Hong Kong

After a long, long time on planes we finally arrived in Hong Kong.  A quick bus journey took us from the airport to Anna’s apartment where we’d be staying.  Anna was out at a gig, and we were both so knackered we went straight to bed and had our best night’s sleep for weeks… in a real bed… with pillows and everything!

We caught the ferry into the centre and were immediately completely overwhelmed by the number of people, the buildings and the traffic.  If ever there was an opposite to New Zealand, then Hong Kong is probably it.  We spent most of the first day just wandering around and experiencing the mayhem of the city.  We met Anna in the evening for a drink and some food and then headed back home.

On day two we headed for Kowloon to see a slightly different side to Hong Kong.  There were still plenty of skyscrapers, shops and people but it was all (how can I put this politely)… ‘less polished’.  Lou wondered some of the local markets (including a street of bird sellers), while I went around the science museum (manic).

On our final day, the clouds finally lifted and we made our way up the mount to over look the city.  We caught the railway up (steep!), walked around a bit at the top (predictably there was a shopping mall at the top) and then walked back down to the centre (steep).  After a quick bite to eat, we headed back to Anna’s to grab our stuff and head to the airport to fly back to the UK.

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Akaroa

After Arthur’s Pass, our train rolled into Christchurch and we disembarked into this strange city.  While the earthquake that killed over 200 people was 12 months ago, there are still a lot of scars around.  The streets of the centre are mostly closed off with shops moved and replaced with shipping containers.  As we cycled through the outskirts to find somewhere to stay the place felt like a ghost town – deserted buildings, police tape and traffic cones where everywhere… and there were hardly any people.

We quickly decided we didn’t really want to spend our last few days in Christchurch given the process of rebuilding and healing that seems to permeate the place.  So we decided to head out to Akaroa, a small seaside town on the Banks Peninsula some 60k from Christchurch.

There were a few housekeeping items to take care of before we did though.  Lou had several bags of stuff she’d posted on to a hostel to collect and sort out, whilst I had to find a way of ditching my trusty bike.  I put an ad on NZ’s equivalent of ebay, plus a few notes up in hostels to see if anybody wanted it for $200.  Considering I’d only paid £300 for it, I wasn’t holding out much hope.  I also thought I’d check a local shop to see whether they wanted it – they did.  For $250.  It took all my strength not to leap up and down with joy when the guy said that figure, and I think he thought I was hugely insulted by his offer.  Needless to say, I quickly accepted the offer!

Before leaving for Akaroa we went and watched a play about this history of Christchurch in the park.  This was very funny and the locals are clearly really proud of their city and its history – and also fearless in the dangers that they face.  According to a display in the museum, there have been over 9,000 aftershocks since the 2011 earthquake.  The museum also had some terrifying CCTV footage of the quake hitting the town centre, and some traumatic and uplifting testimonies from survivors and emergency services personnel.  It’s probably one of the best museums I’ve ever been to.

With me bikeless we caught the bus out to Akaroa, which was a particularly welcome decision when we realised how steep the hills are to get into the peninsula.   The small town has a very definite French flavour as it was originally (well, excluding Maori history) a French whaling station.  The locals have embraced their history and there are French flags, shops and clothing all around (though thankfully still a fish and chip shop).

We spent a few days in the town relaxing (aside from another walk up a steep hill), before heading round the coast a bit to a hostel and camp ground that had been recommended to us.  This was half way up a hill in the middle of nowhere and was the perfect end to our time in NZ.  We slept in a wooden cabin with a glass roof went kayaking with Hector’s dolphins.  These small dolphins would appear from nowhere and swim alongside us or on our bow wave before disappearing and then surprising us again.  It was a fantastic experience.

We also had a swim (cold), and Lou collected some mussels for dinner (which I avoided given past experience with her foraging activities).  We also managed to sell our trusty tent, which had put up with many a rain storm.  I would’ve been sad to see it go, except living in a place the size of a small double bed gets a bit much at times.

After a week in Banks Peninsula it was back to Christchurch to box up Lou’s bike and get ready for our flight to Sydney and then onto Hong Kong…

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The west coast

The West Coast

After treading the Copland track, we were back in the saddle for the short 30k to Fox Glacier.  Thankfully the road was pretty much flat, with just a couple of gentle climbs to contend with.  Once we’d set up camp in Fox, we immediately cycled out to have a look at the glacier on the cycleway. 

The next day was to be another short one – just 35k to Franz Joseph glacier… though this time there were three hills to cope with.  Taking it slowly, and glad we weren’t coming the other way as it seemed steeper, we made Franz in good time (that would be lunch time) and bumped, once again, into Herman and Anja, the Dutch couple.  They were literally just about to ride out of town when we bumped into them at an ATM, but they decided to postpone their departure so they could have lunch with us.  As they’d been in Franz for a few days, they knew the lie of the land and took us straight to an amazing bakery that served fantastic pasties.

We spent a few days in Franz, taking a look at the glacier and doing some walks.  Lou also walked on the glacier for a day, whilst I tackled Robert track.

After a nice few days in Franz, we headed further north and along a slight detour to the tiny coastal settlement of Okarito.  This was a community run campsite next to a wild beach famed for its whitebait fishing.  We spent a couple of days here, including one where Lou got up before 9am to go and look atMount Cook in the distance!  Admittedly I stayed in bed, carefully instructing her to take a photo so I could look at it too.

 

After Okarito we headed up the coast towards Hokitika.  This was slightly too far to manage in one day, so we stopped half way at a place famed for serving possum pies (which we neglected to try).

Hokitika was a great town with a beautiful long beach.  After a few days of cycling and after finally arriving back in civilisation (there was a supermarket!), we celebrated with some steaks for the BBQ.  From Hokitika it was on to Greymouth, which sadly lived up to its name and wasn’t that inspiring. So we pressed on further northwards, aiming for Punakaki.  Punakaki is famed for its pancake rocks, a set of strange formations that look (unsurprisingly like a stack of pancakes).  After an amazing cycle along some incredible coastline, we camped at a hostel about 5 meters from the beach, and spent a few lazy days strolling around the coast and watching tiny Hector’s dolphins playing in the surf.

Our West coast adventure then came to its end and we made our way back past Greymouth and then turned east towards Christchurch via Arthur’s pass.  Due to some map reading errors, we ended up doing a far longer day than planned to take us to the base of the 1,000m climb.  Exhausted, we arrived at the campsite hot and very hungry.  After some quick food, we went on the 20 minute walk to a waterfall the owner recommended we could cool off in.  Cool off was more than right.  I could manage about 60 seconds in the water (gasping quite loudly the whole time) before having to get out. After watching me suffer, Lou wisely declined a dip.

The next day we hit the climb.  The Haast pass, the Crown Range pass – even the ridiculous cycle up the mountain in Ohakune – paled in comparison to the steepness of Arthur’s pass.  At one point it was so steep, that I could only cycle about 100m before stopping, getting my breath back, cycling another 100m and so on and so on.  We stopped at a viewing area and a completely random guy started trying to give me the beer he had in the boot of his car – apparently I looked like I needed it (though I’m not sure why he thought it would help me get up the hill!).

We eventually made it though, and slept very, very well that evening.  Though we were tired, that didn’t stop us walking over 1,300m upAvalanchePeak the next day before rushing back down the mountain to catch a train to Christchurch.

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Copland track…

…or Copeland (DOC couldn’t seem to decide how to spell it either on their signs).

After the day of cycling in the rain, we had a sheltered night and then walked the 19k into ‘Welcome Flat’ hut along the Copeland track.  This involved plenty of river crossings, clambering and dodgy looking rope bridges.  It was pretty awesome though, and luckily there were hot pools at the end!

 

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Haast pass

From Wanaka we headed onto the Haast Pass which was basically up with few downs just to go back up again – but these 2 days of riding through the mountains and past lakes were really beautiful with some great weather and only a little bit of head wind. We stopped at all of the 2 store/bar/cafes on the route for cakes and to watch the tumbleweed. Then stayed at a brilliant DOC campsite with views of the mountains at sunset but also a few sandflies! If you fancy cycling this route we reckon the pass is most friendly in this direction – it felt really long and down after the pass.

After a long second day with some annoying headwind, just when our legs were tired, we arrived at Haast where we caught up with the Dutch couple who had been stuck battling head winds for 4 days on the pass – sometimes our laziness really pays off! By now Jon was feeling the strain and craving eggs so we decided to rest up and eat eggs for a day – then we saw the severe weather warning and decided to take another day off. The wind and rain was pretty incredible and forced us and the dutch couple into hostel rooms for the night!

The next morning the sky had lifted so we started our trip up the West coast, a fantastic flat start to the day through coastal rainforest, following a few little climbs to impressive clifftop views and a walk through the woods to a surf pounded beach for lunch we reached Lake Paringi for a quick swim and to set up with lake views and warnings of more rain to come…

By 8 the next morning the rain was set-in and despite lying in until 11 it didn’t sound like stopping so we headed into the damp with the promise of brunch at a salmon farm – 7k of rain later we arrived drenched and caught up with the Dutch couple again as they had a post brunch cigarette before heading into the rain again. Thankfully the rest of the wet day was pretty flat to the motorcamp we were aiming for and thankfully despite having ‘no vacancy’ they had kept some cabins for cyclists (another brilliant cycle friendly place) so we stopped for a dry if mosquitoey night before heading onto the Copeland track.

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Wanaka

After the Crown range pass, we luckily managed to find a campsite that had spa pools and a sauna – this meant plenty of relaxing was undertaken.

Wanaka was a great town, a bit like Queenstown but less frenetic.  The town is based around a huge lake, with the requisite mountains rising all around.  We decided to spend a few days in Wanaka as we really enjoyed the vibe of the place.  We walked up Roy’s Peak (high), went to the Mount Aspiring National Park to look at the glacier (high), cycled around the lake (dusty) and went swimming in the lake and river plenty of times (cold).

We also watched the Challenge Wanaka event – a series of triathlon events, including the world famous Iron Man challenge.  This gruelling 4k swim, 160k bike ride and marathon was incredible to see, and it was good to watch some people nearly as fit as us on their bikes (!).

The event kicked off at 6am, though we wandered down at lunch time to watch the changeover from bike to running, then we walked around a bit, Lou swam in the lake, we had some dinner and went to the cinema to watch Drive… and on the way home the last people were coming in from the marathon.  This was about 10pm.  One of the marshals told us it was better than last year when they were still waiting for people at midnight!

(Oh, and Lou mentioned something about doing a triathlon when she gets back to the UK.  Please remember to remind her about it.)

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Crown range

After the cycleway from hell (built by golfists) between Queenstown and Arrowtown, we were suitably grumpy and tired-legged to take on the Crown Range, NZ’s highest pass at 1073m. Unfortunately the upness of the mountains started right from Arrowtown so there was no time for a warm up. Luckily, we’d been promised a pub after the summit so there definitely would be time for chips.

Naturally, I’d prepared myself for the worst, which was just as well because the road was practically vertical to start with and I slowly ground my way up through the hairpins while Lou looked utterly unperturbed by the whole thing. At the top of the first climb we stopped for photos and a lot of water and some sweets (the sweets were to become more important as the gradient went on).

Thankfully the road slackened off a little for a few K and we caught Anja and Hermann (I hope I’ve spelt that right!), two Dutch cyclist’s we’d met at Arrowtown campsite. They’d set off a bit before us and we caught them as they stopped for a quick cigarette (!) in the shade of a tree. Worried our legs would stop working if we paused, we carried on going.

Sadly, the annoying guy with the racing bike at Arrowtown campsite proved correct when he said the second part of the climb was harder. It really was. We had a brief stop before the climb really, really got going so some tourists could laugh at us, and then ploughed on. I had to have a small moment to myself on one particularly steep bit (it was really a moment to cram as many sweets into my mouth as I could) and then it was no stopping until the top (if I’d stopped again I really wouldn’t have started again).

Part of the problem with this kind of climb is that it’s slow and boring. Sure, the scenery is pretty, but to be honest you spend most of your time staring at inch by inch of tarmac going past you at a glacial pace, whilst trying not to accidentally spit out a lung. So, in our own little worlds, we sat there and span away, slowly clawing at meter after meter of height. I started to wonder what the point of all this was; how stupid cycling is; how great cars are; and that I never, ever want to be on a bike on a hill again. Of course, all I was really doing was trying to distract myself from the fact that I was faltering badly. I started praying to Merckx - if I could just have his legs for the last K or so, or maybe just ride in his slipstream… and then something amazing happened. You see, dear reader, there was a gust of wind. (No, not that kind.) A breeze picked up behind me and, like a gentle hand, pushed me to the top of the climb. Merckx had answered my prayers (although next time I’d like the wind to be slightly warmer). At the top, Lou still looked absolutely fine, and so I made a a small promise to myself to stop eating so many NZ pies.

Thankfully, after all the up, it was all down to Wanaka… but not before a lot of chips in the pub.

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Arrowtown

After our sojourn to Doubtful Sound it was back to Queenstown to grab our stuff and then get straight back in the (by this stage quite painful) saddle. Now, you might remember that I mentioned a cycleway between Queenstown and Arrowtown in an earlier dispatch. Well, we decided to give this cycleway a go. We spoke to the guy at the place where we’d been staying and he said it was a nice 2 hour ride and that, whilst he did it on his mountain bike, we’d be fine on our bikes with all our stuff. Stuff the main road or the quick back route, we thought, we’ll give the cycleway a go.

We headed out of Queenstown along the nice lakeside cycle/walk way (well worth getting on to if you ever cycle that way), and then hit the main road for a bit before turning off. The first part of the cycleway was quite nice and unfortunately lulled us into a false sense of security because pretty quickly we hit a hill. And this was no ordinary hill, this hill went up. I mean, really up. Up in a way that was impossible to cycle and only just possible to walk. Very tired and slightly grumpy we got to the top of the hill. There was then a road section before the cycle trail started again, though you had to have incredible eyesight to actually spot the signs for the cycleway as they were so small and so well hidden.

It was pretty clear by this stage that this cycle route was very, very new as bits of it were incomplete and lacked important things like signs or directions. But all that was fine and we managed to make our way steadily towards Arrowtown.

Then there was another hill. Now, if we thought the last hill had been steep, this one was a vertical cliff face. We trudged our way up it like two Everest summiteers: a few steps, rest, a few steps, rest…

And then everything became brutally clear. Well, clearish. As we got to what we thought was Arrowtown, we realised it wasn’t Arrowtown at all. We’d actually entered golf world. Yes, the cycle route seemed to have been built as some kind of deal with whoever had built the massive golf complex on the edge of Arrowtown. This wasn’t just a golf course though, this was a golf town. It was a massive course (Arrowtown’s third!) with houses, shops, pubs, roads and walkways. It was weird. The weirdest thing though was that it was all so new there was nobody there. The whole place was deserted. And when we eventually emerged from the other side of this strange golf town, we still had a few K to get to Arrowtown!

Anyway, the lesson of the whole adventure was that golfers shouldn’t build cycle routes. Or at least they should be made to cycle them if they do build them.

We arrived (gratefully) at the campsite and settled down for a relaxing evening. Sadly, in a massive feat of irony, we’d be getting up in the morning to cycle over New Zealand’s highest sealed road, the 1076m crown range and it’s infamously steep switch backs.

Doubtful Sound

It’s hard to write about Doubtful Sound. My first thought is to simply say ‘This is the most incredible place on earth’, but I think it’ll be too easy for you to be a bit skeptical. So I think I’ll let the pictures do the talking and tell you about what we did in Doubtful Sound instead.

Doubtful Sound was our one big blow out of the trip – we decided to do an overnight cruise. The overnight cruise offered a number of advantages over a single day trip – firstly, we wouldn’t have to sleep in our tent for a night and, secondly, dinner and breakfast were included. Okay, those aren’t the only reasons. By going overnight we’d obviously get to spend longer in the Sound and see a lot more of it, including a brief sojourn out into the wild Tasman Sea.

Our trip started with a coach from Queenstown, followed by a ferry across a lake, another coach and, finally, our cruise boat. I knew it was going to be a fantastic trip when we got onboard and there were hot muffins waiting for us – actually the next 24 hours were basically an opportunity for us to eat a lot of food.

We set sail and saw some of the features of the sound, including the odd seal and penguin. We then had an opportunity to do some activities – Lou went kayaking, while I went out in an inflatable. The two of us and a couple of others then went for a swim off the back of the boat – the word ‘cold’ doesn’t really do it justice. I also wouldn’t have gone swimming if I’d known there were a lot of great white sharks in the area as it was seal breeding time. Then it was time for dinner, which we excelled at.

After a night in our tiny cabin, we were up ludicrously early for breakfast and some more sights of the Sound. It’s probably something you need to experience yourself to really appreciate, but Doubtful Sound was certainly my highlight of the trip so far.

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Super rad to the max Queenstown

After making our way along the Otago Rail Trail, we hit Clyde. This small town had a busy campsite next to a huge river downstream from a power station. Apparently it’s NZ’s biggest volume river and despite the swift current we had a quick evening dip after our long dusty ride along the trail.

A good night’s sleep later we headed to Cromwell, a pretty town up along the lake above the power station at Clyde. Whilst a bit up and down, the road was actually quite easy – and a welcome relief after the loose stone of the Otago Rail Trail. There were plenty of fast drivers though and a few too close for my liking. Kiwi’s may generally be nice people, but put them in a car and… well, my opinion of them changes quite quickly.

Anyhow, we made good time and got to Cromwell in time for a quick lunchtime pie followed by a dip in the lake. Still feeling hungry we succumbed to a takeaway on the walk back to the campsite and then had dinner.

The next day was a 60k ride up the river to Queenstown, NZ’s adventure capital. The ride was pretty up and down, with plenty more close drivers, though refreshingly some surprisingly considerate truck drivers. Arrowtown would be a good stop on the way to Queenstown, and there’s even a ‘back way’ along a cycle trail – but more about that later. We bypassed Arrowtown as we would be heading back through on our way over NZ’s highest road (gulp) to Wanaka in a few days.

Queenstown was a mad place. Our first touch of ‘civilisation’ (i.e. there were bars, people, shops etc.,) for awhile was a nice change and perched on a lake with incredible mountains all around. Setting up our tent on the campsite below the cable car and ski-station we were treated to the sight of paragliders coiling rapidly down from the mountain – tourist jumps where the instructors seemed intent to scare the lives out of the poor customers strapped to them by spinning and falling as quickly as possible.

After a not-so-peaceful night (Queenstown is also party capital) we headed to a quieter campsite and set about exploring. By exploring I mean we walked up to the ski-station… all 900m or so of it. The views were stunning though and also gave us a sight of the mountain bike trails coming down from the ski lifts.

The next day we sat out some rain, and then went and hired ourselves some mountain bikes. We did a few runs of the green and then moved on to the ‘plenty steep enough for me, thanks’ blue and definitely avoided the black and double-black routes. The blue was a great route with plenty of well-bermed corners, jumps, north shore and multiple lines to choose from. By the end of the day we were completely knackered…

… and ready for our most expensive adventure to date: an overnight cruise on Doubtful Sound…