Tuesday 3 March 2026 – All we had to do today was to get from the Abel Tasman Lodge down to our next accommodation, which was near Kaikoura. We had a choice – take the quick route to Blenheim and thence south towards Kaikoura, or add extra time and scenery by taking the Queen Charlotte Drive, a “scenic route” which led to Picton, where we had arrived on the South Island three days ago. Our itinerary’s description of the Queen Charlotte Drive as “one of the most scenic drives you’re likely to encounter” sealed the deal, despite that it made the already quite substantial journey an hour longer.
As we left Mārahau we saw a series of the trailers that the water taxi folk, Aquataxi, use to haul their boats around;
the water taxi custom in that part of the world obviously drives a substantial business. Our route took us on roads that had become almost familiar – back through Motueka, Nelson and Richmond before taking a sudden left on the Queen Charlotte drive. In Motueka, we spotted an office of the Kiwi Growers of New Zealand, which sported an interesting poster;
not just normal or golden kiwis, but red ones, too. John, of Kiwi Dundee, back at Coromandel, had told us about them, but this poster was the first time we’d seen any further evidence of them. We haven’t spotted them in any shops, that’s for sure.
The route through Nelson and Richmond led us back near Pic’s Peanut Butter World and past the Nelson Classic Car Museum; since we knew there was a good coffee shop there, we stopped to make sure their quality hadn’t lapsed. It was very busy; it’s clearly a popular breakfast spot.
The route passes Port Nelson and immediately after that Jane had spotted something she wanted to explore – the Boulder Bank Scenic Reserve. As you drive along the highway, you can see a narrow bank of land out to sea; it’s a long thin spit.
I initially thought it was an artificial construct, but actually it’s a natural spit of boulders, formed of the debris of land slips from the Mackay Bluffs, swept southwards by sea currents over 10,000 years. The spit is 8 km long and it is open as a hiking path.
What they don’t tell you about in the guide books is that there’s a waste treatment plant just a few metres from the spit, with, beside it
a substantial effluent pond. The smell was pretty familiar to us as something that we get in our garden when something has gone wrong with our septic treatment plant. There was a suspicious flurry of greenish water visible
but the various water birds didn’t seem to mind at all
and the general miasma seemed to attract quite a lot of insects, as evidenced by the number of swifts (or swallows or martins, they didn’t stop to let us work this out) flitting about in the bushes nearby.
There’s a swamp beside the track that leads to the spit, called the Whakapuaka Raupo Swamp, which provides a nice foreground to the backdrop of the hills thereabouts.
Undeterred*, we carried on towards Havelock, past some excellent views as the road occasionally led up into the hills.
It was clear that this area has a very significant logging industry.
We stopped for more coffee at Havelock. Jane had spotted a coffee cart in what looked like an attractive area, and she was rigfht.
The coffee was good, served by a very, very cheerful chap, whose laugh was akin to an offensive weapon. Shortly after Havelock one reaches the decision point: straight on for the quick route, or turn left for the scenic one. So we turned left, heading on the 34km, very twisty road to Picton,
which would have taken us just under an hour, except we kept stopping to check out the scenery and take photos. As promised, it’s very scenic.
Havelock as seen from the Queen Charlotte Drive
Pleasant to look at, and typical of the general scenery to be seen from Queen Charlotte Drive
A flat part linking the two bodies of water on the drive (called Linkwater, unsurprisingly)
Prehistoric Tree Ferns
I had been expecting some kind of wilderness route, but actually there were habitations and side roads all the way along, and, every so often, a pretty bay.
Eventually, we got to the official Picton Scenic Overview lookout, where we could see Picton nestling in the hills.
I was a bit cross with what I thought was an eyesore in the foreground here, which included a big ugly commercial ship which I hid behind the ferns. It actually turned out to be a rather interesting site and sight as we turned the corner. It’s Waimahara Wharf, in Shakespeare Bay, and
it’s a vast logging operation, which was fascinating to watch, with some clearly specialised machinery at work shifting the logs around.
Picton itself has, as we knew, a major port facility as well – big enough to receive the InterIslander ferries – and the route gave us a good look over it.
In reaching Picton we’d come full circle – out to Abel Tasman and back; but now it was time to head south to our destination for the day. As we went, the countryside changed remarkably, from heavy logging which, we supposed, sustains Picton’s role as a major port facility, to wine country with surprisingly bare hillsides.
There were some pine plantations on the hills, but they didn’t seem to be managed in any way (e.g. having the lower branches trimmed off as they grew); and there didn’t appear to be any attempt at planting more pines on these bare hillsides. Some places were very bare indeed.
We passed a salt works
and some more striking scenery
before heading down to a coast road and some cloudy and rainy weather.
This grey and windy weather lasted us until we reached our destination – the rather splendid Hapuku Lodge, a slice of luxury where we would be spending a couple of nights. We were welcomed by Lisa, who showed us around the place whilst our luggage was unloaded from our car for us and then led us to our accommodation – a tree house.
We have a great view of the hills,
and, remarkably, the snow on top of them arrived just a day ago.
Now, I don’t like to brag (oh, yes you bloody well do! – Ed) but this is a very luxurious place we shall enjoy for two nights. The accommodation is sufficiently nicely done that I’m going to have my work cut out just trying to understand, for example, the Japanese toilet that will cosset our nether regions whilst we’re here.
By the time we got here it was almost time for dinner, and we had a splendid meal. The portions were not excessive, but after dinner we still needed to go for a walk. Obviously. By this time the weather had cleared (good omens for the morrow)
and we took a brisk walk down to the “beach”, where Jane took this great photo,
and we admired the evening view back over the mountains, which we could now see very clearly.
So ended the day. Tomorrow, if the weather is good we shall go for another walk. Obviously. And maybe there will be some star gazing….you never know….
Monday 2 March 2026 – Most tourists travellers arriving on the South Island at Picton* and looking to explore it tend to choose between two common itinerary options: head south to Kaikoura and Christchurch, then down the east coast; or head west to Nelson, Abel Tasman and then down the west coast. We are doing neither of these; or possibly both, depending on how you look at these things. We certainly wanted to visit Kaikoura and Christchurch, but equally we didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to meet Eve and Bill again. That’s why we included Mārahau. Our day with Eve and Bill was lovely, but we had one more day before we had to move on, so Jane did her usual traveller incantations, seeking to magic up something interesting for us to do. As ever, she did an outstanding job and we ended up spending the day around the city of Nelson, about an hour’s drive away, doing a couple of things that would be considered standard for us, but also a couple that wouldn’t.
As a great example of a non-standard activity for seasoned travellers such as Jane and me (modestly polishes nails on Rohan fleece), this does not immediately come to mind.
“Yes!” I never thought we’d cry, “let’s visit a peanut butter factory!”
But we did. And it was splendid fun.
Pic’s Peanut Butter is named after the founder Bruce “Pic” Picot. You can read why he got into Peanut Butter here, but rest assured that he is a Peanut Butter nut. He reckons his product is the best in the world; in New Zealand, the company’s market share is 41%, so there’s credibility in what he says, though Manilife might have a word or two to say on the matter. Whatever, he has created a factory which is also a retail and education centre, which offers tours, so Jane snagged a couple of tickets for us and we set off with plenty of time to get there for an 1130 tour. (Courtesy of a hallucination on the part of our TomTom satnav, we arrived just in time and panting only slightly.)
The tour is hosted by a very lively lady called Tania,
who spent about 20 minutes explaining all things peanut butter. She started with talking about where in the world Pic’s does business, and then invited the guests on the tour to place a red star where they were from. It was quite the international audience.
She then explained about the peanuts (not a nut, but a legume, as any fule kno). They use only hi-oleic nuts, a special variety only grown in a few places round the world; theirs come from South America. Hi-oleic nuts contain a higher percentage of oleic acid, a monounsaturated fat, than regular peanuts and have lower saturated and polyunsaturated fat levels; this means they are healthier, and no additional oils are added during the production. The nuts arrive naked, having been shelled and stripped when picked, and then go into a roaster
before heading to the grinder. Crunchy peanut butter is ground once, smooth twice, and a little salt is added before the butter heads to the various bottling lines. They also make a consistency between the two, which they call “smoochy”.
We were lucky to see the lines in action, as at midday the factory floor emptied – lunch break, presumably. Tania gave us 15 or so minutes to wander the upper floor, where we could, for example, see the original roaster that Pic used when he started as a cottage industry – a stainless steel concrete mixer, with a gas burner underneath!
There are plenty of info boards about the company and the products (natch) but also some with some very left-field assertions.
Peanut butter is useful in removing obstinately sticky labels
Frying a blob of peanut butter removes fried fish smells from your kitchen
Pic’s peanut butter catches 20% more pests than any other brand, so it’s popular for trapping and removing invasive creatures
There’s also an opportunity for people to make their own peanut butter – on the Peanut Butter Bicycle! Your intrepid reporter had a go.
Then it was time for a tasting session
and the group got samples of normal and chocolate peanut butter to taste – and also a combination we’d never come across before and which intrigued Jane greatly: salt and pepper peanut butter.
Tania made sure our tour was fun and engaging, and we left with two free jars of the product. Since we were down to our last few dozen teabags of Twinings Finest Earl Grey (uh-oh!), we called in at a passing Woolworth’s to restock, and look what else we found!
A peanut butter factory is deffo a left-field activity, and Jane had found something else somewhat unusual and maybe unexpected in a New Zealand provincial city:
The Nelson Classic Car Museum. This was amazing – the museum has over 150 classic cars on display and wandering among them is a wonderful experience. If you like that sort of thing, of course. There are various halls and sections within halls:
Vintage and veteran cars by the entrance
The Jaguar display…
…including the Mark 10, a favourite of mine
Classic American cars…
In a classic American setting
English classics in an English setting
Classic sports cars
There are some unusual cars among them
A rear-engined Chevrolet
The DeLorean
Not just any old Reliant Regal
and one that had a special nostalgia for me: a Wolseley 6/110. Dad had one of them, back in the 1960s.
I’m also taken by bonnet ornaments:
Packard
Cadillac
Cadillac
Pontiac Chieftain
Swallow
Excalibur
Stearns Knight
Such fun!
Also: photographic nerdery alert! Here’s a great example of how phones can be better than dedicated cameras. Between two of the halls were some display cases with model cars – Dinky, Corgi, Matchbox, that sort of thing. Photographing the cases with a normal camera was basically impossible because of the reflections. However, I knew of a mobile phone trick, so I took a picture with my phone.
The Special Power that I knew about was that there’s a facility within the phone’s own Gallery app called “remove reflections”. The power of this is quite remarkable, achievable with a single edit.
(I have used photo processing software as well, but that is to present correct horizontals and verticals (thank you DxO for PhotoLab with Viewpoint), something my phone can’t match.)
After these two activities, it was time to do some more conventional things. So we went for a walk. Obviously.
We didn’t have a huge amount of time, but there was a handy hike up a hill just outside Nelson, with the prospect of a decent view over the city, so we headed to the start. It has an unusual destination,
and is a short but steep hike up a decent path.
In the interests of providing data (and, at the same time, demonstrating how I suffer for you), I measured the slope at 15° at its steepest point. That’s one in six by one way of looking at it, or 1 in 4 if you’re a mathematician and understand trig. In practical terms, we ascended 127 metres vertical in one kilometre, in a place called the Botanical Reserve. On the way up we could see that the view was likely to be rather good
and indeed it was.
There’s a monument there
with a needle pointing at a plaque.
It’s not really the Centre of New Zealand – that actually lies about 50km south west, on a golf course – but it was used as the central point for surveys in the 1800s.
The final visit of the day was to the cathedral; we’re not religious but we do like churches.
It has an impressive frontage
and a calm interior
distinguished by some spectacular modern stained glass.
We noticed, on exiting the cathedral, a plaque whose longevity might be cut severely short in the coming days or weeks….
One thing that is (literally and figuratively) striking about the cathedral is its spire, which we didn’t get a good view of. Since I didn’t bring my drone, I borrowed footage from a screen that was on display inside.
Many thanks to Make The Grade for the image. Lovely video, guys.
So that was our day in Nelson – a very unusual and very good one it was, too. The only thing for it then was to head back to our accommodation and test out that salt and pepper peanut butter. It’s very peppery; in our view it needs a bit more salt. It goes very well with jam or with tomatoes, which is apparently Pic’s favourite.
Tomorrow we leave Abel Tasman and head over the hills and, well, not very far away; we’ll get back to Picton and then head south to Kaikoura, thus getting on to the usual eastern route southwards. We have some interesting accommodation booked in Kaikoura…
* Jane has just read that severe winds have resulted in the cancellation of InterIslander ferries today and probably tomorrow as well. My heart goes out to those people affected by this, as the ferries are fully booked and it’s difficult to know what the travel options would be under these circumstances. Gosh, we were lucky.
* And let’s hope our luck continues to hold. We’re due to fly back via Dubai in three weeks’ time….
Sunday 22 February 2026 – Warning! Long Post Alert!
We left the Reef Resort in good order with nothing but a leisurely journey in front of us. Jane had mined Google Maps for some Things To See on the way and it was nice to be able to take our time at the various viewpoints (they’re called Lookouts over here).
The first one was at Hatepe Esplanade Reserve, which sounds grand but was really a tiny cul-de-sac off State Highway 1, down by the side of Lake Taupō. It offered a better view of Motutaiko Island, the Sacred Island that we’d glimpsed on yesterday’s cruise.
The reason it’s a sacred place to the Māori is that Rangituamatotoru, major chief of the Ngāti Tūwharetoa tribe during the 18th century, is buried here. A cave on the island is supposed to be the home of the taniwha Horomatangi, a supernatural being from Māori mythology.
As we wended our way southwards through the hills in the area, we exchanged one big lake for two smaller ones; Lake Rotopounamu is the smaller of the pair, but we never really got a sight of it. However next to it is Rotoaira, for which there was a lookout.
It’s the caldera of a volcano, as is the case with many of the lakes hereabouts, even Taupō. The primary event causing that huge lake was a massive super-eruption, the Ōruanui eruption, some 25,500 years ago. This was one of the two largest volcanic events on the the planet, spreading a blanket of ash and ignimbrite not only over New Zealand, but also over the Antarctic ice.
The State Highway had a few places to stop and gawp, many of which were formally signposted and provided with parking.
A valedictory lookout north to Lake Taupō over the Tongariro River
We also found lookouts that showed Mount Tongariro (more of which later)
and Ruapehu, the next one along, which is tall enough to have snow on it, even now (late summer/early autumn). Google Maps says that there is a skifield on it; the impression we got from skipper Jimmy is that skiing seasons are getting shorter and shorter on the North Island.
The Mahuia Rapids provided an attractive setting,
as did the Tawhai Falls.
The pool that the falls empty into is known as “Gollum’s Pool”, as it was used for the “Forbidden Pool” scene, in which Faramir and his archers are watching Gollum fish in “The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers”. It’s quite impressive.
Our accommodation was the Plateau Lodge, at Waimarino in the Tongariro National Park. We had one of their “King Pod” cabins, which are competently accoutred; not luxurious, but very well-organised.
They even have an external bath!
which we decided might well come in handy in due course. Stay with me for why.
The time was around 1pm by this stage, so we made the necessary phone call to confirm tomorrow’s activity and then went for a walk. Obviously. The main objective was to get to a local store to buy provisions for breakfast for the two mornings we’d be here; the secondary objective was to investigate eateries. Evelyn, the lovely lady who checked us in (having given us a bit of scare when at first she couldn’t find a booking for us), recommended the Schnapps Bar just down the road, so we headed that way, via a local store and a chat with the lady running an optimistically-named coffee stop
who dispensed coffee and some tips about our activity for the morrow.
The Schnapps Bar is just behind a rather dramatic sculpture of a kiwi
and, since it was open
we looked in and had a drink.
It looked like a decent place for a bite later, despite some of the less healthy items on the menu
and indeed we did call back a bit later. The food was very tasty and the portions gargantuan, but that set us up for a quiet evening to relax and prepare for the morrow.
For it was on the morrow (that’s yesterday, now, 21 Feb) that we had what was certainly the biggest adventure of the trip so far, and possibly of the whole thing, although we’re not going to know for another four weeks about that. The Adventure was a hike, but not just any old hike, in fact quite a chunky one. In the weeks leading up to our departure, Jane had persuaded herself that it was too ambitious for her and that she would seek something less arduous. For my part, I was gung-ho, sure that it would be something I could cope with.
Then, only about 24 hours before the scheduled start, our attitudes reversed; Jane decided that she would give it a go, whereas I was increasingly uncertain as to whether I would make a fool of myself. In the end, we decided that We Would Both Do It and to hell with uncertainty and cowardice.
The Camino is a multi-day or multi-week endeavour; the Tongariro crossing is done in a single day, but it’s quite a strenuous hike – 20km, 800m ascent, recommended time at least seven hours. We managed the Camino OK, but that was two and a half years ago, we were younger and had practiced in preparation. For today? Not so much. Also, my knees had been occasionally giving me gip and there is one section of the Tongariro Crossing called “The Devil’s Staircase” – a 300-metre ascent in just one km, with the bulk of the ascent being up actual steps; that was what was worrying me. Also, the weather had been looking a bit cloudy and windy, which would make the high section anything from unpleasant to downright perilous. In the end, the lovely Evelyn, who’d checked us in to Plateau Lodge, convinced us that the weather outlook was good and that we’d be OK, so reinforcing our decision to go for it.
We weren’t foolish enough to undertake such a potentially dangerous crossing by ourselves; we were booked on to a guided tour with Adrift Outdoors, who specialised in guiding mad, impetuous fools hikers on the route. So we checked in at their offices, which were just down the road from our accommodation.
Nice people were there to check us in, check our gear over and make sure that we signed our own death warrant a waiver form. These formalities had to be completed for us and the dozen others who would be part of our group: two other Brits, two Dutch, two Germans, two Americans, two Brazilians, an Iranian-born lady (called Paris – go figure) and an Indian chap. I would guess that we were the oldest and that the Indian chap, Ara, was the youngest. He was certainly the fittest, since he did lots of hiking around Zurich where he was currently living.
We all hopped in the bus to take us to the official start point of the crossing, about half an hour away. On the way over, we got a lovely clear view of Mount Ruapehu, Tongariro’s neighbour, the top of which had been obscured by cloud yesterday. Seeing this made us sanguine that perhaps the weather would indeed be clearer than yesterday.
The group had two guides: a lovely young lass called Cami, who briefed us by the entrance to the walk, in front of a pou whenua, a traditional Māori carved post representing Te Ririo, a guardian of those walking the crossing. She talked about the symbolic meaning of parts of the carving, which encourage respect on the part of people on the mountain.
Our other guide was Simon,
who looked every bit the part of a seasoned guide. Both of them were full of useful information about what we were seeing as we went along. Cami, particularly, was capable of talking non-stop while yomping up the steepest slope. Ah! What it is to be young and fit!
So, off we went.
Simon explained that it used to be 19.4km, but a volcanic eruption in 2012 destroyed a hut on the route and caused a diversion to be put in place, this making it a little longer. More of that later.
The first few kilometres of the hike are a gentle climb along a well-defined path.
After about 3km, one reaches the first toilet stop,
which inevitably has queues of people who should have gone back at the start when the loos were a bit more civilised. Beside the track, among the native grasses, is heather
introduced from Scotland, and now becoming, like so many introduced species, something of a pest, as it rather likes the conditions. Some of the initial track is boardwalk
and leads past Mount Ngauruhoe,
which has an illustrious film career, having starred as Mount Fiji in one of the Mission Impossible films, and as Mount Doom in the Lord of the Rings series.
The easy part of the walk ends at a place called Soda Springs,
named for the water that wells out of the mountain at this point. This is about 5km in, and there are several toilets available, so it’s a convenient place for a breather.
There’s an interesting parallel with the Camino de Santiago here. On the Camino, it’s common to encounter the same people at many stages along the way; some people even develop a “Camino Family” of familiar faces as they go. The chap sitting front right in this photo was nothing to do with our group, but we encountered each other several times during the rest of the day. There were other hikers for whom this was also the case. A notice in the loo confirms that the easy part of the day is behind you.
Moving on, the next section is the start of the dreaded “Devil’s Staircase”.
After a short stretch of it, to give you a feel of what is to come, there’s a kind of decision point,
where common sense or formal guides might suggest, gently or otherwise depending on individuals, that going back is more sensible than going forward. Cami and Simon decided that we were all up for going forward, though I heard Simon quietly saying to Cami that it might be worth trying to get the Brazilian couple at the front to keep them up to speed, as they seemed to be hanging at the back of the group.
As warned by the signs, it got tougher,
with the compensation of some splendid views back along the track.
Eventually, we got to what looked like we might be within reach of the top.
The view of Mount Doom changes a bit – one can easily make out deposits of iron ore towards the summit.
There are more toilets at the top of the Devil’s Staircase,
which bear some bad news.
You’ve made it to South Crater, but your hard work is not over yet! You can see the next section of the climb in the distance.
If you look carefully, you can see some ants crawling up. They’re actually people.
Before you take this on, you have to cross the floor of South Crater, which looks like (and quite possibly is) a desert.
At the far side of the desert is another stern warning.
The next section is even tougher than the Devil’s Staircase, over rocky ground, exposed and with quite substantial gusts of wind. Even on a beautiful, clear day such as we were blessed with, care was needed, and Cami was at pains to suggest that we should keep an eye on the footing, rather than looking round for photos. By and large I followed her guidance, but I did sneak a couple of shots back over the South Crater desert.
So, you breast this slope triumphantly and….
guess what – there’s more to come! The view from this point is pretty sensational
and it was clear that the effort of the climb thus far caused Jane to take leave of her senses. She had a selfie!
We pressed on to what, really, was going to be the highest point of the hike. And…
Wow! The Red Crater. After all the effort to get there, seeing this makes a real impact. The view of it actually improves as you move on.
and at the very highest point, there’s a cairn,
which I christened “Yes, We Cairn”.
The route from this point is downhill. Really, really, downhill, down a steep slope of loose scree.
It’s actually very difficult to convey in a photograph what this section is like. Jane had been dreading it, as she is uncomfortable on scree when it is loose stones over rock and very skiddy. But here the loose stones were quite deep and it actually it turned out not to be quite as difficult as she’d feared. It’s steep, and you have to take it carefully and be prepared to skid a bit; and it’s the part of the hike where most accidents happen, unsurprisingly, but we all made it down OK. I saw a couple of people fall, but not seriously. Again, we were really lucky with the weather; doing this section in rain, high wind or cloud would have been a significantly more challenging proposition.
As you go down you get a fabulous view of the next landmark,
the Emerald Lakes. This was to be our lunch stop, so we had about 30 minutes resting here and eating the packed lunch that Plateau Lodge had prepared for us. Much of this was also spent waiting for the Brazilian couple who were annoying our guides by insisting on hanging back and taking loads of photos. The German couple, unimpressed by the delay, forged on ahead without telling our guides; we eventually met up with them much later along the route, but more time was wasted looking for them before we left Emerald Lakes!
Jane took a photo of the scree slope we’d just come down, in an attempt to convey what it was like.
It gives you some idea, and I also tried from a bit further away. This is photo from quite some way away.
If you look carefully, you can see that there are people going down the slope (actually, some idiots are going up as well!).
Now look even closer…
To get to the point where I took this photo was quite a straightforward walk along the track from the Emerald Lakes.
There’s a climb at the far end – not particularly welcome, it has to be said, but not too brutally steep – which takes you to a view over the Blue Lake
where there are some toilets, with their ever-useful summary of progress.
Halfway, then. The next part is downhill so it must be the easy bit, surely?
Erm, nope.
The track starts off a gentle downhill, and offers great views over Lakes Rotoairo and, in the distance, Taupō
and one can also see Lake Otamangakau.
The views are the only consolation for what turns into a horrendous drudgery of a walk down. It starts off as a gentle downhill gravel track and one thinks, “ah, this is fine”. But then comes what turns into the hardest part of the day: the downhill steps that punctuate the path at frequent intervals. It’s often said that the downhill part of the Tongariro crossing is the hardest, and people nod knowingly, because, yes, going down can be tough on thighs and knees. No-one mentioned the bloody steps! If it’s the Devil’s Staircase on the way up past Mount Doom, then it Sauron’s Revenge on the way down. The thing is that the descent is 1100 metres vertical, whereas the ascent is 800, so you’re going down far longer than you came up.
There’s a breakpoint by some toilets, near which one can see evidence of volcanic activity.
These toilets are new, and replace the last ones, which were destroyed by a boulder ejected from the last eruption, which was in 2012. Much of the ground is not safe to go near, hence rerouting the path, which is longer, more meandering and has more fucking steps in it.
There’s only one thing worse, after several kilometres of going downhill over loads of steps, and that is
reaching a stretch where there are some uphill steps as well. I found this (relatively short, it must be said) uphill stretch really, really hard. And then the downhill carried on, as the landscape changed and became increasingly foresty.
But still with the goddamn steps, both down
and up.
Jane found this final stretch really hard, and was genuinely worried that her knees were going to buckle under her. But we kept grinding on, and eventually – hurrah! – emerged at the end of the track,
where we found others in our group sitting in a kind of stunned silence, overcome with the enormity of the downhill torture.
And that was it – some nine hours after we started, we climbed into the Adrift bus to take us back to their offices.
I’m glad that our King Pod at Plateau Lodge was on the ground floor. I don’t think I could have managed a staircase, if my life had depended on it.
When I was trying to find out, a year ago as we were planning this trip, how tough the Tongariro crossing was, I sought to compare it with Day 1 of the Camino, which is, I think, the toughest day’s walking I’d experienced. The figures would have you believe that the Camino is tougher: 1,400 metres ascent for the Camino vs 800 for Tongariro; 25 kilometres vs 20; 2,900 calories expended vs 2,600; 39,000 steps vs 31,000. And I remember having trouble with the stairs at Roncesvalles on the Camino; but I think the extra 300 metres of descent down those benighted steps is what marks the Tongariro crossing out as being probably the most difficult day’s walking Jane and I have done.
However, did it we did! And we got the satisfaction of that, and the fantastic views as we went. We were incredibly lucky with the weather, which was perfect all day, and the nectar of the Gods has nothing on the mug of Twining’s Finest Earl Grey when we got back to our accommodation.
We had the one more night at Plateau Lodge and the next stage of our trip is to get to Napier, a journey and destination that we were looking forward to. Stay with these pages to find out how it went.
