On Monday morning I took the Tranz-Alpine train to Greymouth. This is a special train trip which some folks book their New Zealand tickets expressly for. I say this because Dawn, the woman who sat next to me on the journey (before we walked to the viewing car), said that she flew to NZ mainly for this train trip. I spent the majority of the train ride (the entire morning) in the viewing car, which has open-air access to the outside world. I leaned on the railings and my head out of the car, like a dog.
At Arthur's Pass I got out just to get this picture of the engine.
When I arrived in Greymouth, I took the shuttle to Punakaiki, which is famous for its "Pancake Rocks." Over millions of years the skeletons of tiny sea animals formed limestone, which upsurged, and later eroded. No one really knows how these rock pillars formed, except that one theory (my favorite theory and why I mention it here) is that the pillars were composed of limestone and mudstone. During the erosion process, the alleged mudstone would have disintegrated, leaving these pancake stacks.
Sometimes during high tide and stormy weather, these rocks seem to spout water. They're called blowholes. While I was there, though, they remained calm. It was a beautiful day. I've had such good luck with weather but do wish I would've seen the stacks look like waterfalls, too.
Afterwards, I walked two kilometers up the road, alongside towering limestone cliffs and ferns and flax galore (pungas, nikaus, kie-kies) to the Truman Track, which took me to the coast. I passed a small waterfall, quite a few boulders, and walked out to where these gulls were bathing.
Upon returning to the hostel, I met a German woman named Kirsten, and we walked together toward the pancake rocks so as to see the sunset. These photos are just views from the road and the hostel. The shuttle driver had said that this stretch of ocean road has been considered one of the ten most scenic coastal drives in the world. I would agree wholeheartedly.
That night I took myself out for pumpkin soup at a local pub, had a hot tub on the shore, slept soundly enough to wake up early and walk out to the Pororari River. There I rented a kayak and wetsuit and booties. While doing so, a young woman named Gina arrived and wanted some companionship, so we kayaked together. At first I was hoping for a solitary morning journey, especially since no one I had spoken with had rented a kayak and I was being prideful and adventurous. Later, not only was I glad for the company, but Gina urged us to push on upriver, even when it seemed time to head back. She was right; the current took us back downriver so quickly that it was worth it to explore further than the time seemed to allow. (My shuttle was leaving at noon.)
I took the only shuttle leaving for Greymouth that day. That evening I went to the History House, where I saw pictures of turn-of-the-century (19th century, that is) ships with broken hulls, strange scuba gear, and photos of rugby players from the 1920s. These were funny photos, guys with combovers and socks up to their knees. They sat cross-legged and looked kind and sensitive. Compare them with the All Blacks team, who look so mighty and exude coolness (except for when they're sore losers after their recent disappointment in France). Following that, I went on a tour of the Monteith's Brewery. The brewery had changed their name three times to arrive at the sparkling name of Monteith's, which sounds like someone's dental work, but they happen to have award-winning ambers and darks, and, yeah, I'd say, "Not bad." Guinness, given its creamy quality is still preferable, but the Old Dark brand is still quite yummy.
After the brewery tour and tasting, I joined a few of the people from the tour next door at Speight's, the competition. Speight's beer is also not bad, but I continued drinking Old Darks. Eun Ju (which may not be spelled correctly) is from Korea, and the other two are from the UK. They told me the fascinating story of how they met, on the Internet no less! She's Glaswegian and he's from London. She was told never to marry an Englishman, but there you go. Perfect match and a delightful couple. We treated each other to beers and good conversation.
The next morning, Wednesday, I was up early to catch the bus back to Christchurch. Here's sun-up from outside the hostel.
1 comment:
Is there any part of NZ that is not stunning?
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