The First Seventy Years: 140 - Blowholes
Eric Biddulph and his wife Mary saw some of the world's greatest natural wonders during their New Zealand-by-bike tour.
Eric’s book The First Seventy Years can be obtained for £10 by contacting http://mary@bike2.wanadoo.co.uk or telephoning 01484-658175.
All the cash raised by the book goes to a water aid project in Malawi.
At breakfast the next morning it was still raining heavily and we contemplated staying another night. We decided to take a chance on it becoming drier later in the day. Our gamble did pay off which was just as well because we were soon to hit what turned out to be one of the toughest day's riding of the whole world trip.
Our 'New Zealand by bike' sent us off on the road to St. Arnaud. Turning off on to a quiet and pretty lane we were soon facing a series of steep hills; dropping down to small streams to be immediately followed by another climb. These unexpectedly tough conditions caused us to find ourselves still on the road as darkness fell. We eventually arrived at St Arnaud hostel in a pretty shattered state.
The following day we were compensated with a lovely ride to Murchison. After stopping off to sample the exhilaration of walking across the longest swing bridge in New Zealand we pressed on towards the coast. Anticipating a long day's ride ending in Westport we were pleasantly surprised to come upon a hilly-billy building offering accommodation some distance from the coast.
This was a lucky break; it did not feature in the guidebook. We were served up an absolutely massive meal despite the basic and primitive location. Bullar Gorge was one of those locations that is a 'must' for any visitor to this wonderful country. As cyclists we were able to stop at anytime and enjoy its forbidding atmosphere; a privilege not available to motorised visitors. The low, overhanging rocks causing lorry and bus drivers to take special care. The gorge sucked the wind into its open jaws and the ride into a ferocious wind slowed our progress to Westport.
As we edged closer to the coast the landscape radically changed. The dense undergrowth gave way to open landscapes and extensive views across the Tasman Sea. We were rewarded with a very attractive coastline all the way to Greymouth with the Blowholes at Punakaiki Rocks particularly fascinating. The sea is forced up through holes in the rocks causing the water to leap into the air; creating a constant display of spray, this being the only escape route for it.
Realising we were almost three weeks into our holiday in the country we made the decision to catch a bus southwards to Franz Joseph Glacier, a distance of 180 Km. There was still a lot we wanted to see and as always, not enough time. New Zealand must be the easiest country in the world for a cyclist to access public transport. For a fare of NZ$20 and minimum fuss our bikes were loaded on to the specialist carrier and towed by the bus.
The glacier was named after the Austrian Emperor in 1865, the year it was visited by an Austrian explorer. Fifteen kilometres further south is the Fox Glacier. Given the name in 1872 after a visit by the then prime minister of New Zealand. Both glaciers are unique in being so very close to the sea. Nearby a night visit was made to a wood to witness the glow worms exhibiting their wonders of nature.
The gods must have been looking down on us as we again boarded the bike bus for Queenstown. Torrential rain during the journey ruined any chance of scenic viewing. Just as well we had decided not to ride today. Hitting the summit of the Haast Pass the weather changed and we were rewarded with scenery which was out of this world. I longed for the freedom afforded by my bike to be able to stop and take photographs at will but alas this was not to be.
Queenstown is famous for being the adrenaline capital of the world. Every type of sporting activity which can take you to the edge is available. It is also one of the most scenic locations in the world. Situated at the head of |Lake Wakatipu the town exudes a charm of its own. Nearby is the small settlement of Arrowtown, a gold mining town during its heyday in the 1880s when Chinese labourers were brought in to aid prospecting. A gold-era Chinese settlement has been faithfully re-created as a reminder of that period and the conditions endured. There is a two weeks period in the autumn when the region is at its best and we were fortunate to be visiting at that time. The brown and gold leaves of the trees had just turned but were still clinging to the last remnants of life on the branches.
An early morning rise saw us boarding the coach for the long day trip to Milford Sound. Our driver doubled up as cook. An early lunch saw him performing BBQ duty at the side of the road prior to us making the steep and hazardous descent into the Sound. Even our avid cycle touring guidebook author had advised against riding it. Must be pretty treacherous I thought and so it turned out. The grandeur of Milford Sound however, is breathtaking. The peaks which surround it with their numerous cascading waterfalls were an experience not to be missed. A trip out on a boat into the Sound takes the visitor to the base of many of the thundering waterfalls. The resident seals bask on nearby rocks displaying a complete lack of interest in the boats and their passengers. Being blessed with clear skies photography was a delight.
Back in Queenstown a trip in a cable car up to Bob's Peak provided dramatic views of Lake Wakatipu. The highlight of the bus journey from Queenstown to Christchurch was the view of Mount Cook in all its glory; the peak completely clear of cloud. The driver was persuaded to stop long enough to allow me to record it on film. Christchurch as a population of more than a quarter of a million and boasts that it is the most English of all New Zealand's cities. Its botanical gardens house Lake Victoria and Lake Albert. Road names are a vivid reminder of its historical connection to the 'mother country'; Worcester Street; Salisbury Street; Oxford Terrace. There is also punting on the River Avon.
During our time in the city we visited a gypsy fair; a vintage car rally; rode the famous vintage tram and I sat for a pencil sketch portrait. We stayed with surrogate Servas hosts in the absence of Murray, who was in Australia. George and Ali, themselves intrepid travellers, were 'holding fort' and were encouraged to respond positively to any Servas traveller requests. Soon after we returned to the UK they contacted us to say they were going to live in Leeds. We have continued regular contact with them. We departed on a 5 am flight to Sydney en-route to Canada broken by a stopover in Fiji. This turned out to be a disappointment. Torrential rain and high wind caused a boat trip to some of the smaller islands to be cancelled. The highlight of our short stay was a visit to a village and an orchid garden, the brainchild of Raymond Burr of TVs Ironside fame.
