#31 - Glamping, Camping, and Tramping up the West Coast of New Zealand

Okay, we did not camp, or even glamp ( the contraction for 'glamour camping' ), but we are doing a bit of tramping as we head out from Queenstown, north on the west coast to explore the real New Zealand. 

Like everything else, the words here are a bit different and so, for instance, when someone says they are going to walk through the bush..???? Well, I kind of pictured rather wild, scrubby, out there kind of landscape, when what they really mean is walking through a forest or even park like setting. 

So tramping....well it is not quite the picture of a 1930's railroad hopping hobo but rather a walk, or hike or even a multi-day trek. Of the three, we have been doing a bit of tramping but here in NZ, all three are the high on the list of leisure activities.

The drive from Queenstown to our first night stop was clocked on google at four and a half hours driving time. Add an hour for the fact that it is all winding, one lane roads where you frequently get stuck behind a camper van or a slow poke who doesn't politely pull over at the next available spot to let you pass, and, factor in a LOT of
one lane bridges, some so long that they require up to two places to pass in the middle!

 

( >>>> Look at the road sign...I drive on the left, so I have the RED arrow, which means I yield to the other direction...who invented this system????  <<<  Steve )

And though we were forewarned by our Milford Sound guide, Jacqui, it was still a surprise and a bit unnerving to come to the one lane bridge that you, get ready for this, ......that share with a TRAIN!!! 

          HARD TO BELIEVE >>>>> 

Our first stop was Wanaka, about an hour and a half into the day, for a stroll around, a view of the lake and beach and a super breakfast at the Federal Diner, a real locals place where the cheese scones are so good, they run out by 11am....good thing we arrived by 10:30. I ordered my scone with a few sides - one poached egg, a sliced avocado and a some grilled haloumi, a perfect not too big portion to get us through to dinner. Steve, of course, went traditional with eggs and more of the 'streaky' bacon they love. There was a bit of window stopping and shopping but no packages for the car...again because a really plain little tee shirt was $300 but not because there weren't some lovely, local shops. 

On the road again trying to get some kilometers under our tires to arrive at our destination, Franz Josef, the town named after the famous resident glacier. The west coast of NZ has two big glaciers that are growing smaller each year,and, like cruising Alaska, the sooner you get there the better, before they disappear. We decided to see Franz Josef, as opposed to Fox, simply because it was only 25 kilometers further and had a much larger town with better accommodations. 

We arrived by 5ish after an eight hour day on the road, a bit tired and not pleased with the gray skies and drizzle. Now the last time we traveled far out of way to see a spectacular bit of nature, was in Croatia...Plitvice Lakes in 2013. A long drive to a semi-gross cabin/motel room in the freezing cold rain, which was so heavy that we never even got to go to the lakes. Now here we are in Framz Josef thinking, is this Groundhog Day?

We took a pre-dinner walk, which was really a tour of seeing backpackers and campers and Asian tour groups**, and had dinner in what was purported to the new upmarket Asian pub (decent duck buns and pad Thai, but not up market). The dinner discussion was crucial as it involved the BIG decision of how to see the glacier. 

The local indigenous Maori people own the guiding company that does the tours. While I don't think they own the glacier land, they do somehow have the rights to all the touring. You can do any of the following:

•-a self guided walk starting from the parking lot and walking half an hour to what is called the terminal face of the glacier. Basically you can look up and see it.

•- a guided walk starting from the parking lot and lasting a total of three hours where you do almost the same walk with commentary but get a little closer to the ice

•- a heli-hike where you take a five minute helicopter ride and land on the glacier and hike on the ice for three hours

•- and lastly an expert ice climb - clearly not a choice for us

So, we had a long discussion that went something like this :

"I'm really not sure about the heli-hike because first of all, that one helicopter crashed five weeks ago and everyone was killed and also I am not sure I feel comfortable hiking on the ice and falling on my leg" -- Marci

"I totally agree it is not the best thing, these helicopters are not that safe over these glaciers, the weather changes so quickly and our weather doesn't look great" -- Steve

"OK, helicopters out, walk is in. Do you really want to spend three hours to see the glacier or would you rather do it on our own for free?" -- Marci

"Definitely let's just do the self guided; all set then" -- Steve

Fast forward to Saturday morning, wake, pack, check out of our not-so-hot room which cost almost the exact same as our spacious, beautiful five star place in Queenstown, but they do have you captive in Franz Josef.  Head to the patisserie for coffee and a bite. On our way into the bakery, a guy approaches us and asks if we would like to see the glacier in a helicopter...he's got a heli going out with only two passengers and he'd take us for half price. It is a 35 minute fly over to Mt. Cook and the glacier, an ice landing on the mountain and back down the valley.  

It takes us about three minutes over coffee to decide to go....to totally throw all of our logic out the window and hop in a helicopter with a total stranger who has a heli ride business in Franz Josef, not one we vetted for even one minute. Although the rate was attractive, I guess the real reason we went for it was it seemed like karma that we were walking there at that moment, the weather was blue skies clear and it was just the heli ride, no ice hiking.  Guess sometimes it just doesn't matter how much planning or logic you go through, you just fling it out the window and go for it.

There were six of us in the helicopter with our pilot Dion. It wasn't scary at all. It was just like being in a James Bond movie, flying up the glacier and over snowy mountains, through the clouds, to almost 10,000 feet, to the highest peak in New Zealand. Flying over the glacier and looking down into the blue ice crevasses was awesome.

We landed on a small flat snowfield about 9,000 ft. and hopped out.  The ice was surprisingly giving since it is getting into the warmer summer and with the sun shining, it wasn't even cold. You totally expected to see the bad guys with crazy weapons coming skiing over the ridge hunting for Bond.

On the return, Steve and I got to sit in the front with Dion and as we swooped down through the valley, traversing the sides of the green mountain at 150 miles per hour, tilting back and forth.

We were so glad we threw caution to the wind and got to see this from the air. We realized that had we only done the walk, we probably would have been sorry we drove so far to see a piece of glacier from far away. Guess you've gotta take a chance sometime.

After that amazing ride, we were done with Franz Josef and headed up the coast for a lunch stop in Hokitika, a cute beachy town advertised as artsy but in reality with only poor to middling galleries, but a nice sunny outdoor table for a bite.

Steve went for his typical Fish and Chips but I had a very yummy Brie and spinach sandwich, not on bread or bagel or croissant, but sandwiched between two scrumptious scallion corn fritters. 

Another hour on the road brought us to The Pancake Rocks. More tour buses and camper vans parked in what turned out to be a pretty big parking lot. Somehow we were expecting a simple sign and turn off to view some big rocks on the water that kind of looked like pancakes, kind of like when you see those stacked rocks that people make on the beach.

Instead there was a nice 15 minute walking path, winding with views to see these enormous rocks that looked like flat slabs stacked high in giant formations where the wild crashing waves churned through. Although the weather was not quite rough enough for the blowholes to blow, it was quite powerful. Again, Mother Nature at work.

We had about one more hour of up and down, winding in and out, road to get to our hotel in Westport, really a coal mining town, just a convenient place to sleep. Now, we have never seen a pretty coal town ( think Scranton, PA ) but lucky for us, we had booked into a small place in Carters Beach, right outside of Westport and on the ocean. We pulled up and like everything else in New Zealand, it was immaculate. It was new and clean, not luxurious but tidy and thoughtful. Our little patio had the perfect table for cocktail hour among the flower beds before we took the owners recommendation for dinner...at the only restaurant on the Carter Beach Road. 

                                                               

On the way to dinner, we stopped at Seal Colony, just a large rock outcropping in the ocean, home to seals. Kudos to the NZ Department of Conservation for how well they create and care for all the nature here. The well marked and stoned path lead to the sea, only a 7-8 minute walk from the lot, which had plenty of spaces marked for tour buses but at 7 pm was ours alone. When we got to the viewing platform, we could smell the seals even before we saw them. At first we saw one or two, but once your eyes got used to picking out the brown seals on the brown rocks, there were dozens.

Instead of being noisy like those California sea lions, they were quiet. Some were lazing, some playing, some boinking noses, some flapping in the water. But the most interesting part was seeing the babies nursing. We had no idea that November was when they birth and these baby seals were right up against Mom having dinner. 

And so it was also our time to eat. Expecting maybe a pub with pedestrian offerings, we arrived at BayHouse, right on the water. We were surprised to even see other cars it was so remote. We shared a bowl of delicious seafood chowder, chock full of fish, salmon, scallop, shrimp and a big green lipped mussel, a tender lamb fillet with great veggies and a sun dried tomato-anchovy pancake, and a banana tarte tartan.

And all this with a glass of Pinot Noir and a local beer for a whooping $84 NZD ( about $58 U.S.) including tax and tip...oh yeah, there really is NO tipping in NZ.  But more than the value, it is the surprise of coming upon something so great and unexpected in a small place in the middle of nowhere. 

I can't conclude this blog without again saying how beautiful this country is. The scenery is mesmerizing, sometimes a bit too much for the driver! But on that count Steve has done an amazing job and believe me it is not easy to head into a one lane bridge knowing a train may be coming! He has been a total champ....he has no choice because I refuse to drive here.

Tomorrow we are on the road again. It's a bit tough doing one nighters in a row, no unpacking, not too much relaxing and a lot of car time...good thing Steve thought to bring ONE music disc for the car. There's not a lot of radio in them thar mountains.

**OK, now you never know who is reading your blog and I would like to stay PC but I cannot get through this trip without commenting on the other tourists we see. Sure there are Aussies and Kiwis seeing their own part of the world. There are young Americans and Canadians here on work visas for a year. There are Germans in camper vans for sure. But 90% of the tourists are large groups of Chinese ( some Japanese ) on buses - an amazing number of these tours. And every group seems the same. They travel on big buses, run from one attraction to another, never dress well, never go to the nice restaurants, always buy cheap souvenirs, seem to live only to take five hundred photos and NEVER talk to anyone....sometimes it seems they hardly even talk among themselves...except that when they do, and it sounds loud and harsh and angry. Yes, I know that is what their language sounds like, but don't they hear how other people speak and don't sound like they are pissed off? And how can you want to go to another country so different than your own and never interact with the people there? It seems to me they travel the most and yet miss the entire point of it. We don't get it, but it doesn't matter because they never even smile or say hi.