We are now mere days away from the end of our adventure in New Zealand. This was the trip of a lifetime, and I hope to return someday soon. You can get caught up on the previous installments here. There is still some good stuff in the Scratch & Dent section of the shop, but the lightly used products posted there have been getting snatched up. Head over there for discounted parts, gear, and books.
After Jenny and I finished our Helicopter tour of the legendary Franz Josef glacier and replenished our energy with meat pies washed down with coffee, we headed further South. Our first stop was a beach we heard might have penguins waddling around to gawk at. We arrived at Monro Beach at lunchtime, parking the camper van just long enough to have a quick snack of sandwiches and fresh milk, then started our hike down the trail in search of flightless, aquatic birds.
We hiked a mile and a half through lush, green, seaside forest to the beach. About a half mile in, Jenny and I encountered a pair of tourists headed back to the trailhead, speaking French or Russian or some other such silly language, and we did not ask them if they saw any penguins at the beach. Pressing forward, we arrived at Monro Beach ahead of schedule.
There were, unfortunately, no penguins to snap pictures of. No flightless, waddling birds for Jenny and I to admire from a distance. Instead of penguins, there were about a million tiny sand flies, and larger horse flies buzzing all around us. If we kept moving, they wouldn’t land on us and bite us. If we paused for even a moment, the vicious little creatures would set upon us and bite the living hell out of us. As such, we did not admire Monro Beach long for its rugged, penguin-less, parasite swarmed landscape.
Our next stop: another hike to another body of water. Our drive inland took us to Mount Aspiring National Park, and the Blue Pools. Once we arrived, we hiked 45 minutes to arrive at a suspension bridge that had been condemned and closed to hikers. In fact, the sign warned us that all the suspension bridges between this point and the Blue Pools were closed, and trespassers would be subject to a hefty fine. Since we had no desire to rack up any fines, hefty or otherwise, Jenny and I went down to the riverbank to look at the cold, clear waters of the shallow river. We joined a handful of like-minded hikers enjoying the river and watched what I can only assume to be locals hop the fence on the condemned bridge and cross anyway.
Having not getting to see what we wanted to see at two consecutive bodies of water, it was time to consider our next move. This particular day was very driving heavy after the excitement of the glacier tour, and we still had several more hours of driving ahead of us before calling it a day. Jenny and I decided to simply enjoy the river for a few minutes of rest before turning back and heading to the camper van.
On the road again, we pushed even further inland, towards the town of Wanaka. I enjoyed the scenery, despite seeing much of it from behind a windshield. New Zealand is chock full of pleasant things to see and do, and driving through the countryside was about as peaceful of a drive as I have ever undertaken. We saw few people on the winding mountain roads, and the peppy diesel in our camper van handled the rises, curves, and valleys with ease.
During our driving around both islands of New Zealand, our drives would force us to break out of one type of scenery and abruptly be confronted with some breathtaking view. After hours of driving, grey, rugged mountains would give way to sunny, sparkling sand beaches. Tall, dark pine forests would suddenly become wide open prairies. In the case of Wanaka, the mountains and forests of Mount Aspiring National Park suddenly gave way to a view of Lake Wanaka that literally stopped us in our tracks.
Jenny had been taking pictures of the scenery in the mountains from the passenger seat while I drove. I drove the camper van around a corner, and there was Lake Wanaka. We found ourselves on the East side of this pristine lake, staring at a mirror reflection of the Sun and the mountains to the West dancing across the still waters. I pulled our camper van into the next scenic overlook I could find, and Jenny and I took hundreds of pictures of Lake Wanaka and the surrounding area.
Thoroughly awed by this gorgeous lake, Jenny and I found ourselves a bit behind schedule, but unbothered by our timeline. We drove the road around Lake Wanaka to the town of Wanaka, where Jenny really wanted to see some “Instagram Famous” tree. I admit to being skeptical in advance of this particular attraction, because who makes a scraggly willow famous?
Apparently I was in the minority with my confusion over a famous tree, as when we arrived at “That Wanaka Tree,” there was a line of tourists trying to get a photo with it. I don’t get what’s so special about this tree, and even after reading the plaques and signs around it, and a bit on the internet, I still don’t get it. Some photographer took a stellar photo of the tree, and now everyone else wants a shot at the title? Pffsht. I took a shitload of photos of Lake Wanaka, none of this tree. Here’s one that Jenny took so you can spend your time in New Zealand looking at other things, like Weka, Kiwi, and maybe penguins.
Our last stop accomplished for the day, all we had left to do was grab a few provisions. We swung into the local convenience store, grabbed some pre-made sandwiches, fresh milk, and a six pack of Wanaka Lager beer. Happy with our dinner, Jenny and I high-tailed it to our campsite on the shores of Lake Pukaki (pronounced exactly like I had hoped it would be).
One of the reasons we picked this spot is it is a popular star gazing spot. When we arrived, the campsite was packed full of camper vans, pull-behind campers, and overlanding rigs. I pulled the camper van to an empty spot as darkness fell, and Jenny and I took the opportunity to star gaze while making our way to the nicest pit toilets of this adventure.
The night was chilly, dark, and clear, and the stars were out. You can tell, however, that the people writing the reviews exalting the star gazing are probably from light-polluted European or Asian cities. Or perhaps local Kiwis trying to mislead the tourists away from all the real good spots. Yes, there were stars out and they were nice, but you could see a fuller sky of stars from any farm field in the Midwestern United States. And compared to a cold, clear night in Northern Minnesota? No contest. (USA! USA! USA!)
Jenny and I ate our dinner outside, leaning on the camper van and looking upwards to see if the star situation changed. When we finished our sandwiches, we shrugged off stargazing and returned to the camper van for a drink. It wasn’t long after that we tucked ourselves in for the night. We had yet another long day of adventure ahead of us.
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