 Saturday, September 24 (Day 23) Franz Josef – Pukekura –Greymouth - Punakaiki A twenty-something French couple, who are waving their arms around so much they look like they are directing Paris traffic, are in the hostel kitchen demanding some fifty-something Dutch bloke gives them hard cash for the food he has allegedly stolen from their meagre supplies. Two of my eggs have also gone missing overnight but I have to say respect to Dutchie or whoever else for pulling off such a daring raid without getting nabbed. Out of supplies, I stole a slice of bread the other morning from someone’s almost-full loaf and I have to say my heart was absolutely pounding mid-crime. Risk versus reward. The Inter City west coast special labours up through the steep mountain roads until it descends to the coast once again near Pukekura (New Zealand's smallest town with a population of '2'). The surf is literally pounding the shoreline and the rain is coming down horizontally as well as vertically. I think you could call it cats and dogs. Once we depart Greymouth, the most sizeable town in this part of New Zealand (population 10,000), the views of the Tasman Sea coast are transformed from four- to five-star. Thick, lush Rainforest, often clinging to cast mountains reminiscent of Vietnam and Thailand, rises high above the ocean below, which is littered with huge boulders and Sea Stacks. I am the only punter on the bus to leave the west coast service at Punakaiki where it is a 400-metre downhill stroll to the simply but aptly named ‘Beach Hostel’. I had pencilled in three nights of chilling here but was convinced to stay longer in Franz Josef by the YHA receptionist there. Never trust a pretty girl; I am instantly regretting my decision. This place looks like chill out central, and by that I mean the kind of place where you can totally unwind without the unwanted presence of too many dorm-mented Gap year types. The second-floor lounge has big wide windows opening out to the beach and pounding surf just metres away. I make a mug of coffee, grab my latest novel (which in truth I am struggling to get through) and snuggle up on the sofa, admiring the view between paragraphs about life in a South African shanty town and caffeine. I reckon it is about 10 minutes before the therapeutic sound of the crashing waves and the solitude of where I find myself sends me off into a deep, comfortable sleep. The only other person staying at the hostel is Matt, a 24-year old lad from California. He had planned to stay here for a night or two but, like me, he found himself instantly taken by the simple pleasures of Punakaiki. He has sorted himself a nice little deal whereby he works two hours each morning cleaning up the dorms and the kitchen, and in return he can stay overnight free of charge. Frankly, if I had no rugby matches to get to next week and no real travel itinerary, I would do exactly what Matt is doing and stay here for a week or two. For reasons not entirely clear to me, Punakaiki is the place where I have found the most inner peace since I first left Europe at the end of June. I feel mellow, truly relaxed and relatively untroubled here. I did have a ticket for tonight’s England match against Romania but, as you will have gathered, I offloaded it so that I could spend time travelling instead up the west coast of the South Island. As much as I would like to be in Dunedin again tonight, I definitely made the right decision with plan B heading up this way. There is a pub 100 metres away from the Beach Hostel. This also rates as my favourite pub of the tour to date. It is old school in all the good ways, with a friendly publican and staff and equally affable locals. The ale and grub also score highly. In Punakaiki you feel like you are staying on your own virtually undiscovered tiny island in the middle of the wild ocean. England are vastly improved against Romania with Mark Cueto running in three early tries, and Chris Ashton looking more like his exciting self. Matt joins me for the New Zealand v France match that has the pub packed with half of the friendly Punakaiki community. The All Blacks are different class to a very decent French side and look to me to be the best team here. Matt is one of the soundest people I have met on my tour so far. In some ways, he reminds me a bit of myself a few years back; or myself now minus all the baggage and demons. Beer, table football, a stroll along the beach in the rain, insightful chat and some happy smoke round off a truly chilled day; the crashing waves sending me off to sleep in seconds. England 67 Romania 3 France 17 New Zealand 37    
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      Big D described the Kea as being like a monkey with wings. I was so tired at the time that I slipped back into sleep and had a dream about a small monkey flying around my old apartment. But Big D's description was fairly apt. The Kea is a funny little creature that does indeed put one in mind of a monkey crossed with a parrot.
 September 5th, 2011 It is a 70-minute Jet Star flight from the north island to Christchurch with cloud-free truly spectacular views of the snow-capped mountains in the north of the south island. Yesterday, it was exactly one year on from the Christchurch earthquake that killed nearly 200 people. Clearly the city is still struggling to recover with countless aftershocks still rattling the nerves of locals. On the airport bus in I see three churches that lie almost completely destroyed and dozens of cordoned off empty plots of land where buildings once stood. I am only in Christchurch briefly to take the Inter City coach service a couple of hours north to Kaikoura but even the former bus station is out of bounds; a small shack and a roadside stop now the place where the buses run from. Originally England’s opening matches were due to be played here but the city simply isn’t deemed safe enough to host the games and no longer has the basic infrastructure needed, so they have subsequently been moved 5 hours south to Dunedin. Rebuilding Christchurch is no simple task; many parts of the city are only just being considered safe to live in once more and many months if not years of reconstruction await. Meanwhile, the earthquakes continue with some fearing an even bigger tremor is on the cards. I am told 80,000 residents have left the city already fearing the worst. It is truly pristine countryside on the journey up to Kaikoura although with the jet lag kicking in, 6pm feels more like 6am to me and I find myself nodding off to sleep and waking with a start on several occasions. Once we hit the ocean road around sunset the views are truly stunning: a wild surf crashes against the rock-strewn shoreline with cliffs soaring vertically into the heavens and a sea mist obscuring the distant horizon and road ahead. We arrive in Kaikoura in darkness and I track down Dusky Lodge backpackers. It is always a relief to find that you are the only person in your dormitory. I hate staying in dorms but at 14 quid a night, you cannot complain. Especially if you have got the room all to yourself and the night sky looks as magical as it does here from the rooftop veranda.  |
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