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.
