Week 7
Collingwood, Abel Tasman and Fox Glacier
January 9, 2012
I have made it out from the rapture of my WWOOF
family. As you have read it was a period
of 3 entertaining weeks. I left with the
other WWOOF guy Yannick from Germany and got dropped off in Collingwood which
is way up on the NW corner of the south island. It is a tiny little town in the
middle of Golden Bay and it offers a slight decline of tourists on the south
island as its location is considered by some to be too far out of the way. Unfortunately for me that will also mean fewer
drivers that I can attempt to persuade to let me ride along for free. Buuuuuut….I’ll worry about that later.
January 10, 2012
Collingwood is a very small town but luckily its only
hostel (where I am staying) has a couple of bicycles that its patrons can
borrow and use at their leisure. Myself
and another young Japanese lady who completely embodies the fun and
entertaining stereotypes of her heritage had both decided to take the long ride
up to Wharariki Beach. This location
boasts the most northern tip of the southern island, a point of significance
that really seems to have very little.
Nevertheless it is a fantastic beach of giant proportions that contains
a handful of giant rocks that sit just near in its bay and call to the tourists
to photograph. The appears if mother
nature randomly selected the strangest and most mysterious boulders it had to
offer and then threw them into the water to engage mankind. Some of the stone has been worn away and
created giant archways begging to be walked through if only the tide would go
out far enough.
This spot sits between giant headlands that beckon to the
mildly curious to climb them and walk along the howling cliffs. It is a beautiful scene to wind your way
along the sweeping bluffs and occasionally peer over to see if you can witness
the seals and their pups lounging on the rocks below. Whether barking like a dog or sitting there
with goofy seal grins on their faces they’re a sight to behold. Just be careful not to drop our camera or
let the wind usher it from your grasp. I would like to have spent more time at
this beach, there was something very pleasant in its dark demeanor but it was
another 27 km back and the wind would no longer be in my favor.
January 11, 2012
More hitch hiking today. Strangely enough Uko who I rode bikes with to
the beach yesterday was leaving today too via hitch hiking. Our timing didn’t match though and we took
separate cars. And yet, an hour later we
were both dropped off by different drives at the same spot in some other
town. And so we stood together, Uko with
a giant smile plastered on her face and thumb stuck out far enough to grab the
car. With some luck we got a ride after about 30 minutes and made it to
Motueka, for me it would be the jumping off block for the Abel Tasman which I
will hike tomorrow. After finding a
hostel (run by and full of Germans) I toured the expansive town of
Motueka. And then after those 10 minutes
expired I stopped in the local barbershop for a haircut. I asked for just simple and short and left
looking Private DeBlauw. At least it
will keep my head cool.
January 12, 2012
Yesterday I embarked on my day journey through part of
the fabled Able Tasman National Park. It
is renowned for at least the kayaking that can be done along the shore in the
many bays that continuously pepper the coastline. It is here that seal colonies can be found
with ease as eager kayakers paddle the shores.
I elected for a more land driven approach and was determined to trek
about half of the park this past Thursday.
The day started with shit weather as rain hammered the bus windows as we
drove to the drop off point where a water taxi would group us by destination
and take us further. Of the 3 boats to
be used it was only mine that was not covered and I began to wonder why I had
ever relinquished by rain jacket from back in SE Asia. Surely I must have lost it in some crazy high
stakes gambling with the Cambodian locals or was forced to give it away to pay
a bribe to the Thai police. No, I got
rid of it in hopes of shedding weight in my pack and traded it for a 25 cent
umbrella in Laos. I think I would have
been better off taking my rain jacket, putting it through an industrial
shredder and then putting it back on compared to the coverage faked by my umbrella. On the plus side I’m sure I would have paid
10 bucks for the exact same umbrella in the USA. Either way I was going to be wet.
After taking the scenic route and viewing Split Apple
Rock we finally reached our landing in Bark’s Bay. Rain meant nothing as I scanned the beach
like it was D-Day on Normandy. My quick
survey told me two things 1) there were a lot of people already here who had
claimed the beach so there would be no solitude today And 2) I am not really
sure what I saw because my glasses were covered with a gazillion droplets of
water. Nevertheless I plugged in my mp3
player and set off. Don’t get me wrong,
the scenery is beautiful and all of that nonsense but when I’m by myself
sometimes the hiking is just about how fast it can be done. Except, and I do make one exception, I will
always take a nice leisurely lunch somewhere.
I mean let’s be honest, one cannot rush the consumption of carrot sticks
and canned tuna; those must absolutely be eaten with dignity, grace and
serenity. That’s why I look like a bear
just waking from hibernation as I shovel contents into my mouth by hand since
the thought to bring a fork never occurs to me when packing. Usually I go with the carrot = spoon and use
it like a Fun Dip. You know, that candy
that has one stick of hard white sugar that you lick and stick into a packet of
colored sugar and you slowly use your candy stick as a spoon while eating away at
the other sugar. Anyway, the walk was
great and scenic and the rain did finally let up and I’m happy I did it and
blah blah blah. What’s important is that
I finished in under 5 hours (not a record but no one passed me which is what
counts) and this included a detour for lunch to see Cleopatra’s Pool and get
photo taken. After I finished I decided to celebrate and plopped down at the
only eatery to be found in the middle of nowhere and bought a beer that cost
roughly the same as a month’s rent in London.
And yes it would have been the most delicious beer had I not fallen
asleep half way through.
January 13, 2012
Today I hitch hiked out from Motueka and got picked up by
a car full of young Kiwi girls. Most of
my drivers have been middle aged men but this time luck was on my side. They even turned the car around to come back,
no doubt debating whether or not I looked dangerous. It’s my suspicion that curiosity more than
kindness was the prevailing factor. They were overly excited and told me I was
their first hitch hiker (not a surprise since they were 20 years old) and even
wanted a picture with me. I guess it was
a good thing I got that haircut from Sergeant Scissors the other day afterall! They dropped me ata café somewhere in the
rain and my next ride finally came from other travelers (not NZ locals). It wasn’t until this car that I had been
picked up by another tourist strangely enough.
There was, yep, another German and this time, an Argentine women at the
helm. The usual questions went around
the car about length of stay, countries traveled etc. etc. etc. At least it passed the time as the rain
continued to pelt the windshield. We
made a stop near Punakaiki to see the pancake rocks on the west coast. Having endured lengthy erosive damage these
rocky shores have dissolved in such a way that they look like giant stacks of
pancakes. As the crashing waves come in
hidden blowholes reveal themselves as gushes and whooshes of salty spray emit
from all around. It was impressive but
my mind was locked on maple syrup most of the time. But then finally I arrived through the flood
to the drab town of Greymouth. My hostel
is a converted monastery called Noah’s Ark with paintings of animals in each
room. Did they know I was coming or was it
just happenchance that I am in the Monkey room?
I postulate comedic coincidence with maybe some ironic divine meddling
added in for good measure. Either way I
need to row myself to another town soon.
January 14, 2012
Today was another unglamorous day for hitch hiking. Leaving Greymouth was difficult enough as I
walked for nearly an hour and a half with my arm extended from my side with as
much enthusiasm as a snowman’s twig protruding from his melting corpse. Rumors fly about the advantages with hitch
hiking but their truths are about as likely as a winged pig. Supposedly walking
is supposed to increase your chances of being picked up for some unknown
reason. And yet after plodding along for
nearly 9 kilometers without so much as a flickering break light, I finally quit
walking, dropped my bags and within moments I was in a van with a couple of
German girls heading south. Hitch hiking
pretty much comes down to a) being in the right spot (edge of town before the
speed limit increases with only one road going out) and b) getting lucky that
someone sees your absurd smile plastered on your face and thinks “oh hey, I
guess I have enough space somewhere to stash this grinning idiot who needs a
ride” Beyond that it’s just a roll of
the dice.
By the way if you haven’t come to realize I talk about
meeting Germans a lot and it’s not because I have a certain penchant to seek
them out. It’s just that every single
backpacker in New Zealand is
German.
And so we drove along the west coast, stopping to view
the jade carvings in the town of Hokitika and then continuing through the
downpour towards the two villages that play host to the local glaciers. Of course the town they wanted was before mine,
which meant disembarking back into the hurricane and waiting for another
passerby to take pity on my pathetic self, hunched under a child sized leaky umbrella. Success; an unlikely American driver stopped
and I made my final 15 km to Fox Glacier.
My intentions are to go view the Fox Glacier from the free of charge
viewing area and then take an extended hike around the side to a supposedly
great viewing area. However if it
continues to rain as it has been I’ll rent a raft and float to the glacier and
then paddle on to Queenstown. Neither my
time nor my money can afford standing around anymore. I have all but purchased my return flight to
America and it looks like I have less than 3 weeks of my great adventure. The thought of re-entering America has me a
bit tenuous to say the least. There is a
certain someone that I will be elated to see again but I am curious about
engaging with the old lifestyle and society of home.
January 15, 2012
So Fox Glacier was nearly a bust due to the weather. There was what had appeared to be a break in
the rain that I was keen to take advantage of.
A 5km trail leads from the village town of Fox Glacier to the glacier
itself where you are allowed to walk up a certain distance before being halted
by ropes warning you of the impending danger of falling ice sheets. The walk was pleasant enough but due to the
recent heavy rain the warning ropes had been pulled back significantly and the
viewpoint was less than fantastic. The glacier looks like a big snow river more
than anything else and to be fair it is quite large and impressive, but not
enough to pay the $150 to go walk on it.
Nonetheless I snapped my photo and immediately torrents of rain fell
from above. In 90 seconds I was soaking
wet and muttering to myself yet again about why I had abandoned my rain jacket.
