Through the Gates of Haast and Beyond, with Andrew at the Wheel
First of all, let me just say how relieved I am that T ended up writing that last entry. I'm afraid I wouldn't have been able to write anything exciting about that day.
While the ladies were on their little wine escapade, I wandered around Wanaka with nowhere in particular in mind as my destination. And, really, I spent a good couple of hours sitting on a park bench staring out at the lake and mountains behind it.
Y'know, truly thrilling stuff to blog about.
Luckily, I have more to say about the following day.
We got a relatively early start the next morning, hitting up some place in town for coffees before starting the long drive to the West Coast.
By this point, I had gotten used to driving on the left side of the road, so I didn't need to concentrate quite as much, which allowed for a more entertaining bit of scenic driving.
Also, we finally got around to listening to some stand-up comedy and some music and stuff, which I was against at the beginning, since I was terrified of the whole driving thing. In retrospect, sure, I shouldn't have been, but it never hurt anybody to be a little cautious.
I don't know if that's true. Don't think about it too hard.
Anyhow, after we left Wanaka, we drove past a giant lake, up and down through the mountains. Little tip if you ever find yourself driving a big campervan in the mountains of New Zealand: Pull over frequently to let people behind you pass. It might seem obvious, and it might not even need to be said, but that small, common courtesy shouldn't be overlooked. You have no idea how frustrating it is to get stuck behind somebody in those mountains, which are too narrow and winding for an occasional passing lane, apparently.
After a few hours of driving, we arrived at the Gates of Haast, which is one of several passes from the Otago/Canterbury regions to the West Coast.
It's a cool little bridge on the side of a mountain, and it would have been a perfect spot to pull over and take some photos. Again, if you ever find yourself tooling around New Zealand in a van, check it out.
Unfortunately, we didn't stop, because there was a huge slip (what they call rock slides) there the week before we passed through, so it was all blocked off with orange cones, leaving only enough space to drive through.
Still, I figured it was worth mentioning, not only because it's a spectacular drive, but also because it has one of the coolest-sounding names ever. THE GATES OF HAAST.
After a few more hours of driving, we found ourselves on the West Coast. It's famous for being abundant in Pounamu, also known as "greenstone," which is used in all sorts of jewelry.
Also, for a brief run in the mid-1800s, somebody found gold in them there hills, and there was a mad Gold Rush.
Also, there are two glaciers on the West Coast, and we were fixing to walk on one of them. We bought our tickets upon arrival for the following day and then set out in search of our camping site for the evening.
In a scene straight out of "Top Gear Rally," we took a winding, narrow dirt road through the jungle, through dizzying twists and turns, for about fifteen-twenty minutes before popping out at a place called Gillespie's Beach.
Our campsite for the evening was literally a parking lot next to a drop toilet.
We took a wander along an old trail to the beach (passing by a ton of sheep along the way - - those things are literally everywhere on the South Island), and we found a bunch of old mining equipment used during the Gold Rush.
I guess those prospectors left in a hurry, because they didn't really bother cleaning up after themselves. Steph took a bunch of pictures. Here's one:
After hoofing it back to the van, we had our nightly meal time, consisting of crackers, cheese, fresh kiwifruit, and some tuna (or chicken) sandwiches. Meat in a can! Can't beat it. Actually, you can. We just didn't.
As we started eating, the sun started going down, and, after a considerable amount of arm-pulling, I convinced Steph to walk back out onto the beach with me to watch it.
I'm kidding. She agreed without hesitation.
I'm glad she did. Check it:
I think this might have been my favorite sunset of the trip. Again, Steph snapped this photo.
As she was taking photos of the sunset, I was busy marveling at how clear and fresh the air is on the coast. While doing so, I spun around to look behind me, to see where we'd come from, and I am glad I did.
In the distance, we had a clear view of Mount Cook (New Zealand's tallest mountain) and Fox Glacier, where we were headed the next day. As the sun dropped below the horizon, the reflection of its light kissed off the mountains in such a way that left me dumbstruck, a feeling New Zealand keeps hitting me with again and again.
Hard to believe we almost didn't see that. Says something about the sunset, doesn't it?
After a short while, the show was over, and we headed back to the van, back to our sandwiches, back to life, back to reality.
We got a solid night's sleep and hit the road early the following day.
We're coming for you, big guy.
