Conflicting Emotions (Nelson to Kaikōura via Blenheim, New Zealand)

Our nocturnal neighbour was a little quieter last night. Perhaps the pickings are slimmer on a Sunday. She was home at 3:15am. Alone. Ah, snuggle down, it's time for sleep, dear reader. Until the sun fingered its way through the clouds and our curtains.

It's a transit day and getting ever closer to the flight home. The impact of this is to re-focus on the packing of the bags so we get it right in Kaikōura prior to the airport dash. There shouldn't really be any concerns although I have acquired a pair of walking boots, and umbrella and several shirts since leaving Sydney. And Jayne, you ask? She has shed a pair of hiking sandals and picked up pandora charm and a net cardigan. The latter was a bargain for $25NZ. The last attempted purchase of such a garment was in Europe and they were asking €40. An absolute bargain - so glad we waited.

The morning cloud thickened, threatened and then dumped the rain we were expecting. Thanks for that 'sun city', Nelson, the home of sunshine in New Zealand. Not today. The rain accompanied us on the journey for some time.

The tide was out as we drove toward Blenheim. Something we had not yet witnessed. The Maitai River is reduced to a stream and its banks are not particularly attractive. At least that explained why there was little in the way of tourist/hospitality development on the river. The same could be said for the bay. It is wide and shallow and resplendent when under a blue sky. Not so pretty when the tide is out and the rain is falling.

Nelson to Blenheim is a classic Kiwi drive. It commences in the bay area and heads for the mountains, covering a range of climatic as well as road conditions. We experienced the steep mountain climbs, the hair pin bends, road works, contra flows, rain, drizzle, sunshine, cloud. All within about 90 minutes.

Flowers! The gardens of Blenheim.

Blenheim was out to impress. A cloudless blue sky, a welcome sight after the drive. As you drive into the town there is the most magnificent park and garden. We were stopping for coffee anyway, so I parked near the garden. As I was taking photos I could hear, but not see, someone, um, let's call it singing. Found him. A 'traveller', he had dropped his backpack near the Memorial Tower and stepped inside to harness the superior acoustics of the space. Admittedly I did not recognise any of the songs, but he was providing great amusement to other people, presumably locals, who were enjoying the park and its gardens.

Can you hear the music?

To the CBD Café for coffee and sweet treats. Skip the treats, stay with the coffee. The service is efficient enough, but the customers are slower than a wet week in Greymouth. I just wanted to push some of them in the back to help them get to the counter. Decorum and the possibility of breaking several of their frail, brittle bones encouraged me to behave.

Beautiful. Even without the sound.

Subsequently, a quick search discovered a Kathmandu store in close proximity. Jayne's jandals beckoned siren-like, well the possibility of their purchase called us. To no avail. On the walk back to the car we were once again regaled by the unknown singer who had decamped to another monument and was amusing an entirely new audience. Who said nothing ever happens in Blenheim?

Back on the road, the sunshine dissipated rapidly and was replaced with, at varying times: gale force winds, torrential rain, blue sky, cloud. We had it all, four seasons in one day - and no, that was never considered as the title for this post. Oh, yeah, and contra flows, did I mention them? At least three.

I was shocked to find street art in Kaikōura.

Highway 1, heading to Kaikōura, is NZ's great ocean road drive (if you're Australian). The highway snakes along the coast and the views heading south are epic/awesome/choice. On a fine day. Today I was more concerned with keeping the car on the road in between cyclonic gusts and rain downpours. Had the weather been different, this post would be punctuated with pictures of turquoise waters and black beaches. Maybe I would have stopped to photograph the three morons who chose the sheltered spot to go surfing - you know, the corner of the beach out of the wind that hasn't seen a surfable wave all day. How cool do they look to the passing traffic? Yeah, not that cool in my book. They might catch a cold, but that would be it.

Kaikōura is a Maori word, kai is food and kōura is crayfish. Or creyfush as they say here. Maybe lobster would be easier to say. We arrived at the almost brand new Sudima Hotel in blustery conditions with the rain not knowing what to do. Our room is lovely and has water views, an unexpected bonus. the staff are delightful, although the young man on the desk didn't get Jayne's sense of humour. "What brings you to Kaikōura?" he asked. "Sunshine," replied Jayne, deadpan. One of the girls at the desk laughed. Not he, "Oh!" was the response.

Snow capped mountains and a sea view.

The weather did improve late in the afternoon, but not early enough for us to don rain jackets and brave the buffeting wind. Instead we opted to dine in at the hotel restaurant and research some possible excursions for tomorrow. The possibilities are endless; tramping, eating crayfish, tramping, photographing wildlife, eating crayfish, tramping. We'll make the best attempt to include drinking wine in tomorrow's agenda as well.

Lengthening shadows, but sunshine.

Dinner at Hiku at the hotel was most enjoyable. They do a good crayfish (lobster). Service was great and we chatted, OK, Jayne chatted with an American couple at the next table and our American server. The light was fading, but we snapped a few shots before returning to our room.

The title today, from the 1983 Split Enz album of the same name, sums up how we feel. Our trip is drawing to a close and while it will be good to heading home, there is more to explore.

Tomorrow the sun is supposed to be shining and we will be walking around the headland trail.

Until next time ...

Walking through the ruins (Christchurch to Dunedin, New Zealand)

Our last morning in Christchurch presented itself with hope and possibility, dear reader. Not that we cared, we were going to be on the road by 11am heading for Dunedin, a drive of not quite 5 hours. Before that, breakfast. "The greatest pie you'll ever try" read the advertising. They love a bit of hyperbole (pronounced hyperbowl if you're that fool Andrew Bolt) over here in the seventh state. Yesterday the best cheese toasties in the world, weren't. However, the pie lived up to its strut and was everything it said it would be. Very tasty and terrific pastry; not the greatest I've ever had, but close.

Looks as good as it tasted.

After fending off vicious flocks of attack birds. OK, they were sparrows, 100% committed to keeping the tables outside the pie shop sparkling clean. We went to the Majestic Tea rooms for a final coffee. In we walked and the young woman behind the counter welcomed us and enquired, "Two long blacks?" This was the third time we walked into the shop. Very well done.

Jayne being watched by the cleaners.

With no further reason to delay our departure, we returned to the hotel and checked out. We drove away, once they had brought the car around, a request we made an hour earlier. The Novotel is good in so many ways, but it just seems to be missing the little details that make an experience next level.

More street art.

Before leaving Christchurch and with the unseasonal weather closing in on us, we detoured to the other memorial for the quake victims, the white chair exhibit. It is situated on the outskirts of the main city centre on a site where another church once stood. This earthquake must have really rocked the fundamentalist christians, destroying so many churches.

The white chair memorial.

Our guide for yesterday's walk actually prefers this memorial. While I can understand why, I prefer the peace and serenity of the wall and walkway by the river. The installation is set out in a circular formation of 185 individual chairs that have been painted white. Each chair represents someone who died in the quake and each chair is different, from the baby car capsule for the 5 week old, through to a wheelchair. The site is on a busy intersection so the traffic noise is a constant distraction. As an installation, the concept is great, if only they could find another space as a permanent home that also conveys respect.

There are areas of Christchurch where you feel like you are still walking through ruins as Split Enz sang in 1981. However, it is a beautiful place (despite the weather), and the people are lovely. There are still things for us to do here so we will return at some stage.

Of course the drizzle, not forecast and unseasonal, had recommenced as we walked back to the car. Between there and Timaru it rarely let up. Sometimes it was light rain at other times it was torrential, to the extent where we worried what Dunedin would bring given its reputation.

Caroline Bay across the sand dunes.

Before that, we stopped at Timaru at Caroline Bay. Jayne's grandfather was born here (another skeleton in the closet, Kiwi blood). The bay is quite open and the water is the most beautiful turquoise, although very windy. We walked along the boardwalk and into the park in search of the famed rose garden. The park is large and the garden not sign posted so it proved a challenge, but we succeeded. It would be quite spectacular when the first blush of roses comes on, but at this stage of the season it was in need of some love and affection, and a good tip prune. The collection boasts roses from many countries time periods, some going back centuries.

Not up to standard (see what I did there?).

Back into the car for the final drive to Dunedin which was complicated only by New Zealand roads and overly patient, polite New Zealand drivers. There were a number of road work areas which slowed us down - the worst, a 10 minute wait at a section where a contra flow had been set up. 

This is the 'Face of Peace' apparently. It gave me nightmares.

The road from Christchurch to Dunedin is Highway 1. No, not Sherbet when they tried to shed their teen image dear reader. It's the main highway and for most of the way, it is single carriageway with specific overtaking lanes. You'll be pleased to know that the sign  "Passing Lane in 4 KMs" means the same thing in NZ as it does in Australia - speed up so no one can pass you and then slow down again once the passing opportunity is gone. Frustrating. As is sitting in a line of cars when it is clear to overtake, but no one does because it's not a dedicated passing lane.

One of the very few blooms in the Rose Gaarden.

One of the many signs along the highway grabbed our attention. "Seen a wallaby?" it screamed. Report it! Apparently the Kiwis are scared of wallabies, just not the kind that play rugby. No seriously, they are another introduced species. The colonisers really had no idea, did they? Australian possums are an absolute scourge over here as are stoats and in the 1800s the English introduced 5 species of wallaby for hunting. Two species are still quite prevalent - on the South Island it is Bennett's Wallaby. 

The view from near our apartment, well at the bottom of the driveway.

Driving into Dunedin on a cloudless afternoon is quite spectacular. The ocean was a brilliant blue to match the sky and the sun was so welcome after Christchurch. Declan, the Irish voice of Siri, navigated us to our apartment. The beautiful weather was our first shock, the second was the steepness of the streets. Nowhere did it say Dunedin was carved into a cliff face and you would be required to abseil to shops and the restaurant strip. Walking distance it said. Walking distance on the way down; the return journey would be a different matter. Rope ladders?

The house next door. Understated.

The apartment is lovely. It's a studio with a little courtyard, kitchenette, bathroom/laundry and walk in robe with a bag storage area. And it is walking distance to the restaurant strip or the octagon hub as it is depicted on the map.

Dunedin is a university city and the students are back this week, as all the locals keep telling us. There were live bands playing on campus and we could hear them into the night because of the natural amphitheatre effect of the hills. That was our soundtrack as we walked down the street and stairs in search of dinner. Café culture rules in a university town but they all close in the afternoon and we had no idea where we going so we wandered around the octagon until we found a place with a vacant table, Vault 21, on the inside of the octagon, proved an excellent choice. Southeast Asian influenced, the food was very tasty and the service was great.

Is that a castle? Um, no, it's Otago Boys' High School.

And the walk home you ask dear reader? Let's not dwell on it. Dunedin is home to the steepest street in the world. We are not staying there, it just feels like it.

The next morning proved that cloudless blue sky we enjoyed yesterday afternoon was no aberration. It was an absolute stunner and while we weren't going to waste it, we have decided to slow the pace a little.

The railway station.

First stop was the farmers' markets at Dunedin Railway Station. Much of the building is undergoing restoration and is under wraps. The grounds are beautiful with hedges, lawns and flower beds. The markets were next door in a car park area, adjacent to the platform and tracks. It was the usual fare, fresh fruit and vegies, butchery items from the land and sea, preserves and an assortment of bakery and fast food items and mind-numbingly stupid people who behave live mindless morons and block every passage of access and egress while deciding what to do next. We made an obligatory purchase, pork sausage rolls, the only ones on the entire South Island (allegedly).

Jayne asked was the station still in use and then ...

We then headed for Emerson's Brewery, a favourite local establishment. It was opened by a father and son in the '90s and proved so popular and so successful that Speight's (a big brewer) bought them out. We were a tad earlier than anticipated so we walked down to the under-cover stadium where Otago take on Auckland this evening.

Good food, good beer, good times.

Back at the Brewery, we found a table in semi-shade and sampled some of their wares. On the front page of the 'Drinks' menu it says, "DRINKS, well, mostly beers, but you are in a brewery". Makes sense. Jayne went for a Porter's Ale and I had the usual Pilsener. Lunch was, fish and chips, well we are in New Zealand and we had to hear it said at some point.

Robbie Burns (and seagull) looking over a couple of pubs in the Octagon.

Then it was time to steel ourselves for the scaling of the mountain back up to our accommodation, where the afternoon was spent sitting in the sunshine, blogging and sipping Central Otago wine.

Until tomorrow, which promises more sunshine.