New Zealand: Wild & Wet on the West Coast

The Pod is still in tact, albeit a little damp. We ticked past 1000k and we are becoming well accustomed to kiwi culture and rural road etiquette. With every revolution of the wheel, the clouds thickened and the rain became more intense. Compass due west, we were headed for Haast. With nothing more than a gaggle of convenience style stores and a self service pump station - all this place seems to do is service the gateway to glacier land and the far west. But - strangely - for such an isolated place which seemed to lack even the most basic of technological advances, their public toilets were like something out of a sci-Fi movie. Electronic buttons acted as handles and voice overs encouraged you to aim straight and get your business done in a timely fashion for those loitering for their turn. Make sure you get your fix of future toileting if you are passing through anytime soon!

From Haast, the coastal highway continues to drive through torrential rains towards Fox Glacier. In a surreal landscape, where rainforests cost the cliffs and crystal clear waters break on black sand and pebble beaches, within walking distance - Glaciers flow from undulating mountains. The wild nature of this environment create some of the most extreme conditions - which help to explain why these are some of the least populated parts of this nation. Miles of emptiness are full of immense demonstrations of the power of nature.

None more so than that if Fox Glacier. The town itself is nothing exciting - a few cafes line the street and tour offices provide heli hikes on the glacier or guided walks on the ice. But - as the attractions suggest - the real appeal of this place lie in the expanse which is set back from the coastal town. One of the south islands largest glaciers, Fox Glacier powers through the local geology and provides a wonderful view, when the clouds lift.

Having sneaked in and out of a camp site in town, we made a quick escape to the bridge just out of town. Here is the start of the small hike to the glacier viewpoint. Having had our heli hike cancelled due to poor weather, I was relatively ambivalent whether or not to do the hike. But, as we traversed across moraine from hundreds of years of retreat, we were chucked out at the viewpoint. The view superb. The blue glacier stood towering over us - the small misfit river shooting out of its ablation zone. One not to miss if you are in town.

Next up - and only a 10k drive north - we were back in the Pod, this time with Franz Joseph our destination. A river road guides you to the car park - where hikers of all ability gather their belongings before commencing the three hour return journey. Crossing rivers and tramping on boulders - this hike certainly felt a little more adventurous. Deep in the gorge, mountain goat jump across waterfalls as the drizzle continues to fall. In the distance, the glacier comes into view. Massive layers of ice appear still, yet it is estimated this chap is moving at an alarming 5m per day.

Before long - you reach the point of obstruction. The barrier warns tourists to arrest their hike and not risk going any further. 750m from the glacier - still so far, yet the power of this natural feature feel so immense. You can almost sense the erosional capability of this beast. Everything becomes a little more apparent when you see it in the flesh. Waters flowed out of its base, whilst chunks of ice were cracking and creasing.

We soaked it up for a while before bumping into an American couple we had met whilst on the road. Ironically, the guy worked for an oil firm on the west coast of the USA. Luckily, we could all see the correlation between increased use of oils and fuels world wide and the drastically depleting levels of ice before us.

Glaciers ticked off - we found our way back into the POD. Blowers were on full and the windscreen wipers going like the clappers. The rubber is beginning to wear thin and the arms a little rusty - but she is still purring like a Ferrari and we had full faith she’d get us to our next destination. Hokitika.

An hour or so north and with one of the coolest names on the planet - how could anyone drift through this place? The road to get there is part of the beauty. Chiseled into the cliffs and at times worryingly close to rivers and almost plunged into the beach - every corner gives you another reason to smile and realize you are pretty lucky to be alive. When you eventually arrive you’ll be quietly impressed with Hokitika. For a small town, the ornate bell tower stands tall and is most certainly the focal point for this place. From here you can pretty much touch all the other elements of the place - making it surely one of the most navigable places on earth! Cafes are welcoming and the chippy puffs out some good odours. Despite a brief visit - the name still did it for me - I would come back again - if only to tell people I was on the way to Hokitika again.

From here, we rolled through built up greymouth and headed for Punakaiki. Destined for the famous pancake rocks and the world famous Pancake cafe - the pod seemed to roll a little faster and take the bends like a motorbike - screeching as the wheels passed through 30 degrees! Balanced at the summit of the coastal road - a short 10 minute hike from the roadside will take you to the top of the cliffs. Incredibly mystifying rocks come into view as you emerge on the top of the cliff. Never have I seen anything quite like it. Almost as though a talented sculpture has chiseled the headland - this place truly is remarkable.

Towering cliffs, which were created by the uplift of the two tectonic plates thousands of years ago, are layered with hundreds of flat, pancake like structures. To this day - it is still a mystery even to the most prolific geologists as to why this occurred. Various theorem have been put forward, numerous disqualified. My own can be thrown into the same bracket. In any case, the remnants of previous geological activity is something to behold and were it not in New Zealand, would certainly be a country’s natural highlight.

Come at the right time of day, when the tide is high and the skies are clear, water is forced to shoot through the naturally made holes. The result - blowholes, with water firing into the atmosphere. We were not fortunate enough to see this - but could only imagine how cool this would be. Every cloud has a silver lining though and with nothing more to see - it was on to the pancake restaurant for a little treat. We had surely early it having been pissed on from on high for the last three days...camping is hard in that!