New Zealand's Heart

"That's the life!" said a stranger passing in his truck as he observed us sunbathing outside our motorhome. "Enjoying the Fiordland sunshine. Where are you from?" As usual we struck up a conversation with a friendly New Zealander. Henry and I had just completed a lovely walk on the Kepler Track: one of the Great Walks where it is possible to enjoy a few hours tramping in stunning countryside.

From Rainbow Reach Car Park, cross the swing bridge and then the path starts to climb up through forest until there is a choice of destinations. Shallow Bay was our aim, providing a good variety of scenery.
The track follows the river, but from a height so you only get the chance to see it from viewpoints. Tomtits fly in front of you, huge ferns grace the path and mossy tendrils hang down from the trees.

It only took us just over an hour to reach Shallow Bay. Leaving at 9.30 am, we met three people near the start then no one for nearly an hour. Overall, we counted about fifty people there and back, nicely spread out and cheerfully greeting us, as you do when walking in such a beautiful place. Shallow Bay exceeded my expectations. It was awesome. No amount of time would be enough on such a beach. Lake Manapouri set off by several mountain ranges including the Kepler Mountains of course. At this time of year they were snow-capped and took your breath away. I stood and looked, and absorbed as much as I could. Just Henry and I here alone in peace.
Meanwhile, Joe and Freya were off on a Doubtful Sound cruise with Real Journeys. We had all done this trip when we last visited New Zealand but it is pretty expensive when you multiply it by four so this was our solution. Great to pack them off now they are adults! 
Starting from Pearl Harbour, Manapouri at 8 am, it returns at around 2.30 pm. The trip takes you over Lake Manapouri, then by coach across Wilmott Pass, then another cruise through Doubtful Sound. The day began with mists lingering over the lake - it had been a frosty start - and became sunny, though still cold. You could not wear a hat though unless you wanted to lose it as someone did. Joe said the guides were excellent and entertaining. 
Sometimes you can see dolphins on this trip but sadly none were seen this time. There was, however, a brief view of some little blue penguins.
I lost my heart to this magnificent part of the country, as we all did when we came here before. This is the image of New Zealand, where to go if you are a photographer, the area you just cannot miss. It is as 'New Zealand' as it gets. To me, this is the heart of New Zealand.

A Morris Minor Graveyard

Arrowtown had become more twee, a place for hipsters and people with plenty of money. It was fairly crowded with us tourists at 9.30 am. In our memories it was a gentle, slow-paced, sleepy town where we spent several overnight stays in the centre, visited the free museum (now $10 per person), panned for gold in the Arrow River, went to the outdoor swimming pool and played mini golf, soaking in the leisurely atmosphere. 

This time we stayed at the holiday park where they packed us in next to each other, filling up the numbered spaces chronologically instead of letting us spread out over the half-empty site.
In the morning we ambled around the town, trying to reclaim that feeling from years ago. Arrowtown is famous for its autumn tints so this was a good time of year to visit, though a little later wouldn't hurt, as not all the trees had changed colour. Buckingham Street is home to a charming row of miners' cottages. At least the Chinese settlement had not been 'improved' and there was no charge for entry.

A few hours' drive took us down to Te Anau and finally Manapouri for the night where we discovered an eccentric holiday park. This was the New Zealand we were familiar with, the country that attracts people with a zany sense of humour and a love of collecting things, especially elderly vehicles. Most were no longer roadworthy but a few had been running quite recently. Unfortunately someone's collection was now a car graveyard.

Morris Minors occupied pride of place: a cheeky little row of them, like naughty children in permanent detention. Rusty trucks, a tractor, Austins, Triumphs, Hillman Imps. Later we found a barn sheltering more Morris Minors: split screen, rare - from the early 1950s perhaps in the case of a few - and a police Morris Minor. I am actually an ex-Morris Minor owner. Mine broke down on me eight times in the few years I had it.

We loved this holiday park. It was immaculate. Antiquated in the case of the kitchen and TV room, but so homely. And the showers were free for seven minutes. Around us were quaint buildings where people stayed, tiny houses, and cabins that had their own gardens full of vegetables. All with a stunning view of Lake Manapouri.

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.