After spending the last quarter of 2009 hosting family, getting back into the work routine after a four-week holiday hiatus, and enjoying all that Summer had to offer, it is time to post again on The Starbuck Report!

I will start with a tramping excursion Rus and I completed at the beginning of February on Mt. Fyffe, the tallest summit of the Seaward Kaikouras (not to be confused with a second set that runs parallel and further inland, aptly named the Inward Kaikouras) - about 1600m (5,250 feet).  This meant that we would travel, once again, to one my favourite places in New Zealand - Kaikoura.

Since there was a popular concert happening in the area, budget rental cars were sold out across the city.  We did not want to pay for a better car when all it would do is sit in a carpark all weekend, and it looked like we might have to cancel our trip.  Thankfully, one of my workmates allowed me to borrow her SUV for the weekend.  I took the bus to her house after work on Friday, drove the car to my house, and we packed it up with the necessary gear.  Soon afterward, with the windows down and the warm sun shining, we were on our way to Kaikoura!

As I have mentioned in previous posts, the drive to Kaikoura is one of the most breathtaking one can imagine, and this time was no different.  It has been a rather wet and cool summer, so the grass on the plains was as green as green could be.  Combined with the Alps as a backdrop and the turquoise water, it was stunning!

We arrived around dinner time, set up our tent for the night at the holiday park (before nightfall), and treated ourselves to a nice dinner and wine a restaurant in town that serves local, organic food.  We enjoyed expertly-cooked pieces of quality meat (me, venison; Rus, beef fillet); we understood we would be eating far differently the following day.

After a lovely sleep in the tent, we woke up late, had a coffee and a big brekkie at a cafe, then drove to the start of the track about 20 minutes inland.  It was a perfect day - sunny, clear, and sure to be warm.  Once at the carpark, we double-checked our packs for the proper gear.  The Department of Conservation (DOC) maintains huts on tracks throughout New Zealand with bunks and basic facilities (though no shower at this one); however, because of the time of year (summer), the fine weather, and the influx of Europeans who come to New Zealand to tramp, etc., we thought it would be best to bring our tent in the event the hut was full.  It turned out to be a good move…

Ten minutes into our walk, I was wondering what we were thinking.  We started entirely too late for the weather (nearly 11:00AM), meaning that it was already warm (about 28C/ 82F), even without our 22kg (50lb) packs!  The track was steep; the terrain groomed, course gravel.  The profuse sweat started near-instantaneously.  Without much breeze coming from the Pacific (unusual for this location), it was going to be a long day.

Despite the hot (and, at times, miserable) day, the views climbing the to the summit were becoming more spectacular with each step.   After nearly four hours of steep, sweaty climbing (with plenty of short breaks in between!), we finally reached the hut.  The first thing on our minds was a well-deserved lunch of tuna (from pouches) and crackers.  Whether it was sheer hunger or not, it tasted amazing.  We met another couple who arrived before us who were curiously shaking something in peanut butter jars.  After introducing ourselves and mingling, we learned that they were making a no-bake cheesecake.  How’s that for “roughing it”?

The hut is not at the summit; the summit is another 90 minute hike to the top.  Thankfully, however, we could ditch our heavy packs and proceed with just water and poles - phew!  We took a liberal three hour break beforehand; resting, digesting, and meeting the other trampers who came up after we did.  There was Paul, a young lad from the U.K., and two members of the New Zealand Air Force who just arrived…they looked like we had a few hours previous before we dried off and had a hearty meal.  They might have been needing a good rest, but we were ready to climb to the summit!

The last 90 minutes were as tough as the first four hours, even without our packs.  Once we reached the top, though, we were treated with some truly magnificent 360 degree views.  The entire Kaikoura peninsula was in view, as well as the mountains stretching all the way to the south and north.  The ocean stretched as far as the eye could see.  The patchwork plains and rolling hills below made me feel like I was on top of the world!  We took some photos and decided it was dinnertime!

As always, the descent is far faster than the ascent; it only took us about 45 minutes to get back to the hut.  It was not easy, however, because our legs had turned to jelly. By then, it was nearly 6:00PM, we were ravenous, and I was sure we would be in bed shortly after sundown.

Once back at the hut, we cooked our dehydrated camping meals (when I say “cooked” I mean boiled some water on the camp stove, pour it into the bag with the food and let it sit for 10 minutes) and continued to get to know our fellow trampers.  The couple in the Air Force were truly set: they brought frozen (?!) pieces of steak, mashed potatoes, etc.  They also had hot chocolate and a flask of port, a popular post-tramping beverage.  Another couple, well into their 60s, arrived later.  We had seen them on the summit earlier, and they had chosen another track to hike before returning to the hut (!?).  They did more than we did on the day and did not even look tired.   It gave me inspiration for fun and fitness well into the future.  Our friend, Paul, had decided to see the sunset from the summit; he cooked his meal and headed up.    If the older couple had decided to stay in the hut, the hut’s eight beds would have been full, with one needing a place to sleep.   As it appeared the perfect weather would continue through the night, they chose to camp under the stars somewhere nearby, amazing us once again.

This left space for the remaining seven of us to sleep in the hut; however, since it was hot and tight in there, we were happy to use the tent we hauled up the mountain.  We changed our clothes, hanging them on a make-shift laundry line so they would be dry in the morning, and set up camp.  Our tent is small and light-weight mesh, with a wind- and water-proof cover. Because of the excellent weather, we opted to forgo the cover.

A few hours after dinner, the sun was beginning to set, and all of us scattered to different places catch our own views.  Once we snapped a few photos, I was certainly ready for bed - all of my muscles aching with exhaustion from the day.  But Tim and Catherine, who had made the cheesecake earlier, had different plans.  Instead of resting our tired bodies, we gathered around a few camp stoves, made hot chocolate, ate no-bake cheesecake, and shared stories and laughs.  It was one of the highlights of my day!

As the night grew darker, sleepiness overcame the conversation and camaraderie.  It was finally time to go to bed.  Rus and I tucked ourselves into our sleeping bags (which is entirely gross after a long day of sweating!).  As he drifted off, I could not peel my eyes from the clear, starry night visible through the mesh.   This, my friends, is why I do this.  Not only for the views (as spectacular as they are), not for the cool people I meet along  the way, and certainly not for the food.  It’s for the opportunity to view the night sky far from and above city lights, in all of its sparkling glory.  Despite my fatigue, my eyes could not stop scanning the sky for shooting stars and attempting to memorise every single dazzling one.  It was notable that, even atop this mountain, there was nearly no breeze - a perfect night.  I coerced myself to rest my eyes and drift to sleep.

While we were conversing the night before over n0-bake cheesecake, we all agreed to wake up for the sunrise over the Pacific.  The Air Force, Karen and Peter, were in charge of time, and their knock on the tent came too early.  While Rus was happy to snooze through the whole thing (despite my enthusiasm!), I snapped photos from the warmth of my sleeping bag through the tent’s door.  The site was different than what we were expecting: a thick blanket of clouds shrouded the peninsula and plains below.  It looked like the sun was rising from an ocean of cotton.  It was beautiful!

After a quick breakfast of hot muesli, we dismantled the tent, loaded our packs (significantly lighter after using most of the food and water - the harsh truth in the world of tramping!), and began our descent. We offered young Paul a ride back into town so he would not have to walk the long, flat 15 kilometres back to the town centre to catch his bus.  He left before we did but would catch him at the bottom.

As we caught up with the layer of clouds, and left the sunshine at the top, the weather became cool, moist, and overcast.  It only took us two hours to reach the car, and Paul was waiting patiently for us.  Once we made sure all of our gear was in the car - and the tramping boots were off - we drove back to Kaikoura for coffees and pastries.  We enjoyed chatting with Paul about his travels through India and Nepal, and his planned adventures in New Zealand.  It always impresses me to meet young adults who have done so much travelling!

Once we were finished, Paul made his way back to his backpackers hostel.  We stayed in Kaikoura for a bit, scoping out the area on the outskirts of town.  We went out to the peninsula itself and had a cray sandwich (cray = crayfish, very similar to a lobster, except with no claws) on the coast.  Unlike the weather the day before, it was chilly and breezy.

By the time lunch was over, we had had enough.  We were happily tired and in need of a shower.  After a fantastic weekend, it was finally time to drive home.

*Please visit our Flickr page to see more photos of this trip!  It’s well worth it!

*I started this post in September but am just finishing it down for posting…sue me??

Rus and I have been wanted to try snowboarding for some time.  We both enjoy downhill skiing and have dabbled in cross-country skiing, but the popularity of snowboarding has tempted us to “give it a go”, as the saying goes here.

Our new flatmate, Simon (age 28, Kiwi from Auckland), has been a couple of times and has his own gear.  He was keen to go to Mt. Hutt, the most popular and commercialised ski field in the area, about 90 minutes from Christchurch.  Winter sport lovers come from all over the world, especially Europe and Japan, during the Southern Hemisphere ski season to experience the snow and the views from the Southern Alps.

Rus and I hired (”rented”) our snowboards and boots from a shop just a stone’s throw from our house.  Once we were geared up, we were on our way to the mountain.  It was another glorious day - not a cloud in site!  We drove down a road on which we had never been on but saw more of the same flat pastures and rolling hills - and, of course, lots of sheep!  Eventually, we made our way to the access road to Mt. Hutt, and that’s where the fun really began!

Since this ski field is quite popular, the road leading to the lodge is wider (two whole lanes!) and, while still rough (as in, not paved), it was not as treacherous as the one we climbed to get to Mt. Cheeseman.  As we winded our way up the 16km road, we were treated to incredible views of the Canterbury Plains, extending all the way to the ocean to the east, the Inland Kaikouras mountain range to the north, and even more snow-covered alps to the south.  It was another one of those “don’t look down” kind of roads - no guard rails - and no chance of survival if you went over the edge.   We were well above the tree line; there were only a few rocks and chairlifts, and many little moving dots of people zig-zagging on the huge white mass in front of us.  Although I was excited to try something new, there is something uncomfortable and intimidating about going into a day where you know you are going to fail (in this case, end up on your butt) all day long.

When we finally arrived at the top, we were directed to park in an overflow lot; the mountain looked quite busy.  It was Father’s Day here (Sunday, September 6th), and we were hoping most people would be enjoying their family time elsewhere.  Regardless, we gathered up our gear and made our way to the ticket counter to purchase lift tickets.  Since we were each inexperienced snowboarders, we all decided on staying strictly on the “Magic Carpet” - the “Bunny Hill”, in other words.  There was an option to upgrade our lift tickets for a reduced price later on in the day, if we wished.  Tickets were $44 a piece just for the Magic Carpet hill - yikes!  Needless to say, we decided to forgo the $95-an-hour snowboarding lessons…

The “Magic Carpet” is actually a conveyor belt that moves people to the top of a pathetic little slope for newbies.  Today, this pathetic little slope was covered, as it usually is, with tiny, young ski proteges… a recipe for disaster considering Rus and I are quite tall and would be far from graceful on our snowboards.  Nevertheless, I strapped the snowboard to one foot and awkwardly scooted myself toward the conveyor belt.

At the “top” (about 150 metres from the bottom and at a “very scary” 15 degree angle), I plopped down on my rear end and buckled my right foot to the board.  I stood up and readied myself to go down the hill…slowly…slowly…BAM!  First fall of the day, barely one minute into it.  I fell five more times before I made it down to the bottom of that little slope.

The rest of the day was more of the same…meaning that I did, indeed, spend a lot of time on my butt.  Or the occasional direct fall on the knees, some of them nearly knocking the wind out of me.  Kids laughed at me.  I actually got laughed at by some little punk demon child.  He pointed, laughed, and said, “Daddy, that girl just FELL!”.  I retorted, “Thanks for the vote of encouragement!” and was thankful his dad was there; I just might have smacked him.  Also, because of all the people and the slow-moving conveyor belt, it was actually faster to take the board off completely and walk back up the hill (adding to the exhaustion factor).

Throughout all the falling and dodging younglings, I did manage to get the hang of it…all while sweating my you-know-what off.  It was cold (obviously - snow - hello!?), but the blazing sun meant the layers were thin and few.  By the end, I was actually enjoying myself surfing across the snow (for however short the slope was) and looking forward to the next run - which would hopefully be free of painful falls.  (Note: Some of the photos are courtesy of Simon, who had two previous snowboarding experiences under his belt and hence decided to upgrade on his lift ticket.  Rus and I, fearing certain death if in error, decided to keep on the Magic Carpet).

And even though I looked longingly at the expert skiers skillfully swishing back and forth gracefully down the steep slopes, I was happy that I took the plunge and decided to “fail” for the day.  Perhaps that, indeed, actually, was my greatest success of the day!

Throughout all of our New Zealand excursions, it has been repeatedly recommended to us to visit Abel Tasman National Park.  Situated at the top of the South Island, Abel Tasman is renowned for its golden, sandy beaches and beautiful, clear, turquoise waters.  Sea kayaking around the coves that are inaccessible by land and tramping some of the best walks in the country make this area immensely popular.

Since it is Labour Weekend (Monday, 26 October off work, yay!), we decided to hire a car and head out.  I left work at lunchtime Friday since it became clear that most potential clients had already done the same.  Rus still had to finish up work (and also had to put in a few hours today; hence, why I am able to write this from our trip!).  We packed, loaded up the car, and were on the road by nearly 5:00PM.

We thought it would be about a five hour drive and anticipated arriving around 10:00PM.  We ran into a slight delay getting out of Christchurch (read: about 10 minutes), and drove through some more beautiful country.  After about 90 minutes into the trip, we were in (for us) uncharted territory, but it was “more of the same” - more beautiful mountains, raging blue rivers, sheep country, and wet forests.

Eventually, we were getting hungry.  It was getting late, and towns were few and far between.  We stopped at a very small town cafe that was just closing for the night.  Though we were unable to eat anything, mercifully, they still let us use their toilets!  We endured until we came upon a small town called Murchinson.  This was the largest town we had seen since leaving the outskirts of Christchurch.  There was even a small supermarket (and by small, I mean, convenience store-size small)!  We chose one of the two tavern/restaurants there and ordered meals that seemed to take forever to be served.  Brett and I shared a lovely vegetable soup and what was called the Commercial Hamburger (”Commercial” was the name of the restaurant, an old inn).  The Commercial Burger is a typical Kiwi hamburger (even found in fast food restaurants like McDonalds and Burger King) - which consists of a burger patty, cheese, sauteed onions, lettuce, tomato, “tomato sauce” (ketchup), fried egg, beets, pineapple, and bacon (shoulder bacon, more like a slice of ham).  Yes, beets, egg, and pineapple.  Brett and I also shared this, and it turned out to be a good thing since it was about eight inches tall and served with enough chips (french fries) for all three of us to share.

Once we were satiated, we were back on the road.  It was 9:15PM, and we still had about two hours ahead of us.  I had booked us into a holiday park in Kaiteriteri - right on the beach and right at the foot of Abel Tasman National Park.  It was dark now, raining, and the roads were mostly empty.  Rus was a champ and drove the whole way.

Finally, after jamming through a very decent collection of classic rock and 80s tunes, we arrived in Kaiteriteri around 11:30PM, and looked for the holiday park.  When I say “looked”, it means that there was no stated address, and since the town is so small, we should be able to “look” and find it.  Furthermore, when I booked the cabin, I told the receptionist that we would be arriving late, and she said, “No problem, if it’s after 7:30, we’ll just leave the cabin unlocked for you”.  How’s that for down home service?!  Sure enough, we found our cabin, Cabin #8, and stepped inside.

This cabin was basic, no-frills accommodation - a bunk bed, a double bed, a desk and four chairs - all built in.  The room, self-contained, is about 12 x 12 - and pretty much perfect for our requirements.  We were exhausted, so, without even showering, we set up our sleeping bags, brushed our teeth, and went to bed.

When we awoke the next morning, we were able to truly examine our spectacular surroundings…

Visit Flickr to see more photos!

Since returning from our holiday overseas, we’ve been aching to dive back into some classic outdoor Kiwi adventures!  Monique’s aunt and uncle are vacationing in Australia for the next three weeks, so they have left a vehicle with us during their absence.  Monique had the day off (as did Rus), so our original plan involved taking a day trip to one of the many ski fields.  When it became apparent that most ski fields require snow chains to climb the unpaved, untreated (and, hence, treacherous) access roads to their lodges, we decided to have a day hike instead.  Ultimately, we chose to go to popular Arthur’s Pass (about two hours northwest).  None of us knew exactly which track we would hike, so we donned our layers and boots to prepare for whatever we decided once we got to the visitor’s centre there.

It was forecast to rain in Christchurch, but by the time we left mid-morning, the sun was streaming through the clouds.  We drove towards the towering snow-covered Alps, surrounded by lush, green pasture.  Since Spring is right around the corner, the sheep are lambing, and we saw hundreds of adorable little baby lambs bouncing around in the grass.

Soon, we were weaving up into and then between the giant mountains.  What a sight!  Some had snow, some did not, but all were stunning.  Over rivers and one-lane bridges, we made our way to Arthur’s Pass.  Besides the roads and the occasional utility line, and despite the popularity of the route (which goes straight through to the other side of the country), it was hard to discern humans had ever been there.

Nearly two hours later, we arrived in the tiny village of Arthur’s Pass, which basically consisted of a couple of cafes, a visitor’s centre, a shop or two, a train station, and a handful of backpackers’ hotels.  As we pulled into the visitor’s centre for a trail map, we saw several Kea - a giant forest parrot only found in the alpine and forest areas of New Zealand.   We wanted a closer look and started toward one, but we need not have bothered; it flew over to us and landed on the roof of a car parked next to us!  There, it strutted and showed off, even trying to peck its way into the car!  Kea are notoriously smart birds, apparently not fearful of humans, and it was cool to see one so close up!

After we got bored with the Kea (or, rather, it got bored with us!), we went inside to seek out a trail guide.  Once we determined where we were going to go (Devil’s Punch Bowl Falls), we proceeded to a cafe to grab lunch before setting off.

The walk to Devil’s Punch Bowl Falls is short (less than an hour); we could see the falls from the road.  It is a bridal veil-type falls, a tall, thin stream of water that mists before reaching the bottom.  We walked through a damp, jungle-like forest - full of lichen, mosses, ferns, and moulds - toward the base of the falls.  Once we made it there, we took some pictures and watched the water trip and fall over the rocks.  Rus and I teetered into the river on some rocks and tasted the pure mountain water (for inquiring minds: it tasted clean with a slight “rock” aftertaste).  I tried holding my hand under the rushing water and could only manage a few seconds because it was so cold!

After we had our fill of the scenery there, it was time to make our next move.  We walked back the way we came and went back to the car.  We chose another trail a few kilometres up the road.  This one, called “Bealey Valley River Track”.  The signs said it would take four hours, which was about as much daylight as we had left, so we went for it.

I found the first part of this walk very interesting.  Again, the forests seemed almost tropical, as they were positively dripping and covered with all sorts of moisture-loving organisms.  What struck me as odd, however, was the fact that such an ecosystem could exist in such a cold climate (the temperature that day was about 7C/45F).  The difficulty level of this walk was harder than the first, with many steep “steps” and tricky climbs down.  Eventually, we made it to a river, flowing rapidly from the snow-melt.   We were in a giant ravine carved by the river, with the mountainsides tall and commanding above us.  There was an “Avalanche” warning sign, and we could see distinctly where previous avalanches had stripped the areas of trees and rocks.  In spots, the snow actually covered the rushing river.

Negotiating giant boulders and crunching through knee-deep snow, we made our way to another bridal-veil falls in the distance.  Clearly, no one was here before us as we would have seen tracks.  We had long since passed our last trail marker; however, we were only about 60 minutes into a supposed four-hour walk.  Or so we thought.  A light mist started to fall, and Monique - who was not wearing waterproof tramping boots - was falling behind.   We had been walking in frigid mountain water for the last hour; her feet were surely cold.  I was beginning to tire as the walk was borderline-treacherous.    Was there water rushing beneath the snow?  Would the rocks shift under our weight?  Could the melting snow give way in the higher altitudes and put us in danger?  It was beautiful up there, and I could not get enough of the fresh air.  Monique and I both agreed that we could easily sit and simply watch the rushing water for hours.  All of that aside, however, daylight (and our energy) would start fading soon, and it was best to turn around.  We abandoned our journey to the second water fall and made our way back.  As we we were descending, the sun shone through a cloud onto the mist and treated us with a colorful rainbow!

Once back at the car, we removed our gear and prepared to head back to Christchurch.  On our way through, we decided to drive up the access road to Mt. Cheeseman (our previously-selected ski field), to see just “how serious” they were about snow chains.  The road was one-lane, winding for kilometres, with no guard rails.  It was wet and muddy, and I was happy that we had a four-wheel drive vehicle.  We continued to climb until we saw snow and Monique felt uncomfortable proceeding any further; I supposed we needed snow chains after all!  We took some amazing pictures, turned around, and drove back down to the highway to go home.

Later that night, Rus discovered that the last sign we saw on the trail was actually the end of the trail; we had completed it in about half of the estimated time and were tramping up the river in unmarked territory.  Oops!

Rus and I had been looking forward to a trip to Blenheim since we arrived in New Zealand.  About four hours north of Christchurch, with slightly warmer and sunnier weather, Blenheim is home to New Zealand’s largest vineyard region, the Marlborough region - and over sixty-five wineries.  The bleak, cold Christchurch weather prodded us north…

I booked our stay at St. Leonard’s Cottage, a homestead nestled amongst the vines in the heart of Blenheim’s wine country. We rented a car, packed it up, and was on our way mid-afternoon on Saturday.  The ride north on State Highway 1 is immensely beautiful and actually a pleasure to experience.  Once we were near Kaikoura, nearly two hours into our trip, the snow-capped mountains came into view, alongside the blue ocean to the right.  With daylight fading, this sight gave a new meaning of “purple mountains’ majesty”!

Soon it was dark (and I mean dark - no lights anywhere), and the rain began to fall.  We were hoping for a weekend of dry, sunny weather, but it was starting to look like the damp cold was following us.  We drove through the town centre and after a few missed turns here and there, we found the road where our accommodation was located.  Down a long, dark driveway, we came upon the house, an old single-story character estate built in the early 1800’s, and were immediately greeted by Paul and Daphne, our hosts.  Paul showed us to our self-contained cottage, called “The Shearer’s Quarters”.  It was one big room with a queen and a twin bed, a kitchenette complete with table and four chairs, sitting area, and full bath. It was fabulous!  Under the impression that St. Leonard’s was bed-and-breakfast, I asked when breakfast would be served. Daphne kindly informed us that breakfast was in the fridge in the cottage - fresh eggs from their hens, freshly-squeezed orange juice from the oranges in the orchard, and homemade jelly and marmalade to eat with toast; we could make breakfast ourselves at our leisure.  Yum!  I couldn’t wait for breakfast in the morning; however, in the meantime, it was time to venture out in search of dinner.   It was after 8:00PM, and we were hungry!

We got back in the care and drove back into town in search of a restaurant Paul and Daphne recommended.  Surprisingly, there was little activity going on in the town centre on a  Saturday night!  The cold and drizzly weather might have been a deterent.  Or, perhaps as harvest had recently ended, all of the grape-pickers returned to their homes.  Anyway, we were able to get a table at a wine bar called Scotch right away.  Rus and I both ordered steak and a bottle of pinot noir - from Marlborough, of course!  It was a beautiful wine called Clayridge. The steak was decent; not the best but still quite nice.  We each had a glass of wine and planned on taking the rest back to the room; however, we were informed by our server that we could not take the bottle with us (the rules in Blenheim are different from Christchurch, where one is permitted to take an unfinished bottle home).  So, since Rus was driving and not wanting to “waste” a perfectly good bottle of wine, we talked and people-watched at the restaurant for another hour whilst I finished the rest of the bottle of wine (tough job, huh?).  Afterwards, we made our way back to the cottage.

After a nice, hot shower, we climbed into the most comfortable bed we had experienced in New Zealand before drifting off to rest up for Sunday’s activities…

Rus and I are off to Blenheim (pronounced BLENN-uhm) for a short weekend getaway.  Blenheim is in the Marlborough region, about four hours by car north of Christchurch, near the top of the South Island.  It is New Zealand’s largest wine region, with 65 vineyards, and famous for its world’s best Sauvignon Blanc.  We will thoroughly check out as much as possible, and, of course, report back to The Starbuck Report!

Cheers!

Last Sunday and Monday, Rus and I decided to do a tramp (trek + camp = tramp) at Banks Peninsula.  We chose this trail because it is accessible to Christchurch via bus and ferry; we did not want to rent a car.  Christchurch sits on an area of flat plains (known as Canterbury Plains) between the Southern Alps that run the length of the South Island and the mountains of Banks Peninsula.  Banks Peninsula has a series of “fingers” that reach into the ocean and create several picturesque harbours along it (Lyttelton is one of them).

We left Darby Street around 11:00AM after a hearty breakfast, with our packs full of gear.  Though the tramp can be done in one long day, we decided to bring our tent and sleeping gear and turn it into two short days.  We walked down to the casino (about a kilometre away) to pick up the #28 bus to Lyttelton.  Once we got to Lyttelton, we barely caught the ferry over to Diamond Harbour.  It was a perfectly clear, warm day, and being on the cool, aqua water was great - all seven minutes of it.  We departed the dock at Diamond Harbor and began our trek up to the top of Mount Herbert.  At this point, it was a little after 1:00PM.  We walked along one of the fingers and up through the woods to a small residential area, then on to a farm road.  We did not bring a “topo map” (a.k.a. topography map) for this tramp since it was fairly straightforward, and Rus brought his GPS to help us find the route.  Since we are new to the tramping scene, we did not know to look for the trail markers - and we simply followed a farm road that seemed to lead to the top.

The afternoon sun was positively blazing, and I quickly stripped down to my racerback tank top (and applied some serious sunscreen).  There were no trees, just tufts of dry grass on this trek.  Not used to carrying around so much extra weight, my pack was already feeling heavy and uncomfortable.  We had barely started!  About 1.5 kilometres into this tramp (which would take us from sea level to 900m in 6km of walking), we stopped at the only trees in view for a quick lunch break.  I took off my awesome new hiking boots to discover some serious blisters forming on my heels and applied Band-Aids accordingly.  I could deal with a little discomfort but open blisters would have proven to be a problem on the trip back down the mountain.

The next couple of hours were hot and tough - parts of the mountain were steep, and the relentless sun, the heavy packs, and sore feet made the trip less than comfortable.  All the while, however, I took photos of the increasingly amazing views.  As our altitude increased, we could see part of the bay, than the whole bay and several harbours, the Alps in the far distance, and the ocean on two sides - breathtaking!

We continued up the farmers’ road (which was little more than two tyre tracks worn into the grass) until we finally met up with the “real” trail.  The whole time, we were in sheep- and cow-grazing territory.  Several times we had to let ourselves in paddock gates to continue on our journey.  Many of New Zealand’s trails go through private property at some point - and they owners do not mind!  Not once did we have to worry about a shotgun-wielding farmer stalking us as we were trying to enjoy the weather and the scenery (or pee in the woods) - sweet as!

So… we continued our ascent of Mount Herbert, taking short breaks to checkout the scenery and catch our breaths.  As we continued toward the summit, we passed by a few people who were going down (typically, trampers drive to the other side of the mountain, take a short climb to the summit, take pictures at the top, and descend the steep area we were attempting to ascend - hence the comments about how steadfast we were?).  It is an easy one-day hike from the summit to the bottom but could easily turn into a two- or three-day hike they way we decided to go from Lyttelton.  At this point, we were experiencing a bit of relief from the sun in the way of a cool ocean breeze.  This inevitably made the journey easier (especially since we were being stared down by the numerous cows with which we came in contact, as if we were naked or something!) and thankfully, too, because every time we thought we reached the summit, we could look even further and see the next one - and the next one.

Finally, around 4:30PM, Rus and I decided that our feet had had enough, and it was time to stop.  The problem was that we were still on the trail and had not yet reached the hut where we were supposed to spend the night.  As a matter of fact, we were only about one kilometre from the summit, but we wanted to err on the side of caution regarding our blister situation.

Ultimately, we decided to pull about ten metres off the trail and found a suitable place to tent for the night.  We took off our boots and put on our sandals, set up the tent, and got in to get out of the blazing sun.  From there, we boiled some water for a reconstituted meal (which tasted pretty good!) and rested.  A few hours later, we were able to watch the sun set and see the lights come on in Christchurch.  With the sun gone, the temperature started dropping rapidly.

Eventually, it was completely dark, and we were getting sleepy, and although it was not yet 9:00PM, it was time to go to bed.  We covered the packs with a pack cover and got in the tent, leaving one mesh side uncovered so I could look at the stars.  A couple of cows were grazing nearby, and we could hear their occasional mooing.  Other than that, it was quiet.

A few hours after we fell asleep, the wind started picking up.  It was flapping the tent cover loudly, and I thought some of our gear might blow away (the wind was that strong).  We got up and secured the tent cover and everything else, and got back in the tent.  While we were out, we looked up to see the Milky Way in the dark, clear sky.  The stars never ceases to amaze me!

Eventually, we went back to sleep, tossed and turned through the night a bit and woke up when the sun was above the horizon the next morning.  We watched the light unfold across the landscape while we packed up everything for the trek back.  We decided to skip the summit and head back to Christchurch.

Now knowing where the “real” trail was, we decided to follow it back all the way and discovered that walking down is just as difficult as walking up - it just goes faster.  Though the landscape was the same - short green grasses, tufts of dry yellow grasses, thistles, skittish sheep and cows, paddocks, and lots of poop - we traversed through a few valleys instead of on the tops of the hills.

A few hours later, we reached the head of the trail and made our way to Diamond Harbour.  We had a few minutes before the next ferry arrived, so we took off our boots and put our feet in the cold bay water - ahhh, sweet relief!  The ferry took us to Lyttleton, and the bus took us back to Christchurch.  Another short walk, and we were home.  Showers and a nap dominated the rest of the day, and sore muscles prevailed over the next few.

Overall, an excellent first tramp; I am looking forward to the next one!

Even though we did not get to swim with the dolphins, it was still an awesome afternoon on the boat.  Now, our bellies were telling us it was time to eat.  We stopped at a wine shop to get a bottle of Pinot Noir, and then at a seafood shack to get some seafood.  We bought fresh New Zealand clams, muscles, and some Australian giant prawns (there are no prawns off Kaikoura’s coast, we were told, and they looked good).  Then, I popped into the local supermarket (it was the size of a large American convenience store like Wawa) to buy butter (garlic butter, since I would have had to buy a pound of the plain stuff), a lemon, and white wine.

Back at the campsite, Rus set up the tent while I prepped the food.  I cut up a red onion we brought and washed off the shellfish.  I got the pots ready.  Then, Rus turned on the stove, and it took minutes to get the water boiling.  We boiled the seafood for a few minutes then cleared the pot to make the sauce - a little olive oil, chopped red onion, garlic butter, and white wine - yum!  It smelled so good I could hardly wait!  We poured the sauce over the seafood and dug in.  In the meantime, I made some reconstituted vegetables (camping food).   The food was fabulous!

The sun was setting, so we wanted to start the fire and clean up before darkness fell completely.  Once we did this, we drank (all of the) wine by the fire and hung out until it was time to walk around the corner to take showers. There were many RVs and campers at the site, but we did not run into many people.  Shortly before we turned in for the night, another couple set up a tent about 50 metres from ours, but we did not hear them at all.

After we showered, we crawled into our sleeping bags in the tent to go to sleep. I set my mobile phone alarm for 6:00AM so I could watch the sunrise.  Rus seemed to sleep like a rock, but I woke up well before dawn.  When we went to bed, it was cloudy, but in the middle of the night, the sky had cleared, and I could see a million bright stars, even a couple of shooting stars darting across the sky.  It was awesome!  With the view of the night sky and the sound of the crashing ocean waves, it was pleasant and peaceful, and I fell asleep again.

My alarm went off as planned at 6:00AM, and I dressed to watch the sunrise.  It was chilly, so I had on pants and a fleece and vest.  It was still quite dark.  While I waited, I gathered rocks from the beach.  This particular beach, to me, looked like an old river bed, as all of the rocks were a similar size.  They were also egg-shaped and perfectly smooth.  The rocks were mostly gray limestone, but there were other rocks that were brown, and still others that were bright white.  I was gathering several of each color.  I also selected some cool, bleached driftwood pieces from the beach.  These would be used in a household decoration of some sort.  Walking up and down that beach, at that hour, I felt like the only person in the world.  I did not see or hear another soul.

Soon, the sky started to change many colors - purples, pinks, oranges - and soon after that, the sun peaked over the ocean horizon.  A few minutes later, it was all over and the sun had fully emerged from the water.  Satisfied, I crawled back into the tent for a long nap.

Rus woke me up a few hours later.  He had already cleaned the pots from the night before and talked to someone who said we should not have built a fire.  He was boiling water for tea.  I cut up an orange and scrounged around for other breakfast snacks.  I was feeling a little lousy from the wine and a poor night of sleep, and the hot tea tasted great.

Alas, all good things must end, so we packed up our stuff and loaded it into the car.  We found a cafe with a nice back patio and ordered nice breakfasts and coffees.  We were being stalked by the many little birds living in the surrounding trees; these little creatures were surely kept well-fed from the cafe’s patrons.  Once breakfast was over, we filled up the gas tank and started back to Christchurch.

We stopped at another campsite to check it out as another option for a future trip, crawled on some ocean rocks, and took in the salty ocean breeze.  The seas were much calmer today.  Once back in the car, we looked out across the ocean, and what did we see?   One of the fishing yachts we were on the day before - surrounded by at least 50 dolphins!  They were beautiful even all the way from the road.  We vowed to come back and try to swim with the dolphins again.

Eventually, near Cheviot, we had the option to take the “Scenic Route” home, so we took a road to a place called Gore Bay, which is a tiny, residential area with cute cottages nestled into the tree-covered hills.   We parked the car and walked down a steep make-shift staircase to the beach below. To the south, another huge cliff dropped straight down to the ocean.  The water was blue and clear and cold. There were several other people walking the beach and some even set up a picnic.  It was after noon, and it was going to be another awesome day.  I wished we could stay longer, but we had to get back.

The rest of the scenic route took us to the top of the mountains, where it was colder and wetter.  Grazing pastures (and their inhabitants) dominated this area, and we actually saw houses from time to time.  Eventually, we wound our way through to the main road and made it back to Christchurch by mid-afternoon.  We quickly unpacked the car, and Rus returned it shortly thereafter while I put things away.

I thought Queenstown was stunning, but Kaikoura is more my style.  I love the beach, and though tourism is a huge part of its economy, it does not feel nearly as “touristy” as Queenstown does.  The close-by Alps as the beach’s backdrop make the scenery in Kaikoura even more dramatic.  Like most of New Zealand, the area as a whole is relatively undeveloped.  There are no multi-million dollar beach houses covering its pristine coast, just the occasional 7m by 7m bach.  No high rises.  All local businesses - with all of the eclectism and charm that comes with them. I cannot wait to go back.

I would definitey live there.

Continued from “Kaikoura”…

Several weeks ago, Rus and I booked a trip with Encounter Kaikoura, which specialises in dolphin watching and dolphin swimming tours.  Our flatmate, Radu, had swam with the dolphins a few weeks earlier and said it was amazing, so we opted to try it!  I did not know the details, only that the tour takes a bunch of people out on a boat to see dolphins and drops a few of them (wearing wetsuits) into the ocean so they could swim with them.

Kaikoura is a small town of about 2,000 people and is unique because of the deep ocean trenches just off its coast.  The underwater canyon system merges warm water from the north and mixes it with the cold waters from the Antarctic.  This allows the nutrients to be dispersed into the deep and support the huge communities of large ocean mammals like dolphins and whales that live there.  With relatively easy access to these awesome animals by boat, Kaikoura is a popular eco-tourist spot.

Once we checked into Encounter Kaikoura, a tourist shop and cafe bustling with people on this beautiful day, we waited to be summoned to get our wetsuits. From the outset, we were told that the first two tours did not go out that morning due to the rough seas from the storm.  Also, no dolphins had been spotted by any of the watching companies (there are many offering whale- and dolphin-watching by boat, helicopter, and small plane).  We were also told, in the event we did not get to see any dolphins, we would get charged a small operational fee.  I guess you could say that they did a good job of managing our expectations.  We went outside in the warm sun to await our call.

Once we got our wetsuits on (looking rather ridiculous), we waddled out to the presentation room with about 50 others, to watch an informational video about the dolphins we were about the encounter (hopefully).  Here, we learned that the dusky dolphins, were not baited or fed for the tours.  We also learned that they are quite acrobatic and love to do flips and spins; hopefully, we would see some of these while we were out!

After the video, it was time to go!  We boarded a bus for a five minute trip to the dock where two 30-ft. fishing boats awaited.  We got on our boat and soon after, we were off in search of dusky dolphins.

A little bit about the weather - it was warm (about 20C/70F) and sunny with some fluffy clouds in the sky.  The water was clear, light blue and beautiful.  After nearly two weeks of colder and wet weather (this is supposed to be Summer!), it was such a welcome change.  At first, the roller coaster-like motion of the boat as it went over the waves was fun, but some people near me were already disliking the trip (getting seasick).

On our way out to sea, we talked to a cool 30-something British couple (who live and work in Portugal).  They have spent the last month travelling New Zealand and were going to take a helicopter to the top of Mount Fyffe (which, at its summit, gives panoramic views of Kaikoura) to get married at sunset the next day.  It was going to be just the two of them and the Justice of the Peace.  The guy said they had been engaged for five years, and since their friends and families were scattered all over the world, they decided to marry privately and “make big parties” in Portugal and the UK when they got back.  As beautiful as Kaikoura is, I can see why they chose it to celebrate their special day - very romantic!

After about 45 minutes, we were told that the other boat that went out with us spotted something - an orca!  Orca are occasional predators of dusky dolphins, we were told, so my expectations of seeing those dolphins were dimished further.   By the time we had arrived, a second orca was with the first, both young males.  They were so close to the boat and beautiful!   While we were there checking out the orca, a flock of Wandering Albatross flew into the area.  These birds can live 70+ years and have wingspans of over three metres!  Rus captured some excellent photos of these fascinating animals.

Eventually, we continued on our expedition to find the dusky dolphins.  I migrated to the deck on the back of the boat to enjoy the sun, wind, and sea spray - what a glorious day out on the open ocean!  After searching for another hour and going farther and farther down the coast (we passed our campsite), the tour decided to take us over to an area where New Zealand Fur Seals live.  We had seen an odd one here and there, just laying on their backs floating, with their little front flippers resting on their bellies - so cute!  There was a giant rock off the coast where many of these little animals were resting in the sun.  There were adorable little baby fur seals too!  We floated near the rock so everyone could see them and take photos, then we were told it was time to go back.  We had been gone for 2.5 hours.

On the way back, the tour said there had been some dolphins spotted!  When I looked up, we were right in front of our campsite.  These were likely the exact dolphins we had seen this morning while selecting our tent site.  The tour guides should have just asked us, right?  At any rate, these were Hector’s dolphins - small, endangered, and very rare - and Encounter Kaikoura (actually, no one) has a commercial licence to swim with them.  We had to be content (and we were!) observing them from the boat.  They swam all around us, and we had plenty of opportunity to look at them.  One thing I did not realize about dolphins is that they sound just like humans when they inhale a deep breath.  It was cool to see and hear them!

Soon, it was time to go back to port for good.  We began the trip back and were told that we would be charged half-price for a “spectators’ tour”.  I was starting to feel a bit seasick (not from that news, although I was a bit annoyed), so I rested on the seat in front of me for the remainder of the trip and was glad when we reached solid ground again.  We took the bus back, changed out of the wetsuits, and walked across the street to our car.  We had been gone for four hours, and it was early (just before 5:00PM), but time to find dinner!

Rus and I were supposed to go up to Kaikoura (about two hours North) on Saturday night.  The plan was to drive up, find a place for dinner, set up the tent at the camp site, and relax before Sunday’s activities. However, by the time Rus was finished with work and it was time to pick up the rental car, a huge storm was raging - bringing torrential downpours and tropical storm-force winds.  Our packs were ready to go, but the weather was terrible (in Forrest Gump rain terms, it was “rain that came in sideways”), so we opted to go in the morning.

Saturday night we made dinner and chilled so we could get an early jump on the trip in the morning.

By the time we woke up on Sunday around 7:30AM, the sun was shining brightly and warmly, and there was not a cloud in site.   Everything smelled so fresh!   We ate breakfast, packed up the car, and were on our way.  The trip up to Kaikoura is straight up the coast on State Highway 1 (a two-lane highway) and is so stunning!  It was hard to believe there was an optional “Scenic Route” (which I think is redundant); we decided we would take on the way home.

We first drove through Waipara wine region, where we had been wine-tasting a few weeks prior.  Then we hit patches of rural grazing areas - lots of deer and horses and sheep (of course).  We stopped in a tiny town called Cheviot for a coffee, then jumped back in the car for the rest of the journey.  We drove up into the mountains, on roads that dropped off hundreds of metres into deep valleys.  Trees and heavy vegetation covered these mountains, and the sight of it all was simply spectacular.  Once again, except for the odd power line or farm shack, this scenery was virtually untouched.  There did, however, seem to be “more traffic than usual”, i.e. we saw several cars on the trip.

Eventually we made our way to the top of hill and a glorious view of the sea awaited us.  The sun was glistening off the azure water.  The rocky coast and mountains in the background, in contrast, were dark.  It was like a living postcard!

We winded our way back down the mountains to near-sea level; the road, at this point, traced the coastline.  The waves in the ocean were large from the storm that had passed and crashed against the rocks in giant splashes.  I could not get over the color of the water - simply beautiful!  With the fresh, salty breeze and the warm sun, it was going to be a great day!

We continued winding, passing by several scenic lookouts where others stopped to take pictures.  We went through short mountain tunnels and alongside a train track which we knew continued North into another area we have yet to visit - Marlborough (one of our future trips involves taking same coastal train to Marlborough with our bikes and biking to visit several of the 30+ vineyards there).

Several kilometres down the road and we found our campsite, Peketa. We stopped into the office to book a tent site and found a spot that would be suitable.  The campsite is right off the beach in the grassy dunes (no sand).  Walk a few metres, and the rocky beach and ocean waves await.  There were no other tents around us at the time. We gathered damp driftwood and left it on an old picnic table to dry in the sun; we would use it to build a fire later.  Looking out into the ocean, not far off from the breakers was a small pod of dolphins.  I was getting excited!

At this time, it was getting close to our scheduled time to swim with the dolphins, so we made our way to Encounter Kaikoura to check in!