Sunday, February 26, 2006 - Nelson to
Greymouth, Including Buller Gorge
7:53 a.m. A bell chimed in town 19 times.
Why 19? Is that Nelson code for it's Sunday
and you only have seven minutes left to get
to service? Strange. Just before 10:00 the
bells rang so many times I thought I might be
in Amsterdam. Bells, bells, bells - the
maddening bells! We got up and drank coffee
on the veranda. It was another beautiful
day.
10:15 We headed southwest out of Nelson
through wine country. We had a long day ahead
but wanted to enjoy our room till the last
possible second. Standard check-out time in
New Zealand is an early 10:00 a.m., and they
really start hovering around your room as
that time approaches.
We stopped at Buller Gorge, home of New
Zealand’s longest swingbridge (as seen on
"The Amazing Race"), 110 meters across. It
was cool, but not nearly as high, long, or
scary as it looked on TV. The bridge is 17
meters above the river.
Buller Gorge swingbridge
On the far side of the bridge we took a
15-minute loop walk through the bush along
the White's Creek fault line, epicenter of
the 1929 Murchison earthquake, and along the
Buller River.
Tom and I rode back across the gorge on
the 160-meter Comet Line flying fox. We
hooked in together for a tandem ride because
the more weight on the line, the faster you
go! Very fun, but again not as scary as it
appeared on television.
Buller River
The road from Buller Gorge to Westport
passes through some dramatic bush and
mountain terrain. Hawks Crag, an overhang
barely high enough to fit a bus through, was
seemingly hacked through the rock by sheer
force of will of the tough west-coast road
workers. The narrow roadway was plenty wide
enough for our rental car, but not nearly
wide enough for two cars to pass each other,
and you can't see the whole thing from where
you start across. I'm sure glad we didn't
meet any opposing traffic here!
Driving through Hawks Crag
Westport, population 4,800, is the main
town at the northern end of the west coast of
the South Island. West of Westport at Cape
Foulwind, a fur seal colony lives on the
rocks of the Tauranga Bay seal colony. We saw
seals, seal pups, agave plants, and beautiful
scenery.
Tauranga Bay
Sleepy seals
Westland, as the west coast region is
called, is a narrow stretch of land squeezed
between the Tasman Sea and the Southern Alps.
It is no more than 70 kilometers (43 miles)
wide at any point. In fact, no place in New
Zealand is more than 80 miles from the sea.
The road south from Westport offers some of
the most gorgeous coastal scenery in the
world - and hardly any people. South Island's
population is less than a million people,
just over 30,000 of whom live along the west
coast.
Toi toi native grass / Penguin crossing
From Irimahuwhero Viewpoint
The main tourist attraction between
Westport and Greymouth is Punakaiki and
Paparoa National Park, best known for the
aptly named Pancake Rocks. At high tide there
are supposed to be some impressive blowholes,
but we were there at low tide. No matter. The
rocks themselves are sufficiently mesmerizing
to warrant a visit. A 15-minute loop walk
leads around the rocks and blowholes.
Pancake Rocks
Puakaiki Surge Pool, low tide
The native plants near the Pancake Rocks
were very interesting to me, and I kept
feeling them to convince myself they were
real. This is how I stupidly came into
contact with some kind of Kiwi poison ivy. It
itches! I had it all over my left hand and a
few spots on my arm. My pinky swelled up so
big I thought it might explode. I needed to
put my hand on ice, but ice was hard to come
by, so I stuck it in cold water whenever I
got the chance over the next few days.
Where's the poison ivy?
Arriving in Greymouth around 5:00 p.m., it
seemed like a ghost town. Honestly, not a
soul was in sight. I know it was Sunday, but
gee whiz. It was almost the same at Duke
Backpackers hostel. The reception area was
vacant, but we soon found an employee who
showed us to our tiny double room with
(hooray) our own bathroom. Most of the guests
were Israelis, as Duke's is owned by an
Israeli kibbutz, and all signs in the hostel
are in both English and Hebrew. It's BYO
towel, which seems to be a running theme, but
it's an okay place and we were happy with it.
We found a Subway that was open for dinner,
and that's all we needed. All we'd had today
was chips and peanuts, and we were
hungry.
Looking through our various reservation
information, I suddenly realized I was
supposed to have reconfirmed our
accommodation for tomorrow night a week in
advance. Oh, no! We're to stay in the tiny
town of Okarito, and if our reservation falls
through, we're out of luck. I located a
couple of pay phones across the street from
our hostel but had a horrible time placing a
call. The phones supposedly took credit
cards, but they rejected all of mine. One of
the phones also accepted coins, but it didn't
say how much a call cost, and in any event, I
didn't know if my call was local or long
distance. After a 20-minute ordeal, I finally
managed to call at 8:10 p.m., ten minutes
after office hours. I left a message. We'd
have to try again tomorrow while they're
open.
After the phone fiasco, I needed a drink.
Duke's also has a bar, and Tom and I had each
been given a coupon for one free beer when we
checked in. Of course, we didn't stop at one.
That's how they get you! A draught beer was
NZ$2.90. We met a couple of cool Kiwis, Dean,
an importer-exporter living in Vietnam, and
Grant, a local bouncer. Grant bought us a
"bloodshot," an unlikely mixture of sambuca,
tequila, and Tabasco sauce. It was actually
pretty good. At 11:30 they called last call,
and as we were leaving, the Israelis started
flooding in. Apparently it was last call for
everyone but them!
Tom Goetz's
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