Category Archives: Travel

Scenic drive to Te Anau

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Monday 16 March 2026 – Our next stop was in Te Anau, which is at the southern end of Lake Te Anau, some 230km south-west of Wānaka and about a three-hour drive. Once again, we spent a great deal longer on the journey than the bare bones of the drive, as we had a couple of interesting towns and an encounter with flesh-eating and occasionally cannibalistic worms to fit into the journey. As well as that, we discovered as we went, there was a lot of scenery to photograph admire en route.

Our first stop was none of these things, though. As we were driving along, Jane said words which sounded to me like “pull in on the left here, there is a bra fence.” I couldn’t make sense of the second bit, but, because I know my place, I followed the basic instruction and pulled in on the left.  And, behold!

There was a bra fence! Its history is rather chequered. It started because some wag put four bras on a fence, and, rather like the padlock bridges which one sees around the world, grew as people informally contributed to it and eventually was deemed an eyesore. It lost, erm, support from the local council who ordered it to be removed. Eventually it was set up at its current location, a private driveway belonging to Cardrona tour guide Kelly Spaans and her partner Sean Colbourne, and a donation facility added. It has currently raised over NZ$200,000 for breast cancer charities.

Having made a small donation to what seems like a good cause, we carried on, over the Crown Range Pass, about 40km south of Wānaka. There is a scenic lookout there, and with good reason. The view is simply staggering.

It even improves as you head down towards Queenstown,

with, at one point, a 270-degree panoramic view.

Queenstown, which is the lakeside town you can see in the first of the photos above, is very well-known as a place to visit. Less familiar to us was the name of the next place we visited, at the suggestion of Phil and Chris, our friends in Brisbane: Arrowtown.  It’s a town with, we learned, a considerable history around gold mining and Chinese immigrants, so we drove in to take a look.  The first challenge appeared to be to find a parking spot, but we followed a P sign which led to a full car park but one with an overflow area. We reached the furthest depths of the overflow area before we found a space, and I was worried that we would have a major hike into town until I looked to my left and saw a building whose picture I’d seen on Google Maps. It was actually this building

which is part of the Historic Arrowtown Chinese Settlement. So we had accidentally parked just a few yards away from a key part of the town we wanted to see!

So: Arrowtown, then. It’s a historic town, and the start of this history is marked.

In August 1862 Jack Tewa (known as Maori Jack) found gold in the Arrow River at this spot, and – who’d a thunk it? – very soon a town of 800 miners sprang up. The context of what follows is the Otago Gold Rush, which brought miners from all corners to this area of New Zealand in the 1860s. By 1865, the first flush was over and the provincial councils were worried about the local economy collapsing, so invited Chinese miners to come over and have a go. Altogether, some 8,000 miners came over and worked in the Otago area. In Arrowtown this was an inglorious episode where the Chinese were invited but not welcome; they were forced to live in huts beside Bush Creek, a tributary to the Arrow River, and endured considerable hostility from the local community. But the Chinese community in Arrowtown held together and developed while in others the Chinese, having made their money, moved away and any sites were abandoned. The site in Arrowtown is a partial restoration of the settlement, and “a mute reminder and tribute to the contribution made by Chinese goldminers and business people to the region’s gold mining, cultural and business history”.

There are several buildings to be seen on a short trail beside the creek. The building shown above, the one that caught my eye, is Al Lum’s Store, which stocked many of the European and imported goods that the Chinese miners needed. There are a few others, some dwellings and some used more for storage.

The main street in Arrowtown has many historic buildings still in use, and is a pleasant area to walk around. I wonder what the locals think about the large numbers of tourists who come to the town; one hopes they appreciate the income this represents.

Queenstown is basically next door to Arrowtown, but there’s still room for some scenery between the two.

It’s even more challenging to park in than Arrowtown. Caroline had recommended that we park at the Ice Arena and walk to the town through the gardens, so that’s what we did (but had to wait for someone to leave before we could park even there).

The gardens form an attractive area, with ponds and statuary

“Kuri”, by Richard Wells

“The Good Book” by Trevor Askin

and an area with some commemorative works in it

Bruce Grant, son of Queenstown, who ascended K2

Scott, Oates and the team who reached the South Pole but sadly didn’t make it back

From the gardens, you can go down to the waterfront and walk back to the town

above which one can see the Queenstown Gondola ascending.  This is one of the many Things To Do in Queenstown, but we only had time for a quick coffee (OK, OK, and a scone, yes) before we had to move on. So we left Queenstown largely unexplored, but we needed to get to Te Anau in time for our date with those worms. The rest of the drive was quite scenic

without any particular Lookouts to look out for; and the scenery softened somewhat from the jaggedy mountains to a more rounded landscape.

The area is very pastoral, with lots of farming. At one point it appeared that neighbouring farms were competing in the number of hay “marshmallows” they could dot around their fields.

We had to get to Te Anau by 4.30pm in order to join a trip to some glowworm caves. We’d seen glowworms in the wild before, but were intrigued by the idea of an exploration into caves.  The excursion is exclusively offered by RealNZ, which offers a number of excursions around the South Island (as we would see during the rest of our trip, actually). We checked in at their waterfront office in Te Anau and joined the happy throng

awaiting the boat which would take us to the caves.

It’s about half an hour’s cruise to Cavern House, where RealNZ have a visitor hut, which they use to brief people about the cave expedition. We kind of knew about the worms and the threads they dangle to ensnare insects attracted by the light they can emit, but we got a lot more detail via this briefing. Jane took photos of some of the pictures they showed us.

Glowworm threads

A glowworm exuding a thread

Among the nuggets we were told:

  • The largest insect they can deal with is a moth. Having ensnared it, they attack it through its eyes, the only way the worm can get at the moth’s good bits
  • The worm’s light comes from a mixture of three chemicals; it takes a worm around 45 minutes to kindle a light and about 10 minutes to extinguish it
  • They are territorial; one worm might knock a neighbour off its bit of cave roof if it encroaches
  • They are also cannibalistic; they might eat the other encroaching worm in order to maintain territory

We were also told that photography was forbidden; I knew this in advance, and so was emotionally prepared for this hardship.

The punters were then split into groups who each did something else whilst another group was looking at the worms. It’s a slick operation that RealNZ runs there, with 11 tours in a day and two to three dozen people in a tour. Since photography is forbidden, I can’t bring you my own photos, but there are some on the RealNZ site.

We had a short nature trek whilst the other group were in the caves, then we filed in (under a very low rock entrance) to the caves, which have been caused, of course, by rushing water. It’s still rushing, and in huge quantities – the name Te Anau comes from these caves, meaning the place of swirling waters – so at first things were very noisy as we followed a walkway past subterranean waterfalls and over rapids, with the glow of numbers of worms already visible. Eventually and in almost total darkness we clambered into a boat on a subterranean lake; this was manoeuvred by our guide pulling on a cable along a channel and into a chamber illuminated solely by the light of thousands, probably tens of thousands, of worms. It was quite the spectacle and the magic would have been ruined had people been trying to capture it on their phones, so the moratorium on photography makes complete sense.

We were glad that we’d made it to Te Anau in time for our cruise, which was a very good experience. The only suggestion I’d make is that they sell photos of the various parts of the trip – the waterfall and the rapids would make good images, and of course the worms themselves, difficult as it is to convey photographically. If they need a jobbing photographer to attempt these things, then they can contact me through this site…..

Only after this trip could we get to our accommodation in Te Anau, the comfortable and well-organised B&B called Dunluce. Te Anau was our base for one more activity, which I will tell you all about in the next entry.

 

Making Haast (Slowly) to Wānaka

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Saturday 14 March 2026 – The morning dawned at Lake Moeraki with bright sunshine, and mist on the lake.

We had to leave the Lodge, but there were birds fossicking about outside our bedroom, and so I had another go at photographing them. There were a couple of Tomtits,

and I finally managed to get a photo of a Fantail fanning its tail!

It’s about 170km from Lake Moeraki to Wānaka, which was our next stop. According to Google Maps, it should take two and a half hours. It took us seven. Admittedly, one of those hours was due to my forgetting to hand in our room key before we left the Wilderness Lodge. I only discovered this at our first stop, providentially just 30 minutes down the road, so we hightailed it back to the Lodge and I slunk in and left the key on an unattended reception desk. Hopefully, no-one will have noticed.

Our first stop, though, was rather charming. Virtually the entire journey to Wānaka is through bits of the country which have the Haast label, so Julius (or Johannes, depending on your choice of AI) von Haast was obviously a chap of considerable pith and moment as far as New Zealand is concerned. There’s a Township, a River, a Mountain, a Pass (which leads to Wānaka) and, oh yes, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. With a visitor centre. To get to Haast, we had to cross the longest single-lane bridge in New Zealand

which is so long it has two passing places along it.

It’s rare to find a visitor centre described as “outstanding”, but this one is, and it’s a description that’s hard to fault. For the centre attendant upon such a small town, it’s huge,

and has a lot of information inside.

The information covers the environment, the ecology, the geology, the history and the wildlife – and it has a lot of each of those.  One animal we’d hoped we might be able to see in the flesh but couldn’t is the Fjordland Penguin, or Tawaki.  The reason we couldn’t see it is twofold: it’s endangered, and therefore somewhat rare; and its breeding season is December so it has wisely buggered off in search of a life at sea. But the visitor centre had an example in a display case

which shows it’s a crested penguin, similar to the Macaroni and Rockhopper penguins we saw on our Antarctic trip, in South Georgia and the Falklands. (Coo! Three plugs in one sentence! Nice one, me!) There’s also some decent scenery outside to be taken in.

After returning the key to the Lodge, we took coffee at the Spiker cafe again before pressing on towards Wānaka. The Lodge had thoughtfully provided driving information, which gave us the very strong impression that there was a lot to see on the route, and Jane’s researches had confirmed this. As well as the formal Things To Gawp At, there were times we could stop and marvel at the landscape surrounding the River Haast

including its confluence with the River Landsborough.

There were three waterfalls to be Gawped at: Roaring Billy

Thunder Creek;

and Fantail.

We had hoped to be able to see the Gates Of Haast, which is an impressive gorge with a road bridge over it; but the road was subject to roadworks and we would have been pretty unpopular had we stopped, so we had perforce to skip that. The final Gawpee was the Haast Pass Lookout, which, we discovered, was up quite a climb. The track to it is through rainforest

and is occasionally steep and clambery.

But were we put off? No! (Well, not since we were half way up by this point, anyway.)

The view at the top is worth the climb, particularly once you combine that with the smug sense of achievement attained through clambering 100m vertical up an average 1-in-7 slope.

Just as we left the lookout platform at the top, three young girls came charging up with some kind of music playing boom box, obviously intent on a bit of a shindig, so we had a narrow escape there.

After the lookout, the road drops down towards Wānaka, skirting two lakes, Wānaka

and Hāwea.

It’s clearly very photogenic, but what also struck us was the complete change in landscape, from green rainforest to tawny grassland. It’s a very sudden and marked change

and this is the landscape surrounding Wānaka. Stopping to gawp at the scenery was the main reason that a two-and-a-half hour drive took us seven hours to complete, and we’re glad that we made a day of the journey. We arrived at our accommodation, the Criffel Peak View B&B, and were made heartily welcome by the very animated host, Caroline, who provided us with tea and gave a running commentary about the state of the town, which, she said, would be utterly heaving, because of the A&P (Agricultural and Pastoral) Show, now probably the biggest show of its kind in the country. Fortunately, we’d taken a bite to eat en route, at the Blue Pools cafe in Makarora, so didn’t need to find a place at a restaurant. But we fancied a glass of something cold and a peek at the town, so we pottered in as the sun set

and found the bit by the lake where all the bars are.

Indeed, it was, erm, vibrant.

but we managed to find somewhere to sit and order a drink, and absorbed the vibe as the light faded.

We headed back to our accommodation and did the sort of thing that occurs to one after a glass or two: we looked at the stars. Well, it was a clear night, and we’re in a different hemisphere from normal, so it’s an obvious thing to do, right?

Photographically, it was always going to be a bit challenging, what with no tripod and that. but we took a few pictures with Night Mode on the phone

Southern Cross visible towards the bottom
Might this be the Milky Way?

and a couple with the Nikon, handheld,

Southern Cross towards the bottom
Maybe the Milky Way?

and the results were not entirely unusable.

That was it for the day, then. We had no formal activity planned for the morrow, but Caroline had planted an idea about what we could do with a day on our hands. So that’s what we’ll probably do and you’ll have to come back to find out what that was.

 

 

 

What, The Actual Fox?

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Wednesday 11 March 2026 – As is becoming a common pattern in this trip, a short journey from one accommodation to the next turned out to be rather less dull – in a good way – than the simple journey of a couple of hours it might have been had Jane not done her usual thing of finding Things To Do En Route.

What we had to achieve was to get from Franz Josef to Lake Moeraki, a journey of just over 100km. Since the journey passes by the neighbouring Fox Glacier, Jane suggested that we should investigate a couple of viewpoints that present themselves on Google Maps. Although the distance between the Franz Josef and Fox Glaciers can be as little as five kilometres up in the mountains, it’s about 25km by road from one township to the other; as usual, quite a scenic drive.

The Fox Glacier township is even smaller than Franz Josef.

There is a Fox Glacier viewpoint marked on the maps; counter-intuitively, one drives 10km away from the glacier to reach it, but, distant as it is, it does offer a decent view of the glacier.

It also offers a fine view of a sweep of the southern alps, and a thoughtful person has installed a sighting device to help you identify what you’re looking at.

In theory, one can see Mounts Cook, Tasman, Dampier and Teichelmann (or, to give them their Māori names Aoraki, Rarkiroa, Rakiroa and Rakirua), but the weather was against us that day. As well as the sighting device, the site has an installation called “The Canoe of the Gods”.

An info board explains how this pays tribute to the myth of the creation of the mountains, which are named after four brothers whose canoe capsized and created the South Island.

We called in back at the township for a coffee and (in Jane’s case) a vast cheese scone (of which someone else ate half – Ed) at the excellent Cafe Nevé, and then carried on to the next viewpoint possibility, which is reached by a walk starting at a car park just outside town. The walk goes by the south side of the Fox River

along a well-made path. (It’s robust enough that one could drive up it and save all that energy; but that’s not allowed, and I’m rather glad, as it’s a pleasant walk. I was careful to walk in a butch kind of way, as I wanted to avoid the Fox Glacier mince.)

It’s exceedingly rainforesty – probably the most rainforesty rainforest we’ve yet walked in this trip.

We saw this sign

which indicates something I’m hoping for back in the UK. The temptation to see how warm the actual spring was by sticking a hand in evaporated somewhat on looking more closely at it.

The path leads gently uphill for about three km to a couple of viewpoints for the glacier, the first of which allows me to indulge in some photographic nerdery, because the light conditions were quite challenging – very dark foreground and bright background.

I had the Nikon with me as well as my phone.  Taking photos with the Nikon requires care – it would be easy to overexpose the bright parts, and once those highlights have been clipped they cannot be recovered. So the trick is to turn the exposure down so that the highlights are not lost. It is possible to do this on the phone, but it requires special buggering about which I can’t be bothered with. So I just pointed the phone at the scene to see how its software dealt with the conditions.  Here are the results.

Nikon, no processing
Phone, no processing

The phone’s Gallery app has its own processing capabilities and so I tweaked the phone image using the “Light Balance” slider. And, once I got to my laptop, I processed the Nikon RAW image using DxO Photolab. Again, here are the results.

Nikon, RAW processed
Samsung, Gallery processed

As ever, a certain amount of personal taste comes into this, but the Nikon image unsurprisingly has a lot more detail in it and I think looks a lot less garish. But putting the processed Nikon image next to the unprocessed phone image shows what a good job a modern software can do to improve phone images.

Nikon, RAW processed
Samsung, not processed

The path carries on from this viewpoint to another one where That Chap is on duty again to make sure you don’t do anything you might regret.

The view was fine enough

but Jane spotted that the clouds were moving leftwards so we waited a few minutes and – lo and behold!

we got a cracking photo of the glacier and the mountains beyond.

Much of the time we were there was accompanied by the soundtrack of helicopters whizzing about, and I wanted to wait to get the perfect shot of a helicopter against the glacier. So we waited and listened for a helicopter. Finally, one came along and flew by the glacier, as I wanted. You can see it in this photo.

Oh, yes you can.

I think that gives a great insight into the deceptively huge scale of the glacier.

Rather than just walk back along the path to the car park, we took a small diversion along what was signposted as a “Moraine Path”.  This was even more rainforesty.

It was a delightful diversion, including taking photos of the tiniest mushrooms you ever did see, which were growing out of a tree.

The path was quite up-and-downy for a while, but then offered the pleasing illusion of being part of a narrow gauge railway track.

It was a very enjoyable walk, but now it was time to head to Lake Moeraki, and our next destination, the Wilderness Lodge there. The weather had closed in a bit by then, and the landscapes on the drive were quite dramatic in places.

The Lodge is basically in the middle of nowhere – the nearest town is Haast, some 33km away.

It has cabins for guests

many of which, like ours, have a lovely view over the Moeraki River.

The lounges are very comfortable

and, as we discovered later, the food is excellent. But before we ate, we joined a guided tour organised by the Lodge, to explore a bit of the local area. Jack, our guide, explained a little bit about the unique nature of the environment. Lake Moeraki is near the west coast, but most of the bits north of it have been exploited in some way – what was forest is interspersed with farmland, which has changed the nature of the nature in it. But the Lake Moeraki area has never been exploited, and so is closer to what it was once originally.

The six of us were enjoined to don welly boots and Jack led us across the Munro Creek

and along a path where he explained about some of the trees we could see.

Silver Beech
White Pine (Kahikatea)
Red Pine (Rimu)
Mature Rimu
  • The Silver Beech, particularly one as old as this one, is a rare tree these days. It’s slow growing and doesn’t bear fruit – it reproduces via wind-blown pollen and seeds. The last ice age, 12,000 years ago, did for them and since that time other, faster growing trees have tended to dominate in the rainforest.
  • An example would be the White Pine, which is not a pine, actually – as any fule kno it is Dacrycarpus Dacrydioides. This particular tree was the basis for some added CGI and use in the film Avatar. It’s a faster-growing fruiting tree, hence being able to compete in the silent, slow war that is a rainforest. (Fruiting is useful – the fruit get eaten by birds, which then distribute the seeds.)
  • Finally, Jack asked us to guess the age of the Red Pine, or Rimu tree. To cut a long story short, we were all out by a long way: the one he showed us, not much taller then him, was about 100 years old – surviving by consuming tiny amounts of resource in order to grow.
  • He also showed us a mature Rimu, which, having got to the point where it reached the canopy, could compete on more equal terms with the trees around it and grow much faster. This one, like the other mature trees he showed us, is thought to be about 900 years old.

Then Jack took us towards the banks of the Moeraki River where he intended us to see a wildlife cabaret. But first we were distracted by a bit of birdlife – a fantail was flitting about in the trees near us, feasting on the insects we people disturb as we crash through their landscape.

I took many, many photos in an attempt to catch it with its tail doing the fan thing, but only managed to get this.

Not perfect, but you get the idea.

By the banks of the river, we had a view back to the Lodge

and Jack started the cabaret act by rinsing the chunks of meat he had in a container with river water and splashing the rinse water in, before throwing a couple of pieces of the meat into the river. Obligingly, the local denizens started appearing to feed.

and soon there were a lot of them.

These were Longfin Eels, the same species we’d seen in the Wildlife Centre in Hokitika, but living wild in the river. It’s worth emphasising that the eels are in no way dependent on this feeding, but they’re happy to join in if the food happens to be there.

Guide included for scale

Drinks and dinner followed our return to the Lodge and, well fed up and agreeably drunk, we retired for the night.  We had no formal activities planned for the next couple of days – a chance to relax, maybe, but my money is on Jane finding Interesting Things for us to Do.