New Zealand, 2008 — Part 2
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Return to Christchurch
On Tuesday, March 25, we began the last part of our long ride in the South Island. We decided to do the trip to Christchurch over three days, although it would have been possible to cycle it in two. Another decision we made was to stay on Route 1, the main road and unfortunately a busy one. We decided this because Route 1 is shorter and easier than the inland route (though not exactly easy) and because it stays nearer the sea.
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Not far south of Kaikoura, the road followed the shore for 15 or 20 kilometres, and it was just as spectacular as the section north of town. The weather was clear and sunny, sun sparkling on the surf, rugged cliffs and rocky beaches, two tunnels and many seal colonies (which you could recognize by the smell, even before spotting the seals!)
Resting along Route 1 |
Looking back along the coast toward Kaikoura
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Then the road turned inland and climbed up a series of steepish hills blocked by construction projects, into high, rolling sheep country. It was much greener and more attractive than the bare hills south of Blenheim. After 70 kilometres of cycling, we stopped for the first night at Cheviot, a pleasant little town about eight kilometres inland.
Into the hills |
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Soft contours of the rolling countryside around
Cheviot
In Cheviot we stopped at a modest little motel-campground, quite nice actually. There we met a young woman from Scotland (though born in Texas) who was traveling on her own through Asia and was now cycling in New Zealand. She told us about an interesting backpackers in Waipara, about half way to Christchurch.
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On Wednesday morning, after buying our first big meat pie and some lamb chops at a good butchery in Cheviot, we headed south. There was again a fair bit of traffic on Route 1 that almost spoiled what should have been a beautiful ride through high, green, rolling country with views of mountains on the horizon. (In fact, Barbara didn't enjoy the ride much, not only because of the traffic, but because of an assortment of aches and pains that nearly spoiled her day.) There was only one climb then a very long coast down to Waipara.
Countryside near Waipoura |
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The backpackers at Waipara was called "Waipara Sleepers" and all the accommodation was in old railway cars, set among little gardens and lawns. It was neat. The weather continued to be beautiful so we decided to stay in our tent, but we were sorely tempted by the rail cars, some with their own little sitting rooms, complete with TV, fridge, electric kettle and toaster. There was an interesting assortment of people at the backpackers as well — Vicki, the Scottish woman, plus an older couple, about our age that is, from Montana (though the husband was French), a young Belgian woman, an American cyclist from North Carolina, and a somewhat embittered, older New Zealand man. Lots of good conversation in the evening. (When Americans meet one another abroad, one of the invariable topics of conversation seems to be our hideous president, who embarrasses everyone who travels outside the country!) |
We called Valerie and Roger again to tell them we'd be arriving in Christchurch on Thursday afernoon, but they were already expecting us; Joe and Eleanor had called to tell them they had seen us on our way!
On Thursday morning, March 27, after saying goodby to folks at the Waipara Sleepers and exchanging photos, we cycled to Christchurch. It was fast, easy cycling, and we arrived so early in Christchurch that we thought Valerie and Roger might not be expecting us. We detoured a bit to the beach at New Brighton, had some lunch, sat in the sun for a while, and then turned up at Valerie's and Roger's some time after 3 p.m.
It was a great visit. They fed us royally, as before. On Friday, we spent a good deal of time packing the bikes; it made us feel a little guilty, since we have spent so much time working on bicycles rather than socializing, on both our visits. But there was time later in the afternoon to visit with Joe and Eleanor, Roger's and Valerie's friends whom we met at the campsite in Kaikoura.
Because of the difficulty of hauling the bikes around on busses, together with all our other gear, Roger and Valerie suggested we consider shipping them to Whaipara, the main town of Northland, on the North Island, where we intend to do our final cycling. Valerie spent time in the morning checking on prices, and in the afternoon Roger drove us and the bikes, now in boxes, to a trucking firm in Christchurch. The bikes were on their way. The next morning, March 29, (Wally's birthday) Roger rose early enough to drive us to a 7 a.m. bus to Picton, where we caught the ferry to Wellington. We were sorry to say goodby to him and Valerie, and we hope somehow to see them again.
Soon after leaving Christchurch, Wally looked for the our pawnshop camera to take a picture, and it had disappeared! We checked with Roger and Valerie, assuming that we must have left it behind. They couldn't find it anywhere. Perhaps it is buried somewhere in our luggage — the thing is much smaller than a package of cigarettes — but we doubt it. Perhaps Roger or Valerie will discover it under a bed or something. Certainly we will not buy another camera on this trip, so if it does not turn up, this is nearly the end of the photos. At least we got through the most important part, our 3800-kilometre tour of the South Island.