Day 33. Carters beach / Cape Foulwind. What a stinker.

A gorgeous morning so we set off early on the cliff-top hike to see the seal colony at the fabulously named Cape Foulwind.

There are a couple of theories as to how Cape Foulwind came to be saddled with such a moniker:

i) Captain Cook named it after struggling to come to terms with strong gales blowing his ship towards the rocks that lie offshore here.

ii) Captain Cook named it after his bottom struggled to come to terms with an underdone butterbean and cabbage fricasse that had been sitting in the sun too long.

Both seem plausible, but for me the first lacks real credibility.



The walk was terrific. Lots of animals about; horses, sheep, butterflies etc. and loads of colourful birds including a new one on us - a curious (in every sense) chap called a Weka. Looking like a cross between a moorhen and a small ostrich, one particularly inquisitive female caused much amusement by attempting to eat a pebble from Wend's outstretched hand.

After the japes and tomfoolery of the penguins we'd seen earlier on the trip, the seals were something of a let down. I mean, they looked quite impressive, especially so close up, but there was no ball juggling or backflips. Reminded me a lot of some fat tourists I once saw basking on Benidorm beach. Didn't half whiff as well.

Now here's something we didn't know until today; according to some bearded bloke we met near the beach, the west coast of New Zealand is the whitebait capital of the world. Apparantly the fast flowing rivers along this stretch are teeming with the little blighters, and at this time of the year afficianados flock here to gorge themselves on bucketfuls of the stuff.



Churlish not to join in, so we had a right old scoff at a little place overlooking the sea called the Bay House Cafe. If you ever come here, then go, it really was the mutt's nuts.

Spent the afternoon basking on the beach like a couple of fat tourists.

Day 32. Carters beach near Westport. Wet, wet, wet.

When it rains over here it really rains. A light shower can last 3 hours while a bit of a wet day means no sunlight whatsoever and 8 straight hours of the heavy stuff. It's only when the lord almighty empties his great watercannon in the sky drenching everything in sight for a day and a half that the locals will admit the weather's not looking too clever.

So it was with heavy hearts this morning when we heard the forcast was for sustained downpours and severe gails over higher ground.

This put a soggy stop to any more glacier visits and prompted us to keep driving north until we came to somewhere that didn't require flippers and underwater breathing apparatus.

It was a long day.

We ended up on a corking little campsite on Carters beach near the town of Westport, which is as far north as it's possible to drive without falling off a cliff.



A pretty grim day then, brightened only when we stopped off for a break at Punakaiki to visit the dramatic Pancake rocks.

Well, what a con. We were devastated to discover the cliffs here aren't made from eggs, flour and water at all, but stratified limestone, which is a bit tough on the old gnashers. We begrudgingly admit though, that they do make quite a spectacle, especially when receiving such a pounding from the heavy seas.

Hats off to the Nobbler.

Mr Noble has kindly volunteered to step into Stuey's shoes and sort our blog photo's. We thank him from the heart of our bottoms. Ooooh he's so handsome.

Day 31. Glacier country. Five rockpools and a fox.

Visited a couple of this rugged coastline's beaches in the morning before heading up to the Fox glacier.

I don't know, maybe it's my tyneside upbringing, but there's something totally irresistable about a little cove filled with shallow rock pools. Hours, possibly days, could be spent happily lifting stones to see what weirdess lurks beneath.

This was exactly what we found at Jackson's Bay. I managed to snare a couple of fearsome crabs (one of which was a good inch claw to claw) before the missus told me off for not coming home for me tea and hauled me back to the van by my earlobe, saying I'd been a very naughty boy.

The second beach we came across at Ship's Creek was a more open, expansive affair. If you've ever been lucky enough to visit Bamburgh, you'll know exactly the type of thing I'm talking about. The driftwood was the star of the show here. Loads of the stuff was strewn everywhere, some seemed years old, battered by the waves and sculpted by the wind into the most unlikely shapes.

By the end of the afternoon we'd made it as far north as the Fox glacier.

Well, we'd done the massive mountains, the huge fjords and the lakes the size of inland seas, so why not complete the set by visiting a sheet of ice the size of 120 football pitches that's been around for a few million years.





Just what is it with this country and big things?

After walking up to the glacier face, which at roughly a couple of hundred feet tall is impressive enough, we hiked to the top of the valley to get a bird's eye view. And this is where I run out of words to describe big. Maybe I should concentrate on the colours; vivid blues in amongst aqua-marine greens and of course twenty shades of white (we'll not get into the argument as to whether white is a colour, not now anyway).

Our little digital camera simply couldn't cope with so much information, in fact I suspect there hasn't been a microchip invented yet that could handle an image the size and complexity of the Fox glacier.

Magical stuff.

Day 30. Haast beach.

Having arrived in Wanaka in murky, pouring rain last night we decided to have a proper mooch around this morning.

A cracking little town it is too. A bit like Queenstown's less brash, kid brother, it boast a gorgeous mountain backdrop, a pretty shoreline and one of NZ's dodgiest chinese restaurants.

Tempted to spend the day loafing, especially as the sunshine was putting in an appearance, but opted instead to press on for the beaches on the west coast. Therefore spent most of the day traversing the alps for what seemed like the fourtieth time in two weeks.



More waterfalls, more big lakes and more alpine passes rammed with exotic wildlife...oh, it gets sooooo tiresome after a while.

Day 29. Wanaka.

It rained today. A lot.