International Antarctic Centre

A day before we were due to fly home, we took some time to visit the International Antarctic Centre at Christchurch Airport.

There's plenty to see and do. There are static displays that all seem to have sled (ski-doo) of some sort in them and others that aren't so static. The 'Antarctic Storm Experience' is essentially a big fridge with a bunch of fans that made us feel like we were in Calgary again (only not as cold). Harry was very interested in the igloo, the sled & the icy slide, but wasn't so keen when they cranked up the storm.

The cente also has a Little Penguin rescue facility. You'd think we'd seen enough penguins on the trip already, but they don't loose their amusement factor.

Everyone's favourite activity was the Hagglund ride. It's pretty rough and tumble but that's most of the fun of it, particularly when you're nearly 3.

One of the more interesting displays is all about the USAF Hercules LC-130 aircraft that do the supply flights from Christchurch to Antarctic every summer. The US Antarctic Program Christchurch HQ is right across the road. There were not one, but three orange tailed LC-130s parked just on the other side of the fence. We even saw one of them take off. Fully loaded it was struggling to climb & I thought if would clip the trees at the end of the runway (in Ashburton!).

So that was that for yet another trip to New Zealand. We have great memories and some wonderful photos to show for it. I wonder where our next NZ experience will take us......

Arthur's Pass

The final day of the adventure took us from Greymouth back to Christchurch via Arthur's Pass. It isn't as treacherous as Haast Pass, and the weather was a bit more friendly. Pat and Jeanette has set off separately as they weren't planning to stop and had to detour via Ashburton on the way back.

Arthur's Pass has it's fair share of random waterfalls but nowhere near the scale and quantity of Haast.

The pass is set up well for tourists with plenty of rest areas and car parks for trail heads and lookout points. We stopped at one lookout point where we are greeted by a cheeky Kea.

These alpine birds are very smart and brilliant scavengers. This one knew exactly how close to let us come before we became a threat. Even Kerri was impressed and she isn't a bird fan by any stretch.

Soon after we crossed the Viaduct  that is relatively new. The road before the structure was built was apparently dreadful.

Overlooking the Viaduct is another lookout and car park. There was a camper-van parked up with the occupants cooking breakfast. A family of Kea's were hanging around picking off scraps the people were giving them (despite all the signs saying "Don't feed the Keas").

Less than a kilometre from the Viaduct is the summit (background of the photo above). From that point, the road descends into the forest down to the township of Arthur's Pass. The township is pretty much the only civilization in the national park and is a base camp of sorts for hikers and day trippers alike. We had decided to hike up to Devil's Punchbowl waterfall. The trail starts just at the edge of town. The trail leads to a bridge that crosses the stream that runs down from the foot of the falls. The falls are clearly visible from the bridge (below) but we were heading up the the foot of the falls.

This would be a fair test for Harry's hiking skills and stamina. The trail has a couple of hundred steps and is quite steep. He handled it very well and I think he even enjoyed the challenge.

We all made it pretty easily in the end. There's a good platform to have a really good look at the falls without danger. It doesn't, however, stop you from getting a bit wet. Devil's Punchbowl falls was definitely one of the most impressive of the waterfalls we saw on the trip. I still think McLean Falls, all the way back in the Catlins was my favourite but these were an easy second.

The walk back was much quicker, as to be expected. By the time we arrived back at the car, the Kea's were busy being a pest. Fortunately they were being a pest on other visitor's cars and not ours. I'm sure Julie would not have been impressed.

The rest of the drive back to Christchurch wasn't especially interesting. The rugged forested mountains quickly become smooth treeless hills that are more enticing for skiers than sight-seers and hikers. I imagine the scenery is much more interesting when the grey dusty hills are covered in snow in the winter months.

We arrived back in Christchurch mid afternoon. Harry was pretty happy to ride his trike and run around a bit. I think we were all a bit over being in the car.

Greymouth

I snuck out early in the morning to have another go at getting a postcard shot of Lake Matheson. I ran part of the way along the trail thinking I'd missed the opportunity again. It turned out that I has plenty of time. The sunlight hadn't spilled into the glacier valleys so it wasn't quite what I was after. There was a nice mist lifting off the lake.

Fifteen minutes later the sun started to creep into view. Unfortunately it was doing it's best to ruin the photos. I'd seen some spectacular photos around town and in brochures but I'm convinced they were taken in winter when the sun is much further north (left of picture). I was starting to wonder whether I should have stayed in bed.

Eventually I did get a number of nice photos by hiding the sun behind branches and anything I could find.

The window of opportunity was short because a line of cloud rapidly swallowed the alps signalling the time to leave amazing Fox Glacier.

Back at the ranch.... Packing was pretty much complete so I scoffed down breakfast in time to help load the cars. Harry said good-bye to his new friends before we set off.

The road heading north from Fox Glacier through Frans Joseph Glacier is a twisty but scenic. The cloud bearing down on the area took the incentive out of getting out in the cold breeze and taking photos so we pressed on toward our stop for the night, Greymouth. We cleared the valleys as the Alps started to slide inland. The forests gave way to farmland before we started to see signs of civilization. By the time we reached Hokitika, we knew the time in the wilderness was over.

Hokitika is a bit of a tourist stop for the most part driven by the greenstone (pounamu) industry. Kerri & Jeanette spent a while wandering in and out of the various greenstone shops while we boys watched various trucks and buses go by.

We continued north and made Greymouth by lunchtime. We stopped for lunch at the Subway across the way from Greymouth Railway station. For Harry the timing couldn't have been better. As we finished up lunch, we wandered over to check out the station only for the Trans-Alpine to pull in. It was Dunedin all over again.

"Hello Train!" waving......

The excitement was obvious and he wasn't impressed when the train left and we told him it was time for us to leave as well.

We checked into the hotel/cabin on the outskirts of town and got settled before setting off for Paparoa National Park. Fortunately Harry slept on the way up or we would have been in all sorts of trouble. The coastline was very different what we'd seen to that point. It was just as rugged but the vegetation wasn't anywhere near as lush. Right along the coast there are many small islands, left behind as the ocean chewed away at the mainland.

The centre piece of Paparoa National Park is Pancake Rocks named after the layers of sedimentary rocks that look like giant pancake stacks (apparently).

The rock has been hammered by the ocean and is consequently jagged thanks to both leaching and wave action.

 The big crowd pleasers are the blowholes, of which there are many. There wasn't much in the way of swell when we were there. I can only imagine what it's like when the big winter swells hit the coast.

Harry was tired and had a bit of a fall so he figured it was better to watch the blowholes from my shoulders.

The waves crash against the coast and sculpt great holes in the rock. They start as small blowholes and become great caverns until they collapse into the ocean leaving nothing but small islands behind.

Not far north of Pancake Rocks is the Trueman Track. It descends down the hill through the forest to a small bay with a few surprises. There's a blowhole (above) that was only just working when we were there.

There are overhangs that surround the pebble beach like an amphitheater.

A creek runs off the lip of one of the overhangs and splashes into a rocky garden like a manicured water feature in a suburban garden. The water disappears into the pebbles before reappearing near the water's edge.

Paparoa exceeded our expectations and we have made a mental note to return to explore the area better next time. There are loads of hiking trails that will be much more inviting when Harry is a bit older.

We had some fairly average food for dinner at one of the hotels in Greymouth before heading back to the cabin for our last night on the road.