Adventures in The South

Our final few moments on the North Island were much more eventful than planned. Miscommunication meant we were a man down for a short spell when we should have been heading toward the ferry terminal. Then, with all three now on board, Team Cockpit shared a dual sinking feeling as the motorhome thunked along with an all too dreadful flat feeling. A flat tyre feeling to be more exact.

Having no choice but to continue for fear we’d miss our boat, we crawled through the centre of Wellington and into the boarding queue. It was then, on closer inspection, that the flat tyre feeling resolved itself to be something rather more round. Round and cup shaped. It seemed we’d managed to drive over a plastic cup and it had ingeniously lodged itself between our wheels!

Panic over, the rest of our crossing went peacefully. Ian and mum disappearing from time to time to head out on deck and admire the scenic delights. The weather wasn’t the best, but I think it did little to diminish the beauty of the Marlborough Sounds. Yet another of those places where I seem to have forgotten the awe inspired feelings evoked within me when surrounded by its beauty. The curse of a life spent consistently surrounded by new, soul stirring wonder!

A rather subdued atmosphere greeted us in Nelson the following day (the first stop on our South Island tour). It was a Sunday and the sun had forgotten to shine. Doing little to dampen our spirits however, we had a wonderful lunch in town before making our way toward the highlight of our day, the Queen’s Gardens. It was with surprised delight we discovered the neighbouring gallery exhibitions were open, lending a particular highlight to our day when mum and Ian had a chance encounter with the artist of their favourite painting.

By day two, we’d reached the West Coast and were blithe not to find any of the infamous grey skies which so often accompany it. Our whole coastal trip was lit from bright blue skies above.

We travelled from one natural phenomena to the next. The still unexplained ‘Pancake Rocks’ layered rock formations scattered along the coast, the creation of which continues to baffle scientists. The turquoise blue Hokitika Gorge and the majestic outline of the Southern Alps which drifted in and out of view. The road itself, a continually picturesque ride, flowing through rainforest, small hamlets, over rivers blue grey from rock flour deposits. Following the curves of the land and all the while never leading far from the expansive Tasman Sea, where glowing green waves crashed into the emerald blue depths below.

We visited the two famous glaciers, Franz Josef and Fox Glacier. A highlight for me, as views on my previous visit had been seriously hindered by insistent downpours. After viewing Franz Josef from a distance, the walkway sloping into the valley below and providing an elevated panoramic vista, we decided we wanted to see Fox Glacier up close.

Much less overrun, we arrived a couple of hours before the sun set, giving us just enough time for a return journey. It is hard to describe the thought process when viewing a glacier. My mind struggles to process the huge, blackened mound being the freezing cold intense force of nature it is. We were close enough for a detailed view, but far enough away that it almost lost its formidable essence, the front most wall looking more like the intricate work in a pencil drawing.

Unplanned as it was, the exit from the valley was as incredible as the view of the glacier itself. The steep sides creating a frame for the distant glow, clouds hovering above the walls tinted with ever changing colour.

We left the valley under fading light with just a short distance to drive to that night’s parking spot. Confusion ensued as the place advised pushed the bubbles in our spirit levels deep into corners and we eventually found level grassy ground a little way back along the road by the fading silhouettes of the Southern Alps.