Tag Archives: Landscape

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.

 

An Aspiring Day

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Sunday 15 March 2026 – You can do all sorts of things from Wānaka – boat tours on the lake, rafting, helicopter flights, waterfall cable climbs, sky diving, paragliding. It seems such a nice town, yet everything seems to be geared towards getting you out of it. Anyway, another option is to find a trail and go walking. So, with a day on our hands, that’s what we decided to do. Obviously.

Caroline looked us over and said that we looked like the hiking types (appearances can be so deceptive), so why didn’t we try the Rob Roy Glacier trail? We took a look at it: 472m gain in 5km, according to AllTrails, is a little on the daunting side, but we decided we’d give it a go. It’s not local to Wānaka; it’s a 50km drive into the Mount Aspiring National Park, and some 30km of that is along a dirt road.

As we left Wānaka, the extent and scope of the A&P show was somewhat borne in on us, even though they were breaking down and clearing up.

Soon we could see the snow-capped mountains in the distance

and eventually hit the dirt road.

The scenery, as you’d expect from heading into the mountains, was dramatic

and so were the driving conditions, occasionally.

The sheep were loose, but there were also herds of deer behind fences, presumably being farmed. We got to the car park to find, to our total lack of surprise, that on a sunny Sunday, lots of other people had had the same idea as us.

We managed to find a space that didn’t seem too obstructive (later, we found that people had strewn cars all along the road, so we needn’t have worried about being tidy after all). A quick visit to the loo there and off we went,

past a rather handsome sculpture of a raptor of some description.

(It’s got a rather Simpsons-narrow-eyed expression, don’t you think?). The path starts off not completely level but at least “Inca flat” – ending at the same altitude it started – beside the Matukituki river

before one crosses the suspension bridge and the path starts to climb.

It’s largely through forest, which means that the bloody trees get in the way of the view

but occasionally they clear to give one a decent view.

Most of the trail is fine, if a little rocky, but there are some interesting moments as you climb.

and then you get to some steps – 126 of them in total.

These are relatively recent additions, to bypass damage that had rendered the trail impassable, so I suppose I’ll let them off. Shortly after the steps, you reach the Lower Lookout, where there are benches and an opportunity to rest and get some idea of what awaits those who carry on to the Upper Lookout.

From the signs and the AllTrails track profile, I was expecting this last kilometre to be rather tougher than what we’d already climbed, but basically it wasn’t. There were a couple of spots where the track became what Ian Burley would describe as “technical” and which I would call “bloody tricky and a bit nerve-racking”.

but we negotiated them without injury and carried on, past a couple of decent views

to

the end of the trail – unofficial  caption: “Thank Christ for that!”. Apart from the sheer satisfaction of having grunted one’s way up there, it’s a great place to get to. For a start, you can sit down and have your lunch,

and read the various info boards about the history of the place, which completely fail to answer the one obvious question that must occur to everyone as they heave themselves up the trail: why the actual is it called the “Rob Roy Glacier Trail”? What has a Scottish outlaw from the 17th Century got to do with an ice field in New Zealand? The glacier is named after the mountain, Rob Roy Peak; the naming of the mountain is usually attributed to one Charlie Douglas, a late 19th-century explorer with strong Scottish connections. There seem to be many Scottish aspects to this region of New Zealand, and this is a classic example.

Anyway….the view is fantastic.

It’s of course very difficult to do justice to photographically; I also tried a bit of video from this lookout and a point slightly below it.

I hope you get the idea.

Having lunched, of course, we had to face the inevitability of getting back down again; down can be so much harder than up.  Actually, it was OK, with a couple of decent views as we went,

but we were glad to see the suspension bridge and the car park again.

Unsurprisingly, there were far fewer vehicles there when we got back to our car.

According to my Garmin, the trail was 11km, and I expended 1300 calories in 16,000 steps. This makes it half a Tongariro, without the utter fucking brutality of That Descent, so we felt pretty good having completed today’s hike in just four and a half hours..

The journey back to our accommodation was as scenic as the journey out,

and we spent the rest of the evening resting.

This was our only full day in Wānaka – the morrow would see us moving on to parts new and even further south on our journey to the bottom of the South Island, via a couple of potentially interesting places – stay tuned to find out which.

 

 

 

 

More Moeraki

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Thursday 12 March 2026 – We didn’t fancy kayaking or paying to join the organised hike from the Lodge, but we had time on our hands, and felt we should go for a walk. Obviously. Showers were (accurately) forecast for the morning, but later on in the day we embarked on a walk to Monro Beach, some 3km to the north of the Lodge and reached along a public path. This is a rainforest walk, through some more rainforesty rainforest. The path starts out quite wide,

crosses a suspension bridge

View from the suspension bridge

and then becomes rather narrower as it wends its way through the forest.

There are some impressively tall trees

but apart from that, it’s just this rainforest path, you know?

It’s pleasant to be out and walking in all that greenery, but frankly, once you’ve seen one rainforest, unless you’re rather better versed than I am in the lore of the rainforest, you’ve seen ’em all, so there was little to remark upon. We reached the beach

and Jane started scouting around to try to find some greenstone. It’s a stony beach so there’s plenty of scope for fossicking. I’m not hugely into that, so I took some photos of the environs. There are some moderately dramatic rocks out to sea

and a colourful jumble of them on land

and it seems that the beach is not unpopular as a walking destination;

possibly because the weather had cheered up since the morning there were a few couples walking the path at the same time as us.

We got back to the Lodge with time for a Nice Cup Of (Twinings finest Earl Grey) Tea before going out on the Lodge’s daily 5pm pre-drinkies walk. This time we were guided by Kirsten, who took us along a path to the lake, via a few notable plants and trees. Fringing the Lodge’s grounds are some very old trees

and Kirsten showed us a few more as we walked the short distance to the lake shore.

As before, fantails and tomtits accompanied us at times, seeking the insects we disturbed. I only had the little Sony camera with me, but managed to capture this shot of a tomtit.

I’m not sure whether the bird is feeling sad or is simply fed up that we haven’t disturbed more insects for it.

Kirsten showed us a couple of locations that could possibly come into their own after dark: one was a Lemonwood tree, which is a favoured perching spot of Morepork owls; and the other was the bole of a fallen tree which is known to harbour glow worms. So, after (another very fine) dinner, we pottered out with torches to see what we could see. Not, sadly, owls; but we found our way back to the glow worm tree and

there they were! Since we were not pressed for time, we experimented a bit with photography of this tricky subject. The photo above was simply captured using Night Mode on a Samsung phone, but I had the Nikon with me and had a go with that, too.

Not a huge difference, to be honest. We tried with a little bit of light

which give a slightly better idea, although the light does overwhelm the glow from the worms; and one with a little less light,

where, if you use your imagination, you might be able to see a little bit of the tree (lower left) as well as the glows. Finally, before we left the poor things in peace, we used the torch to illuminate one;

you can see the sticky threads it has exuded to trap insects attracted by its glow.

That was it for the day, so we retired to sleep the sleep of the just been out for a walk, wondering how much of the following day would be usable for touristing, because the weather forecast was pretty dire.

Friday 13 March 2026 – Forecast:

Reality:

We were, then, reasonably confident that the morning was a write off. However, it was (a) nice to bunk off and take things easy from relentless touristing and (b) a good opportunity to catch up with the laundry, as These Things Are Important, You Know.

However, the forecast was for the day to improve and the rain duly stopped, so, having exhausted all the hikes near the Lodge, we didn’t go for a walk. Obviously. We took up on a slightly left-field recommendation from Donovan, one of the serving staff at the Lodge, and headed out towards Jackson Bay. There’s nothing there apart from a famous fish and chip shop and it would be too late for lunch by the time we got there and anyway we’re eating too much as it is; but we thought it might make a nice excursion – it’s about 65km south of the Lodge.

The route takes one near the small township of Haast which features a petrol station and a coffee shop called the Striker Cafe.

This was only open until 2.30pm and we got there only just in time for a coffee. So we also treated ourselves to cake, which was lovely but which we might, of course, come to regret: “sin in Haast, repent at leisure”. Then we carried on along the coast road to Jackson Bay, which led past some pretty varied scenery.

One stretch of arrow-straight road led through rainforest, which felt distinctly weird.

One thing Jane had spotted en route was a Pioneers Cemetery, so we stopped off to take a look.

Several graves were dotted throughout the woodland, some with headstones, many without.

It was a sight to cause mixed emotions: sadness because it seems a rather lonely and neglected site; but a certain warmth that the contribution of the pioneers to the generation of the area is recognised via a heritage location.

So: Jackson Bay, then. Indeed a small place. It has a wharf, from which Jane hoped to see perhaps penguins or maybe dolphins but didn’t.

The wharf is perhaps not being best maintained.

it has a handful of buildings,

chief among which is The Craypot, the fish’n’chips place recommended by Donovan.

It may not look much, but it seems like it’s a destination restaurant; lots of locals we talked to knew about it. Outside the Craypot is a rather fetching installation featuring many, many abalone shells (the locals call them pāua).

Jane had a quick chat with the owner, who said that he and his family had eaten all of the shells’ inhabitants over the years, having fished for them where they used to live further south. Abalone fishing is currently forbidden in Jackson Bay in order for the population to regenerate; the sustainability of fishing generally is taken quite seriously,

but I take issue with some of their guidelines.

I can’t even run at 9kph for any distance at all, far less walk at that speed.

The road from Haast to Jackson Bay features a few speed restrictions for roadworks, and it’s clear that rockfalls have been a problem.

Also, some of the scenery is markedly different from the rainforest flora we’d seen thus far in these parts.

On the way back to the Lodge, we made a couple of stops in the hope that there was some more scenery to take in. The first was also so that I could indulge in schoolboy giggles.

Actually, this site was a pleasant stop, apart from sandflies, which were occasionally a bit of a nuisance. There’s a lake there, Dune Lake, which we could have walked around had not evening drinks back at the Lodge been making their siren call, but we walked a little of it

to a viewpoint, which has a great outlook on more of that unfamiliar vegetation we’d seen earlier.

There’s also a small marine reserve, Tauparikaka Marine reserve, which is an attractive setting.

The other stopping place was Knight’s Point Lookout, which offers, I suppose, a decent enough view

but has a surprisingly large car park for what it offers, with multiple bus parking and camper van slots. I guess the presence of public toilets might have something to do with it, because it’s otherwise just this decent view.

Back at the Lodge, we had our final, again very fine, dinner as the sun (which by now had made an appearance) set over the excellent view from the dining room.

These will be our final images from the Wilderness Lodge at Lake Moeraki. Tomorrow, we move on, again further south, and the pace of events picks up somewhat – no more three-night stays as we make our way down to and round the south coast. We have just over a week left in this lovely country and, we hope, lots more to see and enjoy, so stay with us for the rest of the trip, won’t you?