Along the Away

All visits to lovely towns eventually come to an end, and the best way to ease the sorrow of leaving is to have an interesting next destination to head to.
And so it was when I packed up and departed the Roslyn Apartment, back in the car for the northward part of my road trip.

I hadn’t yet explored much of the Otago Peninsula even though there is much to see there, so I decided I would squeeze in a detour in the morning before I hit the road north. It’s possible that later in the day I might end up regretting that decision (spoiler – I DO!) but the day stretched out ahead of me and it seemed like I had time for anything…

So I drove to the Larnach Castle which is New Zealand’s only castle and seemed like a novelty to check out.

The castle was built in 1871 by William Larnach, a banker and politician, for his first wife Eliza. He and one of his sons were horseriding on the Otago Peninsula when they chose the site for the castle – it’s easy to see why they chose it!

It took more than 200 workmen three years to build the Castle and a further 12 years designing and furnishing the interior.

William’s story is quite tragic. His first wife Eliza had all six of Lanarch’s children and then sadly died at the age of 38. He later married her half-sister who died five years – also aged 38! His oldest daughter passed away in her twenties, he remarried one more time but then tragically took his own life in the New Zealand Parliament Buildings in 1898. The family struggled after this and sold the castle in 1906. The current owners bought the castle in 1967.

I paid the small fee to enter the grounds and explore the gardens which were quite charming.

I opted not to pay for entry to the castle as I was short on time and had already gotten my fill with the Olveston House visit. I did visit the tea rooms though and enjoyed coffee and fresh scones.

The grounds have a few little Alice in Wonderland influences hidden in crooks and crannies, such as a Cheshire Cat in a tree. I later learnt that it is a tribute to the New Zealand reference made in Lewis Carrol’s famous work.

“I wonder if I shall fall right through the earth! How funny it’ll seem to come out among the people that walk with their heads downwards! The antipathies I think… but I shall have to ask them what the name of the country is, you know. Please Ma’am, is this New Zealand?”

 

The grounds actually reminded me more of another classic book, one I was a bigger fan of as a child – The Secret Garden. There were so many nooks and hideaways around the gardens, some felt like they were all but forgotten until I stumbled on them.

Time to depart as the day was pressing on and I had a 5+ hour drive to Akaroa. I left the Otago Peninsula with a few sneaky detours down some dirt roads to the coastline and stops by the roadside to snap some pics.

My good friend Leah, a pal I met while travelling in India and who I caught up with in Auckland, told me about a great restaurant called Fleur’s Place which she highly recommended I visit as I was passing. WOW – I’m so glad I did!  It is a small cosy ocean side restaurant at Moeraki. While there I saw books on the shelf that had a photo on the cover of the smiling woman who greeted me – Fleur Sullivan. I thought she must be someone interesting to be on the cover of a book so I did some Googling. This interview reveals a fascinating and inspiring woman!

I sat inside by a pretty window and enjoyed a delicious seafood chowder and fresh bread.

The restaurant is located on right on the water – like, water on three sides! It was incredibly pretty. The site was an early whaling station and is built from gathered collectables and demolition materials from all over New Zealand.

OK, so I referred earlier in the post to regretting taking my time heading north.

I lingered a little longer than I should have, and by the time I hit the road I was pushing hard to get to Akaroa before sundown, which I wanted to do seeing as I didn’t know the area at all.

Holy moly. Worst. Drive. Ever.

So I stopped to fill up with petrol at one point. It seemed a bit strange at the time, but even though the station attendant was right there chatting to a truckie, I had to use the pre-pay station. Actually, I was a little put out at the time, because I didn’t know what the go was with the whole pre-pay system (I haven’t come across it in Australia). I picked up the nozzle up and it wouldn’t work, so I was trying this and that, trying to figure out what I was doing wrong. The station attendant saw I was having trouble and called out the instructions to me- I had to first walk across the station and use the pay machine before filling it up. I thought it was a bit inconvenient at the time, couldn’t he just interrupt his chat to help me out? But it saved me big time later that night, you;ll see! I hit the road and drove straight through to Akaroa… which got HAIRY people. HAIRY.

Storm clouds rolled in. The sun set. The rain shattered down. My petrol tank emptied. AHHHHH!

It got later and darker, the road got steeper, and then every turn became a hair pin.

Every ten minutes or so a set of headlights would rapidly come up behind me, and in the pouring rain, my windscreen wipers on the highest setting, it would overtake me impatiently. I didn’t pass a single car in the other direction. There wasn’t a building or street light in sight for what seemed hours. As I drove up the incline, I steadily cast glances at the navigation system as my car plodded along the road next to a vast nothingness. I couldn’t see a thing out the window but at some point I realised I was on the water’s edge. I anticipated every minute that the car would run out of petrol and for the first time in my life I had a moment where I thought –

“OK. This is how it ends”

I had a vision of the car stopping, and me being stuck on the narrow road, tucked behind a hairpin and a car coming behind me and nudging me off the road into the water below.

But I kept chugging forward, up the incline, corner by corner. I leaned forward in the drivers seat, hands gripping the steering wheel, peering through the rain on the windscreen, praying to see a building of some sort – preferably a petrol station. I searched on my phone, I searched on the navigation system – no luck!

FINALLY I came across a pub at the top of climb. I eased into the car park and ran inside to find them closing. I explained my plight and the bartender shrugged, he didn’t seem too fussed. I stressed the urgency and he said there was a petrol station at the bottom of the hill, about 15 minutes. I figured if I coasted down I wouldn’t need to use any petrol, so I hopped back in the car and did just that. I drove into the petrol station on the whiff of nothing. AND WOULD YOU BELIEVE IT? It was a self serve petrol station. Which I would not know how to use if it had not been for the station attendant earlier in the day. Without that lesson, I would have assumed the place was closed. But I recognised the self-serve machine and was able to cruise in and fill up. Another five minutes down the road, with a full tank of petrol, I was in Akaroa and outside the hostel I was staying at for the night.

PHEW!!!!!

Lessons learned:

• Plan ahead.
• Fill up at every petrol station (almost).
• When driving alone at night, pack a flashlight at the very least!
• Be grateful for the gift of every day.
• And for having a brave heart to make the most of it.

Yes here I am, still continuing on with my New Zealand travel posts. From last year. From August. Oh well!

So there I was in Christchurch, with a week left before my flight to Sydney.

It’d been on my heart list for awhile to embark on a solo road trip. I’ve done this a couple of times in the past (my favourite to Byron Bay in 2007) and a couple of duo road trips (my faves were a week around the Irish coastline with my friend Anna when I was 21, and an almost-week meander around Tasmania with my friend Anette when I was 28).

After a while I start to feel a yearning to hit the road again.

For my last week in New Zealand I knew I wanted to hire a car and road trip. I studied the map and decided to take a mosey down the south east coast of the South Island.

I booked a budget (but not bomb) option on a website called Economy Car Rental. I had a bit of trouble finding the pick-up location because the receipt named one local business pick-up but it actually operates out of another one – it wasn’t really made that clear on their website or booking process but other than that the hire experience was really positive. The guy at the local Scotties Rent a Car pick-up location was very helpful, setting up the navigation console and giving me multiple contact numbers in case I ran into any trouble.

I set my sights on driving south to stay the night in Oamaru. It took about three hours, and I ended up driving pretty much straight through as I left at 3pm and it fell dark before 6pm. It suited me to get into the swing of a long stretch in the driver seat listening to Jack Johnson on shuffle and sinking into the blissful nowhere-to-be, no-one-to-see state of mind after three weeks of jam-packed activity.

I stayed at the Empire Backpackers which I found online and booked that morning. I had a lovely stay there, appreciating the homely vibe and the main street location. I was welcomed by the hosts, given a tour around the common areas and accompanied up to my room whilst generously being offered suggestions for my short visit.

I stayed in a private room which was just perfect – a big comfy bed, heater, lamps – simple but clean and very ‘guest room’ like, it felt like staying with friends. I highly recommend a stay there if you end up in that part of the world.

I walked the main street looking for somewhere to have a hearty meal; the neighbourhood was quiet and cold, but really beautiful – I knew it would look completely different in the daylight.

I had a delicious bowl of soup at the Star and Garter Restaurant and then had an early night – there was not too much happening in Oamaru on a Saturday night!

I was up early in the morning and took a stroll around the corner towards the Victorian Precinct. As is always my morning priority I looked for the perfect cosy cafe to enjoy breakfast and coffee, my absolute favourite meal of the day. There were a couple of contenders, I loved this sign at Steam Cafe, this sums it up ;-)

But I kept on walking as the crisp morning beckoned and I wanted to explore a bit more.

The Victorian Precinct is quaint! Such beautiful architecture; the European kind; the we’ve-been-around-for-ages historical kind; the kind we don’t see too often in the relatively young Down Under territory.

There is a fascinating building called Steampunk HQ right in the heart of the precinct. On the website they explain:

Steampunk is a quirky and fun genre of science fiction that features steam-powered technology. It is often set in an alternate, futuristic version of 19th century Victorian England.

The Steampunk future is driven by unusual steam powered devices – the ‘world gone mad’ as Victorian people may have imagined it. Examples are machines like those in the writing of H. G. Wells and Jules Verne, and in tv shows such as Dr. Who.

Oamaru is an ideal setting for Steampunk art and activities, given the wonderfully preserved and thriving Victorian buildings.

It was closed up when I walked by so early, I would have liked to go into the museum but settled for watching the interactive train/art piece out the front.

The Victorian Precinct feels like a step onto a movie set, the 19th century buildings are mostly made from the local limestone. The community has cultivated the olden day atmosphere of the buildings into the local businesses. Cafes, book stores, art galleries, gift stores. A stroll through feels quite magical.

I stopped in for breakfast at the Woolstore Cafe, in the old Woolstore Complex, a grandly restored storehouse built in 1881, 100 years before I was born. I sat by the window and watched the early morning foot traffic made up mostly of people setting up for the weekend market.

The precinct is located right on a small harbour so I walked around the back of the buildings towards the water.

It was eerily quiet, just me strolling around, the wind cool on my cheeks and my breath puffing out in little clouds in front of me. The texture of the buildings on this side was even more gorgeous, weathered away by the seafront. Old railway machinery rusted away.

When one travels alone, occasionally they must use rusted railway machinery as a makeshift camera stand…

I snapped, snapped, snapped away. Every turn I fell in love with the grungy-ness, the weathered beaten sturdiness of the buildings.

The aching lonliness of the disused, once vital, infrastructure.

It reminded me a lot of parts of England, like Cornwall maybe?

The local tourism authority has done a good job of historical preservation balanced with just the right amount of visitor infrastructure and information. Too much and it ruins the atmosphere; but here, it is just enough.

I stayed for half a day before feeling like it was time to get in the car. If I had all the time in the world I would have been happy to linger. I could have gone to the Steampunk HQ museum, visited the little penguin colony, explored more of the local cafes, but as it was I think it was enough.

I hopped in the car and headed toward Dunedin with my heart set on stopping to see the Moeraki Boulders on the way.

Somewhere before I came to them I followed a signpost to a lookout – I can’t even recall the name of it now, it was one of those whims you take while on the open road. Anyhoo, wherever this place was, I met a lovely sheep.

Check out the view he has, just beautiful!

About half an hour down the road I followed the turn-off signs and parked near the Moeraki Boulders Cafe & Gift shop. There is a direct access staircase to the beach directly next to the boulders which is signposted for patrons of the cafe only. I headed down to take a look at these marvelous mega-pebbles (I made that term up).

Aren’t they spectacular?

The boulders started forming over 60 million years ago on the bottom of the ocean, and over the course of time ended up on shore. The biggest ones are 3 metres in diameter and weigh over a tonne. No wonder they aren’t floating off into the ocean!

It was cool to spend some time walking along the beach watching – and dodging – the waves as they crash over the boulders, keeping them smooth and rounded.

It started to rain after I had taken about a hundred photos so I climbed back up the stairs and took shelter in the cafe, had lunch and watched the ocean from the window. I wrote out some postcards as I lingered over a coffee.

Solo road trip at it’s best.

In my own time, in my own way.