Sunday 23^rd. March.

Get an early start and drive the 30 Km. up to the North Egmont Visitor Centre at 946 metres, the highest point that tourists can drive to on Mount Taranaki. Dissapointed to see the top ½ is capped by cloud, whilst all around is mostly clear blue sky. Looks as though it will burn off won’t it? At least I got a good clear view yesterday: impressive too. More impressive though when it is snow covered for a good part of the year, and often likened to Mount Fuji. Mount Taranaki is a volcano that is still regarded as active, but last erupted in 1755, and seemed very dormant to me. I sign the book just as they open at 8.30 am. and am immediately joined by a Kiwi, Vic from Auckland who has made the 5 hour drive to climb Taranaki. I assume that he just wants to be a friendly guide to a lone tourist, and wants company for himself. He had tried it last week, but it had been raining, and one of his friends was getting serious cramps early in the climb. Well he turns out to be no guide, as he sets a good pace – for all of about 15 minutes – and then stops for a breather. This continues. I put up with this for quite a while, and as we get higher I can tell from his breathing he is nowhere as fit as me, and I gently try to hint that he would better emulate the other lone Brit we had overtaken plodding slowly but surely onwards. “No, no, this is the way I do it” Another quote “I’ve done a Half Iron Man in the past”? We are walking up a moderately steep Landrover track, which services a telephone mast and a Mountaineering Club Hut, through low brush, and we do it in less than tourist guide time, but the steadily plodding Brit arrives whilst we are having a bite.

 

 

The way now goes through a rocky gorge and then the scree starts. There are about 100 metres of ascent on a wooden staircase, built to prevent erosion in the fragile alpine vegetation zone. We are now entering the cloud and I wait at the top of the steps to get Vic in a photo to add perspective.

 

After this I leave Vic behind and catch up with the steady Brit, and we stick together through the increasingly awkward scree to stop for a long lunch before we tackle the final third on mostly good rock. Vic never catches up with us.

 

As we walk and scramble up the top rock section we emerge above the cloud, which diminishes and breaks over time, but never entirely clears. We, and others of all ages are feeling the effects of altitude, but there are a few youngsters who are exceptionally fit and stride onwards forcefully.

We are still well ahead of tourist guide time, and have another long second lunch and take photos of the striking rock and crater formation at the top, and the distant views, but the increasing cloud is being gathered by the mountain. Mountain height 2518 metres. So 5.5 km. and 1572 metres of ascent (my GPS reads 1722) in 5 hours including stops.

 

Still no sign of Vic, and we head off down into the cloud, emerging below it again at the top of the steps above the gorge.

 

 

 

Still no sign of Vic so we assume he had given in, but as I arrive back at the car park he bounds up to me. He had gotten to the top of the rock scramble just below the crater, and decided enough was enough, as he was feeling funny. I could tell that it was the altitude, but he didn’t seem to understand the concept. He still had a 5 hour drive back to Auckland that evening and work the following day.

 

All in all an 8 hour day for the climb and descent.

Saturday 22^nd. March. 

Well, you got the last 3 days posts this morning after all, so has my good luck returned.

Whilst tidying up yesterday’s blog in the word processor, I decided to connect the dead phone to the computer to see if I could access the data in it as an external memory, and that somehow rebooted the phone. It was showing zero charge, and I still do not know what had drained the battery: the damn thing seems to have a life and mind of its own. Anyway it means that it will now charge with the proper charger again, and that is a big relief: until next time? So I made use of it, and processed 3 days blogs and respective photos, using it to connect my computer to the internet through paid for NZ telecom; probably should have waited, because as I write this I have 2 days unlimited free WiFi.

So again feeling better about my little world, I set off to drive to Mount Taranaki.

I had crashed for the night in a cheap motel at Foxton, and would you believe it, soon after I set off I found a near plethora of choice, that I had not last evening.

Initially there is a lot of traffic on this East Coast State Highway 1, not surprising as it connects Wellington to Auckland; not many lorries, but it feels too much like the UK with very slow tailbacks whenever 2 lanes comes down to 1: but it is not as hard driving here.

The countryside soon became a large plain of green grassy fields with the odd arable field, and looked very English in nature: lots of dairy cows.

Later it developed into rolling countryside not unsimilar to a very dry grassy Derbyshire.

Then at Wanganui I turned off State Highway 1 onto 3 and lost most of the traffic.

An hour before I was due in its vicinity, I saw Mount Taranaki: it’s going to be a big B****R to climb!

 

 

From Wanganui to Hawera the scenery became unbelievably very Cheshire and Shropshire Dairy Country, with just a few big arable fields as well. I saw a couple recently harvested with straw in trails, and would you believe it, a field of burnt stubble, just like we used to before the ban: very nostalgic.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not unsurprising then to find a café called The Fat Cow, which was a very rewarding stop for early lunch.

 

I had only stopped for a coffee, but was tempted by a chicken and chilli cake: well wouldn’t you?

 

 

It was like a fish cake, but with chicken and chilli, and excellent reviver of morale.

Whilst there I asked about the next door giant factory I had seen from a distance. It was Fonterra’s largest dairy in NZ, and they owned the café.

I Googled:-

In the heart of Taranaki, Fonterra’s Whareroa site at Hawera collects up to 14 million litres of milk a day. It produces the largest volume of dairy ingredients, from a single factory anywhere in the world.

Established in 1972, the site processes a fifth of Fonterra’s dairy production in New Zealand. It makes 428,000 tonnes of milk powder, cheese, cream, protein and lactic casein ingredients every year.
With a team of 1000, Fonterra Whareroa produces enough dairy ingredients to fill more than three Olympic-sized swimming pools each week. Every six hours a train pulls into the factory to ship five containers filled with dairy products around New Zealand and to international markets.
The site’s five powder plants produce about 200,000 tonnes of milk powder per year.
The butter plant produces 30 tonnes of butter per hour and 88,000 tonnes each year.
 

Drive on through the increasingly Shropshire like countryside, as we now have Hawthorn hedges enclosing the fields instead of barbed wire, but on closer look they are a native species: not like Hawthorn at all. Mount Taranaki growing in size rapidly.

 

I drive to Dawson Falls on the south side of the mountain, for a look and leg stretch, and at the small visitor centre find out that I am already at 900 metres above sea level, which accounts for the coolness, but it is still sunny shirt sleeve weather.

 

I take an hour’s walk through some very gnarled old trees and bush to the little Hydro Power Station, and the Waterfall.

 

 

 

The Power Plant reminds me of that at Rosenlaui near Meiringen in the Swiss Alps, but although about the same size, that was a modern replacement and turning at incredible speed, this was a more steady pace; not surprising as Rosenlaui had to generate for a whole hotel, this just for the visitor centre and a small tourist lodge, and this was the original first and oldest in NZ.

 

 

Dawson Waterfall

 

Shropshire like View

 

A Dawson Falls Traffic Island

 

 

Drive on to New Plymouth to the i-SITE to see about accommodation and info on the climb, as I intend to climb it from the north where you can get higher by car.

It would appear that I may have made a bad decision in avoiding The Tongariro Crossing at the weekend, because would you believe it, there is a Lionel Ritchie Concert on at the Racecourse tonight, and all the accommodation is booked for miles around: this is no small tourist town. I think that I may have to drive 100 km. back to find anywhere, but I stop at a motel with a vacancy sign: only because the NO part of the sign had blown it turns out. However the Old Lady Receptionist – the Owner – knew a few websites to look at, and for no reward other than a thank you, found me a room in the posh Devon Hotel not far from the waterfront and centre of town, and immediately booked me a couple of nights through Booking.com. OK it’s $200 per night breakfast extra as opposed to last nights $65, but I have paid this a couple of times before. I have a choice of a Queen Double and a Standard Double in the same room.

After booking in, I drive round town looking for a supermarket, to stock up on lunch for the the climb and next few days, and I buy a smoked fish salad and a fruit salad for this evening as I don’t want a full hotel meal after today’s lunchtime indulgence.

Sleep well, having not heard a squeak out of Lionel Ritchie, the racecourse being the inland side of town.

Friday 21^st. March.

Up before light and wait in the ferry queue for an hour before loading.

Then watch others loading and the departure from the open top deck.

Well buttoned up in Fleece and Windproof, I stay and watch our progress weaving down Queen Charlotte Sound to the open sea; this alone takes one of the four hours of the sailing to Wellington on the North Island, and is quite magical, as it appears that we are gliding slowly through similar landscapes that we have been charging through in the car, but these valley flats are water, and we are leaving a long wake behind.

 

 

We make a few zig-zags as to go straight ahead would either leave us land locked or take us a very long way round, such is the convoluted layout of the Marlborough Sounds as this whole north coast of South Island is known.

Even when we reach the open sea of the Cook Straight I stay up top in the strong cold wind to watch the no longer smooth sea for all but one hour of the 4 hour crossing.

 

North Island has always been visible but I come back on deck when the view is close enough to be interesting, and watch our approach to Wellington, and am struck by the number of SkyScrapers, in contrast with Christchurch which has been nearly levelled.

 

After disembarkation I try to find my way to Te Papa, The Museum of New Zealand, by a SatNav that tells me to get back on the ferry, so I make my own way by instinct, trial and fortunately not too much error. Parking is almost impossible and when I find a space, I have too few coins to feed the meter. I try my credit card in the meter, but it won’t accept, so I drive to a supermarket across the road and change a note, drive a couple of blocks round the one way system and find a 2 hour parking slot.

Te Papa is a modern 5 storey building, and tells the story by means of exhibits and audio visual presentations – many interactive for the Kids – of New Zealand from its geological creation millions of years ago, through colonisation by plants and birds, then Maori followed by Europeans, to the present day. It is all very impressive, but 2 hours is just not enough to take it all in: this is a place you need to visit little and often to take it all in properly, which, if you were local, you could do as entry I free.

I am feeling tired today, so I decide to head north with no plan as such, but with Tongariro Crossing in mind, I set SatNav to there, and realise that I could drive there by dark, or that if I had missed out Te Papa I could have been there in good time. It is not a place to go without booking accommodation in advance, so when I stop for petrol I get out my phone, only to find it dead, oh well it must have run down, so I decide I will just keep driving and find a motel somewhere to rest for the night, recharge the phone, and asses the week ahead. The driving is much busier than I have come across before. It is more like the A1; lots of traffic coming to a standstill frequently where 2 lanes come down to 1, and the little seaside towns remind me of those on the Lincolnshire coast, and Levin, Skegness in particular.

It is all getting too much, so I dive into the next dive I come across, a cheap motel in one of these little seaside towns – village more like – rather run down but what should one expect at half the price of my usual: the sheets are clean though.

Here I find that the phone won’t charge: I am sure that it is as dead as a Dodo. Is my luck finally running out here on North Island: Worrying.

No internet at this place, but not a surprise at this price, so reassess my plans and write up the blog in draft, as usual, on the computer. When I next get internet access you are going to get a few days all at once: I was so pleased to be able to use the phone as a mobile router and I have still got credit in NZ Telecom that I cannot now use unless I go and buy a new phone, which I don’t think is necessary in the time left to me: I can cope, and if the computer packs up you will receive the last posts from UK when I return.

I have decided that going to Tongariro at the weekend would be a mistake, so I think I will go to Taranaki for the weekend and use my time there to organise accommodation in advance.

 

Am posting this the next morning having found that the phone will work when plugged into the computer, so can use it to act as a mobile router: but will it charge and work when standing alone.

 

See the Next Episode?

 

 

S

Thursday 20^th. March.

Lovely drive from Nelson to Picton

Winding up and down roads surrounded by hills of douglas fir plantations, and native bush with an increasing number of tree ferns.

At Havelock we meet the sea although it is 50km. to open ocean. Up here it is a maze of twisted land and sounds and bays: The Rough Guide rightly uses the word Filigree.

  

 

We take the Queen Charlotte Scenic Route east to Picton, first along the Mahapikawa Arm of Pelorus Sound, the cross land to the Grove Arm of Queen Charlotte Sound. This is a slow road winding up and down and in and out of the ravines and ridges of the land covered in bush, and you get only glimpses and occasional viewpoints of the water in the sounds below.

 

 

 

One spectacular viewpoint is on the road above Shakespeare Bay, where a big ship is being loaded with timber from a very big holding yard: an impressive operation.

 

A second is another kilometre on, above Picton, and the sight is impressive again, as you can see the whole of Picton laid out below you; the ferry operations, the town and the marina, all tightly contained by surrounding hills.

First thing I do is drop in at the Ferry Terminal and am successful in getting tomorrow’s midday sailing switched to early morning. Second I grab a smoked salmon and cream cheese sandwich for lunch at a café on the high street. Third I visit the pharmacy next door for some Manuka Honey sweets as I still have a tickly cough once or twice a day, and some deodorant powder for my trainers which are positively radioactive in this heat.

I go to the Edwin Fox Museum and spend a good couple of hours here, and I am one of only 2 customers. The Edwin Fox is the sole survivor of the East Indiamen sailing ships. She was built in 1853 near Calcutta, but spent more time on trips to New Zealand and Australia, bringing settlers, and a few convicts in the latter case. She served as a supply ship to the Crimean War, and later was fitted with refrigeration but only as a holding warehouse in port, then as a final indignity was dismasted and hacked about to act as a coal bunker for the boilers powering the new more efficient refrigeration plant at Picton Harbour. When all that came to an end it was cheaper to beach the old hulk at the aforementioned Shakespeare Bay. She was rescued from destruction by a group of enthusiasts in the late 60s and brought into dry dock. She is really only a shell, but very interesting to some people.

 Notice the use of Patent Wrought Iron instead of Oak Knees

 

 

 

Bask in the evening sunshine at a Motel on the shore of the next Bay to Picton.

 

Wednesday 19^th. March.

Fog? When I opened the curtains at dawn I couldn’t see to the end of the garden. What happened to last night’s promise, but you know that it’s going to break sometime reasonably soon.

So leisurely breakfast once again, followed by another trip to Kate’s, this time to help her extract from her garden, a pipe, which turns out to be a 4 inch 60 foot long worm. (100 mm. X 20 metres)

Home to do the crosswords; as always for Norman & Monica.

Leisurely lunch inside today, but the overcast is breaking up, so Norman & Monica take me on a walk from the house.

15 minutes or so up grassy footpaths to the top of their hill where there is a new housing development on the ridge, from where, over the suburb of Stoke we can see Nelson, Tasman Bay and Waimea Inlet; on a clear day we would see the Abel Tasman National Park and the Mount Arthur Range. From this ridge we can also look down into the Marsden Valley from where a number of tracks head into the hills beyond.

 

So Norman & Mon have a stunning house, with stunning views.

 

 

 

They can walk ¼ hour to top of hill extending the views to open country, some farmland, some development, and views of the bush clad mountains behind the house.

 

From there another ½ hour walk would take them to the base of those hills. Another 1 hour and 5km. away to Barnicoat ridge at around 800 metres altitude. Another 5 km. to another ridge, of open to bush covered vegetation, at 1000 metres, and another 10 km. south this ridge has several 1500 and one 1700 metre peaks all within 20 km from Tasman Bay. A 30 to 40 km. drive would take them to the Mount Arthur Range, the twins of which reach 1809 metres, 465 metres higher than Ben Nevis.

But we need a leisurely day today as we have a dinner date with Kate & Will this evening, so we head down into Marsden and turn right instead, and through parkland beside a stream into Isel Park, now a fine small park owed by Nelson City Council. It is well attended has some fine flower beds, but more importantly some very majestic European trees planted by the Marsden Family about 150 years ago. It is called Isel Park after the Cumbrian Village of Isel, which is situated on the River Derwent halfway between Bassenthwaite and Cockermouth, because Thomas Marsden came from Cumberland to Stoke, a suburb of Nelson.

This led us to have a look in the Estate Agents at properties for sale in the area, before walking home!

The evening meal at the Harbour Light Bistro is a joint effort: Kate organises, Norman does the Wine, and Roger the Food as a thank you for the hospitality of the last few days.

On the waterfront with a view over harbour entrance we watch tugs bring in a container ship, and the Yacht Club Racing Night, all still in daylight.

Hot Smoked Salmon Starter, Gurnard Main, Quay Lime Pie Dessert to die for: Date with Warm Gingerbread, Caramel Sauce, Sauteed Pear & Vanilla Ice Cream next year?

Brightwater "Lord Rutherford", Nelson, Sauvignon Blanc.

Nga Waka "Botrytis Bunch Selection", Martinborough North Island, Riesling Dessert Wine: Bliss.

 

 

 

Tuesday 18^th. March.

As the distant mountains remain shrouded in cloud and the town overcast, today will be a more relaxed pace of life once again.

In the morning I help Norman move boards from his old kitchen from blocking space in his garage to Kate’s house where she and Will can make use of them in the renovation of their house.

Norman & Monica then show me around, a now sunny and warm Nelson; we walk around the shops, and I do a bit of shopping. We walk around the Cathedral which is surrounded by majestic trees planted around 150 years ago by the early settlers.

 

We then visit Nelson Museum, which has an exhibition on the Christchurch Earthquakes. It increases my knowledge and perspective of the event, and I find it a salutary and moving experience.

Home for lunch on the Patio

It is now quite hot, and after lunch I don as little as possible, plus sunscreen, and we drive up the Maitai Valley to Maitai Dam, which supplies Nelson with its water, and has numerous walks on old tramways from the doomed days of prospecting and mining of various ores such as chromium.

 

 

This, like most of the valleys around here, and in fact all of NZ (I can only talk of South Island of course) is narrow, steep and wooded with either native bush or introduced species forestry. Some places are so steep that I cannot imagine how they planted this forestry, never mind how they will harvest.

 

This picture doesn’t show the true scale of it all: very difficult to capture

After yet another of Mon’s lovely meals, and Norman’s wines (Norman knows me well and is treating me to gorgeous desert wine as well – every night) the cloud starts to break over on the distant mountains (50 km.) and we get a spectacular sunset over a spectacular skyline: It is my first real view of the Twins on Mount Arthur, with whom Norman and I have a date. Next year???

 

Looking East from Norman & Mon’s balcony over the Waimea Inlet to the Mount Arthur Range 50 km. away: Cloud above and below.

 

Spot the twins

 

 

 

 

 

 

Promising a good day tomorrow?