St. George Down Under

A Perpetual Photographic Orgasm

April 25, 2009 at 9:49 pm (Uncategorized) (akaroa, alastair and shirley, arthur's pass, bed and breakfast, bed and breakfast new zealand, coastal cliffs, greymouth, lord of the rings, new zealand, oak lodge homestay, shirley and alastair)

I understand that the mention of the world ‘orgasm’ will make some people squirm and uncomfortable, but I brainstormed for another word and could not come up with one that fit what I was trying to say. Also, I kinda enjoy being a bit controversial and pushing people…

I found myself standing on the top of a ridge, a cold wind howling about me. 360° views of variably green rolling hills encircled me, with pastures cordoned off alongside the slopes of each ridge for sheep and cattle. The hills were smooth with grass, save for random patches of trees and small farm houses. The cold air stung my nose, but the sweet smells of pastures along with the fresh ocean air was redeeming. Below me was the quaint New Zealand town of Akaroa, perched on the edge of Banks Peninsula, with a beautiful harbor stretching through the mountains and off into the mist. The descriptor of the day: A Perpetual Photographic Orgasm.

That morning we awoke (late…I was supposed to wake my parents, but didn’t turn up the volume on my phone, sleeping through it…) to an incredible breakfast made by our host Glenda. Two different types of kiwis (served by a Kiwi!), pineapple, watermellon, granola, wonderful tropical fruit yogarts, plum compote, eggs benedict and bacon. WOW! 

I chilled in my room a little bit, worked on internet stuff, then got ready for our trip to Akaroa. It was supposed to be a beatiful trip, and I was pumped! The excitement quickly faded, however, after we took what felt like wrong turn after wrong turn; it felt like we would NEVER get out of the city. I was really getting frustrated. It didn’t seem that difficult, and I didn’t know what the problem was. I am only gonna be in NZ for 6 days, so I was starting to get pissed that the day was slipping away.

The parents did, however, succeed in getting us out into the city, and we drove past sheep pastures upon sheep pastures at the base of beautiful hills, all colored differently due to the changing leaves. It is, you see, autumn. Snow-capped jagged mountains were ahead of us; it was just spectacular. It really does feel like Middle Earth!

After a while we arrived at a little community and stopped at the information center, which also doubled as a craft co-op. I found a blue beanie hand-knit from New Zealand wool for $20 New Zealand dollars, which translates to about $14 USD, mom found a sweater for herself made from New Zealand wool and possum, and dad found a beanie as well. I overheard a man asking the shopkeeper if there were any less-curvy roads-his passenger was feeling sick. She said no, and he went on his way. I thought, “Oh man, it looks like I made it through the windy-ness without throwing up!” I had no idea of the roads to come, and this was probably a good thing.

We drove on towards Akaroa, climbing quickly through the hills on switchbacks. I started to feel dizzy, so I switched with mom, taking the front seat. In about two minutes we had climbed 500 or so feet and looked down upon the valley, mountains, and hill-side sheep pastures that surrounded us, with their rickety old wood and wire fences, reminicent of Hobbiton. 

We kept on winding through the hills/mountains (it’s really hard to define it…they were rolling hills, but there were also snow-capped mountains. Pictures will come…you decide) and came to a fork-the left was Tourist Road, an incredibly twisty but stunning route along the tops of the hills/mountains, or the shorter but less stunning route to Akaroa. I had my camera, and it was roughly 2 pm, so we took Tourist Road. 

At this point we were above the harbour, driving around towards the far end. The harbour was spectacular, with the mountains behind it, and its watery fingers clawing into the peninsula. It was a misty and cold day, which didn’t yield the best photographic situations. I did, however, continue shooting, falling back on HDR to try to get me through the tough circumstances. I think I got a few good ones.

The roads just kept on getting windier and windier, following the exact curvature of the mountains. In and out of the ridges we went, up and down-these roads were probably built to have the least amount of impact on the land; good for nature, bad for stomaches. I started to get dizzy, and the dizzy feeling migrated south into my stomache. I prayed and prayed, breathed deeply, and thought logically about throwing up. As we got closer to Akaroa, and started to quickly descent, cautious pangs of jubilance overtook me. Overcoming such stressful obstacles as these, even with supernatural help, is an incredibly freeing and joyous experience. It was so great to drive along the beach, out of the mountains, and on less-windy roads.

The town of Akaroa was so cute! It was settled by the French (before they realized that the British actually colonized New Zealand before them) so there was a strong likeness to European villages. Very tidy, many cute little pubs and shops, and the layout of the streets all reminded me of Germany. It’s hard to explain it, but the atmosphere was just very European. 

We had skipped lunch, which is never a good thing, and at this point I was light-headed with hunger. We stumbled into a restaraunt that overlooked the harbour and ordered some grub. The server was a Maori woman, which was quite exciting. I don’t want to objectify the Maori people, but you just hear so much about the Maori, and to meet one was quite cool. First came mussels for the appetizer (or entre, as they call it here), then I  had glazed duck for a main. Dad had a seafood platter that was just incredible. Oh, and we had a bowl of fries. So good! (Forgot what mom had…some kind of seafood I think…) We were just talking today about how we haven’t had a bad meal here; they all have been nothing less than gourmet (minus McDonalds, of course). They really know how to eat and cook food down under!

We piled back into the car and sped out af Akaroa, trying to make it out of the mountians before darkness hit. This time we took the shorter, less scenic route, which caused me great relief. We got back on to level ground in about half an hour, which was surprising quick after taking Tourist Road. It felt like that took three hours! I nodded off on the way home, exhausted from the adventure and stress. 

After hearing about New Zealand and its beauty time and time again I started to think that it was more talk than reality. I also speculated that most of the beauty was in non-accessible places. This is not the case. New Zealand is more beautiful than you can imagine-unless you have a freakin’ awesome imagination. And much of the beauty is seen straight from the road. It doesn’t seem as though colonization or settlement or humans have degradated the beauty, it seems pure and thriving to me. But hey, what do I know. I’ve only been here three days.

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The following day, which is today as I’m writing it, (but I will probably finish this post tomorrow…I’m on a string of HUGE posts-I’ve got a lot to relay back to friends and family) we awoke to another wonderful breakfast, and this time I woke up on time! Breakfast was similar to the previous morning, except we had a tree tomato compote, which was like sweet tomatoes, with the addition of pancakes with apple syrup and chocolate croissants. Glenda sure knows how to do it!

 

 

(Oh, and I meant New Zealand dollars, not Australian dollars…)
 
We said our goodbyes and drove off towards Greymouth, taking Arthur’s Pass directly through the mountains. It was stunning. The road wound up the side of a mountain, giving us views of the valley below. Then we descended on the others side, and came back to the flats. We pulled off at a gorgeous blue lake to stretch our legs and take pictures, and a guy in a car rolled down his window and said, “Icha tekken tha picturrrrez?” I could barely understand this thick NZ accent, but we spoke a bit. He lived near Greymouth, and invited me out to his place to see horses and Indians (didn’t really know there were Indians here…). I said something about being in the land of Lord of the Rings, and he mumbled something about rocks ahead. He also asked where I was from, and then offered me a lolly (candy). I went against all common sense and obliged. It was so tasty, a raspberry hard candy!!

 

 

We continued on our way, snaking around the bases of mountains, through valleys,  with grey mountains, jagged, snow-covered mountains, rolling green hills, and waterfalls spurting from the hillsides. We came upon some strange-looking rocks jutting out from a lazy rolling hill, and pulled over. It was quite apparent that this was the place that my lolly-friendly amigo was speaking of. 

I’m really having trouble figuring out how to explain what it looked like. I’ll post pics at some time. Let’s see…Imagine having a large rock and dropping a 500lb weight on it, breaking it all up. Then sprinkle the rocks over a mound of dirt. And most of the rocks are smooth…ok, that didn’t really work. Well, hm…I’ll put up some pictures. Just, rocks by themselves, formations of rocks, natural shelters of rocks, it was cool. And by a working farm, which was also kinda cool.

We got back on the road and pushed towards Greymouth. Dad again wanted to get out of the mountains before dark, so we had to hurry. It was very interesting how the scenery changed. The changes were subtle, but not lacking in profundity. The views went from pastures with rolling hills to rolling hills with a backdrop of large, snow-capped mountains. Non-tropical flora to tropical-palm trees and fern trees, and other tropical plants-the closer we got to the coast. It was as if we were driving from Alaska to Hawai’i-it’s the only way I can describe it. 

There must be some law in New Zealand that forbiddens more than 500m of straight road. I have never experienced such an abundance of windy roads in my life. The road to Akaroa was the worst, but nearly every road that we have taken was ridiculous. And I’m not just throwing the world ridiculous around. RIDICULOUS. 

On this day-trip I experienced one of the most stunning stretches of road that I have ever seen. It took me by surprise, so I most regrettably have no pictures. We crossed a bridge that was above a river bustling over white rocks, much in the same fashion as the Little Su that runs through Hatcher Pass in AK. The rode then hugged the side of a mountain and curled around it, with the river on the left, and a wall shooting straight up from that which formed a mountain. In front of us this strange concrete chute was erected; its purpose to divert a waterfall and carry it above the road, shooting it out into the air, landing in the river hundreds of feet below. The chute was about thirty feet tall or so, and was a strikingly ingenious and intriguing installation.

As I write these NZ posts I feel as though it is my duty to attempt to convey the beauty of the land here, but it’s nearly impossible. Many times I feel as though I’m a babbling idiot, repeating ‘stunning’, ‘beautiful’, ‘gorgeous’, and other adjectives. It’s frustrating! I’ll have pictures coming soon, and I’ll insert them into the posts as well, so…keep an eye out.

We stopped at a little town and had a bite to eat, then ventured on. I was feeling a bit dizzy from the roads at this point, so I switched with mom and took the front seat. It felt like a bit of a defeat, as I would really like to kill this vomiting phobia of mine. Afternoon turned in to night, and we were all exhausted- completely wrung out. At long last we saw a grouping of lights in the distance, and as we neared we discovered that it was the town of Greymouth. Finally!

We neared the bed and breakfast, a place called Oak Lodge Homestay. As we turned into the driveway we were greeted by 80 sheep in a paddock- is there anything more New Zealand than that?! Our hosts came out to greet us and introduced themselves as Alastair and Shirley, two warm and wonderfully hospitable souls. It was around 7:30pm, and like I said before, we were dead. Shirley showed us our rooms (originally it was going to be ‘room’, but Shirley gave me a room of my own. I owe her!!! ) and booked us a place at the best restaurant in town (it is only a town of 13,000, but still…!). It was dark outside so we couldn’t really see our surroundings, but we could tell by the inside of the place that we were someplace special.

To your right upon entrance was a wonderful sitting room, thick with an antique, old-world atmosphere. Wooden walls, a grand fireplace, extraordinary paintings, and cosy couches and chairs. To the left of the sitting room was a billiard room, complete with a pool table, or more accurately to this specific table, snookers. Dad and I played some, and I got creamed. (Technically I won both games ’cause he scratched on the 8-ball, but we’ll gloss over that…) 

The restaurant was again exquisite. And, again, we were served by a beautiful female New Zealander. Ahhhhhhh… Anyways, I had wonderful glazed pork with a nice glass of New Zealand Pinot Gris.

After the meal we strolled about the small town of Greymouth, peering in the stores, and headed back to our little oasis. It was a perfect end to a stunning, stressful, tiring and eventful day.