The Wild West Coast

Under a still pretty grey and dreary sky, we left Greymouth towards the Hokitika Gorge, where we would have our first encounter with the turquiose blue glacier water coming down from the Alps. After a short stroll through the beautiful gorge we had another encounter with a quantity of sandflies and I think it is appropriate to stand still a few minutes with these small insects.

The New Zealand sandfly or also black fly, is a species from the Austrosimulium genus flying, biting, blood-sucking Dipteran encountered in sandy areas. According to Maori legend, their Gods created Fiordland in the South Island, and it was so beautiful, so beautiful that people stopped working to gaze at the landscape, this made their Gods very angry so they sent them sandflies to bite so they would start working again. The female sandfly require blood protein to produce their eggs and while they bite inject a little anticoagulant to keep the blood flowing but which at the same time gives an itchy reaction on the skin. There is several factors that impact the tourist experience such as the quantity, aggressiveness (from a sporadic bite to flocks of stinging creatures not repelled by the most intense DEET repellant) and your defenses and protection. With a relatively low concentration, moderately aggressive specimens, long trousers and a book in one hand, the other hand free to kill one now and then, it is bearable. With hordes of the aggressive repellant-ignoring sort, in swimming pants, coffee pot in one hand, first fresh hot brew of the day in the other hand and completely defenseless, you can only shout a the fucking little buggers and weep. The second experience is the more common in the wet South West of New Zealand, but anyway, I will get over it.

Empezamos a recorrer la costa Oeste de la Isla Sur, aun con cielo gris y pequenas lloviznas, de esas que no mojan, pero joden... decidimos parar en una de las playas en el camino llamada "Neils Beach"donde para mi tuvimos una de las mejores experiencias y una de las mas terribles. Empezaremos por la terrible, apenas llegamos, empezamos a caminar por toda la orilla de la playa, no habia gente, solo una pareja de adultos mayores que se banaban en el mar... cuando de pronto nos dimos cuenta que no andabamos solos, estabamos rodeados y nos perseguian, lo que para mi son lo peor de NZ, los dichosos SANDFLIES. Son unos mosquitos diminutos que por lo general estan en zonas donde hay arena, y te pican sin piedad dejandote ronchas que el escozor nos ha llegado a durar hasta 1 semana. Hay algunos que se creen vampiros, pues al "picarte" por no decir morderte, te dejan la roncha y un rastro de sangre encima. Batallamos con los sandflies en toda la caminata por la orilla, hasta que nos percatamos de que en el mar muy cerca de la orilla habian varios delfines. Johan regreso corriendo al estacionamiento para buscar los trajes de bano, ni que decir lo que fue ponernos los traje de bano en la playa, fue como hacer marabares para cambiarte rapido y a la vez espantar a los mosquito/vampiro para que no te piquen mas de la cuenta. 

Entramos al mar (frio y con algunas olas) pero con la esperanza de ver al menos un delfin nadando al menos cerca de nosotros. Johan me sostenia en su espalda, ya que las olas eran algunas bastante altas y tenia miedo de acabar como pulga de mar enterrad en la arena... De pronto, no podiamos creer lo que estabamos viendo, no eran 1 ni 2, eran como 5 o 7 delfines que se acercaban (de puros curiosos que son) y nadaban alrededor de nosotros, surfeaban las olas (buscando peces) a menos de 1 metro de nosotros, algunos parecian a veces que venian nadando directo hacia nosotros, pero luego se desviaban y no nos topaban, pero pasaban cerquisima nuestro, estuvimos en el agua por lo menos 30 minutos nadando y saltando las olas con los delfines, fue maravilloso, una experiencia que sin duda, nunca olvidare. (Lamentablemente no pudimos capturar ninguna foto de ambos en el mar junto a los delfines, pero si tenemos una en esa playa mientras caminamos por la orilla escapando de los sandflies). 

Ross, an old west coast gold mining town was an interesting experience, from the historic walk along ramps, machinery, water ducts and houses, to the old again tragedy stricken cemetery full of from Cty Tipperaries, from Cty Galways, from Cty. Donnegals, etc to the historical tavern, which apart from the beer barrels can not have changed much over the last 150 years. We had an interesting chat with the locals who are still active, though not at a fully professional base, in gold panning and from time to time a decent sized nugget is found. Once the first suspicions that we were semi-professional gold washers were washed away with the Red Lion from the tap, we got a few tips and tricks on when and where best to look and what to do "to get color", an indication there is gold around. Another interesting note is that, because of the large amounts of water needed for the 1860s mining methodologies and technology in terms of pumps and ducts is not what it is today, some businessmen dedicated themselves to selling water to the gold miners and it is generally reckoned, that more money was made selling water than digging gold. At the stage, still in the bar, where we would hear that "there is gold where it is found" with eyes full of conspiracy and drunkness, we decided it was time to get in our van and sleep surrounded by cracking wood of the old buildings and many an Irish gold miner's ghost.

Otro lindo sitio que recuerdo, fue Hokitika... un canon por donde pasaba un rio con agua de glaciar, y se formaban piscinas de agua color turqueza, impresionante el paisaje. Pasamos por un pueblo llamado Ross, era un antiguo pueblo minero donde extraian principalmente oro. Hicimos una caminata al lado de un rio, donde antes funcionaba una antigua mina de oro. Despues de la caminata por el pueblo minero, decidimos parar en el antiguo Gran Hotel del pueblo, actualmente es el bar de los lugarenos, donde disfrutamos de un par de cervezas locales y unos ricos Fish&Chips! 

The South Island's 2 most famous glaciers, were not to be missed so we got on the busy walking trails for relatively close up sighting. More impressive though were the markers where the glaciers had been through time and the massive speed and volume of their retreat. Even more impressive was the sighting of the glaciers from a remote beach, on a beautiful day, with a glass of wine and dolphins swimming in front of us. There we could really appreciate the wildness and grandeur of the New Zealand Alps, although relatively low compared to Europes Alps and certainly the Andes, there is the unique features such as glaciers a few km from the ocean and a altitudes below 500m.

Tuvimos dos dias de caminatas a los dos Glaciares mas famosos de la zona: Franz Joseph y Fox. Conseguimos estar a 700 y 300 mts de distancia de cada uno respectivamente, considero que no obteniamos la mejor vista de los glaciares (desde la ruta se apreciaban mejor) pero la caminata valia la pena hacerla, pasabamos entre medio de bosques tropicales, atravesando rios, caminos llenos de piedras naranjas y verdes, cascadas por todo el camino que alimentaban el rio, era una vista realmente magica (aun en dia nublado y con lluvia). Finalizamos el dia, despues de haber caminado bajo la lluvia y con frio... en unas termas donde relajamos los musculos y calentamos los cuerpitos... preparandonos para nuestra ultima aventura en la costa Oeste: Caminata por el Valle Copeland.

La caminata por el Valle Copeland, seria una caminata "moderada" sin mucha altura (segun Johan) pero por dia debiamos caminar 18km. Nunca en mi vida habia caminado tanto en un dia, pero lo logre. Claramente con descansos, algunos breaks para tomar energia e hidratarnos y continuar por el sendero. Nos toco ver paisajes increibles, caminamos en su mayoria bordeando rios de agua color turqueza, nos toco trepar un par rocas donde necesariamente habia que usar rodillas y manos... pero todo bien. Yo habia leido que en los 18km de camino cruzariamos 9 puentes, ese era mi referente para saber mas o menos, cuanto faltaba para llegar. Los primeros puentes que cruzaban siempre rios, eran seguros, con barandas de madera y soportaban hasta 5 personas  a la vez.

Then we headed to the Copland track, a 1-day-up-1-day-down hike, towards a hut in the mountains with natural hot springs outside. Getting at the car park and out of the car we were immediately attacked by hordes of sandflies of the worst kind. We had to finish packing our bags under the pressure of continuous bites making sure we didn't forget anything. Once in the woods though the sandflies were substituted for virgin forests, wild flowing glacial rivers and first glimpses of the Alps. A sturdy walk, crossing challenging bridges and some root and rock scrambling took us to the hut where we had a extremely hot bath beneath the stars. Here I must congratulate Belen for the endurance and successfully completed challenges, long distances over difficult terrain and the bridges. Well done!

El problema fue cuando llegamos a la mitad del camino (el 5to puente recuerdo muy bien), yo no lo podia creer, pense que era broma, era un puente de alambritos, colgante (nada firme) que con el viento se movia de un lado a otro cual papel, laaargo como una via de tren, y estrecho pues con las justas entraban tus dos pies juntos, y lo peor, carteles por todos lados donde te indicaban que el puente aguantaba solo 1 persona por vez. El primero en cruzar fue Johan, vi como se iba balanceando de un lado  a otro, a mi ya me sudaban las manos sin haber empezado a poner un pie encima del puente... una vez que Johan llego al otro lado, empezo mi sufrimiento.

**Como antecedente, yo desde chica he sufrido de vertigo, le tengo terror a las alturas, y cuando me veo en una situacion donde hay posibilidad de deslizamiento o caminos con precipicio, me da lo que con Johan le llamamos "EL GATO" (Me quedo paralizada, no puedo dar un paso ni adelante ni para atraz, mis piernas se ponen duras y tensas cual fierro, las manos me sudan y lo unico que quiero es llorar).

Exhausted we arrived to sleep at Haast, a remote corner squeezed in between Firodland, the Southland and the Southern Alps. Before crossing the Alps again, we took a small country road that would take us a little while down the coast but off the main road. The road was interrupted due to a mud slide so we went for a short walk on Neil's beach. I won't spill any other word on sandflies but I will do on the Hector's Dolphins, the rare New Zealand Dolphins. Belen saw their fins and after a retired couple got into the water, we decided to follow them. The waves were considerably high, but again the curiosity of the Dolphins, the very close encounters and their magnificent and elegant surfing in the waves made it an incredible experience.

Pues empiezo a cruzar el puente, intentando no mirar hacia abajo, pero sin mucho resultado ya que constantemente bajaba la mirada y miraba a traves de los alambres que sujetaban mis pies... el rio caudaloso 7 mts abajo. Cruzarlo se me hizo eterno, a la mitad del camino me dio EL GATO, me quede cual estatua que no me pude mover por 3 minutos, hasta que reanude los pasos... y logre llegar al otro lado del puente. El ultimo puente (el 9no) fue del mismo estilo, pero ya lo pase con un poco mas de confianza, y haciendome que no estaba nerviosa, ya que tenia gente detras, esperando que yo termine de cruzar, y mas gente al final del camino mirando... asi que no podia permitir que vieran AL GATO en escena, me arme de valor, me encomende a Dios, los santos y Los Angeles y cruce (con las manos sudando pero con una sonrisa en la cara). 

Cruzando los Alpes - Arthur Pass

From one of the most Eastern points of NZ (Peninsula Banks and Akaroa) we were then bound west, with a big obstacle and one of NZs mayor features in between....the Alps. Our first few kms west, we did walking on an old rail trail, converted in cycle and walking trail, still on the Peninsula, through wetlands with a scorching heat and no shade. These old railway tracks are part of the industrial heritage of NZ and a testimony on how the country and its people were formed. The rails would usually substitute more difficult ways of getting cattle, sheep and timber out and would also unlock previously very isolated communities.

Salimos de Peninsula Banks, con direccion al paso Arthur Pass para cruzar los Alpes y finalmente llegar a la zona Oeste de la Isla Sur. Primero nos aventuramos con una caminata de 10 km por una antigua ruta de un tren, que actualmente es usada como ciclovia y para trecking. Fue bastante desihadrante ya que teniamos el sol en la cabeza y la sensacion termica era de 34 grados, humedo y sin un arbol que nos de sombra. Aun asi, disfrutamos del paisaje pasando por campos con ovejas, cantidad de aves, cisnes... llegando al final de la caminata paramos en el unico cafe/restaurante que habia para refrescarnos con una cerveza helada como premio. Otro tema fue la regresada, ya que ni pensarlo ibamos a regresar nuevamente los 8km, muertios de calor al punto de inicio donde nos esperaba el auto, por lo que tiramos dedo en la ruta y al cabo de 15 minutos un buen hombre se apiado de nosotros y nos llevo de regreso a nuestro estacionamiento. 

The next stop would be Springfield, were to honour the Simpsons, was a statue of a giant donut, but apart from a nice and easy drive through the Canterbury plains, not much else worth looking at so we continued for our first approach to the Alps. Speleology is limited for me to a few underground rock formations on guided tours in Belgium and France, usually with a heap of other tourists and ending with a boat ride on the underground river. New Zealand is full of caves which offer similar type of experiences but also the independent exploration ranging from short underground walks to nearly professional speleology. We took on the challenge in an underground walk through an underground stream, upstream, entering a hole in the wall and daylighting again 600m or 1 hour later. The description of the tour on one of the explanatory signs, apart from safety warnings, was of "dark, cold and wet" so Belen needed some convincing, but eventually we ventured underground. It was a fantastic experience of scrambling and walking through rocks and a small river, pitch-black when turning of the torches and with sounds of small rapids and cascades further upstream, that while heard but not yet seen, would take on enormous proportions in our imagination. As a rather experienced adventurer and adrenaline addict, I couldn't help take a breath of relief of the oxygen rich unconfined surface air.

Continuamos camino hacia Arthur pass, pero paramos en un punto de atraccion turistica donde decenas de autos paraban. Eran las Cavernas de agua que Johan ya me habia comentado. Nos bajamos a ver de que se trataba, y lo primero que leo en el cartel informativo era: Oscuro, Frio y Mojado... preparate! Lo primero que pense fue: ok, esto no es para mi, era una manana nublada con un poco de viento, y lo ultimo que queria era meterme en una caverna oscura donde me iba mojar y pasar frio. Despues de la insistencia del chiwawin a que lo acompane, pense en la diferencia que hay entre los viajeros (aquellos que viajan e incorporan en su dia a dia costumbres de la zona, se involucran en todo lo que puedan y estan dispuestos a probar y disfrutar de todas las actividades y nuevas experiencias) y los turistas (aquellos que solo visitan las zonas mas turisticas, en su mayoria llevados por un guia, con un programa turistico impuesto, y que rara vez hacen actividades que signifiquen esfuerzo alguno, mas que sacar el selfie stick y posar para la foto... en su mayoria, son chinos o japoneses que hacen este tipo de turismo) y yo no queria ser un turista chinito mas, asi que me arme de valor, me puse la ropa adecuada, busque mi linterna y nos aventuramos juntos en atravesar esa caverna de agua. 

En el interior de la caverna era oscuro como la boca de un lobo, el agua helada, menos mal que algunas partes donde el agua era muy profunda, Johan me daba una ayudita para cruzar, de lo contrario hubiese quedado mojada no solo hasta la cintura, sino de pies a cabeza. Tuvimos que caminar esquivando rocas, trepando muros, atravesando y subiendo por pequenas cascadas dentro de la caverna, al final para llegar a la superficie, habia que subir una escalera anclada en una roca, donde tenias que usar tus pies y ambas manos para poder treparla y ni mirar abajo si no querias que te de vertigo. 

Towards Arthur's Pass then, one of the Alps highest passes, known for a long time by Maoris for the greenstone trade (not without casualties) and then through great effort and endurance rediscovered and mapped by European settlers. We were about to set off on some hiking but due to continuous rain, the rivers were swollen and impossible to cross safely. Taking in some of the smaller walks through the Alpine settings, we decided to wait for a few days and see if the weather would allow us to get out, which it didn't. While some beautiful campsites in the middle of nature's grandeur compensated partially for the missed hikes, we will have to come back one day to get into this wild part of NZ. Little did I know then that further ahead it would be fully compensated by another Alpine National Park.

Escaping the mountain rain, we then got into the coastal rain at Greymouth. The Yellow River in China might not be yellow and Oranjestad in the Central American Dutch territories not orange, but Greymouth was definitely as grey as grey can be. Before getting into the city, we visited the Stillwater cemetery and the remains of the Brunner Coal mine. The Brunner Coal mine was one of the coal mines on the West Coast that fueled the industrialization and development of New Zealand. Labour was often brought in from the Northern English and Scottish coalfields, that were then in decline. The Brunner mine was at some stage struck by disaster when through a big coal dust explosion almost 90 people lost their lives, but coal was an important part of life and of the economy on this side of the country, the latest coal mines only closing around 2010, giving a hard blow to the local economy. We wandered around at the small and old Stillwater cemetery were there was a mass grave of a big part of the workers that died in Brunwater, but 2 other things got to my attention, and would continue to do so in the few other cemeteries we would visit on the west coast. First the high amount of Irish settlers and then the tragedy that struck all these places, explicitly mentioned on the gravestones; several individuals drowned crossing rivers, others died when landslides washed away their houses at night, 7 children died when their house was destroyed in a blaze...testimonies of a hard and difficult existence far from Home and far from the infrastructure and support of the rest of the country and colonies.

Los siguientes dias, estuvimos a la espera de que mejore el clima para poder hacer una caminata, pero no fue posible ya que continuaron las lluvias y era un poco peligroso hacer la caminata con lluvia ya que los rios que debiamos cruzar crecian y no era recomendable cruzarlos en ese estado. Por lo que hicimos pequenas caminatas por el dia alrededor de Arthur Pass, visitamos una antigua Mina de carbon (ahora ya ruinas) que en su momento (1860) era el gran soporte economico para el pueblo pero que despues cerro algunos anos despues de una explocion por gases de carbon que dejo varios muertos y familias destruidas. 

Pasamos por Greymouth, continuabamos con los dias nublados, aun asi decidimos hacer una caminata de 5km donde llegabamos a un lookout desde donde veias toda la costa, a los 10 minutos de andar caminando, empieza una lluvia y tormenta, que terminamos empapados hasta los calzones y calcetines... igual hicimos la caminata... total, ya estabamos mojados... y lo unico que nos quedaba era disfrutar de una tarde de lluvia. 

Peninsula Banks, a volcano in the ocean

Cansados un poco de los dias nublados y lluviosos (al menos yo), nos dirigimos hacia Peninsula Banks en busca de un mejor clima. 

Llegamos a Okains Bay, un camping espectacular en medio del bosque, con accesso directo a la playa, todas las comodidades como cocina grande, banos con ducha caliente, mesas para picnic, y espacio suficiente como para que entre mucha gente, pero sin sentirse todos apretados. Tomamos un spot a 5 metros de la playa, disfrutamos del sol, nos relajamos, leimos, jugamos telefunke (juego de cartas que nos acomapana a todos lados), nos banamos en el mar (frio es poco, pero el sol estaba que nos convertia en brasa, asi que un chapuzon frio, nos venia bien de rato en rato). 

The Banks Peninsula is an extinct cone volcano a few km out in the sea. The gap between the volcano and the mainland filled up with gravel over millions of years and the crater eroded on one side and filled with seawater. We stayed in one of the beautiful bays on a spectacular camp spot, with the beach only meters away and the sound of the waves accompanying us during night time. We had a few very relaxed days of reading, swimming, walking a bit and enjoying the beach with an exceptional spell of very hot weather. With a few musselbanks accesible at low tide, we got our daily quota and then I tried to remember my Grandma cooking them. With a dip made by Belen, we had our own harvested mussels on the beachfront. Also during a nightly fishing trip for flounder and sole, wading knee deep through the calm waters with a spear looking for the shape of the flatfish on the bottom, I had an encounter with a big eel, which I followed for several minutes, counterbalancing the good opportunity for catching an eel with being ignorant in how to clean and prepare them and considering it would be too much fish for both of us, I finally decided to just observe this strange creature until it took notice of me and disappeared in the sea.

Una de las actividades que mejor recuerdo, es cuando acompane a Johan a marisquear choros a una punta de la bahia, esperamos a que baje un poco la marea y a eso de las 6 de la tarde trepamos rocas, y nos situamos en puntos estrategicos para la azana. Johan abajo sacando choros de las rocas cuidando que no venga una ola y lo deje estampado contra una de ellas, yo arriba recibia los choros en una batea con agua, donde los lavaba y contaba para no pasarnos la cantidad permitida por dia (50 choros).  Fueron dos noches que nos dimos un festin de choros hervidos con una salsa tartara que improvise, quedaron para chuparse los dedos!              

    

After three relaxing days, we left this camping spot and drove all around the rim of the crater with breathtaking views in 360 degrees on the ocean and the peninsula to get to Akaroa. Akaroa seems a French village, with french street names and restaurants, and is a reminder that New Zealand was at the verge of being a French Colony, with many French settlers, and to be claimed for the french Crown and that just days or weeks before the Treaty of Waitangi was signed between the British Empire and the Maori chiefs, definitely giving New Zealand an Anglosaxon destiny. Wouldn't it be amazing being able to rewind time and shuffle a bit and see what Nouvelle Zelande would have been? Would a country converge to being something roughly the same through its environment and surroundings or would it diverge to something completely different due to one of its initial impulses? Would gastronomy have thriven and jeux de boules replaced rugby and cricket? Anyway, Akaroa.....

Despues de Okains bay, salimos a recorrer un poco la peninsula pasando por lugares increibles con vistas espectaculares, llegamos a Akaroa, un pueblo turistico por su avistamiento de delfines, nadar con ellos, acercamiento a una colonia de pinguinos, y a veces avistamiento de Orcas en el muelle. Lo que mas queria era nadar con delfines, y tambien deseabamos ver pinginos, pero ambas actividades eran solo a traves de tours privados que el precio escapaba bastante de nuestro presupuesto, por lo que un poco resignados a no hacerlo, decidimos irnos a hacer un picnic al lado del muelle, con unos quesos y vino. Al rato despues de descansar un poco y esperar que el sol baje, decidimos salir en kayak por nuestra cuenta, empezamos a seguir a los kayak que hacian los tour, y las lanchas, y despues de un largo camino (16 km remando y con el viento en contra) ... tuvimos una de las mas lindas experiencias en el viaje, que fue ver a los delfines alrededor de nuestro kayak nadando, saltando, nos rodeaban, fue increible. Johan decidio meterse al mar, y de pronto los delfines empezaron a acercarse otra vez hacia nosotros y nadar alrededor de Johan. Despues de ver los delfines, nos quedamos quietos mirando el horizonte, y de la nada aparece frente a nosotros a menos de medio metro, un pinguino que andaba solo por ahi (parecia perdido) saco la cabecita por 10 segundos para luego volver a sumergirse y no salir mas. Esa tarde sin esperarlo pero si deseandolo mucho, vimos los delfines y pinguino que tanto queriamos! 

A veces cuando crees no poder tener algo, basta desearlo realmente de corazon para que las cosas se vayan acomodando y sucedan! Gracias Chiwawin por haberte animado a que salgamos en Kayak, y por haber remado tanto (mas que yo, claramente, porque mis brazos no tienen tanta fuerza). Gracias a la naturaleza por dejarnos disfrutar y tener estas experiencias. 

Once at Akaroa, we were welcomed by a relatively touristy town and infrastructure and a baffling sun on our head. Day dreaming with all the marine fauna to be seen around Akaroa we headed into the local tourist bureau and sat down in front of the church, trying to digest our disappointment in that all this natural beauty was only accessible through private land and by means of spectacular but overpriced tours. Once digested and seeing the calm waters we inflated our kayak and set out on the bay. After rowing for about an hour through stunning landscape but without any sight of fauna, kayaks coming back with smiling faces confirmed us there was dolphins in the bay and pointed us in the right direction. With renewed force and enthusiasm we continued rowing until a first glimpse of a black fin again renewed our energies. All of a sudden our determination, creativity and desire was rewarded in several dolphin sightings some of them coming very close to the boat. Once they were gone I decided on a refreshing dive before rowing back and floating in the water Belen started shouting "there they come, there they come", I was surprised, then scared and then heading for the boat as quick as I could, when Belen got out the camera and said "stay in the water". I was surrounded by dolphins and started calling them out by flapping and whistling in the water. Again, I was amazed by the curiosity of the animals which has something very human, it is a curiosity, combined with trust and understanding of the human being, which makes them come close being inquisitive and communicative but not intrusive. I put on my goggles and a mother with a small dolphin below her belly swim just underneath me. While all the cruises had left the bay, the sun was setting and only ourselves and the dolphins in the evening light were left, this was certainly one of the most amazing experiences of the trip. Though, determination, enthusiasm and desire were not enough to pay the price for this sighting and we had to compensate by a relatively serious dose of suffering rowing back against the wind and the waves, wondering if we would make it back to town or had to camp somewhere on the shore hoping conditions would change. The same night we sat on our campsite next to the ocean sipping a glass of wine* enjoying the experience and happy to be back on shore.

*While in NZ read a glass of wine as a plastic cup of "dry red wine" out of the box "made of the best grapes from NZ and Australia" without further specifications. In one of the wine tours we did, it appeared that due to the cost structure of the wineries in NZ, the labelled bottle often accounts for a big share of the cost and the sales price, as such, wine in boxes.