Overnight Staying

I just don't get this. Since the 2011 bylaw (brought about by lobbying holiday park owners and disrespectful and noisy freedom campers) there are now town zones where overnight parking is prohibited. In theory you just drive outside the restricted area to park. But we found in the Tasman District Council area, laybys in such places with 'No Overnight Staying' on them outside the restricted zone as seen from the map. Then when we reached Marahau at 8 am, the DOC car park at the start of the Abel Tasman Track was full of campers who had clearly been there overnight. Within the restricted zone.

So far on this trip we have stayed overnight in a hotel, two laybys, a Department of Conservation Regional Park, a car park in Wellington city centre and Marahau Beach Camp.
For the latter we paid $70 and got electrical hook-up, showers $1 for five minutes, washing machine use for $3 and the same for dryers. No need for detergent in the washing machines as the sign told us it was added 'auto-magically' The washing machines also disliked 'tramping boots, tents, other heavy gear and country music'. Camp site owners with a sense of humour catering for people in colourful campervans, motorhomes, car drivers with tents, those walking the track, kayaking or taking a water taxi. There was also a shop selling essentials and of course a dump station and fresh water. Things you miss while freedom camping. Not to mention the WiFi at $5 for 24 hours. I've paid a lot more. All in all, a lovely stay at Marahau Beach Camp.

The Rankers app has an interactive offline map so you can check out camping spots (free and paid) which is useful but some of the reviews are years old and in the case of the lakeside parking area in Rotorua that we had to abandon, there are only three designated motorhome parking spaces and although a review a year ago stated that up to ten had parked without trouble, that was not the case for us as security moved us on. There also appeared to be a number of reviews that did not apply to the sites that we stayed on.
Our motorhome has a blue self-containment sticker which means it can be parked on these freedom camping sites. 

When you reach Wanaka, there is a huge information board warning you about where you can't stay overnight. Basically, anywhere within the town/residential area. It is a 'No Freedom Camping Zone'. If you are caught (a high chance, judging by Rankers reviews) you will be fined $200. I thought this was per vehicle but a sign in Manapouri informed us it was PER PERSON. Ouch! They really don't want you here. Which, on the one hand is understandable. Residents shouldn't be disturbed. People should not leave evidence of their stay. But they do, and the sheer numbers that visit New Zealand put pressure on the country with these resuts. Or is it the locals? I hate to say it, but we have been told by New Zealanders that it is them who are causing trouble too.

When we came here 14 years ago, there was a large community of travellers in buses, house trucks, groups of RV enthusiasts, vintage vehice clubs... where are they all staying overnight? Obviously not in the town areas but as we noticed, there are some no 'camping signs' in laybys well outside the towns. 

Motorhome Matters

Driving
I didn't think I would drive our rented motorhome as we are short of time for me to get used to it on this trip. I drove our Mitsubishi Canter 14 years ago, also a rented motorhome in Australia but this beast is six berth, 7.7 m long and 3.3 m high)  and although it is the same make as the van Henry drives 50,000 miles a year in, it is wider and longer and it's automatic. Even he struggled at first, fishing around for gears that weren't there and putting his foot on the brake thinking it was the clutch causing sudden, alarming stops  - that's when you discover what isn't secured properly.

So be warned even if you are an experienced driver. A previous driver of our Britz motorhome had had a scrape that caused damage all the way down the side of the vehicle in various places. Awareness of the height and width is important when negotiating overhanging branches for example.

On the Air New Zealand flight there was a useful video called Drive Safe. They are right to point out that the roads can be winding and you need to allow plenty of time. This is hard to do as there is so much to see and it is spread out across the country. Better to allow three to four weeks on the South Island if you have the time/money. Better to have two drivers as well.
So far I have driven the vehicle three times and found it easier than expected. That said, I was being cautious. Things do bounce about quite a bit too, which seems to be normal. 

Interior
This six-berth beast may seem big but all motorhomes have their faults and on the interior the space between the 'kitchen' area and the washroom/rear seating area is tight, which can be very irritating when people want to pass. I can't imagine six adults in here. Adults and children maybe.

Henry had a complaint about the lack of Bluetooth connectivity through the radio. He needed it when he was driving as all motorhomes make a din when on the road and it would have relieved the boredom on a long journey. The radio was a very basic AM/FM radio with a lack of reception too. He also found a lack of arm rest a bit irritating.

You can charge your phone in one USB port and there is a 12v socket in the cab which you can plug an inverter into. The plugholes do not work unless you are plugged into electrical hookup though.
You are advised not to bring hard suitcases, just fold-up bags to put under the seats. We brought a couple of small hard bags which we have been able to stow in the alcove sleeping area as it is capacious. In fact, the bedding and towels (all brown in colour) get stored up here in the daytime. Freya commented that she was acting like a dung beetle as she pushed her duvet up there this morning.

After a week. we had a problem with the kitchen tap in our motorhome. When we put the pump on, water came out of the tap even when it was turned off.
It was handy that we were in Queenstown as there is a depot there. One of only a handful on both islands. However, they couldn't get hold of another tap quickly enough. They had a go at fixing it which improved things but the system was still making a noise like a badly played didgeridoo. There also was an airlock we never even mentioned, that caused water to come up both sinks and be very slow to drain from the tiny washroom one. 
So it was a pleasant surprise when Britz said they would give us money back on our credit
card for the cost of a few holiday parks. Much needed if you are struggling to use your water.

Falling With Style

At 7.30am we were supposed to phone the skydive company again. Glenorchy was still on hold they said. I suggested Queenstown. Their sister company, Nzone. OK, meet there at 11.30am.
I think I was feeling more nervous than Joe. Once there, milling round with all these young people, I felt my mouth go dry. We watched a safety video and advice on choosing photo options. A GoPro on the tamdem skydive instructor, a separate camera flyer or the ultimate combo of both. Joe was persuaded to jump from 12,000ft instead of 9,000ft, as it is all over so quickly and the extra 3,000ft is only another $50.

The whole process takes a long time. You need to set aside a whole day. Well, two if you want to allow for bad weather. There is a lot of waiting in the centre in Queenstown, then a drive to the drop zone by minibus, then more waiting, then getting into all your gear in the hangar, waiting for your turn on the plane. Joe was unfazed. He didn't feel nervous, except once they were about to jump out. The video shows his face looking like it is made of Plasticine, pulled about by the force of the wind. It all happened so quickly that once he had come down to earth and was back with us he found it hard to describe or even remember his experience, and during the rest of the day he kept getting flashbacks. One thing he got to do that Henry and I didn't on our skydives was to control the parachute. From my point of view, I was glad when he was safely back on the ground and we could eventually head back to Queenstown for some epic pies from Mrs Ferg's Bakery. Next to Ferg's Gelato and Fergburger (the latter had a massive queue all day long).

It's Arrowtown Holiday Park tonight so we can get power and do laundry. We are jammed in like on a car park. Close your curtains and forget where you are.

Waiting

It had been a shock to us as we got out at Wanaka, the air was freezing! The drop in temperature was drastic. Here in the mountains you needed everything you'd got. It was woolly hat weather. 

I guess the skydiving urge is genetic. Joe had volunteered to do one and I'd booked him in at Glenorchy. Trouble was, the weather was no good for jumping out of a plane. The wind had been fierce in the night at Bendigo, and Lake Wakatipu was whipped up at Glenorchy, with rain showers. Snow had fallen in the night on nearby hills. So we kicked our heels at Glenorchy. I had allowed a few days spare in this area. It is a beautiful place, hugged by impressive mountains. If you walk out without a camera you feel conspicuous. There must also be a word to describe a compulsion to take photos. It is like a disease round here.

Having rung Skydive Southern Alps about four times to get weather updates and being told it was all 'on hold' we headed out to Glacier Burn, a place to overnight if you were self-contained. We had a stunning view of snowy mountains. The walk was 1-2 hours and we decided to do some of it. Light snow fell as we set out. A river to traverse was a challenge. How to avoid taking your boots off and get to the other side. We grabbed pieces of rotted trees, huge rocks were thrown in, and after about 20 minutes we all made it across. I pointed out to people that we had to get back across and that you shoud never go somewhere if you hadn't thought about how to get back. The walk, aided by red markers on trees, took us into a forest (probably part of Fangorn!) and up through steep climbs, the forest floor covered in ferns. Fungi were strange to see in April for us, as we had been through a hard winter, heading for spring and now thrust back into autumn. Before it got dark we made it back to the motorhome. Freya got her boots wet in the river.
 

Where's the Glacier?

At Fox Glacier I was unable to get my bearings. The car park that led to the walk to the glacier bore no resembance to my memory, neither did the walk. I have a photo of Joe sitting on a large rock right next to the glacier face. Now it was nowhere to be seen! The car park was on a built-up area, people walked upwards from it on a grey path through a construction zone. Yes, there were  diggers and dumpers working here, continually shoring up the pathway with large rocks and doing goodness knows what in the valley below us. Finally, after a pretty steep climb, we reached the furthest point permitted and looked across at the glacier, some distance away. Retreated beyond belief, a glacier apocalypse. Some information boards at the start showed a comparison between 2008 and 2014. The glacier must have halved in those six years.

At Fox Glacier there is a choice of another walk 5kms away. Lake Matheson, the photogenic lake that reflects Mount Cook and Mount Tasman. Sometimes. On this still, overcast day wispy white cloud kept the two famous peaks behind a veil of mystery. The walk was supposed to take one and a half hours but we did it in one, even with photos. Mind you, everything on me below the waist hurt, as I'd walked about 30 miles in five days.

Been there, done that, quick march, cup of tea, now drive, drive, drive... three and a half hours later - Wanaka dump station - then onwards another 40 minutes to Bendigo picnic area for the night. A huge free camp we found on the Rankers app again. Penty of campers there, at the lake. Pity some sick truck drivers thought to blow their horns for as long as they could as they passed at 4am. 
 

Down the West Coast

I didn't want to leave Marahau. I sat in glorious sunshine waiting for the washing to finish and a lady from the camp staff told me we were due for 'some wet' as the weather had been good for six and a half weeks since the cyclone went through. Well, we have had five days of warm sunshine so far and this is a sunny, wine-growing region, further south will be cooler. 
The roads were straight to start with but then we reached Hope Saddle and had hairpin bends to cope with. Hope Saddle Lookout gave panoramic views but the car parking was tight. At Murchison we stopped for diesel and Henry spotted an antique shop with vintage cars and trucks outside called 'Dust and Rust'. 

The temptation was too much. Inside was a Datsun pick-up truck with an animal skin over it's bonnet. At the other end of the shop was a cart with red wheels and a red seat, on sale for $4,000. An array of antique objects filled the display area, such as a postage meter machine from 1932, an apple coring machine, a bean slicer, a till, clothing and pots and pans. Apparently, vintage car clubs gather here. The West Coast is reminiscent of America: shops with awnings and wide streets. Westport fitted this description. We shopped at New World supermarket again and were offered a visitor loyalty card. Yay! How generous of them. They got it working straight away and we saved  $12. Worth knowing. All this was took time. The itinerary was knocked sideways. Signs for 'Queenstown 232km' were not encouraging.

The winding coastal road took us through a tunnel of green that is the West Coast: temperate rainforest, grass such a vivid green it looked unreal, nikau palms and silver fern trees, slopes of bush or walls of ferns on one side of us; on the other a wild white sea foaming in, jagged outcrops of rock standing alone against the spray. Waterfalls are viewed easily from the road, one we stopped at - impressive.

It was getting late as we reached the Pancake Rocks area, stopping at the car park that allowed overnight parking if your vehicle was self-contained. Then we had the cheek to subject our poor bodies to a 20-minute walk up a steep road to view the Pancake Rocks, barely visible due to the failing light. There was a blob of yellowy light on the horizon that called itself a sunset. 
 

Sustained Over-Exertion

An aqua taxi had been booked in Marahau for 9am but you had to be there half an hour earlier. It seemed the world and his wife were here, setting their rucksacks down and applying sunscreen. People can camp along the Abel Tasman Track. It is a coastal path, though does go inland as well. Our taxi got towed out by a tractor that pulled us across the beach and through pretty deep water until the boat was afloat. It wasn't just a journey straight to Bark Bay - they kindly took people to look at points of interest including the Split Apple Rock, shags in the trees and New Zealand Fur Seal pups on Adele Island, a stronghold for wildlife.

A breath-taking boat ride to our beach, then we had to remove our boots to wade through the shallow waters, watching out for sting rays.  At first (well, probably until halfway) the walk was an absolute delight, taking us on twists and turns round bays, listening to the sound of birdsong that is so evocative of New Zealand, gorgeous views of turquoise green or crystal clear waters. A stop at Torrent Bay gave us a chance for a swim and lunch. Here were holiday homes, one cost 25 million to put in place our aqua taxi skipper had told us. 

Cleopatra's Pool was worth a 10-minute diversion off the track but then the sign board showed Marahau (the name means windy garden) to be 4 hours and 40 minutes away. Some of us started speed walking. Joe and I ended up in front. Actually, after hours of agony, we discovered it had only taken 3 hours and 20 minutes to cover the 25 km back to our motorhome, but boy did it hurt.
 

North to South

Our choice of car park had limitations. The motorhome, six berth, was so wide and long we doubted it coud be manoeuvred out of the space if people parked either side of us and the only solution was to move it to the Bluebridge Ferry Terminal. Joe and Freya went into the museum and Henry and I were the poor souls who had to do a speed walk of 17 minutes back to the museum after we had re-parked. Exiting the museum car park using a credit card didn't seem to lift the barrier and Henry had to call for help. It cost $30 in the end.

Eventually we got to see the Gallipoli exhibition at Te Papa which was so comprehensive it would have taken three hours at least to read everything. The main attraction was of course the models - two and a half times life size and awe-inspiring. No detail had been left out. I stared at the enormous head of a man that had veins in the eyes, sunburnt skin, pores, freckles and even beads of sweat on him.

The ferry left in early afternoon and once on board we went straight for the restaurant. The food selection was great and delicious. The vegetarian lasagne included pumpkin - yes, it is autumn here. The ferry was full of passengers even in April, some of them lorry drivers. There were no comfortable seats free so we became stuck at the tables for the three-and-a-half-hour crossing of Cook Strait. The wind was fierce out on deck but the views worth it, often wooded mountains on both sides of us.

As we set off on the other side the sunset wowed us with red and orange shades over the mountain range but then everything became an endurance test. Driving for three hours, some of it through very winding roads uphill and downhill. Finally we got close to the area and looked for a layby. Trying to avoid a town where we knew there was a restricted zone, we went up into the hills and only managed to find one deep picnic area without a 'no overnight parking' sign where we spent the night.
 

Wellington

This was supposed to be a 'city day' but we really wanted to look at Rivendell. Things had been added since 2003: new signs, a height post you could stand against and measure yourself up to Legolas (2.1m), or Frodo down the bottom, who was the size of a child. There was replica stone archway, not full size, where we posed, pretending to be leaving Rivendell. Joe encouraged us to go on the Swingbridge Walk which was one hour long. Bang goes the itinerary but sometimes you have to go with the flow. Walking through native bush helped to rejuvinate us. A sign indicating the river with a swimming symbol on it had me racing down the slope like an eager child. I couldn't wait to get in there, the day was heating up already. A swimming hole provided a great place for skinny dipping - very refreshing.

Before we reached Wellington, a dump station stop was needed. This sort of necessary evil takes about half an hour with emptying grey water and refilling fresh water. 

We had to save money somehow and my way of doing it was to make my family walk for half an hour to get into the city centre, just to avoid paying for parking. Still, we got to see Wellington close up, swept along with the busy crowd, glancing up at the skyscrapers reflecting the buildings opposite them.

Our first destination was the cable car. A reasonable price if you go one way. Renovation work had been done in 2009, and the tunnel had been jazzed up immeasurably with something to amuse you as passed through it: An array of lights that changed colour. 

At the top we stopped for coffees and a dozen sparrows entertained us on the next table by descending on some left-over cake. The way back down into Wellington was via the Botanic Gardens where huge monarch butterflies danced over the flower beds. Our route was helped by following a mosaic pattern in the path. 

This day in Wellington involved a huge amount of walking, not only that, it was speed walking, eating on the hoof some Subway rolls purchased on the way. The reason for the rush was that Joe and Henry were booked in for a tour of the Weta Cave, Wellington's famous special effects and model-making workshop, renowned for its involvement with the Lord of the Rings movies. Their guide began with a safety briefing. 'In the event of an earthquake, lie on the foor with your hands over your head then leave by the exit.' Well. Fortunately nothing happened. The latest project for Weta Workshops was the construction of models for the exhibition at Te Papa Museum, which centred around the battle at Gallipoli in 1915. Each eyebrow on the soldier's face took six hours to complete as the hairs lie in seven different ways. Hair on their heads was human in origin but not for the beards and moustaches, they came from goats.

Joe and Henry also learned about the armour used - metal for close-up shots and plastic for those more distant shots. During the filming of Lord of the Rings 10,000 arrows were fired from a cannon and only 700 retrieved so there are many arrows lying in fields for future generations to find and wonder at.

We crammed in a visit to Scorching Bay nearby (but accessed by hairpin bends) to find some changes. The Chocolate Fish Cafe seemed to go by a different name. The sea was fairly inviting for a quick swim though the sun had gone off the beach as it was now nearly 5pm.

Our motorhome was now moved to the Te Papa Car Park. It seemed smaller as there was a Jim Beam event going on with marquees and also construction work. You can park here overnight.  Joe had to be dragged out into the city that evening, he was so tired. Cuba Street did not have buskers in it - maybe they are there in the daytime. It also had noisy groups of young people outside the bars which wasn't our scene so we found a quieter Irish bar round the corner. 

The car park proved to be tolerable for noise, considering we were in the city centre.
 

Across the North Island

I don't sleep well in a layby. I was 'on guard' all night. I barely slept and the constant traffic didn't help. Day 2 - we were up quickly and heading for Kerosene Creek first thing in the morning. We noticed a blue-green lake near the entrance of Old Waiotapu Road, steam rising from it. It took several minutes to reach the end of the road and the car park. Soon we were heading for the creek, apart from Henry at first, who stayed behind to keep an eye on the motorhome as this area is prone to crime. Soon a man arrived with a dog that he let out and then sat in his truck. Rather suspicious.

People had come down to the creek early, word has got around on the internet obviously. Sitting in a hot creek is something of  a novelty. The water was warm, not as hot as last time when we came here in the summer. Maybe it varies with the season. The best bit is the little waterfall, sit on the rocks and have warm water cascade around you... wonderful.
Several hours of driving followed, as we made our way to Napier. The scene changed from flat farmland to photogenic mountains. We had had to miss Hawkes Bay on our last trip to New Zealand, despite being here for so long and I was determined to see the area, the sunniest of the North Island. True enough, the sun shone as we walked along the Marine Parade. When we had arrived in Auckland, I had six layers on - it had been snowing in Britain. Now we were strolling about in T-shirts. Napier is arty, colourful, festive and relaxed. Art Deco buildings abound. For lunch we stopped at Zambrero, where they had a sign lit up which read 'Lets Beat World Hunger'. They donate a meal to someone in need for every burrito purchased. Joe had one and the rest of us tried vegetarian tacos. 

Our next task was to get to Upper Hutt by dusk. We were aiming for Kaitoke Regional Park, run by the Department of Conservation. They closed the gate at dusk and we were not sure what counted as dusk. It was a four-hour drive and we had barely enough time. It was nail-biting as we finally got beyond Featherstone and the road wound its way up a mountain and back down again. We made it: they shut the gate at 7pm so plenty of time. A river runs through this park which was the film site for Rivendell. If we had got here earlier we could have got permission from the rangers for a fire down by the river but you had to bring your own firewood. We put our $24 fee in the honesty box and displayed the card provided. 

It quickly got dark and we took advantage of it by stargazing - the Southern sky being unfamiliar, there is no Plough and you have to look for the Southern Cross to orientate yourself.