Category Archives: Travel

Hiking Kaikoura

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Wednesday 4 March 2026 – The Hapuku Lodge is such a wonderful environment that we both were powerfully tempted to spend the day relaxing. It would have been splendid had the weather been crap; then we wouldn’t have needed any further bidding to remain slothful. However, looking out of our bedroom window,

we could see it wasn’t. So we went for a walk. Obviously.

Kaikoura is set on a peninsula which juts out from the east coast just far enough to make walking round it a decent  distance for the sort of hike we thought we could cope with.

 

It’s about 20km south of the lodge, so we retrieved our car and set off. The plan was to park at the point of the peninsula and walk round it until we got back to the car. However, lots of other people had the same idea and the small car park actually at the far end of the peninsula was full. It wasn’t a problem; we were still going to walk the same distance irrespective of where we started, so we found a spot a kilometre or so back and started from there instead. The peninsula is clearly a holiday hotspot, and I had a chuckle at one place’s marketing of an attraction for passing punters.

The recent snow that had settled on the mountains provided a great backdrop for photos of the very rocky seashore.

At the point of the peninsula, one can opt to walk along the rocks or take the path to the top of the cliffs; we opted to do the latter. It’s a well-presented path to start with, up a reasonably stiff climb of about 50m vertical.

The path then wends its way along the cliff top, past a small and unusually-sited lighthouse

which can only work to the north, since vegetation has grown up to obscure any light it shows in any other direction. The peninsula walk is a popular one; there were plenty of other walkers along it,

all presumably taking advantage of today being the first day of good weather for a while. As you might expect, the views along the way are excellent.

There’s a seal colony on the rocks to the south of the peninsula.

Those brown specks are actually fur seals,

which, as any fule kno, are not actually seals, but sealions. Using the dodgy end of the video capabilities of the phone, one can take slightly ropey video of them doing their sealiony things.

We could see the people who had decided to walk the lower path as they passed a wooden teepee on the shore.

I’m not quite sure why it’s special – there are any number of these things set up in the woods around Surrey, but there it is. Had we wanted to explore further, we could at that point have taken a path down to the shore, but

steps? I don’t think so. We’ve only just recovered from Tongariro.

As we went along, it rather looked as if there was going to be another stiff climb

which looked rather daunting. There’s someone working their way up it in this photo.

Yes, there is.

It frankly looked like bloody hard work, so having climbed a stile to get to it,

we were rather glad to note that one could go round as well as over.

We’d psyched ourselves up for the steep bit, honest, guv; but going round was a much more attractive prospect. The going was a little muddy in places – not seriously, but enough to give evidence of the wet weather that had preceded today’s lovely sunshine. The scenery continued to be wonderful, both looking towards the mountains

and southwards over the cliffs.

Eventually, the path reaches a settlement called South Bay

(I’d call it a town, but there’s no cafe, so civilisation hasn’t quite reached it yet). On the rocks outside South Bay there were several seabirds, which we saw were mainly shags. One, though, we thought was an egret,

and we were wrong. It was actually a spoonbill. Yes, it was.

and it was doing its spoonbilly things, again, captured at the far end of what’s possible with today’s phones.

At South Bay, the path turns back to cross the peninsula from south to north. We passed a house where the post box almost had a turf roof (lichens in actual fact of course)

and another which gave evidence of how windy it normally is round here.

The path led past some splendid agapanthus,

still in flower (most of the North Island agapanthus was over, so it was lovely to see this).

Leaving South Bay, the surroundings change quite significantly

as the path goes through a small pine forest.

Beside the path was today’s Mystery Object;

ramps which we couldn’t believe were a construct of nature. There were actually two of these double ramps and I wondered whether at some stage they were part of a mountain bike trail, creating some jumps for the deluded fools who go in for screaming down steep hills on narrow muddy paths.

We’ll never know.

At the top of the wood, one emerges into the outskirts of Kaikoura, taking “Tom’s Track” to get back through to the north coast of the peninsula.

This led us to a view over the Kaikoura Esplanade

and, blessedly, past a coffee shop, the Bee Box, where we had a small rest and a large flat white.

We were then on the road that runs along the north coast of the peninsula and simply had to walk along to where we’d started.  The walk led past another tribute to Tom

and a striking wooden sculpture

back to the car.

So, that was the Kaikoura pensinsula

and a very pleasant 10km hike it was, too. We headed back to the Lodge and took it easy for the rest of the afternoon before another superb dinner in the restaurant there. The food really was extremely fine.

The original plan had been to take part in a star-gazing session as night fell. However, clear as the day had been, clouds came in to foil that plan. Nonetheless, the moon looked good as it rose in the evening.

That signalled the end of our time in Kaikoura and regretfully we have to leave the lovely Hapuku Lodge tomorrow, to head further south. Stay tuned to see where we go next, eh?

 

 

 

 

 

Wending our way to Windy Wellington

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Wednesday 25 February 2026 – Our next stop would be Wellington, the capital city of New Zealand, which is some four hours’ drive from Napier. Because they’d been such excellent hosts and made our stay at 415 Marine Parade so comfortable and convivial, it was almost a shame to be leaving; but we had to move on. Because we’d drunk quite a lot of theirs, we gave them a bottle of one of our favourite gins, Drumshanbo Gunpowder Irish Gin. Perhaps it might be enough to get Esther back on the gin….

It was a long drive, but a pleasant one.  Since the weather continued to be wonderful, the scenery was, of course, lovely, as is typical of the North Island, particularly as we approached Wellington.

Napier is in Hawkes bay, which is world famous for its wines. We passed several vineyards, which, unlike those seen in Europe, are level, rather than being on a slope. The plants also seem to have a much denser leafiness than is familiar in Europe. Some of the vines were in their nappies (Nappy Valley…?)

actually netting to keep the birds off the ripened grapes. Hawkes Bay is also, according to Pete the gannet driver, the fruit bowl of New Zealand. We passed lots of apple orchards, for example, and some kiwi, fig and olive plantations, too.

We also passed the first wind farm that we’d seen on our travels here. Our road wended its way between the turbines, which was a bit surreal.

We had a serendipitous encounter with a charming village not too far south of Napier, in our quest for a coffee stop. Jane noticed that there was a cafe in Norsewood, just off State Highway 2. I thought that the name might just be, well, just this name, you know? But I was wrong – the village is actually the site of a Norwegian settlement from 1872. We parked up in front of a very quirky building

 

and Jane went into the Information Centre

where a couple of ladies were on duty. She asked them what the story was about Norsewood and they both started to tell her, each interrupting and correcting the other, which was a comedy moment. Long story short, that period in New Zealand’s history saw a decline in people from Britain immigrating and so the government turned to the Scandinavian countries for a source of hardy people who were familiar with forest management – the area was called the “Seventy Mile Bush” but was actually dense forest. So it was that Norsewood came into being on the back of Norwegian immigrants. About 20 years ago a heritage museum was set up to celebrate the history of the place, and the village itself retains some Scandinavian quirks.

There’s also a replica of a Nordic Stave Church. Those of you who followed our Arctic trip will know of the delight with which we discovered these gorgeous churches as we travelled in the Norwegian midlands, and, indeed back in Oslo. This replica was tiny, and not actually constructed at all like a real stave church, but it looked the part from the outside.

It was part of a garden called “Johanna’s World” which is also dedicated to the memory of these early Norwegian settlers. After taking a coffee in the very pleasant cafe, we exited Norsewood (via Odin Street and Hengist Street, incidentally) and continued towards Wellington.

We had chosen our route to Wellington because it took us near the Hutt Valley. Living there is someone whom I last saw in 2006, when we both attended the same music summer school, played in the same orchestra and drank with the same disreputable members of the brass section. Through the tendrils of Facebook we had stayed in the sort of light contact that platform is actually extremely good for, and Andy had got in touch when he saw on FB that we’d be visiting New Zealand; so we arranged to meet. One is never quite certain how these things will turn out, but it was a pleasure to meet him again and find out what had led him from the UK to become a resident on the other side of the globe. He and his partner, Teressa, suggested that we take lunch in Petone, on the outskirts of Wellington, and so we had a great time over a meal in Speight’s and a subsequent drink in the Sprig and Fern. Like our encounter with Jess and Ian, this social aspect was an excellent leavening of the travelling routine.

And so we came to Wellington, where we’re staying at the (very posh) Bolton Hotel. Our accommodation has some kitchen facilities, including a sight to gladden my heart.

These things are important, you know.

The hotel had included some clear, unambiguous and easy-to-follow instructions as to how to use the washing machine, with pictures an’ everyfink, the result of which was nevertheless that we failed satisfactorily to complete our laundry before it was time for bed, so we left it, in the hope that it would have unlocked itself by morning, and got our heads down.

Thursday 26 – The machine had not unlocked itself by morning, but switching it off showed it who was boss and we were able to get our clean and really quite nearly dry laundry out, thank goodness.

Our only scheduled activity for the day wasn’t due until the evening (and you’ll have to wait until the next entry in these pages to find out more about it), so, the ironing done (because our seeking of enjoyment is relentless) we had the bulk of the day to our own devices. Yesterday’s fine weather had rather deserted us,

so we donned rain jackets and we went for a walk. Obviously.

We hadn’t got a huge amount of time to spare, so Jane had mapped out a route that took us round local sights – the government buildings, cathedrals, the waterfront. In general, the area we were in was what you might call typical capital city architecture.

The main parliament building is quite an impressive edifice

faced with a rather fine grey marble. Next to it is another government building, called “the Beehive” whose form is reminiscent of a skep, a traditional woven form of beehive. The building houses the offices of the Prime Minister and other government ministers.

 

Opposite the Beehive is a lawn with sculptures which look like a banana, a mushroom and a carrot

but which are, apparently, supposed to represent a bird’s head, an altar and a canoe. No, really. There is symbolism in this choice: the location is near where the original (Polynesian) canoes landed, where an altar of stones was built. Birds are seen as messengers or links between heaven and earth. So, moving swiftly on….

The next building we passed looked somewhat churchy

but is the government library. Just beyond it is a real church

the Roman Catholic Cathedral. Its interior is rather restrained for a Catholic church

and in a side chapel there was one of those Adorations going on

so we left quietly so as not to get told off again.

Not too far from the Catholic Cathedral is the Anglican one, the new St. Paul’s, which is a vast edifice with rather Art Deco overtones.

 

The interior is light

and has several impressive features:  the mosaic at the far end;

some lovely stained glass;

and a very nice bit of carving in the marble, a tribute to the building industry of New Zealand.

Also, up a side corridor, is the Lady Chapel, which is very handsome, with a magnificent scent of the wood it’s made from.

It was originally built in 1905 as St. Paul’s church in Paraparaumu (more of this town later in an entirely unrelated way), and moved here in 1990.

Having seen the new St. Paul’s we then walked around the corner to the old St. Pauls, which has definite overtones of stave church in its overall appearance.

A board outside makes quite the claim

which is

absolutely justified. It’s not huge, but it is magnificent. The stained glass here is lovely, too

Our next target was the waterfront, to get to which one passes the railway station.

The walk took us past what was very clearly the working part of the waterfront towards the more gentrified part, with some attractive buildings

and water-based sculptures.

Some kids were disporting themselves in kayaks, playing a game which appeared to involve them shouting aggressively at each other and the tops of their voices

and several of them had taken to pedal carts and appeared to be racing each other.

There’s a decent view over the harbour towards Petone, where we’d been the day before, and Lowry Bay.

There’s a lagoon called Whairepo Lagoon, where the Wellington rowing club has its HQ. It’s encompassed by two bridges, the Love Lock bridge

and, rather more interestingly on the other side, the “City to Sea” Bridge

which we went to investigate, but not before having a spot of lunch, at a decent eatery called St. Johns. There’s a rather intriguing entry to the bridge on the left hand side as you see above,

and the whole thing is the basis for 1993 artwork by Para Matchitt. There’s a lot of it, and it’s difficult to capture photographically, but I hope this gives you the idea.

Our walk back to the hotel took us past the Wellington Central Library, with its striking supporting pillars. There’s a lot of work going on around there, but I bet it’ll be lovely when it’s finished.

Back at the hotel we had time for a cup of Twinings Finest Earl Grey before we had to strike out again, and I’ll tell you all about that…..some other time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gannets – The End Of Napier Show

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Tuesday 24 February 2026 – The activity scheduled for us on our itinerary today was an opportunity to go and see a gannet colony at a headland south of Napier intriguingly called Cape Kidnappers; the expedition was called a “Gannet Safari”, which seemed to be over-egging it somewhat. The idea, it seemed, is that we would be picked up, bussed out to see some gannets and then bussed back again; I wasn’t quite sure where the safari bit fitted in, somehow. Anyway, it was an opportunity to get the Big Lens out, for the first time this trip. I was glad to do so, having lugged the damn’ thing around for over two weeks already.

There had been some confusion about where we should be and when in order to be picked up – was it really necessary to get to the pick-up point in downtown Napier 45 minutes before the appointed time? The answer turned out to be no, and in any case the redoubtable Esther had contacted the Gannet Safari organisation and told them to pull their finger out got them to agree to pick us up at our accommodation. Accordingly, a pick-up bus turned up outside our front door and we hopped on. I had expected it to go via the downtown pick-up point, but actually it just turned round and headed directly out of town. The driver, a very affable chap called Pete, took us to the HQ of Gannet Central

where the safari message was clearly reinforced, and we eventually joined a group who got on a bus

driven by Pete, which was the transport to where the gannets were. As we went, Pete explained how the day would work, and also pointed out a few sights as we went past them. It would apparently be a three-hour excursion, and I was wondering how on earth one could make gannets, lovely things as they undoubtedly are, interesting for three whole hours.

After a short drive on normal roads, the safari element of the excursion was borne in on us; Pete turned off on to a very rough track, signposted “Cape Kidnappers”, which led on to private land, a whole estate with a farm, a golf course and luxury lodges. This is surrounded by a predator-proof fence and is also a nature reserve with a number of indigenous species thriving – including kiwis.

We passed some feral goats

and some great scenery

before Pete stopped at a cliff edge to brief us further.

He told us a story about a rockfall which had happened on the cliffs behind him

and explained that we would have about 45 minutes to view the gannets once we reached the colony. As we carried on, he gave us some information about the gannets, their reproduction cycle and migration. We would be seeing Australasian Gannets, adults and juveniles alike. The adults were able to fly, however the juveniles at this stage could not, but could be seen flapping their wings as part of getting in shape for when they were able to fly. At which point they would migrate some considerable distance – maybe as far as Australia. In order to do this, each juvenile, having been born weighing about 60g, would have to be fed a huge amount of fish by its parents in order for it to develop to a weight of about 3kg; it would end up weighing more than its parents because it needed the extra bulk to sustain it on its long migration while learning to feed effectively.

The track to get out to the colony was very rough and up-and-down and it became clear that the bus was quite a robust piece of kit, having four-wheel drive and a low ratio gear box to be able to cope with conditions. There was, incidentally, a second Gannet Safari bus tagging along as part of this trip – probably a couple of dozen guests in total.

This stopping point was an opportunity to appreciate more great scenery

the peace and quiet of which was disturbed by some very considerable mooing of cattle in the distance. I wanted to capture this on video

but couldn’t do so because there was too much chatting going on between the people in the group. I suffer for my art, you know.

The track led us down to where the cattle were

and we carried on to where we would be able to watch the gannets. Cape Kidnappers was named by Captain Cook, after an incident in which local Māoris had kidnapped a Tahitian boy crew member, thinking that they were liberating a Māori prisoner taken by Cook’s crew. The lad escaped OK and made it back to Endeavour, and the headland was thus christened.

Overall, it was quite a journey to get to the birds, which explained why three hours were set aside for 45 minutes of gannet watching. I wasn’t sure what to expect: would we be on shore watching them diving? Would they be visible only in the distance?

As it turned out, no.

We could get very close to them and they completely ignored us (indeed, we had to duck as they flew by on occasions). There were lots and lots and lots of them;

probably around 5,000 – and that was just this colony; there were three others in the vicinity, too,


but ours was the accessible one.

There were adults

and juveniles.

The adults bond, by and large, for life, and normally produce one egg per year in spring, giving the chick time to develop enough in order to take on the migration as autumn comes. Some adults, though, had laid a second egg. We saw one which was incubating an egg

though it didn’t oblige us by giving us a decent chance to take a photo of it. We also saw a recently-hatched chick,

This one, sadly, would not have time to fledge before it was time for their parents to leave, and so would almost certainly die. With that, and the uncertainties of the challenging migration, Pete said that only about 25 or 30% of chicks reached maturity.

One human-caused survival challenge for the birds had been substantially dealt with – predators such as cats, stoats and weasels. There were many traps set about the place and, in this private landscape, the problem had largely been solved.

We saw some examples of courting behaviour and feeding of juveniles, and these are included in this short video that I was able to produced from our visit.

After this absorbing morning, Pete drove us back to our accommodation and we were able to relax for an hour or two. Then we popped along the prom to take a look at the outside of the National Aquarium, which was just a short walk away. Pete had been somewhat dismissive of the exhibits inside, and anyway Jane was really only interested in the mural which adorns it and, indeed, surrounds practically the whole building. Here are a couple of photos of part of it, to give you an idea.

When we returned to our accommodation, we went and sat in the back yard in the hope that we could meet other guests there and, OK officer I’ll come quietly, have a drink or two. Two new arrivals were already there and over the next hour or so all the other guests came out and we had a pleasant chat with them – six Americans and two Swiss – with Esther and Tom making sure that we had snacks and refreshment.

For our dinner, we’d booked a restaurant recommended by Esther, the Central Fire Station. This was located, intuitively enough, in the old central fire station building which we’d seen on our walking tour yesterday; and a very good recommendation it turned out to be. It was conveniently about a 15-minute walk away, so we were able to walk dinner off as we headed back to 415. On the way, Jane spotted some street art

(again, nice decoration for public toilets), and, in investigating that, we saw other examples around, mainly, we thought, left over from the “Sea Walls” festivals which ran in Napier in 2016 and 2017. So, of course, we had to take some photos of these other murals.

And so has ended our time in Napier. We have to leave tomorrow, and head towards Wellington. In a way, we’re rather sad; we’ve thoroughly enjoyed our time at 415 Marine Parade, which is a very comfortable, well-run and amiable place to stay. But leave we must. En route tomorrow, we call in to visit someone I haven’t seen for over 20 years. I wonder how that will go?