Riding The Waimakariri River with the Waimak Alpine Jet Company

I was out visiting with my cousin today.  Tania lives in a beautiful house nestled in at the foothills of the Southern Alps here in Canterbury.  It's probably my favourite house in the world and I took some photographs of it, just to remember the feeling of it when I'm back in Belgium.

So Auntie Coral drove Gert and I out to Tania's and, upon arriving, Tania and Al announced that they had organised a ride for us on a Waimak Alpine Jetboat.

Oddly enough, my first reaction was a nervous 'Really?'

I wasn't sure I was up for a ride on a jetboat that had an '8.1 litre engine and a cruising speed of 80+ kilometers per hour.'  It all seemed a bit fast and slightly insane.

How wrong was I ...

So wrong! 

It turns out that my favourite thing on that wild ride up the turquoise-blue Waimakariri River, on this 29 celsius summer day, was that manoeuvre known as the HAMILTON 360º spin. It's that moment when the jet boat is spun out at full cruising speed and it feels divine.  I'm so glad that it happened more than once too.

It was bliss out there in that world only accessible by boat.  And I can't recommend this jetboat operator highly enough ... and our driver, Greg, he was simply superb.  A lovely Kiwi bloke who made us laugh often but also earned our trust with his professionalism, and his knowledge of the river.

The photo at the start of this post is one that captures that moment when Greg was talking of the 360º spin and the need to hold on ...   Gert couldn't come on the boat trip today but he was happy to wait on the bank and take more than a few beautiful photographs.

It was a grand day out here in New Zealand.  Thank you to Tania and Al, who made it all happen.  I loved it ... intensely, immensely.

News from the New Zealand Road Trip

We have stopped in Oxford, out on the Canterbury Plains, with my aunt.  The aunt I have, quite simply, adored for years.

We have stopped after 1,700kms - the distance from here to Dunedin traveled these last 5 days, via the convoluted route I chose to take Gert on.  In my 8 years away from New Zealand, I've only driven once.  There was that visit to Ireland to see Rob and Angie.  I was a bit nervous back then but Gert put me in the driver seat and told me to drive from Dublin to Connemara ... so I did.  And I loved it.  It does all come back and I used to have a big passion for driving in NZ.

This trip has been something else again and we have driven some truly interesting New Zealand roads.  The Haast Pass, then the road between Fox Glacier and Franz Joseph, and yesterday it was the Arthurs Pass.  All been spectacularly memorable with their 25km hairpin corners, kms of twisty-turny mountain roads, mountain passes, and gradients that once saw me drop the car into second-gear. 

That was this road: 'State Highway 73, and remains an important communication and transport link between Canterbury and Westland. There are 11 bridges with a total length of 406.6 metres (m).  Road gradients range from 1 in 30 to 1 in 8. Five bends through a zig zag section facilitate ascent and descent over the Pass. 

Over the years work has been done to improve blind corners and ease bends. However, the nature of the landscape and the weather can still make the Otira Gorge and Arthurs Pass road a challenging driving experience.'

There have been a million stops to take photographs along the way ... stops so Gert could buy my exquisite greenstone/jade necklace in Hokitika.  Stops for pies, and stops just to wander along some beach or mountainside lookout.

Yesterday, on safely reaching the other side of the alpine pass, we stopped because I needed out of the car for a bit ... and voila, we met a Kea, who was most confused when I mimicked his cry. 

As per the rules, we didn't feed him but we did 'chat' for a while, and that was just lovely. 

Arthurs Pass ... I wondered why I didn't remember anything about that 'interesting' alpine crossing.  I had never driven it before, I just thought I had and I have to say ... I won't be in a hurry to take a 1600CC car across it again.  The little red car is a valiant little car and I'm completely loving it but, by crikey, that was an interesting road.

Absolutely loving the whole driving thing though.

It's summer here.  It's a little confusing but easy enough to embrace.  Auntie Coral has a chicken roasting in the oven tonight, there are new potatoes boiling, and I can hear her cutting up some silverbeet.  She kicked me out of the kitchen but I'm on dish-duty. 

All is good out here on New Zealand's Canterbury Plains.

I'll wrap this meandering post up with a photograph I took of that Kea I met ...

The Simplest Things ...

I woke at 5.30 this morning ... again.  Then again, I was dragging my tired self around at 10pm last night.  So much earlier than happens in Belgium.

My body clock has changed, possibly inspired by this small passion I have developed for lying in bed and listening to the dawn chorus here in New Zealand.

Today we're still on the west coast of the South Island of New Zealand.  This morning, we'll hunt down a glacier - Fox or Franz Joseph Glacier, although access isn't what it used to be since 2 young men were killed by falling ice a year or two ago. 

I remember the awe-inspiring feeling of getting up close to those lumbering icy creatures but I'm happy to remain safely at a distance with my telephoto lens.

The telephoto lens has been the lens of choice (as usual) on this trip ... even when it comes to the intricacies of capturing fern fronds.  I carry my wide-angle lens everywhere but it's rare that I use it.

This morning I was lying here in bed thinking about the air and the water here in New Zealand.  I've been loving them both.  The air ... I presume the quality is all about low population density and the extreme number of trees and plants, most especially as we have traveled through these massive national park areas.

The air is like air on steroids, good steroids.  And finally Gert understands why I struggle so much with his world in Antwerp.  He has seen me in the context of the place where I was born and grew.  But more than that, coming home after 8 years away, I am seeing myself in context too.  It's almost recommended ... that length of absence.

I finally understand why I like wandering so much. What it is about packing a car ... any old car, and just going.  And I see that I am a creature who works with her senses.  Here, where there is so much to see, smell and listen to, I feel like all of me is operational again.

Each region here in the South Island has its own scent.  Fiordland is mostly about the scent of water and intense beech forest-type vegetation, although the Cabbage Tree was in flower while we were there, and it sweetened the air in the most exquisite way.

Westland is more about mountains and forest, with huge sweet bursts of scent from the sea.  The coast here is owned by the Tasman Sea, where waves arrive from their beginnings hundreds of miles away.  Often the beaches are littered with huge pieces of driftwood and the trees on the coast bend inland, twisted by the powerful winds.

The sights ... Gert gets it now.  There is a visual smörgåsbord on offer out there.  We have stopped so many times along the way ... that mountain, this beach, those trees, that view.  I'm driving the little red car, the one that is happiest at 90kms but the days have been longer simply because there is so much to photograph ... not that you would know that, as I work through my fern stage.  I pull over whenever someone comes roaring up behind us.  Traffic is rare and I love having the whole road to myself.

The birdsong has stopped me in my tracks so many times.  There are the dawn choruses but then there are the Bellbird and Tui songs throughout the day.  And last night, here in Fox township, I heard the magnificent mountain parrots calling to each other ... the Keas.  They were about but I didn't manage to find them ... I was mostly too tired to try.

It has been the simplest and most basic of things that have made me happy here.  I loved those things before but now ... now it is more intense and I find myself wondering if I could give up Europe for home. 

That thought is quickly followed by the realisation that I probably couldn't afford to live here and that has been the most stunning thing.  New Zealand's current government has some disturbing policies  that seem incredibly shortsighted in terms of the future here, confirmed by conversations I've had with friends and locals along the way.  Some see it now, some don't but that's for another day. 

This morning it's about finding a good coffee.  I've been rapt with the coffee culture here.  It's an excellent one.  New Zealanders have always been wanderers on a major scale, as seen in our history, and it appears there are some who have gone out and brought back the gift of good coffee.

Anyway, a good morning from this wild coast in New Zealand.  I hope your day is a truly delightful one.