New Zealand Diary, Day 10 afternoon

Day 10, afternoon: Tragedy
First, let me assure you that no harm befell DW or me. Nevertheless, I have a sad story to tell you.

 After lunch, we set out for “Kaikoura Farm Park and Llama Trekking”. It appears to have been started as a llama ranch, which started offering multi-day hiking adventures using llamas as pack animals. Apparently they also began taking in animals that had been abandoned or injured. We have always enjoyed visiting zoos, and this attraction’s description promised the opportunity to feed and pet several different kinds of animals, including a fallow deer fawn. We were especially excited about this visit, even with the light rain that was falling.

To get there, we had to go up in the foothills on Postman’s Road, one of the grid that had been laid out when the area was settled by Europeans. After crossing a couple of intersections and a couple of dips maintained as seasonal washes, we came to a gravel driveway leading past a farmhouse to a carpark just big enough for a bus and a couple of motorhomes, in front of a largish shed that acted as the gateway into the farm park. The first animal we met was Jess, a female border collie who helped watch the stock. The young girl behind the counter told us we could go into any of the enclosures except the emus’, because they had a chick and were very protective. We paid the nominal entry charge and bought a couple of cups of food, and walked through the door into the farm park.

We were greeted by various fowl, including a couple of turkeys, and a fancy white chicken. The first enclosure held a pair of donkeys, and no other mammals that I could see. I guess those asses weren’t very sociable with llamas, or anything else. We went past a short row of trees, and there was Bambi, the fawn. We were told she was brought there with her sister when they were just days old, after their mother had been killed by a hunter. The sister became much too aggressive for the food, though, so they sent her to a regular deer ranch. Just off this area was the llama pen, where DW spent some time getting to know their different personalities.

Through another double gate was an area surrounded by smaller pens for other fowl, including white geese with goslings, and a single wallaby. There are no kangaroos in New Zealand, but there are wallabies, brought there by Europeans from Australia for food, and most likely sport. This one was probably hit by a car and brought to the farm park to be nursed back to health. He liked to be fed by hand, and loves whole wheat bread. They are so darned cute, and DW loved feeding and petting the little guy.

Other residents of this second large area included three standard black & white (Hampshire?) hogs, and a couple of hairy pigs, one of which was apparently a boar (segregated in a small pen), because he had tusks. We also met Barney there, a male border collie, who reportedly was Jess’s mate, sire of a couple of litters of puppies. He was a little more active than Jess, who was following us around, and seemed to keep the hogs in line as they tried to get up close to us so we would feed them. We both got our legs a little muddy from their rubbing.

Jess down left, Barney up right

At one end was the pen the emus were in. They actually came right over to the gate, with their chick behind them. The chick looked to be about 2/3 adult size. Although we were careful not to approach too closely, for some reason one of the adults became very agitated. It actually jumped over the gate, which was about 4' tall with a solid top bar. It didn't quite clear it, and landed in a heap, but quickly got up and started running first at the young man who was feeding the other animals and helping guide us, then at DW. I was quite a bit farther away, but started putting even more distance between the emu and me.

Barney’s instincts kicked in, and he started trying to contain the emu, barking and heading it off. Poor Barney. The emu would have none of that, and I presume (because I was looking the other way) it kicked the dog in the face with one of its ugly claws. Suddenly there was yelping, and Barney was running back and circling, then sat down. Somehow the young man got the emu cornered then back into its pen, and I went to examine the now quiet dog. His left eye was closed, and there was quite a bit of fluid strung down his muzzle. As I tried to comfort him, he lay down in the grass. My first thought was that he was in shock; I don't even know if animals do that, but that’s what I thought. I picked him up, since there was no way we were going to drag him, and carried him into the entry shed.

Meanwhile, the kids tending the farm park called the owner, who was out on a llama trek, on his mobile phone. They got the go-ahead to take Barney to the vet in town. DW and I stayed at the farm park for another 20 or 30 minutes, but the mood was more somber. We met one of the ponies on the place, and some hens with chicks and other white geese with older offspring. The rain was getting heavier, and with the sadness over Barney, DW and I decided to leave and go on to the next thing.

The next thing, we determined, was what was called a “forest trail” up one of the mountains NW of the township. We drove about a mile back down Postman’s Road, then took a left turn away from town. After about a mile-and-a-half, the pavement ran out and we were on a well-graded gravel road, headed up the base of the mountain. Just as we got to where we could see the end of the road, a herd of cattle started coming out from behind some trees and crossing the road. I surmised they were ready to be milked, which seemed even more likely as we approached and stopped, and I could see their heavy udders swaying as they walked.

There was a break in the line of cows, and we crossed their path and parked in the small area at the trailhead. The rain seemed lighter now, so we put our hats back on and started up the old, cowpie-dotted farm road that was now the beginning of the track. We hadn't gone more than a couple hundred meters, though, and the rain began to fall harder, and a breeze began to pick up. Even though we were in trees now, we could tell that we would be soaked if we stayed out much longer, and the wind would make it not much fun at all. Too bad: judging from the view on the beginning of the track, I expect the view from the top would have been breathtaking–if it weren’t overcast and rainy.

Kaikoura Bay upper left;
cattle path just before bend in road.

Besides, by this time we were beginning to get a little peckish, so we decided to head back to West End and see if we could get a good burger. (We couldn’t.) We ended up having fish & chips (DW) and chicken strips (me), then headed back to the hotel for a nightcap and rest. Yes, we decided that we liked Kaikoura, and the Kaikoura Boutique Hotel staff, so much that we would stay another night. (I should have tied up this particular loose end on the last post. Well, there it is.)

Shortly after 3am, we were awakened by a siren, of the stationary type. What with the recent seismic activity off the coast of Christchurch, my first thought was tsunami warning. A few minutes later, though, we heard a vehicle siren, and we decided the first one was a call for the volunteer fire department. I later confirmed this with Robyn, who said that sadly, most of the middle-of-the-night calls for them are car accidents.

Afterword: I emailed the owners of the Kaikoura Farm Park to find out how Barney was doing. They said unfortunately the eye had to be removed, but he was already adjusting well and almost back to his old self. They remarked, “we love intelligent dogs.”

New Zealand Diary, Day 10 morning

Day 10, morning: This is Summer?
We awoke hungry for a "cooked breakfast". We asked Robyn about a good place to get it, and she recommended the Dolphin Encounter's café, just about a block toward West End on The Esplanade. It was just over 200m, but it seemed like a long block. While waiting for our brekkie, we looked over the brochures for local activities. We learned there was a walking track around the end of the peninsula, with one across the middle to form a loop. We decided to give that a go after breakfast.

After stopping back by the hotel to put on sunscreen and pick up the camera, we set off down The Esplanade, and the boardwalk along the beach, away from West End and toward the end of the peninsula. After a short way, the boardwalk ended, and we climbed back up to walk along the road. Along the way we passed a council park with a playground, where a family was unloading supplies for a picnic. A couple of people were walking or running along the beach with their dogs. After about 1km, we passed the old commercial pier, and the Pier Hotel, with its large, glass-walled café half-full of patrons enjoying a late breakfast while watching the surf roll in. The road continued past a small residential area and around Fyffe Point, on the upland side of which sits the historic Fyffe House. Onward we went, past fishermen, past fishmongers with their steaming pots of crayfish, past signs advising people of size restrictions on the fish they catch. At the end of about another 1km, we reached a small carpark for the Kaikoura Peninsula Park, where we found the trailhead for the Peninsula Walkway.

The first few meters of this track didn't thrill me--a half dozen switchbacks up the side of the cliff. Once on top, though, the vista was worth the climb. Not only was there a majestic seascape with mountains behind the houses on the peninsula, but the top of the peninsula itself was a wide expanse of meadows and knolls, with rows of trees along the property borders. The meadows were populated with cattle, some adults, some yearlings. The knolls were populated with farmhouses and mobile phone towers. In the distance, we could see the “upper crust” neighborhood on the spine. The track crossed a couple of stiles where the pasture fence went all the way to the cliff's edge, and passed along the precipice where there was room.

Just before we reached the first stile, this little bird was sitting on a fencepost singing. He seemed unconcerned with us as we passed. Just like when I sing in the car.

About halfway around the walk, there was a small area with benches and a spur track that descended to a seabird colony. DW has more energy than I, so she took the camera and went down to the beach. She took a few photos before the birds decided she was lingering a bit too long and began to act a bit aggressively.

After she returned to the top, we continued on toward South Bay, passing more cattle on more rugged hills, and a small view point from which we could see kayakers paddling out to see if the dolphins would come around. From that point, the walkway was paved (for wheelchair access) down to the South Bay carpark.

Then it was back along neighborhood streets by the waterfront until, with the aid of the tourist map from Encounter Kaikoura, we found the track that went back across the peninsula toward our hotel. As we climbed the spine, we passed through a forest with small rivulets, finally emerging on top again between two pastures. At the end of a 150m alley, we crossed the road that rides the ridge, then went back down through another bit of woods until we got to the street above The Esplanade, just at the intersection of the street our hotel was on.

It's a good thing we didn't have far to go, because ever since we'd reached South Bay the sky had been growing darker. Just as we crossed the street and started down the block to our hotel, it began sprinkling, and we crossed the courtyard to our room under a steady drizzle. By the time we'd eaten lunch, it was a regular rain, but not windy. We decided it was a good time to take in one or two of the more touristy attractions we'd read about, and I'll tell you all about it—in my next post.

New Zealand Diary, Day 9

Day 9: What now?

We awoke with clean(er) clothes and a thirst for adventure. Blenheim is the tourism center for the Marlborough wine region, so we set off looking for the wineries and maybe some bicycles to ride between them. We traveled north from town a few km into Spring Creek, back to the east end of Rapaura Road. This road is similar to Highway 12 through Napa Valley with its acres (hectares) of wineries and the occasional small inn, but only about 10 km long.

About a mile--it appears the roads were laid out in miles before the metric system was adopted--down Rapaura Road was our first destination: the Boutique Chocolate Factory. We learned of it from one of those tourist maps, and thought after brekkie that would be a good place to start. Indeed it was. We sampled a few of their many creations, and ended up with a box of chocolate-covered toffee with crushed macadamia nuts on top. It had been made no earlier than the day before, and was slightly soft and chewy. Much better than any Heath bar I've ever had.

On down the road we went, looking for a winery with reds, rather than just whites. We found the winery we were seeking, and spent some time in their reception area perusing the literature they had for the region. I tasted a few of their wines; DW tasted one. The experience is not unlike the California wine trail, except that in California nearly all the wineries have started charging for tasting. But we had come to New Zealand to see things we could not see at home. So what were we to do?

We decided that vineyard tours and wine tastings were not what we wanted to do. We had heard of a Mecca for whale, dolphin, and seal cruises—Kaikoura—and we decided to go there. We figured we'd get there around 5pm, and since the holiday was kicking into full gear, we wanted to make sure we had accommodation before we arrived. We took the loop back into Blenheim (since we had to go there on the way, anyway) and stopped at the iSite in the old train station. A lovely, friendly, and competent young woman found a room in a hotel near the beach, in an acceptable price range. She said the hotel used to be called “Maxton's on the Shore”, but had just re-opened under new management as the “Kaikoura Boutique Hotel”.

Having stayed at the “Blenheim Boutique Hotel” the night before and being unimpressed with the room itself, we had some trepidation about the “Kaikoura Boutique Hotel”, but it met our other requirements, so we booked it. (The nice thing about booking things at an iSite is that they can generally convert the charge currency, so avoiding the foreign conversion charge from the card issuer.) Off we went again, this time south on Highway 1.

For about 50-60 km, the highway stays inland. This region, though, is not as green during the summer as the northern coast, with the way the storms get channeled off the Tasman Sea. In fact, it was downright brown. Not dead, like Nevada, but brown like the dried grass of the Texas panhandle or the plains of central Kansas. It was at first quite hilly, and we soon crossed a mountain pass with nice tight little curves. After that, though, the valley became wider and flatter, and DW took a nap. Since I was driving, there was no one to take pictures.

After a while, the road emerged onto the coast, along with the railroad, and we traveled together past beaches used for both recreational fishing and commercial sales of the local fish and “crayfish” (lobster). We passed the small communities of Wharanui, Kekerengu, and Clarence. DW awoke. Presently we came to Okiwi Bay and the Ohau Fur Seal Colony.

Viewing these seals from the lookout seemed better than when we were in the kayaks. We weren't any closer; in fact, we were probably quite a bit farther away. On the other hand, we were on solid ground, and it was much easier to work the camera without worrying about dropping it in the sea. Also, there were a lot more seals, including quite a few pups. We stayed there about ten minutes just watching them romp around on the rocks, and dive into and jump out of the sea. (Warning: If you don't turn the sound down, you'll hear my voice at the end of this video.)

After Okiwi Bay, the road goes through a small coastal plain with a deer ranch, then comes back out to the shore at the township of Kaikoura. Just at the north edge of town, there is an intersection with two roads that go out toward the shore. One goes back north for a short way, and leads to the docks for the whale- and dolphin-watch tours. The other is The Esplanade, which passes through West End where a good many shops, restaurants, and bars are, and continues south down the shore. It was down The Esplanade we would find our hotel. It was quite easy to find because their café is called “Maxton's”, and they have a sidewalk sign with that name on it on display during business hours.

I found the proprietor, a woman named Robyn, and gave her the booking voucher from the iSite. We learned they were in the process of remodeling all the rooms (of 10 or 12 total, I'd guess), and ours was one of the recently completed ones. She showed us to our room, and we were still not quite sure this was such a great place. But the bed was comfortable, and the hotel is literally across the street from the beach. In addition to the usual china cups, thin stainless ware, and hot water pot, there was a French press and coffee for it. The towels were thick and soft, and the toilet-shower room was of an ingenious design, so that it was fully ventilated without need for mechanical fans, but with no danger of rain getting in. Not that it was raining…

After unpacking a bit and freshening up, we started thinking about supper. There was a helpful restaurant guide on the small cork-board in the room. We decided to head for the Indian restaurant, but keep our eyes open on the way. Back up The Esplanade to West End, and then out onto Highway 1 again to the Indian place. When we got there, we had a look at the menu and the atmosphere, and decided to go somewhere else. I'm sure the food was good, but it wasn't really what we wanted then.

There was a pizza place next door, but that didn't sound good, either. We wandered back into West End and parked on the street to walk. We asked a young Australian hawking wine where we might find a good steak. He pointed down the street, and said our best bet was “the brewery.” I didn't understand what he'd said at first, but looking where he was pointing I saw the biggest place on the block, called “The Whaler”, a sort of outlet of the Monteith's brewing company.

We walked in to the bar and placed our order. I saw that they had apple cider on tap, and got a pint of that. DW ordered fish and chips, and I ordered the steak special, and we sat at one of the empty tables. And sat. We ordered at around 6:30. At around 7:15, we heard someone say they were going to start cooking. I'm still puzzled why they ran the kitchen that way, but the food was worth the wait. The cider complemented the steak, onion, and mushrooms perfectly, and the mashed potatoes had just the right amount of garlic in them. DW got two large pieces of fresh fish, and enough chips that she couldn't quite finish them all.

Hapuku head

Kaikoura peninsula

After driving back to the hotel we decided to walk along the beach boardwalk. We even took a couple of photos in the waning light. We liked this beach very much, and the peninsula to the southeast promised even better walks and views. Besides, we already had our room for the night. We'd decide tomorrow whether we liked it enough to stay.

New Zealand Diary, Day 8

Day 8: Time has Come…

We started out from Torrent Bay Lodge, and paddled past a largish bay called The Anchorage to the south. We then paddled around the head to the east and into Te Pukatea Bay, with a beautifully round beach. Whitey took Team Extreme on a short hike up to the site of a pa, or Maori fortification.

When we got to the site, the first thing Whitey pointed out was "a ditch." He explained that on one side of the ditch would be a wall about 8'-9' high, with a platform on the inside for the defenders to stand on to "chuck things" at the attackers. The pa was not intended for everyday occupation; it was a refuge for the residents of a village under attack.

From the position of the pa, which was logically the highest point on the headland, we could see our kayaks in Te Pukatea Bay, and the sandbar of Torrent Bay. There was a tight loop at the end of the trail, with a couple of tall trees in it. In one of the trees was a bird that made several loud calls. We strained to see it, but it was so well camouflaged we never did.

Back in the kayaks, and we started paddling around the lower part of the small peninsula, and south toward Adele Island. Whitey was hoping to be able to sail a bit, but the normal sea breeze did not blow. Instead, there was a bit of wind blowing in toward shore, creating just a bit of chop. Today those skirts were doing their job! We paddled down to Adele Island for a few more glimpses of seal pups, then paddled back toward shore and Apple Tree Bay.

If Whitey told us why it's called Apple Tree Bay, I didn't hear it, but I recognize the layout of it on a map. We had lunch there along with some gulls, and some ducks that flew in to greet us. After lunch, we paddled back out and along the coast. We paddled past Coquille Bay and Tinline Bay, and on into Sandy Bay, where we were encouraged to paddle into and backward out of a couple of shallow caves. We also had a bit of fun paddling around a couple of rocks jutting from the water just off the main cliff face.

To get past Sandy Bay, we had to paddle across a boat lane marked with buoys, careful to make sure no motorboats were traveling through it. We paddled on past the Otuwhero inlet, paddled past Towers Bay with its luxurious homes and condos on the cliff high above the sea. We paddled past Honeymoon Bay, where Split Apple Rock is. We paddled along Breaker Bay. We paddled through the channel between the township of Kaiteriteri and Kaka Island. Finally, we paddled up onto the beach at Kaiteriteri!

I guess my point is, we did a lot of paddling that day.

From there the bus took us back to Wilsons HQ, where we exchanged email addresses with our fellow members of Team Extreme and said our farewells. DW and I got back into the car and drove east--along the main coastal highway this time. We passed through Richmond and Nelson, knowing we wanted to spend some time in the Marlborough region, but unsure where we wanted to make our base. When we got to the intersection with the Rapaura Road, where we had turned toward Nelson five days before, we followed the signpost pointing to Blenheim (pronounced blen-əm, not blen-hyme as one might think).

Blenheim is a charming little township with a vibrant downtown. After driving around a bit, we found a room at the "Blenheim Boutique Hotel", the building probably about 35 years old, but with a lobby and restaurant fully updated to the 21st century. One bonus was that laundry facilities were available to guests at no charge, and the washers even had soap-dispensing machines attached! This helped greatly to eliminate the sea-scent most of our things had picked up. After a pleasant meal at one of the restaurants we had driven by, we had no trouble falling asleep in short order.

Even if we hadn't quite decided what to do the next day…