New Zealand and OZ winter holiday

For some years we have been promising ourselves a trip to New Zealand and now the time was right!  Having decided to go as far as New Zealand we felt we had to have a taste of OZ as well, so  . . .

This update is an attempt at a brief resume of what we did this winter, but even so it is quite long!  For those of you who have the time, we’ve picked some nice pics out of the millions we took!

We arrived in Auckland 26 hours after leaving Birmingham, having travelled on three planes and having had almost no sleep, but managed to cook supper in our hotel room and stay up till 8pm.  We got up at 9 am the next day feeling fine, despite dire warnings of jet lag and picked up our hire car.

We spent a couple of nights with friends Pierre and Anna in Auckland who had been Alex’s tenants in Harrogate.  We’d all become very friendly and we’d met Anna’s parents Ric and Jenni, in the UK too.  Pierre and Anna showed us around the city and took us for an amazing Asian-style barbi at a friend’s house. They also booked us a trip up the Sky Tower where we had lunch and watched people throwing themselves off the top!  Yes, really – a 300feet vertical free-fall which people pay hundreds of dollars to do!  Then we spent a night with Ric and Jenni who treated us to a lovely evening meal at the local fishing port, and lunch the next day (so kind). Then we travelled on to the Bay of Islands where our good friends Ken and Rhonda ex-owners of the barge SOMEWHERE now live, to spend a few days with them.

While we were there we drove to the very northern-most tip of the North Island – Cape Reigna – and to Russell and Keri Keri.  It was great to see K and R again, catch up with their new landlubbing life, and bring them up to date with the French canals. But ‘rain god’ Alex was weaving his usual spell and rain and showers were the order of the days.

Then Rhonda kindly helped us plan our trip down to Wellington at the southern end of the North Island.  We stayed a night at Rotorua in a motel with a hot sulphur pool where Alex languished for half an hour or so, relishing the 42C heat and the smell of sulphur!  The following morning we saw the hot springs, boiling mud and water geyser. And sun!

We spent a night at Napier which is a town built during the art nouveau period, where there happened to be a historic car weekend just coming to a close, which was great.  Everybody was dressed in 1920s clothes and that, together with the old cars, was quite a sight.

At Wellington, in the short time available, we took the cable car up the hill for a great view of the town, and drove round the harbours.

Early the next day, we dropped the hire car at the ferry terminal and caught the Inter-Islander ferry to Picton on the South Island.  Halfway there the ship was joined by a school of dolphins much to everybody’s excitement.  The weather though was not so good again with a strong wind and the ever present threat of rain.

At Picton we caught the train for the 5-hour trip south to Christchurch.  For half of the journey the line runs beside the Pacific coast, which provides some excellent scenic views before it heads off inland crossing many wide dry ‘braided’ river beds on its way to Christchurch.

At Christchurch, we were met by Alex’s cousin’s son Ghazi, who gave us a bed for the night and whose wife Rebecca gave us a delicious supper.  The following day we borrowed Rebecca’s car and drove to the campervan depot at about 10 am.  They apologised and said we would have to wait about an hour while our vehicle was prepared.  At 3.00 pm!! we eventually drove out of the depot with not the booked 4-berth van but a 6-berth (complaint letter is on its way) in convoy with Rebecca’s car, to drop it off for her.  Having done so we returned to the depot forthwith, to point out that the handbrake didn’t work even on level ground and the van pulled to the left.  They agreed to sort the problems while we waited – again!  So finally, just after 4.00 pm we set off!  Our destination for the first night was to have been the town of Akaroa on Banks Peninsular, about 90 mins from the depot but in the event we didn’t go quite so far, and parked up on the verge between the road and the beach at Wainui on the opposite side of the bay to Akaroa. It was a lovely spot for our first night ever in a campervan (and Louise’s favourite).

We made our way down the east coast visiting and or stopping at towns of interest, such as Timaru, Dunedin and Invercargill.  Throughout this though the weather wasn’t brilliant with at least one night of torrential rain.

Having reached the southern-most tip of the South Island, we turned north to Te Anau and pre-booked a boat trip on the fjord at Milford Sound, then parked up overnight in the last permitted campsite on the way.  (Camping is strictly controlled in this highly guarded ecological area.)  This Department of Conservation site was beside a lake and fortunately we arrived early so there were only a couple of other vehicles already there, and we were able to park our huge van in a good spot.  By evening, the place was packed with cars and vans and more were coming in to have a look, and driving off again disappointed to find no space at the inn.

We were up very early in the morning for the spectacular one-hour drive up to the tunnel and the pass through the mountain ridge, and down the other side to the Milford Sound cruise quays.  The only other thing at Milford Sound is a hotel, staff quarters and a pay-to-stay private campsite which was fully booked when we had asked.

The rain of the previous day had passed and we had a warm and sunny cruise out to the fjord entrance which was great:  we saw seals basking in the sun on the rocks and were again joined by dolphins swimming beside the boat.  We had also paid for a visit to the underwater viewing pod, which was very interesting but just a little disappointing, as we didn’t see any of the large fish, including sharks, which are said to sometimes swim past.

We retraced our steps to Te Anau and thus to Queenstown.  When we arrived there, the weather improved markedly, and we were able to have drinks outside at our overnight stop at Wanaka with a magnificent view of the lake.  We walked up close to Fox Glacier but decided the cost of a guided tour on the ice itself was not good value for money for us.  But Alex had a plan!! And the next morning we drove to a campsite north of the Franz Joseph glacier, which was shared with a helicopter over-flight outfit.  The 4-person helicopter was just taking off on a trip as we arrived, but the ground staff said we could have an 18-minute trip when it got back.  But as it happened, another couple arrived just after us and also wanted a trip.  We left them to discuss.  Shortly after that, Alex got into conversation with the organiser who said the second couple wanted a longer trip than us, and could we come to an arrangement?  So we ended up with a half hour trip with the other couple for a lot less than they were paying!  And it was worth it too.  Quite spectacular and arguably the most impressive bit of the whole holiday.

Our next night was spent in another Department of Conservation campsite which was, for Alex, quite the best we had stayed in so far.  It was about 3kms off the main road down a dirt track with the parking places spread out between bushes and trees.  And, best of all, a lovely stream running beside the site  with permission to pan for gold in it if you wanted (provided you didn’t use any mechanical devices).  There was a father with his 10 year old son already trying when we arrived so Alex asked him how you actually did it.  The father told Alex that his son was terribly excited as they had already recovered 3 slivers of gold.  (Not enough to buy a cup of coffee, the father assured us, but something, none the less.)  Alex was stripping down to his shorts and grabbing the frying pan and a bucket before you could blink!

However, what he failed to do was to cover himself in anti-sand-fly spray. Within minutes of trying to pan, his legs were covered in sand flies, then in blood from all the punctures left by the little devils.  He suffered on for a bit, but had to give up in the end and felt it was too much to spray up and try again: but for all that, it was a good laugh, in lovely weather.

Next day we dropped the van off at the depot and made our way back to Ghazi and Rebecca’s house for the next couple of nights.  But between those nights we had booked the Trans Alpine train from Christchurch to Greymouth and back over Arthur’s Pass.  When we got on the train we were a bit disappointed to learn that the tunnel at Arthur’s Pass was no longer allowing passengers to be taken through (something to do with health and safety – pah!).  Instead we would all have to disembark and travel the 15kms by bus.  But in practice this was a very good thing, because instead of 10 minutes in a tunnel in the dark on the train, we got a 20-minute ride over the top, with a running commentary from the driver, complete with the usual feeble jokes, but amid glorious scenery.  Despite the fact that the journey both ways took the whole day, we weren’t bored at all.  The track itself and the scenery were just so amazing.

During the day before our flight to Sydney we managed a couple of hours in Christchurch city centre.  This was a very sad experience, because what looked literally like a bombsite had been in fact the epicentre of the 2011 earthquake.  The city was in ruins: most damaged buildings had been torn down already, leaving huge gaps in the cityscape, but the cathedral, subject of great discussion as to whether to demolish or repair, was still standing, propped up with huge girders: a sorry sight indeed. 

We arrived in Sydney for our 4 night stay and look around, taking in a ferry trip to Manley, the usual open top bus tour around the city and out to Bondi beach, and another ferry trip to Cockatoo Island, which has been many things in its existence, including a prison, a girls’ school, a naval dockyard and now is an open museum and organised camping and glamping ground.

Then on to Melbourne by air, where, after a night’s stay, we picked up our hire car to drive the Great Ocean Road to Adelaide.  Of course, we happened to be in Melbourne on the weekend of the Grand Prix so the place was packed, but we managed to avoid the worst of the crowds and traffic and the F1 cars, and made our way to the outskirts and the road to Apollo Bay, our first stop.  But as usual we took the ‘long’ way to get there by driving to the opposite side of the huge sea lake where Melbourne is situated.  Apollo Bay itself and the surrounding area has lots to see including the lighthouse at Cape Otway and The Twelve Apostles or is only Eleven now? and ‘London Bridge’ (half of which has fallen down) – all rather spectacular sea stacks.  So we arrived in Portland a bit later than we had intended and after an abortive search for somewhere to eat, we bought a cheap microwave meal, and regretted it!!

But actually in the sunny light of the next morning, we discovered that Portland was a lovely place and there were places to eat, though much further away than we had walked the night before.  It had a great harbour, vibrant commercial shipping docks, an old tram and several other noteworthy objects of interest.  We discovered at the Tourist Information Office that we were about to cross from Victoria into South Australia and that we would not be allowed to carry certain foodstuffs across the ‘border’.  Fines are heavy and the rules strictly enforced.  We reviewed our stocks – tomatoes, asparagus, mushrooms, plus butter and garlic.  Well, we couldn’t throw all that away could we? And the Tourist Information Office had pointed out the free-to-use electric barbecues in the park.  So we turned one on and barbied the whole lot on skewers and very good it was too, if a bit eccentric.  (Louise was a bit sceptical at first, but Alex persisted that it would be great – and it was!)

We left Portland and dipped off the road to see a ‘petrified forest’ and yet another spectacular viewpoint but wanted to arrive early at our next overnight stop, because after booking in haste we had noticed that some of the reviews were terrible: “lakeside location spectacular, shame about the room” etc.  They were right but we decided to make the best of it and stay anyway.  We did a drive round the lake, crossed by the free ferry where we had an interesting chat with the ferryman and took pictures of pelicans on posts. Then back to the motel where we watched the sun set over the lake through our window, and ate in the town hotel. In the morning we were greeted by several pelicans swimming not 10 feet away past our window. So it was a great setting – the best in fact of any of the motels we stayed in, but the room itself, and particularly the bed, was a disgrace. (Warning to self – always read the reviews carefully before booking!!)

We diverted from the direct main road to Adelaide to go south to the ferry terminal for Kangaroo Island.  The landscape was interesting and involved another free ferry crossing over the Murray river, but the township at the terminal was forgettable so we hightailed it to Adelaide where we were staying at the Oaks Plaza Pier hotel at Glenelg – very smart – and for some reason they upgraded us to a suite with balcony.

Next morning, with a crack of dawn start we drove to the airport, dropped the car off and caught the 6.30am flight to Perth.  Three and a half hours later we landed at local time 7.30 am in a thunderstorm (rain god Alex again) and Alex’s daughter Alice was waiting to pick us up.

We had a lovely three days with Alice, Mark and Bea in Perth, trying not to do too much as by this time we had reached the stage of longing to get home, but had the horror of the 26 hours of flights and airports ahead of us.

So we visited the harbour, the old town of Fremantle, the wildlife park, had a really good sushi lunch courtesy of Alice (thanks Alice for proving that sushi can be delicious) and took a quick train trip into Perth town centre plus an obligatory ferry ride over to the north side.

Finally we caught the flight back to Adelaide, spent the night once again in the Oaks Plaza hotel, spent the following day looking around Adelaide and then started the dreaded return flights in the late evening.

We both picked up colds on the aeroplane and arrived back in the UK, at Birmingham airport, pretty knackered. Alex’s son Will was there to take us back to his and Laura’s house for lunch and later supper, but again we managed to avoid too much jet lag by waiting till around 9.00pm before collapsing into bed.

It has been a fascinating and memorable trip but we both agree, if there is to be a next time, it will have to be by boat!!!  (Not Riccall!!!)