Dophins and waterslides (not dolphins on waterslides!)

Reluctantly, we left behind the stunning Kohaihai Conservation Campsite and began our journey back towards Christchurch. Not wanting to rush this leg, we broke the trip with overnight stops in the towns of Murchison, Hanmer Springs and Kaikōura en route.

After overnighting next to a beautiful river in Murchison, we realised we needed to fill up on fuel before navigating the Lewis Pass over the Southern Alps. Easy, you say? Well…

First, we investigated a truck stop, and had already prepaid for $200 of fuel before realising the nozzle wouldn’t fit in our vehicle. 😢

Next, we tried a normal fuel station, but here I only succeeded in getting the nozzle stuck in our van. 😰

With difficulty, the station attendants removed the stuck nozzle and were then keen to demonstrate just how straightforward it should be. Instead, they pumped fuel in 10-cent increments before agreeing that something was definitely wrong. 🤯

Aha, not so easy after all! Although we were delighted the problem wasn’t us (for once), we still didn’t have any fuel… By this point we’d had quite enough of Murchison, so we skipped town and drove 80 km to the next fuel station where we finally managed to fill up. Phew! 😅

Our site in Murchison right next to the Buller River

After this debacle, we proceeded over a thankfully-not-very-snowy Lewis Pass to Hanmer Springs.

The town itself didn’t feel anywhere near as remote as we had expected, and instead we found a pleasant, comfortable and laidback mountain town centred around its namesake hot springs.

We’ve come to realise that New Zealand takes its pies very seriously. So when we happened across the PJ Pies stand with our stomachs rumbling, we deemed it the morally right thing to do to check out its offering. Even at this little stand, there were still eight or so flavours on offer, with Sara opting for BBQ brisket while I went with a pork and hoisin pie. Both were deep fill, very tasty, and Sara’s might have made it into her top 10 pies ever. Even the local birds had developed a taste for PJ’s signature offering.

With our stomachs full, we purchased tickets for Hanmer’s main attraction – its hot springs. This consisted of 22 outside thermal pools, each with a subtly different theme and water temperature. With an English-speaking welcome, clear norms on swimwear, gender separated changing rooms and mixed bathing, the whole process felt almost disappointingly straightforward compared with our confusion and uncertainty at hot baths across Kazakhstan, South Korea and Japan.

In addition the beautifully relaxing hot pools, the springs also featured a couple of slightly incongruous but thoroughly enjoyable water slides. Since we didn’t have our phones with us in the hot springs, I’ve done my best to recreate the layout of two of the slides below:

Clear? Probably not. But if you imagine the first slide was like being flushed down a toilet bowl, and the second like being hurled towards a wet skate ramp, you’re probably most of the the way there.

Having expected the slides to be full of screaming kids, we were surprised to find them almost empty. The only other folks using them were a couple in their 60s, who seemed to be having the time of their lives. Not only were the slides quite a bit faster than we’d expected, but they also required climbing six or so flights of stairs to get to the top. I couldn’t help but think – these folks are who I want to be when I grow up!


Beyond Hanmer Springs, our last overnight stop on the way to Christchurch was the seaside town of Kaikōura, famous for its seafood and marine wildlife. We cruised straight through the town on the hunt for a Seafood BBQ Kiosk located right on Jimmy Armers beach. While the seafood menu was impressively large for a tiny kiosk, we were keen to try the town’s speciality; crayfish. Everything was freshly caught, grilled right in front of your eyes, and beautifully presented with a simple lemon garnish, rice, salad and garlic bread. There was even a drinks cart next door selling New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc for Sara. Bliss.

In an attempt to work off some of some of the calories, we went for a walk atop the cliffs of the Kaikoura Peninsula. Not only was the scenery dramatic, but it was the perfect vantage point to watch the colony of seals snoozing on the rocks and playing in the waves below. There must have been hundreds of them spread around the peninsula, having made this spot their home due to the broad biodiversity present at the meeting point of northern (warm) water and southern (cold) water. We later learned that an earthquake in 2016 resulted in a major coastal uplift, exposing a plateau of rock that had previously been underwater. The seals seemed delighted with their home improvements!

As if the day couldn’t get any better, we spotted a pod of dolphins just off the coast as we arrived back at our camper van. I’m not sure what they were celebrating, but many were leaping clear out of the water in beautiful arcs. Some were even performing full somersaults in the air, as if they were practicing acrobatics for a circus performance. It was quite unbelievable to see this in the wild, and we almost had to pinch ourselves to check it was really happening.

Look closely for the two somersaulting dolphins close to the horizon!

As we headed back to Christchurch, we had quite mixed feelings about dropping off the camper van. On one hand, we’d loved the freedom it had afforded us, and this felt like a quintessential NZ experience that we just couldn’t miss. On top of that, the camper allowed us to cook for ourselves each night, which we’d really missed while staying in hotels and short-stay Airbnbs. On the other hand, we were looking forward to a warm and comfortable bed with an en suite bathroom, which we’d begun to miss over the past 12 nights.

Overall, we had a great experience in the camper van, were very happy with our choice of vehicle, and were consistently impressed at how straightforward it was travelling 2185 km around New Zealand’s South Island.

Pedalling the West Coast Wilderness Trail

We arrived in Hokitika with just enough time to hotfoot it to the beach for sunset, accompanied by the obligatory glass of wine and pre-dinner nibble. Despite being just a stone’s throw from the town centre, the beach was empty save for a few dog walkers, which I still struggle to get my head around given its flawless setting.

As with Ross and Arrowtown, Hokitika contains a handful of restored gold rush-era buildings. However, Hokitika also has lots going on in the present, and the town boasts plenty of restaurants and cafes, and also plays host to a number of cultural events too. For example, we arrived on the eve of a 100 km ultramarathon, which concluded on the beachfront promenade.


I’m not sure whether it was inspiration from the ultramarathon or guilt from all the Tim Tam Slams (we’ve discovered that they come in 20-biscuit family packs, which we can polish off in three days!), but we decided to spend a day getting a taste of the West Coast Wilderness Cycle Trail.

Controversially, the section we cycled barely followed the coast at all, and instead started by weaving its way through forest on what felt more like mountain bike trail than a rail trail.

The forest trail led to a bridge over a perfectly still lake, stained nearly black by tannins – an organic substance found in some barks and plants. Despite not being named as such, this lake’s reflective qualities surpassed both the Milford Highway’s mirror lake and Lake Matheson. We had great fun taking photos of the very confusing perspective – check out the last photo below, which was taken looking straight down into the lake from the bridge.

The route continued along a boardwalk, which while beautiful, posed quite the photography challenge. With no safety barriers, Sara still took the risk of photographing while cycling, and somehow managed to avoid both dropping her phone and cycling off the edge into the wetland. 😬

Determined to see the sea before turning around and heading back to Hokitika, we pushed on to the tiny village of Ruatapu, which I spotted on Google Maps contained the encouragingly named “Beach Road”. We followed this track and traversed some sand dunes to find yet another huge, sandy, wild and empty beach, which made the perfect spot to enjoy our lunchtime purchases from The Hokitika Sandwich Company. I think Sara might have won the lunch-off, with her pastrami and havarti sandwich, containing plenty of aioli, mustard and salad, although both sandwiches seemed to evaporate shortly after we opened them!

On the way back to Hokitika, we stopped at the Tree Top Walkway cafe for a quick coffee (and a cheeky Tim Tam Slam, of course). Just as we were leaving, a handful of silver-haired e-bikers turned up, one of whom immediately struck up a conversation with Sara and heavily recommended e-bikes over our traditional cycles. Searching for something polite to say that didn’t involve the word ‘cheating’ (we’re still very bitter from our rivalry on the Otago Central Rail Trail!), Sara told him that we needed the exercise because we eat far too much chocolate. He immediately replied, “Oh, but you need to pedal these too!” This really made us smile since it was one of two conversation topics that always seems to come up when we speak to the e-biker crowd. “So I hear,” Sara replied as we cycled off, “Next you’ll be telling us how rarely you need to charge the battery!” thereby checking off the second conversation topic.


Arriving back in Hokitika, we returned the bikes and celebrated with fush & chups in a ship-come-picnic-spot at Sunset Point. Not only was this a very comfortable spot (the ship even had lighting and a heat lamp!), but it also acted as a memorial to the ships that had collided, wrecked or run aground just off Hokitika’s shores. This seemed to happen with alarming frequency, peaking at one incident every 10 days in 1866! Fortunately, our ship was in dry dock on top of the causeway, so we managed to avoid adding to such concerning statistics.

After sunset, we popped into the Glow Worm Dell, a woodland walk where you can spot the light of thousands of tiny glow worms in the trees. However, the glow worms don’t like light, so imagine stumbling around on a rough track in the pitch black with a handful of other people all doing the same. Somehow we managed to avoid any direct collisions, which was lucky as we only learned on the way out that we should have been keeping to the left of the path. To be honest, this would have been a bit tricky anyway, given we couldn’t see the path!


Satisfied with our 42 km taste of the West Coast Wilderness Trail, we returned to our camper van with an ambitious plan to make it to the end of the Great Coast Road the following day.

Joining the Great Coast Road

After a few quick errands in Queenstown (the biggest city for some distance) we set out towards Haast on the wild west coast.

Our first stop was in Arrowtown, a beautifully restored gold mining town, which was no stranger to tourism. We joined the other day-trippers in taking photos along the town’s main street, which looked like it had been lifted straight out of a western movie. We then plonked ourselves down in the sun with a cone each of Hokey Pokey (vanilla and honeycomb) ice cream. Sara swears this Hokey Pokey was way better than the first time we tried it in Akaroa, although I think it’s just the first time she had a cone to herself.

Arrowtown is also famous for the preservation of its Chinese settlement located just outside the main town. This settlement was home to many gold mining immigrants, who were invited to New Zealand to work in gold mining and hoped to earn their fortune. Many ended up staying even after the gold boom, which was particularly surprising given the discrimination that they experienced, including verbal abuse, racist newspaper articles, and discriminatory government policies. In 2002, the New Zealand government officially apologised to the Chinese community for their treatment.

Back on the main road, we passed the iconic Kawarau Gorge Suspension Bridge, built in 1880 for access to the goldfields. However, after traffic was moved to a new two-way bridge in 1963, it became the world’s first commercial bungee jumping site. We watched one guy throw himself off the bridge before quickly concluding that it was our budget stopping us follow suit, and nothing to do with fear.

That evening, we stayed in the lakefront town of Wānaka. Maybe this says something about the town itself, but one of its top attractions is a tree which appears to be growing straight out of the lake. We enjoyed a cold but sunny morning walk along the lakefront to see what all the fuss was about, and with a typical “huh”, confirmed that the tree does, indeed, exist. The best bit was actually watching other people’s photoshoots in front of the tree – we just couldn’t compete. Instead, we took the obligatory quick selfie, and got back on the road.

As much as we’ve enjoyed taking public transport over the past few months, we’ve also missed the option of stopping on the spur of the moment as we pass a worthy-looking detour. And it was exactly this reason that made us pull over as we approached the Lake Hawea Lookout, which consisted of a single picnic bench with absolutely breathtaking views across the glistening lake. After enjoying our lunch, it felt only right to top it off with yet another Tim Tam Slam.

That night we stayed in the frontier town of Haast, which to be honest was less of a town and more of a gas station, a pub and a holiday park. We’d read mixed reviews about the owners of our holiday park, who appeared to shout at visitors for the most minor faux pas. For this reason, Sara opted to stay in the van, and sent me to the site office to check in. I told Sara that it would be fine and I’d just turn on the charm. She looked extremely doubtful, but I swear, I nearly forced a smile out of the site manager.

Still, the site was only a stone’s throw from Haast beach – our first proper look at the wild west coast. Standing on the stunning but completely empty beach that stretched for miles in both directions, it became clear that we’d left the Queenstown day-trippers well behind, and this was where Great Coast Road really begins.