Picton is a very pretty, quiet and small town. For most people it is the gateway to New Zealand's south if they are coming from the North Island. For us it was first and foremost a place of a very unexpected but happy reunion as well as a big disappointment. The latter was the realization that we would not be able to meet up with our favourite Dutchman and good friend Tycho. He had trouble selling his van and I had to sort out the return of my bond (Australian bureaucracy funtions on the primitive level of an amoeba) so we just missed each other. The worst about the story is that I am STILL waiting for my bond and could have just had a beer with him...
We were however rather surprised to see two familiar faces on a free overnight parking spot just outside of Picton. Chris and Stef, who we got to know in Adelaide, were just getting settled as we pulled up next to them. Neither of us originally planned to go to NZ - and yet we met in this most unlikely of places and had a good nights chat.
We decided to head towards Abel Tasman (New Zealands smallest national park) where we experienced the most furious of welcomes in form of a torrential downpour. Spending the afternoon in the library and the night on a carpark in Motueka was thus our option of choice. After an early start the sun greeted us and we had a nice 30 km hike through dense rainforest, past golden beaches and turquoise waters.
Yet another reunion and two pints later (with a friend from Switzerland) we parked the van at the same location as the previous night. Just as we started to cook dinner a friendly ranger explained to us (very apologetically I might add) that we were not a self contained vehicle and thus not allowed to stay here overnight. On a side note he added (with a smirk and a twinkle) that he was the sole ranger this night and would not be patrolling North of our location. That was the direction we took after dinner. As luck would have it everyone was stopped by the police just north of the town. The officer made it clear to me (in a very likeable fashion) that he thought my reason driving at night was drink driving. He pulled out a device, about as wide as my fist, stuck in under my nose and asked me to count to ten. On a side note I need to mention that we blow into a small tube for alcohol testing back home. Still confused about how I should count to ten being gagged by this huge object I took a deep breath, tore open my mouth like a baby eagle prior to being fed and went for glory. The policeman hastily pulled back the device, visibly shocked, and was now fully convinced that I was drunk. A few explanation later I counted to ten - this time into the device but at a two inch distance. The screen said 'zero alcohol', very much to the surprise of the officer. He advised us to drive carefully and we reached our camping spot of choice 45 minutes later via a narrow, windy road.
The following day had the highlight of the South Island in store for us. A deserted, stunning beach with a low tide pool which was inhabited by a dozen seal pups. Inquisitive as they were the intruders (us) had to be examined by sniffing feet and hands before forgetting everything around them, chasing each other and playing seaweed tug of war. After two hours and empty camera batteries we reluctantly decided to leave - we could have spent days here.
Big pacific swells to the west and mountains to the east dominated the landscape in the following days. The coastline makes the Great Ocean Road look pale - the mountains and glaciers however are far behind the Alps. The combination was nevertheless special, at least for a Swiss.
Inland towns like Wanaka and Queenstown are almost carbon copies of some Swiss locations - mountains, lakes and temperatures below zero. If it wasn't for the architecture and language I could have been fooled...
On the east coast we were lucky enough to observe the yellow eyed penguins (only ~ 1000 left in NZ) coming ashore and setting up a spot to sleep mere metres away from us.
Christchurch was our last stop. Still damaged by the 2011 earthquake it was a fitting scenery to our slightly melancholic farewell mood. On one hand it was fascinating to see the power of nature and the reconquista of destroyed sites by pioneer plants. On the other hand individual stories and the hardship connected to it which could not be ignored.
Lovely Picton
We were however rather surprised to see two familiar faces on a free overnight parking spot just outside of Picton. Chris and Stef, who we got to know in Adelaide, were just getting settled as we pulled up next to them. Neither of us originally planned to go to NZ - and yet we met in this most unlikely of places and had a good nights chat.
We decided to head towards Abel Tasman (New Zealands smallest national park) where we experienced the most furious of welcomes in form of a torrential downpour. Spending the afternoon in the library and the night on a carpark in Motueka was thus our option of choice. After an early start the sun greeted us and we had a nice 30 km hike through dense rainforest, past golden beaches and turquoise waters.
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Impressions of Abel Tasman
Yet another reunion and two pints later (with a friend from Switzerland) we parked the van at the same location as the previous night. Just as we started to cook dinner a friendly ranger explained to us (very apologetically I might add) that we were not a self contained vehicle and thus not allowed to stay here overnight. On a side note he added (with a smirk and a twinkle) that he was the sole ranger this night and would not be patrolling North of our location. That was the direction we took after dinner. As luck would have it everyone was stopped by the police just north of the town. The officer made it clear to me (in a very likeable fashion) that he thought my reason driving at night was drink driving. He pulled out a device, about as wide as my fist, stuck in under my nose and asked me to count to ten. On a side note I need to mention that we blow into a small tube for alcohol testing back home. Still confused about how I should count to ten being gagged by this huge object I took a deep breath, tore open my mouth like a baby eagle prior to being fed and went for glory. The policeman hastily pulled back the device, visibly shocked, and was now fully convinced that I was drunk. A few explanation later I counted to ten - this time into the device but at a two inch distance. The screen said 'zero alcohol', very much to the surprise of the officer. He advised us to drive carefully and we reached our camping spot of choice 45 minutes later via a narrow, windy road.
The following day had the highlight of the South Island in store for us. A deserted, stunning beach with a low tide pool which was inhabited by a dozen seal pups. Inquisitive as they were the intruders (us) had to be examined by sniffing feet and hands before forgetting everything around them, chasing each other and playing seaweed tug of war. After two hours and empty camera batteries we reluctantly decided to leave - we could have spent days here.
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Baby seals playing on our favourite beach of Golden Bay
Big pacific swells to the west and mountains to the east dominated the landscape in the following days. The coastline makes the Great Ocean Road look pale - the mountains and glaciers however are far behind the Alps. The combination was nevertheless special, at least for a Swiss.
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West coast, top left: pancake rocks bottom right: lake Matheson with the reflection of Mount Tasman and Mount Cook
Inland towns like Wanaka and Queenstown are almost carbon copies of some Swiss locations - mountains, lakes and temperatures below zero. If it wasn't for the architecture and language I could have been fooled...
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Switzerland - like images in the centre of the South Island...
On the east coast we were lucky enough to observe the yellow eyed penguins (only ~ 1000 left in NZ) coming ashore and setting up a spot to sleep mere metres away from us.
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Damaged buildings in Christchurch as well as autumn (in March!)
Goodbye New Zealand - unfortunately our dance ended all too soon. But Adelaide, Perth and ultimately southeast Asia are waiting...
