, we took part in a sitting in the chamber where we were afforded complete Freedom of Speech and immunity against any consequential arrest, slander or treason. I wasn't sure that complaining about the lack of reciprocal agreements between member states of the Commonwealth on dental charges would be covered, so I kept my own counsel.
We had made arrangements to visit the small island of Kapiti off the coastline of Paraparaumu, north of Wellington, for the Friday morning. Kapiti is another predator-free haven for native birds and is run by the Department of Conservation (DOC). As only a limited number can visit the island each day, DOC runs an on-line booking system where permits can be purchased and a quick call to one of the two boat operators licenced to land on Kapiti secures your transport there and back. A final check with the boat on the morning of the trip confirms whether sea conditions are right for the landing, as the arrangements for getting ashore can be a bit of an adventure in itself on some days. The day dawned and it was glorious so the sandwiches were made and extra camera batteries packed and Marc stood at the front door with Ed who was giving us a lift to the train as I telephoned the boat at the alloted time. It took a while for me to convince Ed and Marc that the sailing was cancelled as the forecast for the afternoon was not good, but Ed suggested a worthy alternative for a day's supply of sarnies and we caught the ferry across Wellington harbour to Days Bay then walked down the beach for a couple of miles until we got to Eastbourne and headed inland and up one of a maze of tracks up into Butterfly Creek into some of the most dense and lush bush we've seen in New Zealand.
By this time, we were starting to show fledgling signs of being twitchers, able to identify many native birdcalls and also some of the more common trees and ferns along with a bit of the history relating to them. Take the Ponga, or famous NZ Silver Fern for example that grows up to 10 metres tall and would have been used by Maori as house posts. The 4 metre long fronds would have been used as waymarkers by warring or hunting parties moving silently through the bush in a long drawn out line. The first would have turned a frond over to reveal its white underside and the last man through turned it back again, leaving no trace of the trail.
The Average Family spoilt us rotten and took us out on many sightseeing and walking trips. One particularly enjoyable day out being a drive and walk through the Wairarapa to Cape Pallister on the wild and remote south easterly tip of North Island. We started with a walk to the amazing Putangirua Pinnacles - formed as silt and sand have been washed away over the years exposing huge columns of bedrock. A fabulous lunch followed in the Lake Ferry Inn where we enjoyed 'The Catch of the Day' and inadvertently bagged a heap of chocolate fish.
And so we waved the Breeses goodbye, promising to be back in a month and they promised us that they wouldn't change the locks in the meantime. Our Eastern Loop would take us up to Napier in Hawkes Bay and Gisborne in Poverty Bay, then off the beaten track around the East Cape, across the Bay of Plenty to Opotiki and Tauranga then onto Thames and the gorgeous Coromandel Peninsula before turning south to Rotorua and Taupo, calling at Paraparaumu for a couple of nights to have another go and Kapiti Island before retuning to Wellington just in time for the first rugby test between the All Blacks and Ireland. What luck eh ....
Wellington is New Zealand's fabulous capital city, set around a crescent shaped harbour and many smaller picturesque bays. The approach by sea is stunning - beyond the high-rises of the central district, wooden houses are terraced neatly between trees on the hillsides that rise behind the city. In recent times Wellington has stamped its place firmly on the world map as the home of New Zealand's film industry. Peter Jackson calls Wellington home and the success of his films and other blockbusters have earned the city its nickname of Wellywood. While the family returned to their daily routines, we spent our time in the city and loved to wander up and down the windy waterfront, dotted with art, sculptures and stones inscribed with quotations that appeared in the most unexpected places.
Unfortunately, my first visit was at the dentist for an emergency appointment which cost the equivalent of three months travel fares for the hour that I was captive in the chair. Half a dozen patients had come and gone from the room next door in the meantime and I thought that we'd have to get oxygen, or a chair at least, for Marc by the look on his face when we were presented with the bill. Still numb (from the shock of the cost) we took the famous red cable car up to the Botanic Gardens overlooking the city and walked over the hill and down into the Civic Centre and to the Parliamentary Buildings where we joined a guided tour of the new Beehive Office and also the grand old Government Building next door.
Our guide was Bill and the first stop was the basement where he took great pride in telling us about the major construction works that had taken place in recent years to ensure that the building will withstand a major earthquake, ensuring continuation of Government in the event of a disaster. Huge shock absorbers of rubber and steel had been installed under the building and all the supporting concrete columns had a 20mm slice sawn out near the top so that the building now sits on the shock absorbers above the "Seismic Gap", which I couldn't resist slipping my hand into on the way out. Bill would not have been impressed if he'd seen me I'm sure. Next, we took part in a sitting in the chamber where we were afforded complete Freedom of Speech and immunity against any consequential arrest, slander or treason. I wasn't sure that complaining about the lack of reciprocal agreements between member states of the Commonwealth on dental charges would be covered, so I kept my own counsel.
We had made arrangements to visit the small island of Kapiti off the coastline of Paraparaumu, north of Wellington, for the Friday morning. Kapiti is another predator-free haven for native birds and is run by the Department of Conservation (DOC). As only a limited number can visit the island each day, DOC runs an on-line booking system where permits can be purchased and a quick call to one of the two boat operators licenced to land on Kapiti secures your transport there and back. A final check with the boat on the morning of the trip confirms whether sea conditions are right for the landing, as the arrangements for getting ashore can be a bit of an adventure in itself on some days. The day dawned and it was glorious so the sandwiches were made and extra camera batteries packed and Marc stood at the front door with Ed who was giving us a lift to the train as I telephoned the boat at the alloted time. It took a while for me to convince Ed and Marc that the sailing was cancelled as the forecast for the afternoon was not good, but Ed suggested a worthy alternative for a day's supply of sarnies and we caught the ferry across Wellington harbour to Days Bay then walked down the beach for a couple of miles until we got to Eastbourne and headed inland and up one of a maze of tracks up into Butterfly Creek into some of the most dense and lush bush we've seen in New Zealand.
By this time, we were starting to show fledgling signs of being twitchers, able to identify many native birdcalls and also some of the more common trees and ferns along with a bit of the history relating to them. Take the Ponga, or famous NZ Silver Fern for example that grows up to 10 metres tall and would have been used by Maori as house posts. The 4 metre long fronds would have been used as waymarkers by warring or hunting parties moving silently through the bush in a long drawn out line. The first would have turned a frond over to reveal its white underside and the last man through turned it back again, leaving no trace of the trail.
The Average Family spoilt us rotten and took us out on many sightseeing and walking trips. One particularly enjoyable day out being a drive and walk through the Wairarapa to Cape Pallister on the wild and remote south easterly tip of North Island. We started with a walk to the amazing Putangirua Pinnacles - formed as silt and sand have been washed away over the years exposing huge columns of bedrock. A fabulous lunch followed in the Lake Ferry Inn where we enjoyed 'The Catch of the Day' and inadvertently bagged a heap of chocolate fish.
And so we waved the Breeses goodbye, promising to be back in a month and they promised us that they wouldn't change the locks in the meantime. Our Eastern Loop would take us up to Napier in Hawkes Bay and Gisborne in Poverty Bay, then off the beaten track around the East Cape, across the Bay of Plenty to Opotiki and Tauranga then onto Thames and the gorgeous Coromandel Peninsula before turning south to Rotorua and Taupo, calling at Paraparaumu for a couple of nights to have another go and Kapiti Island before retuning to Wellington just in time for the first rugby test between the All Blacks and Ireland. What luck eh ....
Thursday, 12 June 2008
LOVE CAN MOVE MOUNTAINS
Established in 1887, Tongariro National Park is the second oldest in the world, after Yellowstone in the United States. The park's three peaks, Mounts Tongariro, Ngauruhoe and Ruapehu were a gift to New Zealand from the local Maori tribe who saw it as the only way to preserve an area of spiritual significance. With towering active volcanoes, the park is truly spectacular and perhaps better known as Mount Doom from the Lord of the Rings trilogy. But many years ago, there was another mountain nearby ...
Maori history recalls how Mt Taranaki once lived with other mountain gods - Tongariro, Ruapehu and Ngauruhoe. Nearby stood the lovely maid Pihanga with her cloak of deep green forest, and all the mountain gods were in love with her. What had been a long and peaceful existence for the mountain gods was disturbed when Taranaki could no longer conceal his feelings and dared to make advances to Pihanga. A mighty conflict between Tongariro and Taranaki ensued, which shook the foundations of the earth. The mountains belched forth their anger and darkness clouded the sky. When peace finally came to the land, Tongariro, considerably lowered in height, stood close by Pihanga's side. Taranaki, wild with grief and anger, tore himself from his roots with a mighty wrench and left his homeland. Weeping, he plunged recklessly towards the setting sun, gouging out the Whanganui River as he went and, upon reaching the ocean, turned north. While he slumbered overnight, the Pouakai Range thrust out a spur and trapped Taranaki in the place he now rests. When covered with a veil of mist and rain, Taranaki is said to be weeping for his lost Pihanga and it is said to be unwise to live along the path between the two mountains as one day, Taranaki will return to Pihanga ...
We were up at 5.30am to meet Carol, Dave, Finlay and Tessa at Turangi to catch a bus to Mangatepopo to the start of the Tongariro Crossing. An 18km walk over dramatic landscapes, this is known as the finest one-day walk in all of New Zealand and thousands accomplish this challenging trek every year. The route would take us up the Mangatepopo Valley to Soda Springs, climbing the Devils Staircase to the saddle between Mts Tongariro and Nguaruhoe. The track would then level out as it crossed over the middle of the South Crater then climb again from the base of the Red Crater to the summit of Tongariro. This would be the highest point of the trek which would then drop down a loose scree slope to the Emerald Lakes - here the track is inside the Central Crater and leads to the Blue Lake before descending around the northern face of Tongariro, down the Rotopaunga Valley to the Ketetaki hut then down further through a steaming tussocky landscape and finally into a podocarp forest before finishing at a large clearing where the bus would pick us up.
We set out at 8.15am, wrapped up against the cold. Frost and ice sparkled om the mosses and streams up to Soda Springs which was a fairly flat walk of about an hour. We stopped a couple of times to dip into the huge bag of lollies (sweets) that filled Geraint's rucksack. The Devils Staircase lived up to its name. From the bottom, the people snaking their way towards the top looked absolutely tiny and the task before us monstrous! A couple of stops to catch breath and take photos and we were at the top, glad to have it under our belts. The walk across South Crater was very flat but eventually we started our last big ascent of the day up the side of Red Crater ridge which was amazing. The rock formations and colours were spectacular and fumaroles puffed away on the slopes into the crater beside us. We stopped for lunch just before the summit - coats zipped up to the hilt and hats on against the cold wind. The final ascent to the summit was very dramatic with steep drops on either side and it was a very good feeling to make it to the top. The view down the other side was breathtaking - the Emerald and Blue Lakes looking like tiny jewel-coloured pools in the distance below. It was a slow descent for some and a lot quicker for others who were confident to slip and slide down the loose scree slope. The walk past the lakes in the Central Crater was flat with a short climb out, passing a solidified, relatively recent flow of lahar which is a thick slurry formed when volcanic ash and debris mix with water from melting snow and ice on the flank of a volcano. Then the descent. We zig-zagged for mile after mile through tussocks dotted with steaming vents, stopping for a chunk of chocolate before reaching the trampers hut where we refilled our water bottles for the last two hours down the mountainside and through acres of forest, being followed by fantails and robins. Eventually we reached the clearing in the woods at 4.00pm - it had taken almost eight hours but if felt so good!
On the way home we called into the hot thermal pools at Tokaanu, where we slowly slid into the lovely hot baths, savouring every second of the delicious feeling of being enveloped in the soothing water. I bet that Taranaki heard our ohh's and ahh's miles away on the coast.
Maori history recalls how Mt Taranaki once lived with other mountain gods - Tongariro, Ruapehu and Ngauruhoe. Nearby stood the lovely maid Pihanga with her cloak of deep green forest, and all the mountain gods were in love with her. What had been a long and peaceful existence for the mountain gods was disturbed when Taranaki could no longer conceal his feelings and dared to make advances to Pihanga. A mighty conflict between Tongariro and Taranaki ensued, which shook the foundations of the earth. The mountains belched forth their anger and darkness clouded the sky. When peace finally came to the land, Tongariro, considerably lowered in height, stood close by Pihanga's side. Taranaki, wild with grief and anger, tore himself from his roots with a mighty wrench and left his homeland. Weeping, he plunged recklessly towards the setting sun, gouging out the Whanganui River as he went and, upon reaching the ocean, turned north. While he slumbered overnight, the Pouakai Range thrust out a spur and trapped Taranaki in the place he now rests. When covered with a veil of mist and rain, Taranaki is said to be weeping for his lost Pihanga and it is said to be unwise to live along the path between the two mountains as one day, Taranaki will return to Pihanga ...
We were up at 5.30am to meet Carol, Dave, Finlay and Tessa at Turangi to catch a bus to Mangatepopo to the start of the Tongariro Crossing. An 18km walk over dramatic landscapes, this is known as the finest one-day walk in all of New Zealand and thousands accomplish this challenging trek every year. The route would take us up the Mangatepopo Valley to Soda Springs, climbing the Devils Staircase to the saddle between Mts Tongariro and Nguaruhoe. The track would then level out as it crossed over the middle of the South Crater then climb again from the base of the Red Crater to the summit of Tongariro. This would be the highest point of the trek which would then drop down a loose scree slope to the Emerald Lakes - here the track is inside the Central Crater and leads to the Blue Lake before descending around the northern face of Tongariro, down the Rotopaunga Valley to the Ketetaki hut then down further through a steaming tussocky landscape and finally into a podocarp forest before finishing at a large clearing where the bus would pick us up.
We set out at 8.15am, wrapped up against the cold. Frost and ice sparkled om the mosses and streams up to Soda Springs which was a fairly flat walk of about an hour. We stopped a couple of times to dip into the huge bag of lollies (sweets) that filled Geraint's rucksack. The Devils Staircase lived up to its name. From the bottom, the people snaking their way towards the top looked absolutely tiny and the task before us monstrous! A couple of stops to catch breath and take photos and we were at the top, glad to have it under our belts. The walk across South Crater was very flat but eventually we started our last big ascent of the day up the side of Red Crater ridge which was amazing. The rock formations and colours were spectacular and fumaroles puffed away on the slopes into the crater beside us. We stopped for lunch just before the summit - coats zipped up to the hilt and hats on against the cold wind. The final ascent to the summit was very dramatic with steep drops on either side and it was a very good feeling to make it to the top. The view down the other side was breathtaking - the Emerald and Blue Lakes looking like tiny jewel-coloured pools in the distance below. It was a slow descent for some and a lot quicker for others who were confident to slip and slide down the loose scree slope. The walk past the lakes in the Central Crater was flat with a short climb out, passing a solidified, relatively recent flow of lahar which is a thick slurry formed when volcanic ash and debris mix with water from melting snow and ice on the flank of a volcano. Then the descent. We zig-zagged for mile after mile through tussocks dotted with steaming vents, stopping for a chunk of chocolate before reaching the trampers hut where we refilled our water bottles for the last two hours down the mountainside and through acres of forest, being followed by fantails and robins. Eventually we reached the clearing in the woods at 4.00pm - it had taken almost eight hours but if felt so good!
On the way home we called into the hot thermal pools at Tokaanu, where we slowly slid into the lovely hot baths, savouring every second of the delicious feeling of being enveloped in the soothing water. I bet that Taranaki heard our ohh's and ahh's miles away on the coast.
Wednesday, 11 June 2008
HAERE RA SOUTH ISLAND - KIA ORA NORTH ISLAND
It was fitting that we spent our last day on South Island at Nelson. We wandered around the leafy streets of this lovely city for the last time and visited the Art Deco Christ Church Cathedral. The second Cathedral to by built on the site, the foundation stone was laid in 1925 and construction got under way but was delayed for many years as everyone who had a finger in the pie argued whether it should be completed to its original design or not. It was finally finished in 1965 and consecrated in 1972. Constructed from black marble mined at Takaka it is a very striking building with lovely stained-glass windows that reflect local themes of bountiful land and sea as well as more traditional themes in a contemporary style.
That evening, we returned to our favourite restaurant where we got to sizzle our chosen fare on a chunk of hot volcanic rock. This is a great novelty and a lot of fun as long as you remember the advice not to sprinkle pepper on the rock. They should also add vinegar to the list of hazards ...
The ferry from Picton to Wellington sails through the glorious Marlborough Sounds before sailing out into open water across the Cook Straight. The three flooded valleys which make up the Marlborough Sounds are the Queen Charlotte, Kenepuru and Pelorus Sounds. A Maori legend tells the story of the creation of these sounds. Kupe, a legendary Maori voyager, while wrestling with a giant octopus, grasped the South Island for support and his fingers dug deep inside the soil, carving out the waterways. A pod of dolphins swam around the boat in the bright blue water as we left Picton and gradually South Island faded into the distance. It was not the millpond crossing that I was hoping for after my performance at Kaikoura, but it was sufficiently calm for me not to spill my tea and write some postcards, albeit in very big and wonky writing.
And so we arrived at Wellington - a magnificent sight with buildings terraced up the steep wooded hills behind the crescent of the harbour. Seat of New Zealand government and a wind that can take you by surprise, this is also home to family Breese. There's dad Edryd (Ed), Alun and Ceri's youngest son, his lovely wife Jo, Gwilym the eldest son and Geraint the youngest and Pipi the 3 year old city-slicker sheep dog.
They describe themselves as the average New Zealand family. Gwilym describes himself as follows "I am currently at Uni, studying a range of Social Sciences when I'm not strumming my guitar or earning a crust (beer money). I can be found loitering in houses of ill-repute (bars of varying quality) across Wellington enjoying a quiet libation or three". Geraint, who refuses to describe himself is just 16 and mad keen on sport - downhill mountain biking, skiing, waterpolo, surfing and rugby. He has asked Marc to go surfing several times but Marc's range of excuses is unlimited. Ed is a short and very quiet man and is in awe of us international travellers and continually begs us to tell him about our adventures to date. He loves to hear Marc's stories about the Talybont Tigers or as Marc affectionately calls his team mates the Talybont Telly Tubbies. Jo the mum is a very warm and friendly person who has had made us feel very welcome. The family have a great love of travel, friends and food (including wine) and have attempted to share that with us.
We arrived in Wellington at 5.00pm on a Thursday, on the eve of a public holiday (ANZAC Day). We were immediatly being driven North by the Breese family excluding Gwilym and Pipi to spend the holiday week at Turangi at the western end of Lake Taupo. We had been warned that it may be slow trip but we didn't realise how slow, the first 80km took us nearly 2 hours and a kebab. Apparently this is common on holiday weekends (the traffic jam not the kebab).
Up at 5.30am on ANZAC day, not for the dawn service (which may Kiwis and Ozzies attend to remember the dead from the ill fated Gallipoli Expedition but also the emergence of nationhood for New Zealand and Australia) - our objective was the Tongariro Crossing.
Grateful thanks to Ed who hijacked the computer and wrote the last few paragraphs (I'd never call them average). Spot the join ...
That evening, we returned to our favourite restaurant where we got to sizzle our chosen fare on a chunk of hot volcanic rock. This is a great novelty and a lot of fun as long as you remember the advice not to sprinkle pepper on the rock. They should also add vinegar to the list of hazards ...
The ferry from Picton to Wellington sails through the glorious Marlborough Sounds before sailing out into open water across the Cook Straight. The three flooded valleys which make up the Marlborough Sounds are the Queen Charlotte, Kenepuru and Pelorus Sounds. A Maori legend tells the story of the creation of these sounds. Kupe, a legendary Maori voyager, while wrestling with a giant octopus, grasped the South Island for support and his fingers dug deep inside the soil, carving out the waterways. A pod of dolphins swam around the boat in the bright blue water as we left Picton and gradually South Island faded into the distance. It was not the millpond crossing that I was hoping for after my performance at Kaikoura, but it was sufficiently calm for me not to spill my tea and write some postcards, albeit in very big and wonky writing.
And so we arrived at Wellington - a magnificent sight with buildings terraced up the steep wooded hills behind the crescent of the harbour. Seat of New Zealand government and a wind that can take you by surprise, this is also home to family Breese. There's dad Edryd (Ed), Alun and Ceri's youngest son, his lovely wife Jo, Gwilym the eldest son and Geraint the youngest and Pipi the 3 year old city-slicker sheep dog.
They describe themselves as the average New Zealand family. Gwilym describes himself as follows "I am currently at Uni, studying a range of Social Sciences when I'm not strumming my guitar or earning a crust (beer money). I can be found loitering in houses of ill-repute (bars of varying quality) across Wellington enjoying a quiet libation or three". Geraint, who refuses to describe himself is just 16 and mad keen on sport - downhill mountain biking, skiing, waterpolo, surfing and rugby. He has asked Marc to go surfing several times but Marc's range of excuses is unlimited. Ed is a short and very quiet man and is in awe of us international travellers and continually begs us to tell him about our adventures to date. He loves to hear Marc's stories about the Talybont Tigers or as Marc affectionately calls his team mates the Talybont Telly Tubbies. Jo the mum is a very warm and friendly person who has had made us feel very welcome. The family have a great love of travel, friends and food (including wine) and have attempted to share that with us.
We arrived in Wellington at 5.00pm on a Thursday, on the eve of a public holiday (ANZAC Day). We were immediatly being driven North by the Breese family excluding Gwilym and Pipi to spend the holiday week at Turangi at the western end of Lake Taupo. We had been warned that it may be slow trip but we didn't realise how slow, the first 80km took us nearly 2 hours and a kebab. Apparently this is common on holiday weekends (the traffic jam not the kebab).
Up at 5.30am on ANZAC day, not for the dawn service (which may Kiwis and Ozzies attend to remember the dead from the ill fated Gallipoli Expedition but also the emergence of nationhood for New Zealand and Australia) - our objective was the Tongariro Crossing.
Grateful thanks to Ed who hijacked the computer and wrote the last few paragraphs (I'd never call them average). Spot the join ...
Thursday, 5 June 2008
THE TOP BIT - part 3
From Nelson we headed West to the small and extremely casual town of Takaka which was to be our base for exploring the gorgeous sights of Golden Bay and that bit that sticks out of the North West corner of South Island - Farewell Spit. Our first stop was the supermarket where we picked up a real bargain. Stuck to the shopping basket stand was a note advertising 15 minute scenic flights in a light aircraft for $20 - about 8 pounds! As instructed we phoned Jim and booked a flight for the next day. We hopped on bikes from the hostel to the aerodrome four miles away, which was a big shed where Jim kept his two planes, a landing strip, windsock and Jim's tiny house. Jim was a small chap with a floppy hat in his 70's who lived and breathed flying. The fare was so cheap and he was so enthusiastic that you got the impression that we were just being used as an excuse to take to the skies again.
The plane sat Jim and four others and I got to sit in the passenger, sorry co-pilot's seat for a fantastic flight around the bay and estuary where the shadow of the plane was the only thing moving across miles and miles of sand below. We turned inland (a tad too sharply for my liking) into a wooded valley, flying low (very low) over the trees to get a good view of Pupu Springs, a turquoise oasis of the most pure water on earth. All too soon, the landing strip came into view and it was all over. I would have gladly stayed on and paid for another go, had there not been another four supermarket bargain finders waiting for their turn.
Most towns in NZ, however big or small, have i-sites. These are excellent tourist information offices where you can pick up information on local activities, accommodation and transport and book just about anything from a bungy jump to a Maori concert. We went along to the i-site in Takaka with the intention of hiring a small car for a few days to get off the beaten track and were helped by a Dutchman called Wohl who told us the going rate then offered his own personal vehicle instead at a lower price. After a little deliberating we took Wohl up on his offer and ended up driving around in his 15 seater minibus!
The first journey in our tour bus was out towards Collingwood and Farewell Spit. Remember the end of the road at Karamea a few weeks ago? Well this is the other end of the non-existent road and an unsealed dusty track led us to the starting point of the spit. As the stormy seas and high southerly winds that lash the West coast turn around the corner and along the North coast, they dump tons and tons of sand which form a 27km long sand dune that is constantly changing shape and growing longer like a crooked finger stretching out into the Cook Straight. Who knows - one day it may have reached far enough to tickle the bottom on North island! We took a walk along the first couple of miles of the spit, collecting pretty horn shells as we went. It was so remote and beautiful.
Back in the minibus and to the vast expanse of Wharariki beach that looked ghostly as sand blew across like a low swirling mist. Marc took the camera up to the foot of the cliffs to capture some of the amazing rock formations and I sat beside a big rockpool watching a dozen seal pups tumbling and twisting around each other in the water - the odd one would come out for a nose then plop back in. I couldn't believe how lucky I was to be watching such a wonderful scene. After a while three girls arrived and started to take photos. One took off her black flipflops and left them by the waterside and I'm still not sure whether or not the seal came out because he thought that these black shiny things could have been another playmate, but he flapped over to the shoes then looked up at the girl who shrieked and turned to run. Now this was an invitation to play - her friends and I were doubled up at the sight of this squealing girl being chased in small circles by a flapping seal pup who had a good turn of speed. Eventually he got bored and slid back into the water, but not before inspecting the flipflops one more time. She was very lucky to go home with two!
Day two on the bus and we went in search of the Rawhiti cave which is said to have some of the best twilight zone flora and fauna in the world. We walked up the rocky bed of the Dry River (yes it was) then up the steep wooded sides of the valley to the most astonishing scene in the middle of the forest of a massive entrance to a cave and gallery within that were literally dripping with thousands of stalactites. Some were several metres long and seemed to be reaching out of the gloom towards the light. Sunlight through the foliage danced on the glistening walls to the sound of drips plopping into pools and I wouldn't have been at all surprised if the little girl and her grandfather who arrived looking for Gollum, actually found him.
This may come as a bit of a surprise to some (it certainly did to me) but Captain James Cook was not the first person to discover New Zealand. A Dutchman called Abel Tasman arrived at Golden Bay in 1642 and sent a party of men ashore in a small boat but due to a misunderstanding of the traditional Maori friend or foe challenge, they ended up being eaten. The anchor was raised and Abel sailed away pronto, never to return, naming the harbour Murderous Bay over his shoulder as he went. The matter has since been cleared up and a monument and plaque, unveiled by Queen Noor of the Netherlands which relays the sorry tale stands on the clifftop above the fateful spot. And while I'm at it, I'll also tell you that Cook wasn't the first to see New Zealand when he arrived on these shores over a century later. They were the eagle-eyes of Young Nick - Cook's cabin boy who had been press-ganged into the crew, that were the first to spy land. Cook's journal records the date incorrectly too. What a way to run a ship ...
The plane sat Jim and four others and I got to sit in the passenger, sorry co-pilot's seat for a fantastic flight around the bay and estuary where the shadow of the plane was the only thing moving across miles and miles of sand below. We turned inland (a tad too sharply for my liking) into a wooded valley, flying low (very low) over the trees to get a good view of Pupu Springs, a turquoise oasis of the most pure water on earth. All too soon, the landing strip came into view and it was all over. I would have gladly stayed on and paid for another go, had there not been another four supermarket bargain finders waiting for their turn.
Most towns in NZ, however big or small, have i-sites. These are excellent tourist information offices where you can pick up information on local activities, accommodation and transport and book just about anything from a bungy jump to a Maori concert. We went along to the i-site in Takaka with the intention of hiring a small car for a few days to get off the beaten track and were helped by a Dutchman called Wohl who told us the going rate then offered his own personal vehicle instead at a lower price. After a little deliberating we took Wohl up on his offer and ended up driving around in his 15 seater minibus!
The first journey in our tour bus was out towards Collingwood and Farewell Spit. Remember the end of the road at Karamea a few weeks ago? Well this is the other end of the non-existent road and an unsealed dusty track led us to the starting point of the spit. As the stormy seas and high southerly winds that lash the West coast turn around the corner and along the North coast, they dump tons and tons of sand which form a 27km long sand dune that is constantly changing shape and growing longer like a crooked finger stretching out into the Cook Straight. Who knows - one day it may have reached far enough to tickle the bottom on North island! We took a walk along the first couple of miles of the spit, collecting pretty horn shells as we went. It was so remote and beautiful.
Back in the minibus and to the vast expanse of Wharariki beach that looked ghostly as sand blew across like a low swirling mist. Marc took the camera up to the foot of the cliffs to capture some of the amazing rock formations and I sat beside a big rockpool watching a dozen seal pups tumbling and twisting around each other in the water - the odd one would come out for a nose then plop back in. I couldn't believe how lucky I was to be watching such a wonderful scene. After a while three girls arrived and started to take photos. One took off her black flipflops and left them by the waterside and I'm still not sure whether or not the seal came out because he thought that these black shiny things could have been another playmate, but he flapped over to the shoes then looked up at the girl who shrieked and turned to run. Now this was an invitation to play - her friends and I were doubled up at the sight of this squealing girl being chased in small circles by a flapping seal pup who had a good turn of speed. Eventually he got bored and slid back into the water, but not before inspecting the flipflops one more time. She was very lucky to go home with two!
Day two on the bus and we went in search of the Rawhiti cave which is said to have some of the best twilight zone flora and fauna in the world. We walked up the rocky bed of the Dry River (yes it was) then up the steep wooded sides of the valley to the most astonishing scene in the middle of the forest of a massive entrance to a cave and gallery within that were literally dripping with thousands of stalactites. Some were several metres long and seemed to be reaching out of the gloom towards the light. Sunlight through the foliage danced on the glistening walls to the sound of drips plopping into pools and I wouldn't have been at all surprised if the little girl and her grandfather who arrived looking for Gollum, actually found him.
This may come as a bit of a surprise to some (it certainly did to me) but Captain James Cook was not the first person to discover New Zealand. A Dutchman called Abel Tasman arrived at Golden Bay in 1642 and sent a party of men ashore in a small boat but due to a misunderstanding of the traditional Maori friend or foe challenge, they ended up being eaten. The anchor was raised and Abel sailed away pronto, never to return, naming the harbour Murderous Bay over his shoulder as he went. The matter has since been cleared up and a monument and plaque, unveiled by Queen Noor of the Netherlands which relays the sorry tale stands on the clifftop above the fateful spot. And while I'm at it, I'll also tell you that Cook wasn't the first to see New Zealand when he arrived on these shores over a century later. They were the eagle-eyes of Young Nick - Cook's cabin boy who had been press-ganged into the crew, that were the first to spy land. Cook's journal records the date incorrectly too. What a way to run a ship ...
Tuesday, 3 June 2008
THE TOP BIT - part 2
Nelson has the accolade of being the sunniest place in New Zealand, so naturally the heavens opened just as we arrived. But hey, what's a little rain when you're back in the city you loved the most on your last visit. Fruit growing, wineries, breweries and an energetic arts & crafts scene, it's all here - and can be sampled, admired, tried on and purchased at the buzzing weekend market.
On a hilltop overlooking the city, there is a structure that marks the centre point of NZ. A 3 foot spike is held aloft on a big arm and points down to pinpoint the exact spot. Except that this is not actually the true centre, which lies somewhere at the bottom of the sea in the Cook Straight, between the two islands. It is a convenient and picturesque location that someone on the council probably put in the staff suggestion box as an idea for a new tourist attraction in the 80's. Still, it's a lovely walk with panoramic views of the city and harbour and if you choose, you can carry on walking across the hills behind the city and down to the exquisite Miyake Japanese Gardens where you can wander in no particular direction on paths that meander through bamboo and acers dressed in autumn colours, over narrow zig-zag wooden walkways on ponds floating with waterlilies, then sit for a while in the tea-house watching the fish making ripples in the pink sunset reflections.
Bone carving is a traditional Maori art form and just about everyone here wears a pendant of either bone, jade or paua shell. The most popular shapes are hei-matau - the fish hook that symbolises good luck and protection on journeys as well as prosperity and strength. Pikoura - two intertwined fernshoots symbolises infinity, eternity and the bonds of friendship while the koru - the unfurling fernshoot represents new beginnings and harmony. Not content with buying a ready-made carving, we signed up on a workshop to see what we could come up with. The class was small - just the two of us and Kasu from Tokyo. We spent what seemed like ages trying to decide what we'd like to make. Did we want to base it on one of the samples, did we want to combine elements from more than one piece or do something completely different. Eventually we all managed to commit an idea to paper and Stefan, our instructor, matched our designs with suitable pieces of bone - thicker pieces for the designs that incorporated twists. Beef shin is today's replacement for the whalebone that would traditionally have been used.
It took more than a few attempts to sketch our designs onto the bone but after we were happy we moved on to the workbenches and vices where we cut roughly around the outlines with a fretsaw. Then we moved to a disc sander, slowly working in towards the lines followed by some detailed and painstaking cutting, shaping and smoothing with an array of drills and sanders dangling from above, tongue poking out for extra concentration. After sanding my carving by hand for half an hour I was ready to cut out the pieces that still held the fernshoots together then back to the vice with narrow strips of sanding tape to smooth the insides of the twists. Yet another thirty minutes with even finer sandpaper and I was ready for the disc polisher - wow! It was beautiful, and I'd made it! The finishing touch was an engraving of a silver fern which was done by Stefan as it would have been so easy to ruin four hours work with a runaway drill and there would have been a quivering lower lip for sure!
Traditionally, Maori carvings are not bought for oneself, but are be given as a gift from another. Ideally, it will have been worn beforehand by the giver and will contain an essence of their spirit. And so with much ado, we presented each other in Olympic fashion with our unique creations with a huge sense of achievement.
On a hilltop overlooking the city, there is a structure that marks the centre point of NZ. A 3 foot spike is held aloft on a big arm and points down to pinpoint the exact spot. Except that this is not actually the true centre, which lies somewhere at the bottom of the sea in the Cook Straight, between the two islands. It is a convenient and picturesque location that someone on the council probably put in the staff suggestion box as an idea for a new tourist attraction in the 80's. Still, it's a lovely walk with panoramic views of the city and harbour and if you choose, you can carry on walking across the hills behind the city and down to the exquisite Miyake Japanese Gardens where you can wander in no particular direction on paths that meander through bamboo and acers dressed in autumn colours, over narrow zig-zag wooden walkways on ponds floating with waterlilies, then sit for a while in the tea-house watching the fish making ripples in the pink sunset reflections.
Bone carving is a traditional Maori art form and just about everyone here wears a pendant of either bone, jade or paua shell. The most popular shapes are hei-matau - the fish hook that symbolises good luck and protection on journeys as well as prosperity and strength. Pikoura - two intertwined fernshoots symbolises infinity, eternity and the bonds of friendship while the koru - the unfurling fernshoot represents new beginnings and harmony. Not content with buying a ready-made carving, we signed up on a workshop to see what we could come up with. The class was small - just the two of us and Kasu from Tokyo. We spent what seemed like ages trying to decide what we'd like to make. Did we want to base it on one of the samples, did we want to combine elements from more than one piece or do something completely different. Eventually we all managed to commit an idea to paper and Stefan, our instructor, matched our designs with suitable pieces of bone - thicker pieces for the designs that incorporated twists. Beef shin is today's replacement for the whalebone that would traditionally have been used.
It took more than a few attempts to sketch our designs onto the bone but after we were happy we moved on to the workbenches and vices where we cut roughly around the outlines with a fretsaw. Then we moved to a disc sander, slowly working in towards the lines followed by some detailed and painstaking cutting, shaping and smoothing with an array of drills and sanders dangling from above, tongue poking out for extra concentration. After sanding my carving by hand for half an hour I was ready to cut out the pieces that still held the fernshoots together then back to the vice with narrow strips of sanding tape to smooth the insides of the twists. Yet another thirty minutes with even finer sandpaper and I was ready for the disc polisher - wow! It was beautiful, and I'd made it! The finishing touch was an engraving of a silver fern which was done by Stefan as it would have been so easy to ruin four hours work with a runaway drill and there would have been a quivering lower lip for sure!
Traditionally, Maori carvings are not bought for oneself, but are be given as a gift from another. Ideally, it will have been worn beforehand by the giver and will contain an essence of their spirit. And so with much ado, we presented each other in Olympic fashion with our unique creations with a huge sense of achievement.
Y Gorllewin Gwyllt - Rhan 1
Ein hantur cyntaf o fewn Seland Newydd oedd i ymweld â ochr Orllewinol Ynys y De. Er nad yw'n ynys enfawr ac yn eithaf cul, y mae wedi ei rhannu i lawr y canol gan rhes hir o fynyddoedd gogoneddus y Southern Alps. Canlyniad hyn yw byd tra gwahanol i'r hyn roeddem wedi ei adael ar yr ochr Ddwyreiniol. Yn y Gorllewin mae'r wlad wedi ei dal rhwng y môr tymhestlog ar yr un ochr a mynyddoedd anferth gwynion ar y llall. Mae'r mynyddoedd yn ei gwneud yn anodd i gyrraedd yma sy'n esbonio'r boblogaeth bychan iawn. Mae'r bobl eu hun yn 'laid back' ac mae'n rhwydd iawn chwilio unigoledd yma.
Dechreuom ein taith wrth gymryd y trên, y Tranz-Alpine, o Christchurch i Greymouth. Ystyriwyd y siwrne yma, rhwng y Môr Tawel a'r Môr Tasman, yn un o'r teithiau trên gorau'r byd. Mae'r trên yn teithio drwy cyfres o dirluniau arbennig, drwy chymoedd a choedwigoedd hyfryd, dros 4 traphont a thrwy 19 o dwnelau. Mae un twnnel, ger Arthur's Pass, yn 8.5km o hyd. Gwariais rhan fwyaf o'r daith ar y cerbyd agored yn cymryd popeth i fewn ac yn tynnu lluniau o fri ond gan yr oedd hi braidd yn oer yno roedd Nia mewn cerbyd arall, yn glud mewn sedd cyfforddus.
Gwariom un noswaith yng Ngreymouth, prif dref yr ochr Orllewinol, cyn symud ymlaen i dref fechan Hokitika. Hoki, yn fyr, yw prif ganolfan crefftiau jade yn SN, yn bennaf gan mae o'r ardal yma caiff rhan fwyaf o'r garreg werdd ei chloddio. Mae yno nifer fawr o gelfyddwyr yn byw yma ac yn gwneud bywoliaeth wrth gerflunio jade ac mae mwyafrif o siopau'r dref yn gwerthu'r garreg mewn un ffurf neu arall. Ond fy hoff man i o'r dref oedd y traeth. Pan gwelais am y tro cyntaf credaf fod llong wedi'i chwalu ger y glannau yn ddiweddar, roedd yr olygfa fel un o longddrylliad. Roedd yna lu o 'driftwood' ar wasgar ar hyd y traeth melyn hir gyda nifer fawr o gerfluniau wedi ei creu allan ohonynt gan ymwelwyr yno. Tro ar ôl tro byddai'r ddau ohonom yn dychwelyd i'r traeth i gymryd i fewn yr awyrgylch arbennig, i drio creu ambell i gerflun ein hunain, i fwynhau picnic ac i wylio'r haul yn machlud.
Pentref bach Franz Josef oedd ein galwad nesaf. Mae'r pentref ond yn bod oherwydd y rhewlif enwog gerllaw a dyna'r union rheswm dros ein hymweliad. Mae'r rhewlif dros 11km o hyd ar hyn o bryd, mae'n estyn ac yn cilio yn gyson, ac mae ynghyd â rhewlif Fox (sydd ddim yn bell o Franz Josef) ac un rhewlif arall sydd yn yr Ariannin yn unigryw gan eu bod yn disgyn i fewn i 'rainforest'. Fel ymarfer ar gyfer ein cynllun i wario diwrnod yn cerdded ar y rhewlif aethom i gerdded un o'r nifer traciau ogwmpas FJ. Cerddom trac Callary-Waiko a oedd yn dilyn yr afon Waiko i fyny at y rhewlif, drwy coedwig ('bush') hyfryd gyda amrywiaeth helaeth o dyfiant gan gynnwys holl fathau o redyn, yn goed ac yn llwyni, a hefyd un o'n ffefrynnau sef y 'cabbage tree'. Cawsom gyfle i dynnu lluniau wrth ymyl Peter's Pool gyda'r rhewlif a'r cwm yn cael ei adlewyrchu'n glir arno.
Ar y diwrnod mawr, diwrnod yn cerdded ar y rhewlif, rhaid oedd cychwyn yn gynnar. I lawr a ni erbyn 8 o'r gloch i ganolfan y trefnwyr er mwyn i ni cael ein citio allan gyda chôt law a throwsis dal dwr, hatiau, menig a sannau heb anghofio'r sgidiau trwm a'r 'talonz', sef set o sbeiciau sy'n ffitio o dan ein sgidiau i'n galluogi ni gerdded ar y rhew. A hefyd, rhaid oedd arwyddo ymwrthodiad (disclaimer) yn cadarnhau mae ein dewis ni oedd i fynd ar y rhewlif ac nad oeddem yn dal y cwmni yn gyfrifol am ddim. Mynd ar fws i fyny'r maes parcio ac yna awr o gerdded ar hyd yr afon Waiko, yn trampo drwy goedwig ac i fyny ac i lawr amryw o glogfeini mawr gan ddefnyddio ysgolion a rhaffau cyn cyrraedd o'r diwedd waelod y rhewlif.
Roedd bod wrth droed rhewlif yn deimlad syfrdanol. Dyma un o gewri natur sy'n gyfrifol am greu rhannau helaeth o dirwedd y byd. Nid 'pristine ice' ydoedd fel yr oeddwn yn ei ddisgwyl gan fod gymaint o farian a sgri drosto. Yn y canol ar flaen y rhewlif roedd ogof fawr ble roedd yr afon Waiko yn tarddu. Cyn cychwyn ein antur ar y rhew rhaid oedd yn gyntaf cael gwers fach ar sut i wisgo'r 'talonz' ar ein sgidiau ac ar sut i gerdded lan a lawr ar y rhew. Ac yna bant a ni. Yn ofalus i ddechrau er mwyn cyfarwyddo gyda'r dechneg gywir o fynd ati ond yn ddigon cloi roeddwn yn teimlo'n hyderus wrth dramwyo'r rhew. Araf bach roedd pawb (roeddem mewn grwp o tua dwsin) yn camu ar hyd y rhew ond doedd hynna ddim yn fy mhoeni. Roedd yn rhoi cyfle i mi gymryd i fewn yr amgylchedd rhyfeddol ar awyrgylch arbennig ... heb anghofio tynnu llun neu ddau. Cyn hir roeddem uwchben y rhew budr ac ar y iâ glan a chlir a glas ei liw. Ie, roedd yna wawr las golau hyfryd i'r rhew gan ei fod wedi'i wasgu mor ddwys. Byddem yn cerdded i fyny ac i lawr agennau (crevices) enfawr a serth a thrwy ogofau o rhew. Roedd y cwm islaw yn mynd yn llai a llai y bellach fyny roeddem yn mynd ac roedd yr olygfa yn arbennig - roeddwn yn cael amser wrth fy modd. Buom wrthi am tua 6 awr ar yr iâ ei hun cyn yn anffodus gorfod dod oddi arno a cerdded y siwrne hir a blinedig yn ôl i'n bws. Roedd yn brofiad arbennig, un wna i byth ei anghofio.
Dechreuom ein taith wrth gymryd y trên, y Tranz-Alpine, o Christchurch i Greymouth. Ystyriwyd y siwrne yma, rhwng y Môr Tawel a'r Môr Tasman, yn un o'r teithiau trên gorau'r byd. Mae'r trên yn teithio drwy cyfres o dirluniau arbennig, drwy chymoedd a choedwigoedd hyfryd, dros 4 traphont a thrwy 19 o dwnelau. Mae un twnnel, ger Arthur's Pass, yn 8.5km o hyd. Gwariais rhan fwyaf o'r daith ar y cerbyd agored yn cymryd popeth i fewn ac yn tynnu lluniau o fri ond gan yr oedd hi braidd yn oer yno roedd Nia mewn cerbyd arall, yn glud mewn sedd cyfforddus.
Gwariom un noswaith yng Ngreymouth, prif dref yr ochr Orllewinol, cyn symud ymlaen i dref fechan Hokitika. Hoki, yn fyr, yw prif ganolfan crefftiau jade yn SN, yn bennaf gan mae o'r ardal yma caiff rhan fwyaf o'r garreg werdd ei chloddio. Mae yno nifer fawr o gelfyddwyr yn byw yma ac yn gwneud bywoliaeth wrth gerflunio jade ac mae mwyafrif o siopau'r dref yn gwerthu'r garreg mewn un ffurf neu arall. Ond fy hoff man i o'r dref oedd y traeth. Pan gwelais am y tro cyntaf credaf fod llong wedi'i chwalu ger y glannau yn ddiweddar, roedd yr olygfa fel un o longddrylliad. Roedd yna lu o 'driftwood' ar wasgar ar hyd y traeth melyn hir gyda nifer fawr o gerfluniau wedi ei creu allan ohonynt gan ymwelwyr yno. Tro ar ôl tro byddai'r ddau ohonom yn dychwelyd i'r traeth i gymryd i fewn yr awyrgylch arbennig, i drio creu ambell i gerflun ein hunain, i fwynhau picnic ac i wylio'r haul yn machlud.
Pentref bach Franz Josef oedd ein galwad nesaf. Mae'r pentref ond yn bod oherwydd y rhewlif enwog gerllaw a dyna'r union rheswm dros ein hymweliad. Mae'r rhewlif dros 11km o hyd ar hyn o bryd, mae'n estyn ac yn cilio yn gyson, ac mae ynghyd â rhewlif Fox (sydd ddim yn bell o Franz Josef) ac un rhewlif arall sydd yn yr Ariannin yn unigryw gan eu bod yn disgyn i fewn i 'rainforest'. Fel ymarfer ar gyfer ein cynllun i wario diwrnod yn cerdded ar y rhewlif aethom i gerdded un o'r nifer traciau ogwmpas FJ. Cerddom trac Callary-Waiko a oedd yn dilyn yr afon Waiko i fyny at y rhewlif, drwy coedwig ('bush') hyfryd gyda amrywiaeth helaeth o dyfiant gan gynnwys holl fathau o redyn, yn goed ac yn llwyni, a hefyd un o'n ffefrynnau sef y 'cabbage tree'. Cawsom gyfle i dynnu lluniau wrth ymyl Peter's Pool gyda'r rhewlif a'r cwm yn cael ei adlewyrchu'n glir arno.
Ar y diwrnod mawr, diwrnod yn cerdded ar y rhewlif, rhaid oedd cychwyn yn gynnar. I lawr a ni erbyn 8 o'r gloch i ganolfan y trefnwyr er mwyn i ni cael ein citio allan gyda chôt law a throwsis dal dwr, hatiau, menig a sannau heb anghofio'r sgidiau trwm a'r 'talonz', sef set o sbeiciau sy'n ffitio o dan ein sgidiau i'n galluogi ni gerdded ar y rhew. A hefyd, rhaid oedd arwyddo ymwrthodiad (disclaimer) yn cadarnhau mae ein dewis ni oedd i fynd ar y rhewlif ac nad oeddem yn dal y cwmni yn gyfrifol am ddim. Mynd ar fws i fyny'r maes parcio ac yna awr o gerdded ar hyd yr afon Waiko, yn trampo drwy goedwig ac i fyny ac i lawr amryw o glogfeini mawr gan ddefnyddio ysgolion a rhaffau cyn cyrraedd o'r diwedd waelod y rhewlif.
Roedd bod wrth droed rhewlif yn deimlad syfrdanol. Dyma un o gewri natur sy'n gyfrifol am greu rhannau helaeth o dirwedd y byd. Nid 'pristine ice' ydoedd fel yr oeddwn yn ei ddisgwyl gan fod gymaint o farian a sgri drosto. Yn y canol ar flaen y rhewlif roedd ogof fawr ble roedd yr afon Waiko yn tarddu. Cyn cychwyn ein antur ar y rhew rhaid oedd yn gyntaf cael gwers fach ar sut i wisgo'r 'talonz' ar ein sgidiau ac ar sut i gerdded lan a lawr ar y rhew. Ac yna bant a ni. Yn ofalus i ddechrau er mwyn cyfarwyddo gyda'r dechneg gywir o fynd ati ond yn ddigon cloi roeddwn yn teimlo'n hyderus wrth dramwyo'r rhew. Araf bach roedd pawb (roeddem mewn grwp o tua dwsin) yn camu ar hyd y rhew ond doedd hynna ddim yn fy mhoeni. Roedd yn rhoi cyfle i mi gymryd i fewn yr amgylchedd rhyfeddol ar awyrgylch arbennig ... heb anghofio tynnu llun neu ddau. Cyn hir roeddem uwchben y rhew budr ac ar y iâ glan a chlir a glas ei liw. Ie, roedd yna wawr las golau hyfryd i'r rhew gan ei fod wedi'i wasgu mor ddwys. Byddem yn cerdded i fyny ac i lawr agennau (crevices) enfawr a serth a thrwy ogofau o rhew. Roedd y cwm islaw yn mynd yn llai a llai y bellach fyny roeddem yn mynd ac roedd yr olygfa yn arbennig - roeddwn yn cael amser wrth fy modd. Buom wrthi am tua 6 awr ar yr iâ ei hun cyn yn anffodus gorfod dod oddi arno a cerdded y siwrne hir a blinedig yn ôl i'n bws. Roedd yn brofiad arbennig, un wna i byth ei anghofio.
SOUTH ISLAND - THE TOP BIT
We stayed in Christchurch with Uncle Alun for a couple of weeks and spent our time riding on miniature steam trains, hugging trees at the Botanic Gardens, cheering-on the local rugby team from the sidelines, taking picnics for days out in the mountains, eating ice-cream on days out along the coast, playing golf and painting the garden fence. When the time came to leave Christchurch for the last time and head North, we kidnapped Alun and took him with us to Kaikoura for a few days.
Many kiwi families have a 'bach' to which they escape at the weekend. Short for 'bachelor', these started out many years ago as simple weekend accommodation units, like an old railway carriage or a shed for typically male activities like hunting, shooting & fishing but today baches can be huge luxurious places on lakefronts and beaches and cost a kings ransom. Alun, Marc and I headed up the East coast to Kaikoura to stay at a friend's bach and what an amazing place it was. It didn't look very big from the outside, but it slept 10 comfortably and the view from the top studio bedroom across the bay towards the mountains was stunning. What made the place even more special was that this family home had remained largely untouched for generations - we sat on stylish iconic furniture from the 70's and enjoyed browsing through and playing some of the most fabulous vinyl collection whilst we wined and dined on crisp local Riesling and fresh lobster.
Kaikoura is whale-watching country. The Pacific and Indo-Australian tectonic plates meet under the ocean just 2 miles offshore and the seabed drops off a shelf down into a 1 mile deep canyon which makes perfect nearshore deepwater feeding grounds for sperm whales. We signed up for a whale-watching trip out to the bay and although it was a beautiful morning and the sea was like a millpond, a screen showed that the whale-spotting boat, about five miles out was reporting swells of about 5 feet. Even though I'd never suffered motion-sickness on a boat before, I decided to join the queue for a tablet just incase.
The setting was perfect - a bright blue sea with a backdrop of rugged, snowcapped mountains as we left the harbour. At this time of year, it was likely that any whales we saw would be males, as the females would have left for the warmer waters around Tonga and Samoa. Very soon, we got a message from the spotting boat that there was a whale on the surface - they stay on the top for about 10 minutes every hour before diving for the other 50. Off we went, full throttle, and arrived just in time to see the ripples he'd left after his dive. Then another message - a sonar hydrophone dropped into the water about 5 miles out had picked up the clicking sound that whales make as they feed. We stopped near to the signal and there were gasps of awe as Little Nick surfaced in the silver shimmer of the sun on the water with a huge blast from his blowhole. We followed him for a few minutes before we got to see that iconic image of a diving whale's tail against the horizon as he slipped under the water. We went back in search of the first whale and the hydrophone told us that we'd got lucky for the second time - he surfaced very near to us and again we followed at the required distance of 30 metres before he gave us "the tail" and disappeared.
We had been out for a couple of hours so it was time to head for home and to try our luck with spotting some Dusky Dolphins on the way. We couldn't believe it when a pod of at least 150 surrounded the boat, darting around us and doing acrobatics. It was a truly delightful sight. Closer ashore, fur seals lay floating on their backs in the water, waving their flippers in the air and the albatrosses that flew behind us completed the most amazing experience.
I was as sick as a dog ...
Many kiwi families have a 'bach' to which they escape at the weekend. Short for 'bachelor', these started out many years ago as simple weekend accommodation units, like an old railway carriage or a shed for typically male activities like hunting, shooting & fishing but today baches can be huge luxurious places on lakefronts and beaches and cost a kings ransom. Alun, Marc and I headed up the East coast to Kaikoura to stay at a friend's bach and what an amazing place it was. It didn't look very big from the outside, but it slept 10 comfortably and the view from the top studio bedroom across the bay towards the mountains was stunning. What made the place even more special was that this family home had remained largely untouched for generations - we sat on stylish iconic furniture from the 70's and enjoyed browsing through and playing some of the most fabulous vinyl collection whilst we wined and dined on crisp local Riesling and fresh lobster.
Kaikoura is whale-watching country. The Pacific and Indo-Australian tectonic plates meet under the ocean just 2 miles offshore and the seabed drops off a shelf down into a 1 mile deep canyon which makes perfect nearshore deepwater feeding grounds for sperm whales. We signed up for a whale-watching trip out to the bay and although it was a beautiful morning and the sea was like a millpond, a screen showed that the whale-spotting boat, about five miles out was reporting swells of about 5 feet. Even though I'd never suffered motion-sickness on a boat before, I decided to join the queue for a tablet just incase.
The setting was perfect - a bright blue sea with a backdrop of rugged, snowcapped mountains as we left the harbour. At this time of year, it was likely that any whales we saw would be males, as the females would have left for the warmer waters around Tonga and Samoa. Very soon, we got a message from the spotting boat that there was a whale on the surface - they stay on the top for about 10 minutes every hour before diving for the other 50. Off we went, full throttle, and arrived just in time to see the ripples he'd left after his dive. Then another message - a sonar hydrophone dropped into the water about 5 miles out had picked up the clicking sound that whales make as they feed. We stopped near to the signal and there were gasps of awe as Little Nick surfaced in the silver shimmer of the sun on the water with a huge blast from his blowhole. We followed him for a few minutes before we got to see that iconic image of a diving whale's tail against the horizon as he slipped under the water. We went back in search of the first whale and the hydrophone told us that we'd got lucky for the second time - he surfaced very near to us and again we followed at the required distance of 30 metres before he gave us "the tail" and disappeared.
We had been out for a couple of hours so it was time to head for home and to try our luck with spotting some Dusky Dolphins on the way. We couldn't believe it when a pod of at least 150 surrounded the boat, darting around us and doing acrobatics. It was a truly delightful sight. Closer ashore, fur seals lay floating on their backs in the water, waving their flippers in the air and the albatrosses that flew behind us completed the most amazing experience.
I was as sick as a dog ...
AUNTIE CERI
Just before we crossed to Stewart Island, we heard the sad news of Auntie Ceri's passing back at Christchurch, after suffering a debilitating illness for some time.
Auntie Ceri was a sister to Marc's grandmother - two of a large family of children from Graigwen in Llanddeiniol. A raven haired beauty, she married the young and dashing Uncle Alun and the couple emigrated halfway round the world to New Zealand when he took up a posting with the NZ Royal Airforce a few years later in 1952. Alun was flown across in a few days, whilst it took Ceri three months to make the journey by ship, with all their possessions and two young sons, Geraint and Eifion in tow. Edryd was born later in Christchurch and I can just imagine what life must have been like for her in a house full of rugby boots and surfboards.
For many years, Ceri and Alun sold the produce of their bountiful garden 'over the gate' but her real passion was her flower garden, where she often said she'd much rather be, than in the kitchen, but it has to be noted that her welshcakes (don't forget the lard), apple tart and rice pudding were legendary.
We said farewell to Ceri on a sunny afternoon in April when family and friends gathered to listen to warm tributes from her boys, two of her grandchildren - Rhiannon and Gwilym, and some long and good friends. We sang Cwm Rhondda and Calon Lan and Marc read Gweddi'r Arglwydd (The Lord's Prayer), before her coffin, draped with the Breese family Welsh Dragon flag was led out by a standard bearer from the Christchurch Welsh Society. Dozens came back to the family home at Fleete Street and the garden was full of stories and smiles until the early hours.
We reflected over a cup of tea at bedtime that she would have enjoyed the day - it had been a very nice 'do'.
Auntie Ceri was a sister to Marc's grandmother - two of a large family of children from Graigwen in Llanddeiniol. A raven haired beauty, she married the young and dashing Uncle Alun and the couple emigrated halfway round the world to New Zealand when he took up a posting with the NZ Royal Airforce a few years later in 1952. Alun was flown across in a few days, whilst it took Ceri three months to make the journey by ship, with all their possessions and two young sons, Geraint and Eifion in tow. Edryd was born later in Christchurch and I can just imagine what life must have been like for her in a house full of rugby boots and surfboards.
For many years, Ceri and Alun sold the produce of their bountiful garden 'over the gate' but her real passion was her flower garden, where she often said she'd much rather be, than in the kitchen, but it has to be noted that her welshcakes (don't forget the lard), apple tart and rice pudding were legendary.
We said farewell to Ceri on a sunny afternoon in April when family and friends gathered to listen to warm tributes from her boys, two of her grandchildren - Rhiannon and Gwilym, and some long and good friends. We sang Cwm Rhondda and Calon Lan and Marc read Gweddi'r Arglwydd (The Lord's Prayer), before her coffin, draped with the Breese family Welsh Dragon flag was led out by a standard bearer from the Christchurch Welsh Society. Dozens came back to the family home at Fleete Street and the garden was full of stories and smiles until the early hours.
We reflected over a cup of tea at bedtime that she would have enjoyed the day - it had been a very nice 'do'.
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