palm reader

I continued north along the west coast to the famous pancake rocks and blowholes.

If you got my 2001 Christmas card, it was taken here, in Paparoa National Park in Punakaiki. 

The rocks are awesome, stacked layers and natural arches from the erosion of the sea. 

If you go at high tide you're treated to the splash of the blowhole. 

Except yesterday which the ranger said was the result of northernlies or sourherlies. Still it was a beautiful walk, and I compared notes with a woman from Boston on our various journeys b

This staircase reminded me of a Chinese rock garden, and not just because of the many Chinese tourists. 

Afterward I went into a cave, just far enough to wish I had my head lamp. 

Then I headed down the Porari track, a gentle scenic trail I'd hiked years ago.

It did not disappoint. These Nikau palms are the southernmost palm trees in the world. 

It's really luscious. 

Everything is covered with ferns and moss. 

Now I'm back with friends high above the sea, in a perfect spot that hasn't changed a bit. 

David promised me the last time that I'd be back. 

I may never leave. 

stick in the mud

Okarito is also famous for the kohuku or white heron sanctuary.

Charlotte and I headed out in a double kayak across the windy lagoon at high tide and quickly spotted one. As we tried to get closer, it flew off. 

This emboldened us to head away from the official markers into the reeds. 

A heron flew overhead! We paddled to another part of the lagoon and found ourselves wedged into 6 inches of gray silt. We pushed and paddled like a gondola but didn't seem to go anywhere. 

A shag watched from the rock. Eventually Charlotte got out barefoot and wedged us free. 

We entered a peaceful grove of ferns, not far from the area where we listened for kiwi the night before. 

The lagoon had an amber color like root beer. 

We were late returning so we cheated and got a ride back. 

Who needs cross-fit when you can haul a kayak up a steep hillside using only a rope? (Or have someone do it for you.)

All in all, a quiet peaceful way to spend a morning. I'll come back to Okarito one day soon. Glad it hasn't changed too much in the years I've been away. 

in the dark

Last night I learned to focus, and listen. Okarito is home to the Okarito brown kiwi, an extremely rare and endangered species. 

When Ian came to Okarito in 1998 as a backpacker and stayed at the Royal Hotel, there were only 140 or so left. Today, thanks to tireless work by Ian and the DoC, there are roughly 400, half of them tagged. When an egg is laid, a volunteer scoops it up and takes it to the kiwi center, safe from predators. Otherwise a hatched kiwi in the wild stands only a 5% chance of survival. 

Kiwis are nocturnal and extremely shy. They don't see well, so they rely on sound. Ian showed us how to be very very quiet. No photos. No rustling clothes. No sneezing. 

After dark we set out in search of BZ ("Bee Zed") and Beaumont, his lady friend. They are 17 and 18 years old. Ian has known them all of their lives.

We listened to them wake up around 9 pm and snuffle to each other. Then we heard them begin to walk through the bush. We followed a trail to a dell filled with ferns and trees and settled in, as they approached, then evaded us. We waited. 

Ian held a device that looked like an orange TV antenna to help locate them. At one point we heard a shrill cry: BZ and Beaumont calling to each other. The stars came out: Orion upside down! Venus to the east. Then we started to look for Jim, another kiwi. 

But Ian the kiwi whisperer located our couple again. And suddenly after a rustle in the leaves Beaumont appeared in the road right where we were standing, without ever realizing we were there. 

A tiny delicate creature, she came within a foot of Charlotte as she hurried across and vanished into the bush. I hope she's still there in 10 years and 15. Ian said the new goal is population 400, which is a lot more than the town's 20 permanent human residents. 

 

Walking home at midnight, the stars of the Southern sky were overwhelming too. 

More info:

http://www.okaritokiwitours.co.nz/

http://nzbirdsonline.org.nz/species/okarito-brown-kiwi

https://www.kiwisforkiwi.org/

my beach house

I first stayed at the Royal Hotel in Okarito in 2001. It was a rainy May and I left Punakaiki with a full car. Someone knew someone who knew Roseanne who ran the Royal.

We didn't realize how small the town was and cobbled together dinner from  silverbeet (chard) growing in the garden. Breakfast, crepes with berries and whipped cream, was served at half past. 

The hostel was a collection of buildings including a ramshackle trailer. There was an illicit pub in a red barn where Roseanne and I won a darts' tournament(!) amidst a Keanu Reeves film festival. Strangely appropriate in a tiny settlement on the Tasman whose only population boom was as a gold mining town 150 years ago. 

Today, as the Okarito Beach House, it's a luxurious but affordable rental with a huge sunny kitchen and huger dining room table. 

None of the other bedrooms is occupied so I have the whole place to myself. A haven on a huge sandy spit surrounded by lagoons. 

The white heron sanctuary is to the north. 

The reeds and marshes are home to oystercatchers and ducks and the Okarito brown kiwi, rarest of kiwi birds. Tonight I'm going for a naturalist walk in search of them. 

I asked Aaron for a key. There isn't one. No one in Okarito locks their doors. 

I may never leave. 

North by Westland

Instead of states or provinces, New Zealand has districts. I started out in Fiordland. Today I drove north through Mt Aspiring Park and Haast Pass to the Wild West coast. 

Goodbye Lake Wanaka. 

First mini-hike was the blue pools. 

Look at all those minerals! This is glacier-fed so kind of chilly. 

Next stops: Fantail Falls and Thunder Creek Falls. 

These are on highway 6 so the trails are packed with vans of French and German tourists. 

Time to get off the beaten path. Curly Tree sells one thing and one thing only: whitebait patties cooked to order. Delicious! 

Moana also sent me to my next stop, a new Department of Conservation stop with two walkways at Ship Creek. 

I'll be staying on the beach so I chose the inland path which follows a root beer colored river with trees straight out of the Lorax. 

I loved it. 

I'd hoped to see Mt Cook from Lake Matheson near Fox Glacier, but it eluded me again. Guess I'll have to come back. 

I'm now happily settled at my beach house in Okarito, but I'll save that for tomorrow. (It's already tomorrow here. See you on the other side.) 

*** 

Here's a good map of my journey so far. Landed in Queenstown, drove to Wanaka, and then took Highway 6 over Haast pass north.

in search of a view

 I have Scott Cook's excellent NZ Frenzy books, but fresh off the plane didn't think I was up to the Rob Roy glacier hike and drive. 

Lots of people climb straight up this peak. I don't know why. Scott recommended the Diamond Lake viewpoint. 

Fortunately I missed the turn and noticed these waterfalls and a couple of kite surfers. 

This is what the trail looked like before the Department of Conservation put in 10,000 steps. 

Good thing the scenery was nice. 

The view from the top was okay. No view of Mt Aspiring or Lake Wanaka. Until I noticed the waterfalls across the way, the same ones from the beginning. 

On the way back to town I stopped for a few glacier pictures. 

No too shabby. 

Then I had to visit the famous tree. 

If you ask me, someone's trying to turn Wanaka into Spirit Lake in Alberta. Or One Tree Hill in Auckland. It even has a hashtag. 

Still, it's a pretty great tree. It's a pretty great town too. 

Wanaka

On my first trip to New Zealand in December 2000, I met a vigorous aging Brit on the bus to jet boating. (He probably wasn't that much older than I am now.) It was his 4th trip to New Zealand, so I was curious about his favorite places. 

We were in Queenstown, a spectacular fjord with turquoise lakes, a popular ski resort I've passed through many times but never warmed up to. Why travel all the way to New Zealand to go somewhere like Aspen or Tahoe? 

Flying in this morning, the flight attendants joked about not being allowed to photograph Taylor Swift's private plane when she was in town last week. 

Anyway, I wish I remember all of Robert's list, but the place that intrigued me most was Wanaka. I made it there six months later on my next trip. 

That trip was one of my least-planned adventures, 5 weeks in the off season with few reservations. I looked through postcards in the bookstore and decided to go to Abel Tasman based on a picture. (If you've ever seen Abel Tasman you understand why.) 

***

Wanaka is an hour from Queenstown but laid back and peaceful. Less known for bars and resorts than the old movie theater Cinema Paradiso and Puzzling World where I spent a rainy day wandering through mazes and playing games. There's a yarn store and Paper Plus is still selling calendars and notecards. 

Last time I stayed at the Purple Cow hostel with a view of the lake and read The Lord of the Rings trilogy and Harry Potter books. The films hadn't come out yet (I saw the first one seven months later, New Year's Eve in Melbourne), but they'd been shot nearby and I've always thought of Wanaka as a magical place. 

So I'm glad to make it my first stop, after too many years away. 

Wanaka has grown too. If Queenstown has NZD$3 million properties and new traffic circles (aka roundabouts), Wanaka has resorts too. I ate lunch at one today, still reeling from 3 flights. 

A tony group of tall men drank beers and then headed for the lakefront and vanished. The servers were confused: they thought the party was staying for lunch. But no: they were on a helicopter pub crawl. 

There are other changes in the past 15 years, noticeably more Chinese tourists and more Asian immigrants. The public toilets talk. There's public wifi in some of the streets (take that, San Francisco!), and a lot more wineries. 

But the view is as breathtaking as ever, and everyone I meet thinks I live here. It's late spring and the hillsides are filled with lupin and lambs. Strawberries are in season again. 

The main attraction is still the bright blue water and glaciers and kite surfers leaping high into the air. Thank you, Robert Harris, wherever you are.