The next day Iain’s eye was much better so we moved on up the coast and made a short stop at Fox Glacier. Fox Glacier is one of two world renowned glaciers in New Zealand; the other is Franz Joseph Glacier. On the drive up to the ice fields there were signs indicating the year the ice was at that exact point. In the 1940’s the ice had been almost at the highway, it appears to have receded a dramatic distance. The parking lot was full of buses and camper vans and throngs of people taking the short hike to see the ice. The river bed was almost a kilometer across and right next to the parking lot. It was full of rounded gravel and debris from the glacier. We could see the effect of the ice on the sheer rock cliffs on the far side of the river bed. Iain was itching to climb them, but the piles of shattered rock at the base of the cliff put me off.
We followed the well worn path along the river bed and up to the viewing point. I’ll confess I was more interested in the rock fragments along the path than the piles of ice at our destination. After spending years watching mini glaciers form and recede at Diavik and in the canyons in Norman Wells I was under-whelmed by the ice. It was a unique experience to be so close to a mammoth glacier, to hear the ice calving as it melted and to see the river rushing out from its belly. But I found it less amazing than the break-up of the Mackenzie River. We took a few photos, laughed at the hazard signs and watched a guy hike off the ice and back to the trail head where we were. I was amazed that someone could wander around so blithely in an area where tourists are killed every year by falling ice. I was more astounded when I realized he had been out there with his headphones on. Shaking my head, I headed back to the van. We decided not to do the long drive up to Franz Joseph and pushed on up the coast.
Our destination was the small town of Hokitika. Hokitika is geared entirely towards selling pounamu (New Zealand jade). There are at least ten stores selling jade jewelry and sculpture and many of them had work shops where we could watch the pounamu craftsman at work. I was on a mission to find a unique necklace to take home as a souvenir and I dragged Iain through every store to find the perfect stone. Iain had a better eye than me; he found me a beautiful pendant of deep green pounamu that was unlike anything else we had seen. It was perfect.
We didn’t spend too long in Hokitika, we wanted to find a cheap campsite for the night. The highway took us inland and up towards Arthur’s Pass. Iain was adamant that I see the pass, it was our last chance to see Kea parrots and the highway through the mountains was an exceptional sight.
The drive reminded me of heading into Banff from Calgary. Rugged mountains, sandy grey scree slopes, coarse yellowed grasses and stunted trees, a dusting of snow near the peaks. The afternoon light gave everything a steel-blue tone in the shadows of the mountains. I watched the scenery pass by outside the windows expecting to be spit out into the praries at any moment. Iain and I hadn’t had to use the heater very often but I was grateful for the warmth on my feet as we climbed higher and higher towards the pass.
We were finally driving above the tree line, up a causeway that crossed the pass itself. We pulled off the highway to a lookout point, where we could see back down the valley we had so recently climbed up. As we pulled into the parking area there was a Kea pulling sentry duty on the welcoming sign. This was the bird I had waited so long to see!
When I was very young a friend of my aunts had brought my brother and I each a book from New Zealand. Adam’s book was about the yellow crested penguins and mine was all about the Cheeky Kea parrots. I’ve never forgotten the book or my desire to see one of the birds up close. I was thrilled to see one so quickly upon our arrival in Arthurs Pass! As soon as we stopped the van two of the bold birds fluttered up to the guardrails where we had parked. They eyed us up for a few minutes then launched their sneaky attack on our poor vehicle! They work in teams of two or three, while one bird is entertaining you the other one or two will be sneaking around back to rip and tear at anything made of rubber or plastic. Our mirrors, tires, rubber window seals, antenna were all fair game! One of them noticed a shoelace dangling down from the sliding door and spent a good ten minutes wrestling with it!
Kea are alpine parrots, they are quite large with iridescent sage green plumage. They have intelligent eyes and sharp, hooked beaks that wreak havoc with camping gear and vehicles alike. We only spent a half hour watching three parrots entertain the travelers in the parking area, then the howling winds became too cold and we had to head off. The Kea lived up to ever expectation I had of them and while I would have loved to watch them for days I’m sure amusement would quickly turn to exasperation when the van was chewed to shreds!
We drove down through the town of Arthur’s Pass and out of the park until we came to a DOC campsite at Lake Pearson. The site was beautiful, situated on a large lake that was home to multitudes of ducks, geese, swans and other migratory birds. We arrived at dusk and found a quiet grassy corner to watch the stars come out. It was cold when we arrived and the night continued to get colder. I wrapped myself up in our two sleeping bags while we were cooking dinner and we pulled out all our wool and fleece clothing to wear to bed. We could see our breath in the van that night and it seemed to take hours to warm up. I was very, very grateful for all the Mont Bell gear Andrew had given us, without it we would’ve been two popsicles the next morning.
The day dawned overcast but warm and we lay around in bed reading until it started to drizzle. We thought about spending another night at Lake Pearson but after the cold night before and the dreary weather we headed down the road again. We were also tired of being accosted by silly stalking ducks. All morning they would slowly waddle towards Iain and when they reached him they would start quacking away, begging like puppies. We would shoo them back to the water, but within the hour they would be back. Obviously they were used to getting scraps.
On the way out of the mountains we pulled in at a ‘point of interest’ Cave Stream park. The area was mostly limestone and the rock was riddled with caves. Cave Stream was just what the name implies – a box cave with a stream running through it. During the dry season it is possible to walk upstream through the cave, all you need is a flashlight and a desire to explore.
It was spitting with rain and cool outside when we pulled into the parking lot. I was really wishy-washy about going through the cave system, but Iain had done it a few years previously and really enjoyed it. After taking a short walk around we decided to grab our flashlights, put on some wetsuit gear and give it a try. We saw a youth group heading down in spelunking gear so I figured if it was safe enough for kids it would be safe enough for us!
The water was nearly waist deep when we entered the cave; we could hear the laughter and catcalls from the boys ahead of us as we splashed through the cold water. The mouth of the cave was fairly wide with smooth undulating sides worn away by the rushing water. Soon enough we were in complete darkness with the cold humidity surrounding us and the water sucking at our feet. The cave was quite narrow in sections and we frequently had to climb up between rounded boulders, against the current, gaining elevation in the heart of the hillside. About halfway through the hike I realized I was more claustrophobic than I thought. We had passed the school group and the only thing I could hear was the splashing water and our footsteps. At times the current seemed to speed up and my imagination ran rampant. When we finally came to the exit I was quite happy to see the sunlight and while I was glad I had gone through the cave I was not eager to do any spelunking in the future.
We dried off, and drove off, deciding to head all the way to Christchurch for a burger (they have GLUTEN FREE burgers in this country!!!) and some time at our favorite free camping spot. We made one more quick stop at Castle Rock to check out the funky rock formations but it was too late in the day to do any climbing.
Burgers, beer and sleeping with the waves crashing behind us on Sumner beach brought us full circle. It felt like we had come home.
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