Nearly Neutral Travel

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! 😅

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!

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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.

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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.

We were very excited about the next stretch of the Great Coast Road, because we’d be driving right next to the sea the whole way (actually, I think this is the only section of Highway 6 that’s officially called the Great Coast Road – Oli may have got slightly ahead of himself a few posts ago!). Anyway, it was gorgeous and there were definite California vibes.

After our shortest day of driving yet, we stopped just an hour north of Hokitika in the village of Punakaiki, another recommendation from Michael (thanks, Michael!). In his words, “The area has a very Jurassic Park feel when it’s not raining.” So of course, it was pouring with rain when we arrived, but then again I think this is pretty much Punakaiki’s regular weather. It stopped for long enough for us to visit the famous Pancake Rocks, which are made up of horizonal layers of rock that are said to look like a stack of pancakes. They didn’t look at all tasty (lucky really, or I would have got hungry again), but they were very nice to look at all the same.

Punakaiki is also famous for having spectacular sunsets. Our campground was right next to the beach and we were parked up just steps from the sea, so we popped out in another break from the rain to catch a very moody sunset from the beach.

The next morning, the sun was back, so we headed inland on an 11km walk to explore the Jurassic Park landscape a bit further. It turned out we didn’t really need the sun for this walk, because the rocky mountains enclosed the valley so tightly that we were in the shade nearly the whole way anyway! But it was a beautiful route, particularly the first half, which passed along the Pororari River Track (this should have been the last half of the walk, but we accidentally walked it backwards – thanks, Oli!)

The only slightly disconcerting part was the sheer number of signs we passed telling us not to linger in certain areas because of the risk of rock falls. Looking up the slopes, we could see why! Anyway, it certainly stopped us from dawdling, which was lucky as it also meant we didn’t meet any dinosaurs.

Just up the road, we found an incredible spot for our lunch. It felt like we were nailing #vanlife!

After this, we were really on the clock. We picked up supplies and fuel in Westport, the last big(ish) town we would pass heading up the coast, and then raced the sun right to the end of the road, 112 km further north.

We didn’t quite make it to our destination before sunset, but thankfully the road by this point was a tiny single track and ran right next to the beach, so we still had a pretty good view.

At the very end of the road sat Kohaihai Conservation Campsite, which was run by the Department of Conservation. We’d decided that just for one night we would trade a power hookup and showers for sea views and seclusion, and we’re glad we did as the setting was incredible, right on the beach and with no one else around. Although we’d missed sunset by a matter of minutes (and only because a band of pesky cloud was sitting on the horizon), we still headed straight to the beach to greet the many sandflies who were eager to join us for a glass of wine and entire bag of crisps.

It was a slightly chilly winter evening without any heating, but being surrounded by kiwi calls and quite possibly the brightest stars we’d ever seen more than made up for it. We were nearly two hours from the nearest proper town at this point, so the starlight came in very handy when finding our way to the toilets, which also didn’t have any lights. We really were in the middle of nowhere!

The next morning, we awoke to the sound of the waves and took a walk along the beach to where the tannin-stained Kohaihai River met the sea.

After a lovely (albeit brief) offgrid adventure, we headed south back to civilisation, satisfied that we’d covered every inch of the west coast’s roads.

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.

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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.

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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!

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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.