Our driver from Picton to Nelson was named Scotty, and the joke I made to myself was that somebody beamed him up a long time ago. But he turned out to be a very conscientious driver, who took great care on a curvy road that hugged the cliffs, as it was an extremely windy morning in Picton. Once again, the life-lesson of not judging a book by it's appearance on Oprah. Or something like that.
Even the ferries had difficulty docking, one taking over an hour to make the final few hundred meters. The ferries are absolutely loaded with shipping containers, vehicles, and a few hundred people, so the mass is huge. Huge mass connecting with dock at a speed above the shock absorption point equals very expensive damage. Even the tugs had to struggle just to keep the ferries from crashing forward!
Nelson is another resort community, and as such has very expensive homes and little for the teenagers to do but cruise the town in their expensive cars. We got there rather late in the afternoon, so there was not much time to do more than find a grocery and visit the tavern across the road from the hostel (20 locally-brewed beers and ales.)
After being awakened at midnight by several other guests yucking it up in the common area, and not-too-politely asking them to make a different choice, I got up early the next morning to catch a coach to a water taxi about 1.5 hours down the coast. The taxi took us to to Torrent Bay, where we walked the last 14 km of the famed Abel Tasman Track. Abel was the first European to visit Australia ("discovering" Tasmania) and New Zealand in 1643 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abel_Tasman). 1643! What a challenge sailing must have been at that time!
I remarked out loud how satisfying it felt to be standing where Captain Cook and his crew may have stood, looking at the same ocean, same bay, same type of flora, and hearing the same birds. It was a really nice walk, what with the path weaving into and out of the forest and the sound of the surf fading and rising as the path returned to parallel the coastline.
That night was a very restful sleep.
The next day I left early for the Magic Bus ride to Greymouth. The highlight there was a tour of the Monteith Brewery. The pics I took are not worth taking up blog space, but are interesting in a typically weird, "Roger" kind of way. For example, the urinals were made from unusable steel kegs (sort of returning the beer to its source, as the tour guide said) and there was a motion sensor in the dunny (men's room, to you) that activated the flushing mechanism - in sequence, down the line of urinals. I have a video clip. Simple things fascinate me, and true to the stereotype of my former profession, the psychologist in me was interested in the scatological engineering of it.
After one brief night in Greymouth, a coal-mining town that smelled like it, we trucked on down the road to Franz Joseph, stopping in Hokitika to buy some greenstone (NZ jade) and get a coffee or morning tea (late breakfast).
Then the magnificent Southern Alps came into view, and we arrived in Franz Joseph in plenty of time to drink in the views before the clouds came in. I'm scheduled to do an all-day glacier hike tomorrow, and the rain is forecast to hold off until late in the day. I hope it turns out that way, because after a 45 minute approach walk, we will climb the ice face using a series of steps carved by the guides. Coming back down in the rain will be (sorry, I can't resist) a trip.
Tuesday, my time, I am scheduled to kayak Lake Mapourika in the late afternoon, so as to catch the sunset over the lake, etc. If it rains, so much for my first experience in a kayak.
Scotty.
On the way to the track.
A famous landmark, the split apple rock, off Yellow Point.
Bye-bye, water taxi.
Where we will be starting to walk.
It wasn't quite low tide, yet, so we decided not to test the low tide route. This shortcut saves a hour of walking, but if it is more than waist deep, you are taking a chance crossing with a small pack, a camera, etc.
Stilwell Beach, southward from Yellow Point and the Split Apple Rock.
Algae in a fresh-water stream flowing into Apple Tree Bay. Saw no apple trees.
The sound of the surf faded in and out, as the track emerged and re-entered the forest.
At this roadstead (a safe place for a ship to ride at anchor: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roadstead), one can see Nelson through these islands. Not me, but someone can see Nelson through these islands.
Near Punakaiki, the famous pancake rocks.
I wish I could have captured video of the terns. Their flying acrobatics were remarkable.
Kaiteriteri is famous for its low prices for pounamu, or greenstone. This jade is found locally and can only be "sourced" or mined by someone with Maori blood. If you find a piece on a track and are caught with it, big fine. This block is at least 20 inches tall.
In Ross, we panned for gold, and everyone is guaranteed to find some!
A radical change of scene: entering the Southern Alps.
The view from just outside my hostel. The glacier is below the right-hand "V."
Remember the zoom shots of Big Ben from Trafalger Square in London? I wanted to try it again here in Franz Joseph because I thought I saw a helicopter land near the top of a peak.
The top.
Closer to the top. Is that a copter just below the big rocky part?
Nope.
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