Category: Travel

While in Greymouth our B&B host had recommended that we should see the Pancake Rocks which are only  a few kilometres North of the town along the coastal highway.  So, on leaving the next morning, we duly made our way along that road.

The weather was warm and muggy and we saw sea clouds rolling in in places.  The road is pretty much along the sea with the semi-tropical forest, typical of the Western side of the mountains, rising steeply inland.

We got to the rocks in no time at all, despite our first experience of the common NZ road building technique of connecting stretches of two lane road with single track bridges.  Disconcerting until you get used to it.  I think we had expected the rocks would be at the end of a track from a nondescript car park.  Not so.  There is a large car park, iSite, cafe and a Tarmac path with information boards leading down to, round and back from the rocks via a different route.  It was also our first experience of a tourist site in NZ at Chinese New Year.  It was busy. And we saw our first Jucy rental vehicle, a common sight on the roads here.

While on the path down to the rocks, we heard lots of cicadas chirping (If they chirp.  Perhaps that’s crickets). They were on the flax plants and one was clearly visible.

The Pancake Rocks are in Punakaiki. They are layers of limestone, the layers being caused by the pressure on alternating layers of hard and soft deposits when the rocks were formed. A very interesting formation, slowly being worn away by the action of the sea. There are blow holes which perform at high tide and probably best with strong onshore surf. We didn’t have those conditions so we stayed dry.

Leaving the Rocks, we turned back towards Greymouth and passed through on our way to Hokitika. The cloud had cleared by this time and we arrived in brilliant sunshine.  The town is now a centre for tourism and, it would appear, a laid-back lifestyle. We had a wander around the beach looking at some of the imaginative art work made from drift wood in a recent competition.

We had contacted the B&B where we were staying in Greymouth the day before we arrived to confirm details. “Arriving at 3.00pm? Perfect.  See you then.” So when the boating team dumped us a bit early we just sat outside the B&B on chairs in the shade. Jane read her Kindle; I fiddled with email. At about 3.00 we rang the bell. Nothing but no problem.  We’ll just continue chilling here.  3.15 and still no reply, including to a phone call.  Visions of having to find alternative accommodation begin to form. At 3.30, just as we were wondering whether we needed forensics, a nice chap arrived by car at the back of the property and let himself, then us, in.

From then on we were very well looked after. Having been recommended a restaurant (Buccleugh’s on High. Found later to be pretty good) we went off and booked a table before proceeding down (past the local RSA which came complete with 25 pounder and Bofors guns) into town to check out the car hire arrangements for the next day.  Then we started to walk round town, along a shore-side cycling track. Glorious hot weather still.

The town rather reminded us of Bo’ness in Scotland.  A coal production and exporting town trying to find a focus in the 21st century following the loss of its original raison d’être.  Greymouth has the advantage of tourism but there is still a lot of Victorian and Edwardian infrastructure which people are now trying to use profitably.

We had decided to travel from Christchurch to Greymouth by the TranzAlpine railway link in order to see the scenery across the island.  And, despite a comment from a fellow passenger that the Rockies are better, we don’t regret it.

Checking out of the hotel early, we were shuttled to the station in time to check in by 0745. Our baggage joined others’ in the baggage van (a some what old fashioned but very useful facility) at the front of the train but it was labelled since we planned to disembark at Moana, a couple of stops before Greymouth.

The TranzAlpine left Christchurch at 8.15. Our carriage was almost empty and we thought that the booking clerk must have been wrong the previous day when she  said that the train would be full.  However, we soon stopped at Darfield and the carriage filled with people who were on a tour.  All very organised.

We crossed the Canterbury plains, gaining height all the time. The clouds, down over the mountains to the West, soon burned off leaving us with hot sunshine.  The track on the Eastern side of the mountains weaves along the valley of the Waimakariri river and there are some excellent views.  Jane stayed in our seats while I went to the observation car, armed with the camera. And quickly returned. It was open at both sides and cold in the wind.  A jacket was called for.

Properly clad, I took up a position in the viewing car quite early in the journey when few others were about.  As the train moved up the valley, more people joined us until it became pretty crowded.  Staying on one side, I was able to keep a position from which to take photographs.  There were frequent short tunnels when it was necessary to make sure that camera and arms were inside the carriage.

At Arthur’s Pass station the tour party left us to make their way by coach to Franz Josef while additional engines were attached to the train to assist with the passage through the Otira Tunnel.  The tunnel is 8.5km long and has a steep gradient of 1 in 33. The engines make fumes which are sucked out by fan but the observation car is shut while passing through.

Once once we were through the tunnel it was only 35  minutes or so before the train reached Moana on Lake Brunner where we and our baggage left.  We had booked what was billed as a gentle drift down river where we could relax and learn about local nature, customs and legends. The rubber dinghy into which we got, and were given our own paddles didn’t quite seem to match the description.

In fact, we had quite a good afternoon assisting with paddling downstream (although the two guys who formed the crew insisted that they would have done all the work if we had wanted). We did learn to identify the local flax plant and to make simple woven objects from its leaves.

The weather was very hot and sunny and we were glad to land and to rejoin our luggage in a mini-bus to complete the journey to Greymouth.

Arrived Sydney about 15 minutes late at 0745. But that wasn’t an issue since we had all day before the flight to Christchurch that evening. Bags were through ticketed so we just had to get ourselves out of the airport and a not town. We had e-visas and that system worked well. Booked through we went to the Qantas desk on the transit side to check in for he Sydney – Christchurch leg. No problem. We were allowed out of the transit side by a slightly confused Border Guard officer but she opened the door and directed us to the immigration line. Being honest citizens, we had declared that we had some of Jane’s exercise biscuits with us. Being naïve we didn’t think that meant we had to go through the red line. We found out that it did after a bit of queuing in the green lane when the rather bored officer there directed us to the back of the red lane queue for processing. Less than amused. The signing isn’t at all clear.

Once through immigration we set off to the city centre where we were meeting some of Jane’s distant cousins for lunch. The price for two return tickets $75 seemed quite pricey when compared to the Piccadilly Line to LHR. Exiting at Circular Quay our first stop was coffee.

Looking at the Sydney Harbour Bridge with a cruise liner in the foreground.what could be better? A couple of flat whites were just what we needed.

Then a quick look for a pharmacy to buy the anti-bug preparation we had been recommended to deal with the sand flies expected in NZ. Brilliant sunshine so we had a quick wander and looked at the Opera House from a distance before going to find Jane’s cousins Jen(ny), Alex and James plus Jen’s husband Karl and James’ fiancé in the restaurant they had booked .

Great to meet them and to talk family.

While we were in the restaurant the forecast T-storm arrived. It got much darker and than the skies opened, driving everyone indoors (where we were already). Then, as it had arrived, the rain departed and we had sunshine for a walk to the Opera House.

Finally, back to the airport for the onward flight.