Ayers Rock at last!

Ayers Rock / Uluru
12Oct08

After breakfast, showers, and packing up we were finally on our way to Ayers Rock / Uluru. In the daylight our roadhouse campground looked much nicer - especially considering it was free. The eating area was shaded by a nice big ramada and the adjacent stucco building was turquoise with pink trim - it reminded us of the desert southwest US :)

Only 200km to Ayers Rock! Stopped for fuel at Curtin Springs roadhouse ($2.23 per liter - ouch!) and entertained a gaggle of tourists - including a man videotaping the gas pumps. We also stopped for a view of Mt Conner. The land here justifies the "Red Centre" name - beautiful red dirt with scrubby trees and golden spinifex grass clumps. I kept oohing and aahing wanting to stop for photos until Justin exclaimed, "just how much have you seen of Oklahoma?" hmm. Well, I still think it looks exotic.



The only place to stay near Uluru is the giant Ayers Rock Resort complex that encompasses five hotels, a big campground, caravan park, several restaurants and a shopping center. Before we started our trip I had always thought Uluru was right outside of Alice Springs, but it's actually fairly remote, so the resort is a hub of activity. The national park itself is owned by native Aborigine tribes and leased back to the government. Most of the land it covers is restricted as sacred so you can't camp in the park itself or wander off the few trails.

In Adelaide I browsed through a book on Aboriginal rock art that strongly recommended a self-guided rock art tour pamphlet that you could get at the visitor's center, but after much searching I was finally told that it had been out of print for a couple years. Probably due to increased restrictions on sacred sites.

So, disappointed at the lack of information we could get to guide us around the park (seems like collusion with the tour operators) we headed out for the 9km walk around the base of Uluru. However any disappointment quickly vanished as we approached it. Uluru is truly an awesome sight, towering over the flat plain around it - and of course a photographer's dream! The rock itself isn't completely smooth, but has a somewhat scaly or flakey surface and has eroded in the most stunning way.



When it rains waterfalls cascade down channels and chains of potholes - that in the dry season are stained dark.



And there are many enticing caves and overhangs - most of which you aren't allowed near unfortunately. The whole rock is actually composed of thick sandstone layers that have been lifted into a vertical position, perpendicular to the ground. So on the west and east sides you are looking at the edges of layers, and on the north and south sides you see the flat faces of layers.



The walk around the base took us longer than expected - particularly since I had to take a photo with practically every step! And so instead of watching sunset from the designated sunset viewing area, we watched the famous sunset right at the foot of the rock. I actually thought that this was a better way to experience the amazing range of colors the rock takes on as the sun sets. It absolutely glows and the subtlety of colors is more apparent up close.



Ayers Rock photoset

Australia Summary (so far)

Well, we're way behind in posting our travels on the blog, so here's a brief summary of what's been going on in Australia. We'll come back to this later and post the interesting bits, but just so you guys know what we've been up to....

We fly into Sydney from Christchurch and stay in the Glebe Point YHA hostel. It's reasonably clean, and the staff is quite helpful, but rather impersonal and most of the guests are younger and more party-oriented than either Christina or I. After lots of car shopping, we end up with a 1988 Toyota LandCruiser Troop Carrier. She's not in perfect shape, but the cars have a great reputation over here for durability and reliability. Meahwhile we manage to walk around the Sydney Opera House, see the Botanic Gardens, and satisfy some long-restrained craving for food we just couldn't get in NZ.

After a couple of tedious days outfitting the car, we drive across SE Australia to Adelaide, passing through the Blue Mountains, stopping at a 'High Altitude Botanical Gardens', and seeing our first real small-town bits of Australia.

We spend several days in Adelaide regrouping and getting the front brakes on the car done. After this, we drive up through Port Augusta and into the Flinders mountain ranges. It turns out to be a school holiday week, and the campgrounds are busy! We meet a nice german couple (Lotti and Heike) in Port Augusta, and end up staying in adjacent spots in a couple of campgrounds. They're touring around Australia in a VW bus which they've had shipped over! Given that my first car was a 1975 transporter, I can't resist hanging out and talking shop with Lotti. He's happy to show me the details of their bus' custom setup.

After a couple of days in the Flinders ranges, we drive up through the Gammon ranges, stay a night at Arkaroola - a nature preserve with lots of interesting history and frightening 'hamburgers' - then drive up to Uluru and the Olgas, where we spend a couple of days checking out Australia's most famous natural icon. Then it's on to King's Canyon, Palm Valley, and up to Alice Springs, where we are currently staying and trying to plan out the next few months.

Where on earth are we???

Hi all! Sorry for not posting for so long!

We are currently on the south coast of Australia in Adelaide getting ready to head north into the desert. More on that later :)

Since we're so far behind on the blog I'll probably start posting our current Australia activities as well as continuing to catch up on New Zealand. Hopefully it won't be too confusing. Also I just posted a lengthy (probably too lengthy) account of our last major tramp in NZ. Let us know what you think :)

Cheers,
Christina & Justin

Tramping the Abel Tasman Coastal Track (4 days)

16Jul08

After a short night's sleep we got up very early, raced around the hostel to check out, and headed towards Marahau to catch the watertaxi to our start on the Abel Tasman coastal tramp. The drive to Marahau in the early dawn light turned out to be absolutely stunning – the rosy light reflecting off the still water. We were frustrated that we didn't have time to stop and enjoy it (or photograph it)!

Once in Marahau we checked in for the water taxi and were quickly on our way. The watertaxi is essentially a water-borne bus shuttling hikers to and from the various beaches up the coast in the Abel Tasman National Park as most of the park is inaccessible by roads.



We were going to one of the northern most beach on the taxi route, Totaranui, and so we had about an hour to hour-and-a-half ride. The boat ride turned out to be really fun – much more than just necessary transport. We got to see all the bays and coves along the coast, and the driver took us to a seal colony at a nearby island (with many pups) and into the Awaroa estuary since it was high tide. In the estuary we spotted several large manta rays gliding about – apparently they come into the fresh water to help get rid of parasites. Believe it or not, this large estuary is dry enough to walk across at low tide, and we'd be doing just that on our second day.

By the time we alighted on beautiful Totaranui beach it was time for lunch, but we settled for peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches – haha. The sandflies were murderous - we ate in a cloud of flies with several fantail birds zipping around and even landing on us to catch them. The fantails are a tramper's best friend :)



Totaranui beach has a huge campground that is supposedly brimming with hundreds of tourists in the summer – we had it all to ourselves. After lunch we headed north to our destination for the night, Whariwharangi Hut (try saying that three times in a row). The trail took us across the stream at Totaranui beach, then up the headland for some great views. Then back down to secluded Anapai beach with some large stone outcrops that looked like Easter Island heads.



Then up and over another headland to Mutton Cove beach, and since it was by now low tide we could take the tidal route along the beach and up another headland to Separation Point and the seal colony. And finally we headed west and descended to Whariwarangi Bay and the hut during dusk. On the descent we were lucky enough to spot a native NZ owl, the Morepork. Hoot hoot!






The Whariwarangi hut is a charming historic homestead house that DOC now manages. We foolishly didn't realize we needed to bring candles, but fortunately there were enough candle stubs for us to get by. We had flashlights, but candles are so much better at lighting up the room.



At first we thought we'd have the hut to ourselves, but sometime after dark two german guys showed up. Unlike most of the germans we've met on this trip, they weren't very friendly and just spent the evening talking in german and ignoring us. Oh well – at least they helped us light the cranky wood stove for some heat.


17Jul08
It rained during the night and in the morning, but fortunately stopped before we left the hut. Today we headed south 13km to Akaroa hut and had to hurry to catch the low tide crossing of Akaroa Estuary around 2pm. We started by backtracking to Totaranui beach, partly on the same paths and partly on alternative ones for a change of scenery.



I don't mind backtracking on a trails like this anyways – there is plenty to see and the beaches all look different at high versus low tide. South of Totaranui the trail led us along the beaches of Goat Bay



and Waiharakeke Bay, and then inland around a headland to arrive at the northern edge of the large Akaroa estuary. Even though we were running a little behind schedule we were luckily still close enough to low tide to easily cross the tidal flat. The estuary has to be nearly a kilometer across and full of shell fish that crunched under foot. We switched to chacos to spare our boots, but “real jokers” just walk across it with no hesitation!



Akaroa hut is just on the southern edge of the estuary, and so we had an early finish for the day. A group of three guys were at the hut when we arrived, but they decided to press on to the next hut so we lucked out and had the whole place to ourselves. And before they left they gave us some candles :)

Before dark, we walked out towards the ocean to watch the tide come in to the estuary – and it comes in very quickly. There is a little settlement of homes nearby and a tourist lodge.



Akaroa hut is very nice with great views and a central stove that heated up the whole place making for a cosy evening.




18Jul08
Today we hiked 21km south to Anchorage hut. We intentionally got off to a slow start in order to arrive at the Onetahuti tidal crossing at lowish tide. We started by hiking inland for awhile and our hopes of stopping at the lodge cafe for a coffee were dashed by the high tide! Oh well, we didn't *really* need it!

We arrived at Onetahuti stream to find that we didn't need to worry about crossing it as it's fairly small. We stopped for lunch on the beach here and contemplated taking some unguarded kayaks for a spin, but good manners got the better of us and we trudged ahead on foot instead.



Next up was Bark Bay which has an inland “all-tides” track, but since it was low-tide I wanted to take the shorter low-tide beach track... which turned out to be a mistake. We had to wade across a stream that was mid-thigh deep and had a quicksand-like bottom – we sunk up to our ankles – and then across a very mucky estuary plain. So much for the shortcut! Eventually we were back on the main trail headed to Anchorage Hut, but the largest estuary yet was still between us and the hut and we were running out of time due to the slow down at Bark Bay.



When we reached the estuary we were past low-tide, but since the high-tide track took an extra hour and would guarantee us to be hiking past sunset, we decided to push our luck and walk across the estuary hoping not to get flooded by the tide coming back in. This estuary was very large and mucky with lots of little stream rivulets to navigate around, but we made good time and reached the other side before dark and without getting too wet :)



Then it was a quick jaunt up and over a headland to the hut which is located on beautiful Anchorage Bay. Over water-taxi driver told us that around New Year's Eve the bay is bumper to bumper with “boaties” as it's a great holiday spot. It was hard for us to imagine as we walked along the beach watching a fantastic full moon rise.

The hut was nice enough, but unfortunately we had company. A group of six guys had kayaked in with a truckload of booze and food and proceeded to have a loud party (including singing) til late in the night. We were a little irked, to say the least, and jealous of their feast as we nibbled on powdered hummus and stale digestive biscuits! By this the third night we were really running out of food and had to budget ourselves for the next day.

19Jul08
Woke up this morning to a torrential downpour. Ugh, we still had about 10 km back to our van in Marahau. The party-guys were a little more subdued in daylight, although the Trent Reznor lookalike was coughing and hacking so badly I was worried we catch the plague! To be fair, they were nice enough and tempted us to catch the water-taxi home because of the rain, but instead we put on all our raingear and trudged off for the trail figuring it might let up.

One benefit of the heavy rain is that every little tricky becomes a gushing waterfall. The hike back to Marahau was wet but very pretty and the rain did let up eventually.





By the time we got back to the van we were starving for lunch but all the cafes were closed in Marahau so we had to drive all the way back to Motueka for a big greasy fish and chips, yum :)

Afterwards we headed north to Takaka via spectacular Takaka Hill. We came over the crest and could suddenly see snow-capped mountains and a beautiful green valley below. We checked into a hostel called Annie's Nirvana, which turned out to be kinda down at the heels, but it did have the all important hot showers!

All in all we really enjoyed the Abel Tasman Coastal Track - it was one of the areas we daydreamed about visiting before we started our trip and it was every bit as beautiful as we'd hoped. It's hard to beat palm trees, tree ferns and spectacular beaches.

day 1 photoset
day 2 photoset
day 3-4 photoset

The Green Monkeys in Queen Charlotte's Cowshed

14Jul08
Cowshed Bay to Nelson

You would think that when camping we would wake up early because of the sunlight and unfamiliar noises, but our curtains block the morning light so well we never seem to get that dawn start I imagined back at the trip's beginning. Today, despite our usual slow start, we're determined to walk at least one leg of the Queen Charlotte track. It's a relatively sunny day, and the track itself is supposed to be quite easy. We drive a short distance from Cowshed Bay to where a road intersects the track, pack lunch, then head up a hill.



The track wends its way through the usual DOC-land regenerating bush, and the more overgrown spots are quite shady and cool, while others are completely out in the open. Here and there through clearings, we are treated to views across Queen Charlotte and Kenepuru. The waters are still and undisturbed except for the occasional boat.



Across the water small houses and sheep dot the hills; the views are all quite pastoral. It's very strange to me to look out at this and think of it as a vision of England filtered through New Zealand. I've never been to England, but the views I see call up memories of pictures of English farms, hedgerows, stone fences, and green, green, rolling hills. We stop to eat lunch at the high spot of this leg of the tramp, and watch the clouds drift by.

The length of track allocated for this day's walk is much less than we expected. I suppose it's meant as one of the easier tramps. In any case, we get back to our van much earlier than we had expected. With a couple of hours of sun left, we detour down to the Queen Charlotte side of the peninsula and admire a beautiful little cove tucked away between the hills. There's a tiny pier here; its legs are encrusted with shellfish and dotted with starfish. The water is clear and shallow and almost demands that we come back with kayaks. Across the water a tiny boathouse, palm tree, and dock hint at the bach half-hidden up in the bush.





Eventually a strange assemblage of boats smokes into view. By the time it reaches the middle of the cove, we can make out the details, but they only add to the mystery. It's a tiny fishing boat, engine smoking heavily under the load, a smaller launch, and a tiny flat-topped barge, laden with junk. All of these are somehow lashed together and slowly puttering along. Aboard is a salty-looking guy and a dog which jumps back and forth between the 3 boats excitedly.

We leave the cove and drive out the way we came in, then westward to Nelson. There are far more mountains to climb over than I anticipated from staring at a flat road map, but our slow progress is rewarded by coming into Nelson with the last of the fading day. It's chilly, but the lights of Nelson on the hills are welcoming, and the sunset over the mountains and what must be far-away Farewell Spit is stunning.



We check into the Green Monkey, which turns out to be a really nice hostel, then go out for kebabs at a place recommended by the owners. After a few days of camping it's really pleasant to shower and put on some clean clothes.

The hostel itself turns out to be named in honor of the hosts' less-than-pleasant encounter with a group of green monkeys in Africa. I make a mental note to never take a nap someplace where monkeys could pee on me.

One of the other guests at the hostel is a guy named Charlie, who turns out to be a British expat doing mostly contract IT work in Asia. He's well-read, and we spend some time comparing books we are currently reading. He's going through Thomas Paine's "Common Sense", and I'm dredging my way through David Henry Thoreau's "Walden", and we chat on a bit about them. Charlie's just finished an alpine loop through the Nelson Lakes, and he regales us with stories of trudging through snow. He also suggests we take instant hummus powder along with us as an addition to our tramp food, an idea we are excited about because it's something not sweet, not junky, not granola-ey, not gooey, and not sausage-y.

Eventually the long day gets the best of us and we crawl in bed.



15Jul08
Nelson for a day

Though we've just made it into Nelson, we are already planning to leave. The forecast this morning shows a window of decent, 'mostly-dry' weather for the next 3 days, followed by a period of serious rain. Weather forecasts haven't always been the most accurate here, but it's the best we've got, and we know that if we don't do the Abel Tasman Coastal walk now, we may not get another chance.

The Abel Tasman park is home to lots of stunning scenery which I've been dying to see first-hand since I first started researching NZ, so I don't really mind the fast turn-around. We're coming to one of the parts of NZ I am most excited to see.

The easiest way for us to cover most of the Abel Tasman is to take an 'aquataxi' boat up the coast to near the NW end of the track, then walk back SE out of the park and to our van. We go ahead and book a ride for next morning at 9am. People we ask at the hostel opine that it'll take about 45 minutes to get from Nelson to the Aquataxi launch in Marahau.

This done, we venture out to see a bit of Nelson and buy any supplies we need for the trip. Charlie, our acquaintance from last night, walks along with us to the DOC office/I-site, then heads off on his own errands. It's an overcast but mild day. We book the huts for Abel Tasman, check for any warnings or alerts, then head out and around the town.

Nelson is a bustling, lively little town nestled into the hills surounding the south end of the Tasman Bay with an obvious art scene, lots of cafes, many charming old houses, and plenty of sights to rubberneck at for free. We wander around the downtown for a bit, which is nice enough, although the Nelson Central Post Office and clock tower loom over the rest of the buildings like a prison complex. We head up the main street and walk through the landscaped Christ Church Cathedral grounds, then peek at the church's interior before wandering back out in search of coffee.

Eventually we make it to Lambretta coffee house, with a (surprise!) Italian Lambretta motor scooter mounted over the door. It's a nice break from the busy streets; the coffee is great and helps wake us up. We people-watch out the window, wondering why the 80's fashions which are back are the ones which stunk the worst the first time around. I guess that's what geezerdom does to you.

The rest of the day pretty much passes without note, and aside from hitting the grocery store and cooking dinner, we don't do much besides pre-pack our bags for the tramp.

Marlborough Sounds and Nelson photoset

Unbefouled by Peafowl

13Jul08
Robin Hood Bay to Cowshed Bay

The morning is chilly, but still clear. While our backs are turned during the usual breakfast clean-up, the pea-hen hops into our van. After a few seconds of tense-but-restrained hand-waving, hoping not to stimulate a load-lightening flight response, we chase her back out. Luckily, inspection confirms we acquired nothing worse than a couple of muddy footprints on the floor during her visit. Our van is not quite yet ready to be turned into a poultry house!

North winding along the coast, we drive through skies so blue they almost hurt, stopping periodically to look down and across the sparkling turquoise sea. Each cove, inlet, and bay is its own little world. A few of them have houses; many are unpeopled. The area we are driving through is part of the Marlborough Sound region, and here the land and the sea so intertwine that the coastline seems a perfect example of a real-world fractal as described by Mandelbrot in "The Beauty of Fractals". The land itself is hilly and often steep, rising right out of the water except for tiny half-hidden beaches that can only be reached by boat.



It would all seem idyllic and unspoiled were it not for the fact that aside from a few homes, every slope is either managed pine forest or devastated clear-cut. If you squint your eyes a bit, it's still mostly just green hills against beautiful, almost still waters, but close-up the sterility of the pine plantations is pretty obvious. Aside from the trees, little else grows except a few shrubs and ferns on the roadsides. The number of birds and other wildlife is markedly lower than we've seen elsewhere. I remember looking at pictures on flickr of this area and noting the green, green hills against the sparkling water, but completely failing to remark the fact that the green was plantation and not native.



Even so, it's a most spectacular day. We drive through the sunshine and daydream. Towards noon, we drive into one of the few tiny seaside cluster of homes, and stop for lunch on a gravelly spot down beside the water. We pull our van's table out and sit facing the sea. A few local boats bob slowly and the occasional car drifts by.



Eventually we make it through to Picton. We hurry on west out of town and up the peninsula sandwiched between Kenepuru Sound on the North and Queen Charlotte on the South. Out here it's a mix of rural homes - modest farmhouses with enormous boats parked in the front yards - and holiday bachs perched on the edge of the water. Everywhere along the water's edge continues to be gorgeous, and we agree that the area is at least as striking as the bay of islands if not more so. Marlborough seems to have suffered less of the posh development that seems to be turning the bay of islands into a pretty-but-dull rich-person's playground.

Near dark we pull into a DOC campground on Cowshed Bay and park near the water. So buffered here is the sea from the ocean's surging that the waves barely lap the shore. Tonight's avian camp docent is a weka, who motors over to the van, begs shyly, then runs away.

Midway through dinner, a spanish couple show up. They are very friendly and turn out to be on a weekend jaunt up from Christchurch. It's apparently their first couple of days out in a van, and we do our best to help when their gas stove turns out to be fiddly. The guy drives their van with a great deal of energy, and after observing him spinning his tires repeatedly while repositioning the van within their site, we suggest they move to higher, more gravelly ground near us. After so many nights of going to sleep on dry ground and waking up in a bog, we don't want to see them get stuck. Moreover, as they turn out to be leaving at 6am the next morning, we don't really want to have to wake up at 5:30 and help dig them out!

It's another very quiet night. Though we are perhaps only 20 feet from the edge of the water, the sound of the waves against the land is so slight that I have to strain to hear it as I drift off to sleep.

Crashing Blinds and Curious Peahens

12Jul08
Kaikoura to Robin Hood Bay

It's an incredibly blustery night in Kaikoura. The whitecaps we saw in the fading evening light were obviously a foreshadowing of the storm to come. There's a window with a broken latch in the bathroom adjacent to our room, and the wind that howls about our hostel sucks it open no matter how I try to jam it closed. The venetian blind on that window then proceeds to smack into the frame with thundering crashes at the rate of around 2-3 a minute. Around 2am I get up and raise the blinds. This lets all the heated air in the house whistle out, but at least it's now possible to sleep.

In the morning we find out that the storm winds reached 140 km/hour. The streets are full of debris, including a large sheet of styrofoam trapped under our van. We eat breakfast, say goodbye to Eva and Stephanie, and head out on the road. It's a beautifully clear day, and we are eager to see new sights.

We take a few minutes to see Kaikoura in the daylight. We stop back at the headland we visited last night to see it in the sun, but the parking lot is soon overrun by a 'Kiwi Experience' bus and passengers, so we head back through town, stopping at a small memorial park on the waterfront. The park has a monument to fallen soldiers in WWI, and a walkway lined with arches of weathered whale rib.



Kaikoura was a local center for whaling in the 19th century, and just across the street are a few 'try pots', giant cauldrons used for the rendering of whale blubber. Now they are simply rusting monuments amidst a few quiet trees.



On the way out of town, we visit a locally-popular pie shop, then drive north back towards Picton.



At Blenheim, we stop for groceries and coffee, then strike out towards the coast on a winding 2-lane road. Through little sea-side developments, then up into the coastal mountains we drive in search of a place to spend the night. As the light begins to really fade, we drive into Robin Hood Bay and decide to stay at the very basic DOC campground. At least there's a long drop! Another couple's also parked for the night, but we never actually meet.

The campground is patrolled by a ravenous peahen. The evidence of its daily route is the fact that the parking area is a minefield of peahen-poo. She loiters about the van most of the evening while we cook dinner, peering inquisitively at our activities and waiting for the inevitable or inadvertent handout.



It's nice to be camping for free, but the local sandflies still demand a payoff. I cook dinner while dancing around to keep the worst of them off, then we eat in the van with the windows closed.

It's a beautiful, quiet, star-filled night.

Kaikoura to Picton photoset