Welcome to the Otago - Night 92

Our journey today took us down the narrow coastal highway down to the town of Haast, the southernmost town on the west coast of New Zealand. After this, the land gives way to the Fjordland national park, an area no self-respecting engineer would even dream of building a road. The way to Haast is amazingly scenic, with views of snow covered peaks to the left and the cerulean blue Tasman

Southern Alps

Sea off to the right. We must have crossed at least a dozen short, fast moving glacial streams along the way. Because of the terrible rains that befall this area, the bridges here are incredibly prone to washing out. As a result the local councils don’t put a lot of money into building what they see as a temporary structure. This means that all the bridges are one lane only and limited to one vehicle at a time. A few of them even share the crossing with a railroad going right down the middle of the road.

The bus made brief pit stops at Matheson Lake and Roberts Point along the way for some photo opportunities. Two hours after leaving we made the hard left at Haast and headed up the Haast River valley to the pass. Very quickly the road becomes wicked steep. Our pace slowed to about 40kmh for a number of miles. The full bus ground on faithfully, all the while Cameron, our driver, unflinchingly pitched the upcoming adventure activities in Wanaka and Queenstown. After 45 minutes of painful climbing we inched over the Haast Pass and out onto the Otago Plateau. The vegetation quickly changed to an arid scrub brush, the hills passing from the verdant green of the western rain forest to the daub brown of the highlands. It was somewhat akin to driving from the Oregon Coast to the high plains of Wyoming in just under an hour.

After a dangerous drive along Lake Wanaka, our tired coach finally pulled into town around 3pm. With most of the bus going straight through to the glimmering lights of Queenstown, only a handful of us brave souls disembarked in the small, lakeside community of Wanaka. The minute I stepped off the bus, I was glad I made this detour. The weather had been picture perfect, mid 80’s, not a cloud in the sky. The lake shimmered blue and reflected the snow covered peaks in the background. The Purple Cow hostel, my accommodation for the next two nights, looked out over the lake. As usual, the first thing I did after checking in was to go on a reconnaissance mission to scope out the place. The natural beauty of Wanaka is unquestionable; it is simply top shelf. My walk revealed, however, a slight stench of affluence rising. For the first time on the South Island I saw new subdivisions full of ultra-modern second homes. What was likely once a quaint downtown is rapidly being transformed into a kitschy, pseudo strip mall of Billabong stores and upscale jewelers. Make no mistake, it is nothing as gross and blatantly bourgeois as say, Whitefish, MT, but it is definitely a place undergoing some radical changes. From what I gathered from the locals, nearby Queenstown has simply become too pricy for most New Zealanders, so they’ve begun to move down the road to Wanaka. It appears that the great pendulum of haute living has commenced its swing and likely within five years it will take nothing less than a 6-figure income to call this place home.

What I Learned Today: The benefit of being on a lax timescale such as I am is that I can afford to stop at the little out of the way places and I can also afford to once in awhile just take a day off, lay on the grass, read a book, basically, relax, without feeling that I’m wasting a day. Even slightly reducing a small portion of travel to everyday life can sometimes go a long way to keep the spirits up and the body lively.

written by

exumenius on January 10, 2008 from Te Anau, New Zealand

from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos

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