A trip even further south

Dear all,

Let me start with some friendly advice and do take heed when I advise each and every one of you to never, and I repeat never, visit the town of Westport, New Zealand. After four days spent on the idyllic beaches of Kaiteriteri and the picturesque landscapes of the Abel Tasman National Park, I headed further south to the small, sleepy and somewhat apocalyptic time of Westport - but I'm getting ahead of myself. The town hardly warrants mentioning and I think you'll struggle to find it noted in any written form - most likely because all that visit are suddenly struck with stupidity and a disabling sense of apathy to carry on - yet for those very reasons I feel it my duty to write, inform and warn all those that find themselves thinking 'oh Westport, I wonder what that's like', to never have to experience its depressive wrath. For now, however, I'll do my best to fill you in from where I left and that winds us back to just over a week, as I packed my bags once again, jumped on the bus from Wellington and headed south across the waters to explore the marvels of that island they cleverly named the South Island of New Zealand.

Right, well for all of you that weren't aware, New Zealand does in fact consist of two main islands. There are also quite a few surrounding blobs of rock that fly the Kiwi flag high, but for now we'll focus on these two. Up until now, all that I've written has taken place on the North Island, with my last post in Wellington being the last stop before heading over the watery gap to the lesser populated, ever-more-dramatic South Island. After a ferry ride that makes the Channel crossing look like a woman's unshaven armpit, I spent the day travelling through the towns of Nelson and Richmond before disembarking for a four day stopover in Kaiteriteri. Kaiteriteri - Mauri for grab food and run really fast, the repetition of a word in Mauri signifying emphasis - is somewhere I would recommend to any that have the opportunity. The limestone cliffs, white sandy beaches and small friendly towns are surrounded by dense rainforest and steep mountainsides, creating a picture-perfect postcard moment in pretty much every spot you find yourself in. I spent the four days in the wonderful company of Amy and Angela, the three of us meeting on the ferry-ride over, and with good company and an idyllic setting, had a rather blissful few days. I took the first day to explore and proceeded on what was a by any account a very long walk, before spending the second shut in by heavy rain, reading and doing our best to bake with the limited hostel supplies we had between us. The third, we woke at 5 a.m. to catch the sunrise and by six, were making tracks toward the national park for another day's walking. After another long days hiking, we put our feet up in the afternoon, sat on the beach and tasted a bottle of red, which grew just a few kilometers away. 

After what were an almost perfect few days, we headed to the aforementioned town of Westport. Arriving around six in the evening, we were confronted with a stark contrast to the blissful days of Kaiteri and were abruptly faced with a town that by all measure was plain and simple horrible. Shortly after arriving, a few of us took the streets to stretch our legs and see what Westport had to offer. As you might have guessed, we were inordinately disappointed. It once was, as you can quickly tell from the many sculptures and single museum, a coal mining and a reasonably influential town in the surrounding area. Those days have long since passed and what's left is an overwhelming feeling of decline, decay and depression. The town resembles that of Scooby-doo episode, where no matter how far you walk, the same three houses repeat over and over without exception, finally concluding with a ghost-like figure revealing itself mumbling nonsensical rubbish under its breath, in fashion with the rest of zombie-residents that dwell there. Its parochialism does lend to humour for the casual observer and as such Westport, for me, wins 'Best Noticeboard of New Zealand 2011'. Walking into the only open shop at 7 p.m., I bought a coke to raise my sugar levels above the zombifaction which appears to have taken hold of all that live there and stumbled across the following hand-written note mixed in with 'car for sale' and 'small cosy room for let' cheap print outs that littered the noticeboard. It read as follows '4 year old girl wants 2 lambs for Christmas. She will be spoilt.'...Only in Westport. Yet with that as my only source of amusement, I headed to bed early and was glad to leave early the next day, vowing never to return again.

After another small-town stopover at Lake Mahinapua, we headed for Franz Joseph and the snow-capped mountains of the Southern Alps. The views on arriving were utterly spectacular. We were immediately confronted with the grandeur of the South Island and with snow-topped mountains in the background and a welcoming town in the foreground, I felt an overwhelming sense of contentedness to be there, a feeling most definitely added to by the knowledge I was now a long way from Westport shudder. After spending the evening in hot pools and relaxing, we awoke the following day for another early start and a day on Franz Joseph Glacier. The glacier is the fifth largest in New Zealand, with its tongue stretching over six kilometers and its basin covering an area of twenty-five square kilometers. In other words, it's pretty damn big. In addition to being vast, it's also one of the fasting moving glaciers in the world, reaching speeds of ten to eleven metres per day. My words can only paint a limited picture, however, so below for reference, is the view I first saw when approaching the glacier - pretty breathtaking. 

After an hours walk over rock, we hit ice, fixed our crampons and started our way through the maize of glacial tunnels, waves and arches. In total we spent six hours hiking on the glacier, reaching at most, half of the way up the tongue (what you can see in the photo). Movement on the glacier is impossibly slow and disorientating and walking the length of the tongue takes some nineteen odd hours to complete - quite a mean feat. So, I was content with our effort and to be honest, I didn't really care what distance we covered, since as you will shortly see, the beauty was to be found in the hidden crevasses, pathways and tunnels, in its secluded secrets and marvels, not only in its overall grandeur. Anyhow, enough talking, here's some photos for you.

Six hours and one hundred and fifty photos later, we detached our crampons, walked into town and spent the evening celebrating a friend's birthday in a local restaurant. As far as days go, it ranks pretty high and I was sad to leave the quaint and scenic town. From there, we headed through the Haast Valley - again jaw-droppingly beautiful (the South Island has a habit of doing that to you) - to our destination for 3 days, the lakeside town of Wanaka. I've been here for one day so far and I can honestly say I've yet to come across a place I like more. It really comes as close to perfection as I have so far experienced - but I'll wait until next time to detail everything that makes this place so incredible.


Well, I think that's enough for now. I hope the combination of text and photos were to your liking and I'll be on again soon to keep you all updated. So until next time, I wish you all the best and pass on the following words of wisdom...

when you want to look cool - pose with a pick-axe.

Until next time all, keep on keeping on.

Kia Ora.