:: Sunday, February 09, 2003 ::

New Zealand

Christchurch to Porpoise Bay

We arrived in Christchurch on 22nd January, where we were met at the airport by the shiny, happy faces of one Stephen Macklin esq. and his ladyfriend Ella. After an incredibly early start in Melbourne, and the 'rigours' of a 3 1/2 hour plane journey, we were whisked off in Steve's 'mechanically sound' car back to the well-to-do suburb of Sumner, where he has been living for the last few months. We were instantly struck with how English it all felt. Despite the sunshine and surf beaches, the rough edge which was present all over Australia was conspicuously absent, and we had to readjust ourselves to the fact that people actually engaged in activities akin to conversation, occasionally even involving the long-forgotten art of listening to their interlocutor. There were even correctly-used apostrophes (A big Australian supermarket chain had reached a new low with Pat'e and X'mas, to say nothing of facility's), and puns (such as the restaurant named Indian Sumner - nice one).


Steve's house is 100 metres from the beach, and he lives with Michael and Aaron, two ultra-friendly Kiwi surf dudes with impenetrable Kiwi accents. Even after a couple of days in their company we were still nodding politely when we didn't understand, but by the time we left (12 days later, no less) we were not only well fed and rested, but understanding nearly every word of what was said. We spent most of the days conserving money - taking walks along the beach (it was too cold to swim) and renting out videos (including 'Freddy got fingered' which has to be one of the sickest, and funniest films ever) Having had a run-in with a car rental company who promised us a too-good-to-be-true backpacker bargain motor which turned out to be too-good-to-be-true, we hired a car. The company was called 'Scotties' and had the slogan 'rates to make a Scotsman smile'. This suited us fine, so we were sold.


After reuniting with Shaz-bag and her chum Simon (34 going on 14 - a true gem), we jumped in the newly acquired pimp-mobile (well, it IS purple!) and headed off down the East coast of the South Island. Our first was Oamara, where the highlight was a colony of Blue Penguins. An hour after dusk (which itself is at 9.30pm here, due to our proximity to the South Pole), the penguins waddle up the rocky beach, and into specially made nesting boxes. The paying public sits in a wooden auditorium and 'oohs' and 'aahs' as the cute little (at 30cm the smallest in the world) penguins do their thing. We camped at a town campsite, and the next day grumbled about how much it had cost, and vowed not to do it again.


The following day, we checked into an equally rip-off town campsite in Dunedin, the main student town in the South Island. As the name suggests, this town has a distinctly Scootish feel to it (tartan shops aplenty), as well as more skateboarding students and pikey drifters than you can shake a stick at. The atmosphere was very chilled out, and we spent a very pleasant afternoon listening to live music and eating cheap curries as the town assembled in the central Octagon to celebrate 'Waitangi day' - the day in 1840 when the colonial government signed a peace treaty with the Maoris. You can't beat a bit of cultcha can you?


After stocking up on supplies in Dunedin, we headed off to the Catlins National Park area, where we finally shook off the shackles of Municipal Campsites and went bush. For the cost of a tent peg, the four of us camped in idyllic surroundings, disturbed only by the legions of sand flies, and fired up by a cask of white wine with incredible loony-juice powers. We ate our Thai red curry - cooked on an open fire - and danced, giggled and snored the night away.


After another scenic coastal drive we pulled in at Porpoise bay, and set up camp in our own private bay, thoughtfully cut out of the bush by the campsite owners. Then we clambered down onto the beach and jumped in. We'd been told you could swim with rare Hector's dolphin here, but we had no idea just how close you could get. At one point we were surrounded as they came to check us out, then they moved away and started leaping and flipping in the air. The locals (who look and act like true Royston Vasey residents, and who wouldn't have looked out of place suckling a piglet) claim that human presence is driving the dolphins away from this feeding site, but to us they looked like they were loving the attention and basking in the opportunity to show off. The highlight came when we were stood watching the surf roll in, and all of a sudden saw seven dolphin faces heading towards us at high speed. They were surfing in on the wave, and only moved out of our way at the last minute - watching them zoom past was truly exhilirating. We tried to take a photo with the underwater camera, and our fingers are firmly crossed that it'll come out, so we can share this special moment with y'all. Just round the corner in Curio Bay was a petrified forest, whose fossilised tree roots (similar to species found in South America) have been used by boffins as proof that New Zealand was once part of the supercontinent Gondwanaland (along with Australia, Africa and S. America). After miraculously cooking baked potatos and corn-on-the-cobs on a rains-oaked public barbecue, we went back to the forest and watched some more penguins returning from the day's feed. This time it was the larger (but even rarer) yellow-eyed penguin. These stand nearly a metre tall, and have a yellow stripe (like a Zorro mask) across their eyes. The penguins obliged us by standing in a DiCaprio-esque 'I'm the King of the world'-style pose long enough to allow much taking of photos, before moving on to their nests. Skill! We only saw two or three though, as the others were scared away by thoughtless local bogans who refused to heed the 'keep off the beach' signs. We'll be sending the inhabitants of Royston Vasey down to deal with them.


:: Barney 12:11 AM [+] ::
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