West Coast

Tuesday, 17 March 8:38 pm

I had the most amazing weekend. M and I took a trip to the west coast, staying there for two nights and driving a big loop to and from.
The beginning of the drive Saturday morning was a little boring, both because it is through plains and because we had done some of it before when we were driving to Kaikoura. Eventually, though, we started coming into mountains, when it started getting pretty. We searched for awhile for a picnic spot, finally finding one good enough; it was by a bridge, over a large, deep, blue river. The bridge was on a side road that we had to hop a fence to get to, but figured it was okay because nothing on it said “no admittance” or “private property.” A few minutes down the road there were many more stops by the river, some even with picnic tables.
As we crossed the pass, which wasn’t very dramatic on this road, the plants started changing—soon instead of mostly bushes and a few deciduous trees we were driving through deep green forests, much more similar to what I’m used to in Oregon. It was very beautiful. The weather was very good, which helped.
After a four or five hour drive we got to where we were staying on the west coast, a little town named Cape Foulwind (good name, eh?). The motel at first was a little disappointing, as we hoped for an ocean view and could only see a little sliver of blue horizon through the plants. It had a hottub, which was very nice, and the owners were quite sweet.
That afternoon we took a walk, down to a little gorgeous driftwood, cliff-enclosed beach, then along the bluff of the cape. For some reason I was very tired, and the whole time just felt like lying down and sleeping, but it was still fun. That evening we had dinner at “the Tavern,” a bar/bistro next door to the motel, a place where when we came in the bartender asked our names and shook our hands, then introduced us to a few other people there. We ordered steak (mmmmm), then went outside to their lawn to wait for food.
While we were waiting, and later eating, three little girls played on the small playground that was in the corner of the lawn. They were adorable; two were 5 or 6, and one was three. They kept having problems getting on the sea saw, as it was very high up, so eventually M and I had the job of holding it down for them. At first we tried to explain and help them balance the small three-year-old with the larger of the six-year-olds, before giving up and deciding they would figure it out eventually. Soon they were calling over to us to help them get down from it. The three year old was amazingly adorable. The steak was yummy as well.
That night we went to the hot tub, which they had a little whiteboard so people could sign up for times. This meant we had the tub on a steep slope among fern trees and other green plants to ourselves, which was nice. Hot tubs are almost as good as pools, which are up there with trampolines.

The next day we drove 45 minutes south to Punakaiki. The drive was beautiful, and near Punakaiki reminded me very much of the Oregon coast; there were steep hills falling into crashing ocean, with the road hovering over the waves, the hills covered in a thick layer of green—the only difference was what the green was. Amazing as it sounds, there were palm trees mixed in with the normal forest greens of New Zealand; the weather there is pretty temperate year-round, so they have little microclimates, where some sub-tropical plants grow.
We took a short walk, then a longer one up a river. That walk was stunning—the trail hugged the side of a river bank, which lay in a steep river valley. We found a perfect picnic spot down a scramble to a rocky beach by the river, where we had a wonderful picnic. Later on the walk my mom told me about people she knew in high school; teachers, friends, old boyfriends. It was fun to hear all about that.
After the walk we went to see the Pancake Rocks, Punakaiki’s main tourist attraction. The paved path through tall, thick, coastal grass with lookouts to see the spiky layered rocks was strangely familiar, I assume because we saw them last time we came to New Zealand. They were neat, although there were a lot of tourists there. We went at high tide to see the blowhole, a place where at high tide water sprays into the air out of nowhere, but after 20 minutes of waiting in the sun leaned over a railing next to couples and teenagers speaking Japanese and Swedish, we got bored and left.
When we got back to Cape Foulwind, we drove around a little, and took a walk to see a seal colony (New Zealand really loves their fur seals. I must say, the babies are quite adorable). That night we went to the one nice restaurant around there, which wasn’t more expensive than even the Tavern, and sat nestled in a hill looking into a beautiful bay and the ocean beyond. When we went there earlier in the day to make a reservation, at first we almost left because the waitress said they were booked. It turned out nobody wanted to sit out on their large porch, which is exactly where we wanted to sit, so we ended up getting a very good seat. It was a little cold after the sun escaped behind the bluff, but was still fun. The food was amazing—my favorite was New Zealand mussles (the best there are), cooked in coconut milk, lime, and some Thai flavors—it sounds bizarre, but it was delicious. (B, if you read this, please don’t give this idea to T—we’re going to surprise him by serving it to him over spring break).
That evening we also went to the hot tub, then went to sleep.

The next day we had to drive home, sadly. The drive started off along the same road we drove on the day before, which was still beautiful. Eventually the road turned away from the coast and strait into towering mountains, some with sparking glaciers perched on the tops of them. The drive got prettier and prettier—it was spectacular. Although the distance going this direction was shorter, the drive took much longer—more like six hours (although it was supposed to take seven—our car accelerates very well). The road was much thinner and curvier, going over and through much more dramatic mountains. The trucks on the road went painfully slowly, but M is getting very good at driving like a Kiwi and passing whenever the vehicle in front isn’t going 110 km/h. The drive was just stunning—around the pass especially. The mountains were tall and steep, and there were huge valleys and gushing rivers. We stopped in a town called Arthur’s Pass, near the actual Arthur’s Pass on the road, where we were going to just stop and take a picture, maybe buy some fruit (which proved to be hard—we ended up with California oranges). That turned into a little walk, which in turn turned into a longer hike. That walk was the most beautiful I’ve gone on this trip. It at first crossed bridges over blue rivers in a large rocky flood plain, but soon shot up into the hills. The trail was so steep at least half of it was on well-made large wooden stairs, which was tiring was fun. We went up a couple hundred feet, then down a hundred, until we got to the base of a spectacular 100+-foot waterfall we could see from the beginning of the hike. It was supposed to take half an hour each way, which I think it did, but it felt like about five minutes. At the platform we posed for a picture we asked a pair up there to take, then took a picture for them, then they took a picture for the final pair on the platform. M sat down to peel our oranges, which were delicious—they were sweet and juicy, a perfect reward for the hike. The view was amazing—the waterfall itself was tall and white, gushing down the cliff side to a pool below, with fed a stream and a shorter waterfall right below the wooden lookout we stood on. The other direction we could see white-peaked mountains and green hills. Walking down was almost harder than walking up because it was so steep, but soon we were back in the car park.
The next couple hours of the drive were just as spectacular, at first going through brown fields encased with shattering brown peaks. The area was scattered with lakes that were so blue they looked fake—I imagined a painting with lakes that color, seeing how silly and weird they would look on a canvas in front of the tall brown mountains. Soon it suddenly turned New Zealand green again, with grassy hills. Eventually, though, we got into the Canturbury plains, which really aren’t that pretty. They’re nice for a little bit, because of the massive hedgerows and fat sheep, but get boring quickly. They’re only right around Christchurch, though, so we didn’t get too much of them.

And now, I am home. M’s computer broke, something with the battery—it only works plugged in. She found a place on it where it said battery, then had a switch that was switched to “unlock.” She locked it, so hopefully the comp will be all better now.

I should go to bed. Goodnight.