MistyNites

My Life in Motion

Archive for the tag “Department of Conservation”

Mount Fyffe

Since moving to New Zealand 5.5yrs ago I’ve summited a good few mountains, often with peaks that are around the same height as or taller than, the tallest mountain of my homeland, Scotland. But the actual altitude gain of the hike varies quite a lot. An impressive summit height is not always reached by way of an equally impressive altitude gain, depending on how far into the mountains the starting point is. But standing on the Kaikoura Peninsula looking inland at the Seaward Kaikoura Ranges of the Southern Alps, my hike for the day looked daunting. For this time round I would be starting close to sea level, and there was a lot of mountain to climb.

 

In February whilst up in Kaikoura for a long weekend, it was the Monday when the conditions were right to head up, and I set off after breakfast down the back roads to reach the carpark. But these back roads were actually a bit of an adventure as repairs following the November 14th earthquake were under way and the road conditions were interesting to say the least. The latter section of the drive on Postmans Road is unsealed and where it went up a steep embankment, my car lost traction on the stony track. Thankfully no-one was coming in the other direction. Parked up and kitted out, I was then ready to set off.

The track itself is a well-defined 4×4 track, quite wide although in places the substrate can be slippy under foot. In the lower section, there was evidence of recent landslips, evidence of the earthquake and some of the rains that have fallen since. It is a steady and zig-zagging climb surrounded by trees with the initial views being of the river valley where the braided Kowhai river snakes through on route to the Pacific Ocean which is also just visible beyond the flatness of the Canterbury Plains to the east. There were portions of this lower section that were shaded, but once the zig-zagging stopped, the rest of the hike was almost completely exposed to the elements, so under a nearly-cloudless sky, I was slapping on the sunscreen like it was going out of fashion. I learnt early on that my Scottish skin burns in little time at all in the Southern Hemisphere summer so from November through to March, I’m permanently shiny with the oil effect of sun lotion.

 

I was enjoying this hike from very early on, and despite being overtaken by a few other hikers, I still felt I was maintaining a good pace. With increasing height, it was possible to appreciate the Kaikoura Peninsula starting to jut out into the Pacific Ocean as well as the peak of Mt Fyffe in the distance, and eventually a lookout was reached on a little flat outcrop of land from where the Kowhai River could be seen snaking across the plains. Continuing on from here, the track continued onwards until it reached an area overlooking Sandy Saddle where the mountains behind Mt Fyffe were the dominant view. The Kaikoura Ranges were a beautiful and staggering view with their steep sides and green vegetation, and sneaking in and out of sight in the valley below was the upper reaches of the Kowhai River. There were puffs of clouds above these inland mountains but otherwise it was exceptionally clear.

 

There was a short flat section before once again the gradient steepened and the track zig-zagged again. The view was staggering in every direction and already I was approaching the 1000m (3281ft) mark and beyond. Then further along the track, a junction appeared where the Spaniard Spur track offers a steep descent down to the Kowhai River. From here it is just a few minutes walk to the Mt Fyffe Hut at 1100m (3609ft) where there is a drop toilet and the ability to sleep, shelter and cook. There was a couple there that had come up the day before in the bad weather and camped the night, waking up to a beautiful sunrise. From here, the view out to the Kaikoura Peninsula was unobstructed and I can only imagine how amazing that dawn view would have been from there.

 

Leaving the hut and several other hikers behind, I continued on up the summit track which is narrower, cutting through a copse, before again starting its long snaking wind up the ridgeline. The stony ground was a slip hazard in places and I passed several people heading down from the summit. The further I walked I could now see some clouds whipping down into the valley between the two lines of mountains and I always find it fascinating watching the clouds form, swirl, then disperse. I imagined what it would have felt like to have been up Mt Fyffe the night of the earthquake as I saw large stones and boulders littered across the path. It’s one thing to feel a large earthquake when you are home in your own bed away from the epicentre, but I think it would have been very different to be in a hut 1100m (3609ft) up a mountain right over the source.

 

Higher still there were some sections of walking through tightly packed bushes, and eventually I reached a sign denoting 1500m (4921ft). It was incredible to look back down at the ridgeline already hiked and the Pacific Ocean was now a huge expanse spreading out to the east. The cloud was really starting to build up now over the valley at times obliterating the view of the neighbouring mountains. But still the track climbed higher until close to the summit it felt like I was walking into the cloud. I reached Mt Fyffe summit at 1602m (5256ft) just as the last people there were leaving, and so I had it to myself.

 

Looking west, the cloud bank was now thick and it swirled upwards to hover above my head where it was dissipating in a wisp that looked like a large wave about to break. Out east though, the coastline was mostly clear and Kaikoura lay sprawled out below me, stretching along the coastline of the peninsula. The Pacific Ocean shimmered by its side. A couple of picnic benches were handily placed to give a rest spot with a view. It was a little chilly now with the altitude and the clouds overhead, and unfortunately the view west was mostly obliterated, but I enjoyed my lunch in peace and quiet, only being joined by another hiker when I was getting ready to leave.

 

As I returned to the track to head down, the swirling clouds gave me sneaky peaks of the mountains hidden behind them and it really split the view in two. There was still plenty of people heading up as I was going down, by now in the early afternoon. The hut seemed deserted when I reached it again and now there were large shadows created by the clouds behind and to the side of me. The best of the weather is always in the mornings in the mountains, so it pays to set off early for the best views. But as the altitude started to drop away, and the track moved south, the clouds were left behind and the sunshine remained, treating me to a very pleasant walk back to my car. The view steadily dropped away again until I was back amongst the trees, snaking my way down the final decline towards my waiting car. I had a long drive back to Christchurch to get under way, and first I had to negotiate the track that I had lost traction on on the way in. Thankfully my car managed the incline in reverse without problems, and picking my way past the potholes, missing verge and diggers, I made my way back to Kaikoura, and set off on the long drive home.

Mount Herbert via Packhorse Hut

Once upon a time, two large volcanoes stood side by side on the east coast of New Zealand’s South Island. As they eroded, the craters formed two large harbours which today are known as Lyttelton harbour and Akaroa harbour. The volcanic remains have become the mountainous playground of Banks Peninsula, a stark contrast to the flatness of the Canterbury Plains which sit immediately to the west. Christchurch, the south island’s largest city, nestles just the other side of the Port Hills, making the peninsula a perfect spot for getaways from the city.

Standing proudly behind Diamond Harbour, Banks Peninsula’s tallest peak, Mount Herbert is a great choice for hiking. With a choice of four main routes up, I am slowly but surely working my way through the route options. I first summited Mt Herbert via Orton Bradley Park, a track that requires private transport to get to the starting point, and since then, I took the most popular route up from Diamond Harbour which can be reached by public transport from Christchurch. I later found out about another route up from Kaituna Valley and this again requires your own transport to reach the starting point. Unlike the other two routes which start from the northern aspect, this third route starts from the south.

From Christchurch city centre it is a 45min drive curving round the side of the Port Hills on the Akaroa road before cutting up the Kaituna Valley road past open farmland, eventually arriving at Parkinson’s Road. It was a hot sunny February day when I pulled up around 11am and there was barely any space left to park. I had planned on setting off earlier to beat the heat, but as often happens on a Sunday, I’d enjoyed a bit of a lie in before eventually getting out of bed. So as I stepped out my car, the dashboard thermometer was already reading 26oC. It was going to be a scorcher.

The track I was kicking off on was to take me to one of the Department of Conservation’s (DOC) huts called the Packhorse Hut. Even this hut itself has a few options to reach there, and being within easy reach of Christchurch, it is a popular destination for people to go for a night. As such, it requires to be booked. The DOC sign stated a 2hr walk to reach the hut, and the track starts off across private farming land. Stiles are provided to cross the fences meaning gates don’t need to be touched, and at the time I was hiking, stock was everywhere. It is important not to worry stock when passing over private land, but sheep being sheep, they often make it very hard to get past them without them getting spooked.

 

There is quite a long and relatively gentle meander across the farmland before finally the wide track zig-zags across a stream and starts climbing. And once the climb starts, it just keeps on going. The summer just passed did not offer much opportunity to get up into the mountains unlike the summer before, so despite hiking the Queen Charlotte Track just 2.5 months prior, I was out of shape once more. The gradient of this hike should have been well within my capabilities but instead I found myself huffing and puffing in the heat and needing to stop often. Once the trees parted though, the view opened up more and more and looking behind me the Pacific Ocean was glinting in the sunlight through a gap in the hillside, and in front of me lay the distinctive peak of Mt Bradley. Now I started to enjoy the hike.

 

There was plenty of other people on the track heading both up and down, although most people had been sensible enough to head off hours before me, so most of the people I saw were on their way back from the hut. When I reached the Packhorse Hut there were several people milling about inside and out, and others still could be seen on the track up from Gebbies Pass to the north. Directly in front was the Port Hills across the harbour, behind which lies Christchurch, and just peaking into view was the head of Lyttelton Harbour.

 

Built of local volcanic stone in 1914, the Packhorse Hut is one of four stone huts built as a resthouse for a proposed walking route between Christchurch and Akaroa. The brainchild of Harry Ell, a city councillor and member of parliament in the early 1900s, he was well known for his interests in recreation and conservation, and played a role in the creation of many of the reserves that now exist on the Port Hills. Whilst only three of his resthouses came to pass in his lifetime, a fourth followed after his death and all of them still stand to this day. The Sign of the Kiwi at the top of Dyers Pass road is a cafe, having recently reopened following the Canterbury earthquakes of 2010/2011. The Sign of the Takahe lower down Dyers Pass road is a restaurant, although it still remains closed for repairs following the earthquakes. The Sign of the Bellbird off Summit road started life as a tearoom but now is really just a shelter. It is a great picnic spot, although unfortunately after someone set fire to the roof in 2015, it is now completely open to the elements. And the Sign of the Packhorse is what is now the DOC run Packhorse Hut.

 

After taking a quick look inside before stopping for a snack, I still had some way to go to reach Mt Herbert. It was by now about 1pm, the sun was high and the DOC sign related a 3hr hike to Mt Herbert summit. This was longer than I’d anticipated but at least there were still many hours of daylight ahead. From the hut, the track follows the Summit Walkway which has recently been renamed with its Maori name to Te Ara Pataka. The track followed the curve of the land towards a small section within the bush which was some welcome respite from the sun, but before long it was back out in the elements and the zig-zags began. About 210m (689ft) altitude gain is achieved through a series of zig-zags up the slope of Mt Bradley. Here I met a group of people coming back from the summit who seemed surprised to see me and enquired about how well equipped I was and how much water I had. It put a hint of doubt in my mind that somehow this hike was more than I thought it would be.

 

Finally though, I was on the relative flat below the bluff of Mt Bradley’s summit. The view from the track up had been impressive enough, but from this higher altitude it was stunning. Although it undulated, it stayed roughly around 720-730m (2362-2395ft) with lots of bush on either side although nothing above to shade from the sun. I was now on the lookout for a nice lunch spot but there was nowhere to stop and sit. Both ahead and behind me the track was empty of people. Most of the people at the hut turned back there, so this section of the walk was devoid of people compared to the lower section. After some time of hugging the mountainside, the track dipped slightly and went into a copse. The shade was welcome so I found a large rock to sit on to have my lunch.

 

I was in a total reverie munching away when a loud and angry yell made me jump. Somebody unseen had yelled an obscenity so loudly that I had a momentary fear about who was approaching. As the unseen man grew nearer I heard more anger, albeit at a lower volume and then round a corner in the path came a man in his 20s. He asked how far the summit was and although I wasn’t sure exactly, I surmised that it was probably 60-90mins away based on the DOC sign and how long I’d been walking for. He swore again, complained about the track dropping altitude when it was supposed to be going up and stomped off, leaving me in peace once more. As he must have also come from the Packhorse Hut, regardless of which route he took to get there, he will have passed at least one sign with a distance marker to the summit, so I couldn’t understand why he was so annoyed, when it is clearly stated the length of the hike at each stage. At least he was wearing proper shoes and had a backpack. I’ve seen many tourists hiking up mountains in jandals (flip-flops) with either no water or just a small bottle in their hand.

Finally moving on myself, it wasn’t much further till the path came out at a fence line on a low ridge past the far side of Mt Bradley. Crossing the stile, I could now see Lyttelton Harbour again, and as the path meandered on, I found myself at the junction with the track down to Orton Bradley Park. Now I was on familiar territory. Some way on I came across Mt Herbert Shelter, a small hut just off the path. It has a nice view from the front deck, but I was keen to get to the summit so I pushed on without stopping. A little up the track I passed the angry man on his return trip who still looked thoroughly grumpy, and finally I was at the familiar turn-off for the summit. It was the last push up to a relatively deserted summit. This is a popular mountain to hike, so normally the summit is busy, but after 3pm as it was, it was quite late on in the day. With a predicted high of 29oC, everybody else had been much more sensible and set off earlier in the day.

 

At 919m (3015ft), there is a beautiful 360o view over Banks Peninsula and Lyttelton Harbour as well as out to the Pacific Ocean. As always, Christchurch was under a haze but the Southern Alps mountain range was still visible in the far distance. It is a broad summit, so there is plenty of space to walk around to see different aspects and I noted that the DOC signage had been updated since I’d last been there to include its Maori name of Te Ahu Patiki. From here it is possible to continue hiking along the Summit Walkway towards Port Levy, and this is the 4th route up to Mt Herbert, and the only one I am yet to walk.

After a while it was time to head home. It had taken over 4hrs to summit, but as always the downhill is easier, and although the section below the bluffs of Mt Bradley felt like it went on forever, I was back in my car in just 2.5hrs. As I passed the Packhorse Hut, there was a family setting up a tent outside, and I met some people hiking up when I reached the flat section across the farmland. They were heading to the hut and back but had waited to escape the heat of the day. It had been a scorcher for sure, and I had worried I would run out of water, but in the end all was well. Of the 3 routes I’ve done, this is the longest one to the summit, but it was good to explore somewhere new and I always enjoy discovering New Zealand’s myriad of mountain huts.

Queen Charlotte Track: Portage to Anakiwa

I couldn’t believe my luck to awake on my final day hiking the Queen Charlotte Track, to sunshine again. After the previous week’s stormy weather, I had been immensely lucky to get dry and calm weather for the duration of the 4 day hike. The picnic lunch provided by the Punga Cove Resort the morning before had been so good I still had leftovers for breakfast that morning, then I was soon booted up and back on the road again. Cutting back down to the Portage Resort, the sea sparkled in the sunshine, visible over the rooftops as I retraced my steps back up Torea Road to the Torea Saddle where the track cut off. The people I had played a constant catch up with the day before, had been given a lift up here and they were just setting off too as I arrived. For a second day we would repeatedly pass each other until they stopped early to cut the last day into two. The sign here reminds of the need for a Queen Charlotte Track Pass to hike this section, as it is crossing private land rather than Department of Conservation (DOC) land.

 

My destination for the day was Anakiwa, 21km (13 miles) away, where the Queen Charlotte Track ends. The DOC sign stated an 8hr hike, so like day 3, it was another big day of hiking to end the track. There was a quick ascent from Torea Saddle onto the ridgeline, and across the taller bush lining the path, the view was back over Portage Bay which grew smaller down below. With all the vegetation there was plenty of insect life for company as well as the couple that set off around the same time as me. As the view switched from the Kenepuru Sound to the Queen Charlotte Sound, the changing and expanding vista remained beautiful at every angle with the cloudless sky reflecting on the calm sea below.

 

A sign denoted Shamrock Ridge at 407m (1335 ft) which was just short of half way between Portage and the Te Mahia Saddle. Just past here, a couple of turns in the path overlooked Pukatea Bay in the Kenepuru Sound where some kayakers glided across the water below me. This was one of the most beautiful lookout spots on the track that day and with a well placed picnic bench elevated above the track, it was a perfect place to stop for a snack. It also gave a good vantage point of the route ahead, and I was happy to sit there for a while just soaking up the view.

 

From the lookout, the path dropped a little altitude, passing yet another landslide which involved actually climbing up over the back of it to get past. Aside from these slight hiccups, the path continued to be easy going, and the views were constant on both sides of the peninsula as it levelled out on a lower ridge line. Passing the 16km (10 mile) post, the turn-off to Lochmara Lodge was beyond that, hidden amongst the shade of some bushes. Keeping me company as I passed by was a fantail, a little bird that likes to sing a pretty song as it flits between the branches, occasionally displaying its tail fan that gives it its name.

 

The path took a slight climb once more before circling the back of a peak, eventually reaching a track junction which led up to the Onahau Lookout. The track zig-zagged up the hillside to a summit of 416m (1365 ft) which was proving a popular place to be. Within walking distance of several accommodations in the bays below as well as to one of the boat ramps, there were several groups that had walked here from nearby Te Mahia. As people came and went, I moved around the broad summit where the view was fractionally different depending on where you stood. This was the highest point of the day’s hike and marked a change in the hiking terrain as it descended from the peninsula ridge line.

 

Coming down from the summit after a while spent sunning myself, I rejoined the Queen Charlotte Track as it started to lose altitude on approach to the Te Mahia saddle. A couple of zig-zags in the path afforded a stunning overview of Te Mahia Bay before a junction marker pointed down to Mistletoe Bay on the Queen Charlotte Sound. Soon after, a much needed toilet was reached right before finding myself at Te Mahia saddle and the sound of cars driving by. The DOC sign denotes this as the halfway mark of the hike, and it is necessary to walk down Onahau Road a little bit to reach the next stage of the Queen Charlotte Track.

 

I could hear them before I could see them, and I was rather gutted to turn the couple of corners on the road to find a large group of teenagers on a school outing spread out around the side of the road next to the track junction. As someone who loves the solitude of hiking away from civilisation, I certainly don’t mind coming across other hikers from time to time, but a large group of noisy people is not my favourite track companion, and a large group of bored and whiny teenagers was the last thing I wanted to share the track with. Their teacher had to get them to make a space for me to pass by, and although I set off ahead of them, I didn’t get far before their loud voices and then them themselves, caught up with me.

I slowed down my speed in an effort to let them pass me by and leave me behind. It took a while as they became quite spread out with the stragglers a good 10 minutes behind the leaders. There were few members of staff despite the large group and I cringed listening to their ridiculous conversations as they passed by. There’s nothing like listening to teenage conversation to make me feel old.

But the vegetation and terrain were changing. I was suddenly among bush again with just sporadic views out over Onahau Bay. Among the tall trees were some streams which meant waterfalls by the track as well as shade which was much appreciated by this stage. The track undulated as it followed the contours of the hillside, curling round the side of the bay before suddenly opening up at pastureland where a horse grazed in a large paddock. After this open stretch, it headed back into bush as it neared its turning point from Onahau Bay into the Grove Arm of the Queen Charlotte Sound. I took a breather at a picnic table near the turn before ploughing on.

 

Now the view was all about the Grove Arm, the far side hosting a myriad of settlements. The track continued to follow the contour of the land until coming to a lookout giving a beautiful view up to the head of the Grove Arm. Anakiwa was just tucked out of sight but was getting ever closer. A few corners later the path finally started to descend, passing the 6km (4 mile) mark as it did so. It was a long drawn out descent to Davies Bay campsite at Umungata Bay. There were a few campers as well as a couple of ducks sharing the bay with me, and I had plenty of time to sit on the sand and watch some people go swimming in the sea. I had made the decision to spend the night in Anakiwa, rather than rush to catch the afternoon boat back to Picton, so I had all the time in the world to rest my feet up and sunbathe.

 

It was such a wide bay that I would move along and pick a different spot to sit after a while, moving from sunshine to shade to get a little respite from the rays. Eventually though it was time to press on to Anakiwa, my hunger driving one foot in front of the other as my legs grew weary. Back amongst the trees once more, the sea was just a fleeting glimpse, but being so close to civilisation again, there were a few people out jogging here. I passed the 1km post deep within the trees, but as I approached Anakiwa, the foliage opened a little and I could see some shags nesting on the branches. Then suddenly some houses appeared, and before long I found myself at the sign denoting the end of the hike, and there I was in Anakiwa, about 7 hrs after leaving Portage behind, passing the Outward Bound school where the teenagers that had passed me had been headed. I made my way through the throng once more in search of my hostel for the night, thankful to discover they sold food and beverages after discovering that Anakiwa lacked anywhere to eat out.

 

My plan had been to go kayaking the next day ahead of the afternoon boat back to Picton, but I awoke to overcast skies and rain showers. Having to check out of the hostel, I wandered along the shoreline in both directions before eventually heading to the Anakiwa pier where the shelter had a selection of books to read and shortly after a food cart opened to serve hot drinks and snacks. As time went on, more and more people arrived to sit on the grass waiting for the boats to arrive. Just like on day 1 from Picton, there are choices of boat operators to get back to Picton, and I had booked a transfer with the same company that I had headed to Ship’s Cove with. They arrived early and with all the booked passengers on board early, we set off ahead of schedule to sail back up the Grove Arm and round the bay to Picton. I returned to the relative bustle of Picton, exceedingly satisfied to have completed the hike that I had yearned to do for some time.

Queen Charlotte Track: Punga Cove to Portage

I’d eased myself in nicely to the Queen Charlotte Track, but waking up on day 3, I had a lot of ground to cover before the day was out. Despite being built on a steep hill, I loved Punga Cove, the resort in Camp Bay where I’d spent the night. I could picture coming back here on holiday, catching the boat from Picton and then lounging in the hammocks. It’s a rare occurrence for me to want to relax on holiday, but here was somewhere I could see myself doing so. It is a stunning part of the world.

I had awoken to yet another cracker of a day with a predicted high of 30oC, and from the balcony of the common room, there was a beautiful vista back down to the pier below. From the restaurant where I filled up with breakfast, I could see across Endeavour Inlet and watched as fingers of cloud wrapped over the summit peaks across the bay. Today’s hike was expected to be 8 hrs, and with nowhere to get food on route, I paid to get a packed lunch made up at the resort and it was totally worth it. Unlike the Furneaux Lodge the night before which had been expensive and a little lacking in portion size, Punga Cove was much more reasonable and the lunch looked appetising. Pulling my hiking boots back onto my feet, and throwing my backpack on, I followed the signs out of the resort to the dirt track that led up the hill.

Punga Cove pier at Camp Bay

Endeavour Inlet from Punga Cove's restaurant

This way to the Queen Charlotte Track

 

With a full belly, this long and windy track up to the Kenepuru Saddle was a little tiring, and the rough stony surface was uncomfortable under foot. Near the top, a man coming downhill seemed lost and he joined me as we made our way to rejoin the Queen Charlotte Track. For those that weren’t staying at Camp Bay, the track had climbed up to the Saddle on a separate route, and here at this junction, the track switched from Department of Conservation (DOC) land to private land managed by a trust. From Kenepuru Sound onwards, users of the trail need to possess a pass which can be purchased in advance or through some of the resorts on route. The fee is to aid in the upkeep of the land, and spot-checks can occur to ensure compliance. My companion hadn’t realised that he needed one, and didn’t know what to do. The Punga Cove resort sold them but that meant going all the way back down the hill again, and I could see him torn about whether to turn back or risk going onwards. In the end I left him dithering.

DOC Signage at Kenepuru Saddle

 

The track immediately climbed to a low ridgeline offering a stunning view along the valley. For the first time, the Queen Charlotte Sound was out of view, and now I was looking out towards the Kenepuru Sound on the opposite side of the peninsula in the distance. The valley view kept me company for some time, the water creeping ever closer as I looked down over farmland. The 41km (25.5 mile) marker came and went and yet another landslide was passed. The track changed to a woodland walk, giving some brief respite from the sun which was already warming up well. There were lots of hand-painted signs along the track, many giving distance markers to local places or further afield. As the Kenepuru Sound reached a head-on view, the track shifted slightly and I found myself looking back over the Queen Charlotte Sound again. It was a little hazy but with blue skies and blue sea, there was much to look at.

Looking across to Mt McMahon

Kenepuru Sound peaks into view

The first of many landslides on day 3

Walking through the woods

Woodland track

Looking out towards a hazy Queen Charlotte Sound

 

Beyond here, the tall trees framed the view over Kenepuru and a short while later a side track led up to Eatwells Lookout at 474m (1555ft). A weka wandered around, and I left it stumbling around the undergrowth and slogged up the rough track to the lookout. At the top was a trio of hikers who I ended up repeatedly bumping into for the next two days. We shared some conversation as we all absorbed the view and then they left me to it. There was some cloud hovering over the Queen Charlotte Sound meaning the North Island was hidden from view. Another hand-painted distance marker showed that I was a long way from a lot of places and that suited me just fine. One of my favourite things about hiking is the feeling of isolation and being a long way from the world and its troubles. I was hot, but I was completely at ease.

Kenepuru Sound

Kenepuru Sound and valley panorama

Eatwells Lookout signage

Eatwells Lookout panorama

A long way from anywhere

Distance marker at Eatwells Lookout

Looking towards the North Island shrouded in cloud

Kenepuru Sound from Eatwells Lookout

 

I’d made the mistaken decision to wear my gym capris for that day’s hike instead of my usual hiking trousers, and already I was regretting it. Unlike my trousers which are looser and help the air flow to keep me cool, my capris were encouraging me to sweat, and they felt tight and clingy. But after some other people appeared at the lookout, I headed off to continue on the long day’s hike. Back at the track junction, a DOC sign listed just 30mins to reach the Bay of Many Coves Shelter. The track disappeared into a tunnel of trees where I was taunted by South Island Robins, a small and quick little bird that always eludes my camera. When at last there was a view again, it was over the beautiful Bay of Many Coves, who’s name is descriptively accurate. The changing viewpoint of this gorgeous bay was to be my companion for some time.

Woodland tunnel

Tree tunnel

Bay of Many Coves panorama

Directional Markers above Bay of Many Coves

Bay of Many Coves

 

Near the 36km (22 mile) marker a juvenile weka wandered out the bushes and eyeballed me for a while, it’s sprouting feathers a dishevelled mess. It proceeded to plonk itself down next to the path and preen itself whilst I watched. After the shelter, the track started to climb again until it reached a side track leading down to a resort on the waterfront. From here onwards, the track was quick to switch back to views of the Kenepuru Sound and I was regularly coming across a spread out group of mountain bikers using the trail that day. The track quality here was probably the poorest of the whole hike: obvious to follow but very uneven and stony under foot.

Weka juvenile

Kenepuru Sound

Head of Kenepuru Sound

Looking back up the valley towards Kenepuru Saddle

Rocky path

 

After a long section overlooking the Kenepuru side of the peninsula, the track curved round a peak towards the Queen Charlotte Sound again, and for the first time since I’d left it 2 days prior, I could see Picton, the town where the interisland ferry departs from, and where I’d caught the boat to Ship’s Cove to start the hike. It seemed both far away and so close at the same time, an illusion created by the continued snaking of the track and the peninsula that it followed. The busyness of the track that day meant I regularly found the viewpoints and benches were taken up when I got to them, and I was eager to find somewhere with a view to stop and have lunch. I’d already had a few snacks but I was eager for a break to rest my feet. Finally I found a perfectly shaped stone seat overlooking Blackwood Bay to enjoy a late lunch.

Kenepuru Sound

Picton

Queen Charlotte Sound

Blackwood Bay panorama

Blackwood Bay

 

The sky continued to remain cloudless, keeping the mercury high that day, but the haze had reduced since the morning, making the distant viewing much clearer. There simply wasn’t a bad view in sight, and as I wandered along with Picton in the visible distance, I watched the two interisland ferries plough through the Queen Charlotte Sound seeming small like a toy. By the time I reached Black Rock Station, I was once more looking over the Kenepuru Sound and there was the occasional hint of civilisation with a road curving round the shore below and the occasional house or building. Passing the 26km (16 mile) marker, I was afforded a view all the way back up to the Kenepuru Sound Head which I’d passed many hours prior.

Interislander ferry

Blackrock Station viewpoint

26km to go!

Looking back up Kenepuru Sound

 

When at last I reached Black Rock Campsite, I met the same group of hikers I’d met at Eatwell Lookout earlier that morning. My energy was starting to flag a little, and 6hrs into the hike, I needed to start conserving my water. The trees meant the view was limited here, so once I’d refuelled, I moved on. After a while, the trees grew taller and denser and the track began its long descent towards Portage. It is possible to leave the Queen Charlotte Track behind and hike up another peak for an alternative, less marked route to Portage, but I opted to stick to the proper track meaning a long forest walk that swung out on a long ridge before almost doubling back on itself. Within this forest section I played tortoise and hare with the same 3 hikers from before, and here, the landslides were the worst of the entire hike. The bikers that had passed me earlier would have had quite a bit of effort getting their bikes over these ones with a good bit of climbing up over tree branches required.

View from Black Rock Campsite

Back in the forest

Rockface amongst the bush

 

The occasional break in the trees provided some distraction from the feeling that the path would never end. I knew it was to double back at a point, but it felt like forever before this happened, and then with glee I realised that Portage and the food and cold cider that that would bring were getting more and more within reach. When finally I reached the 21km (13 mile) marker, it was almost just a stumble to come out of the trees and reach a tarmac road where a war memorial sat at the saddle of the hill. This road crossed the peninsula from one side to the other and I followed it north to head down the hill to Portage. Even it had not escaped damage from the recent storm and there were landslides on both sides of it, including one large one halfway down where the side of the road and the bank that had supported it had collapsed and slid down the hillside.

View through the forest foliage

Tui singing in the trees

War Memorial on Torea Rd

Washed out road

 

Portage sparkled in the sunshine and I followed the signs to my accommodation for the night. It had taken me 3 attempts to find somewhere to stay here, finally bagging a bed at the Treetops Backpackers. Only once I reached the shoreline at Portage did I realise with dismay that my backpackers was up a hill. My feet were moving purely on autopilot by this stage after well over 7hrs, and the thighs started screaming at me as I began the hike up the driveway to reach the house at the top. I was delighted to discover that I had the backpackers to myself, there having been some cancellations following the earthquake the week before, and I kicked my shoes off and peeled my clothes off to have a much needed shower at just the right temperature.

After resting my feet briefly, I headed down the hill once more to the Portage Resort where I nabbed myself a nice cold cider, and found myself a table with a sea view to enjoy it. All the bikers that had passed me that day were at a nearby table, and the place was popular and bustling. After a while I ordered dinner and tucked in to a much deserved meal whilst the sun began to dip low behind the nearby hill. Only when the air grew colder and my eyes began to feel heavy did I leave to make my way back up the hill to my private cabin in the woods. There was no view other than trees, but this place was just what I needed, and once again it took little effort to drift off for another restful sleep.

Portage panorama

A well-deserved cider with a view

Queen Charlotte Track: Furneaux Lodge to Punga Cove

I awoke following a restful sleep to a beautiful sunny morning. Stepping out of my cabin, there was not a cloud in the sky and the sea was calm and still. It was going to be another stunning day in the Marlborough region of New Zealand. After another expensive meal for breakfast at the idyllic Furneaux Lodge, I took my time milling around the grounds in no hurry to leave. This was to be the shortest day’s hike of the Queen Charlotte track and I had time on my side. My destination for the night was visible on the far side of the glistening waters of Endeavour Inlet and I had a couple of side trips that I wanted to make on route.

Morning sunshine at Furneaux Lodge

Endeavour Inlet from Furneaux Lodge

 

The moon was still visible in the sky as I left the lodge behind and headed back onto the Queen Charlotte track. It was a little vague in places with multiple side routes heading off into bushes and down to a nearby stream. Not too far along the track was a Department of Conservation (DOC) sign marking a 1 hour return track to a waterfall. With plenty of daylight hours ahead of me, this was the first of two detours to make that day. Nobody else seemed to be on this track and it was with good reason: shortly after leaving the main track behind, the quality deteriorated dramatically and I found myself pushing through the overgrowth and climbing over tree roots blindly following the orange arrows that pointed the way. A giant tree and the occasional glimpse of the nearby stream broke up the view of thick bush, and after what felt like forever, I was a little underwhelmed with what I found at the end of the bush track. A large boulder had created a high rock wall next to what I assume used to be a waterfall. There was only a small trickle, but the moss on the rock surface suggested this has had a lot of water over it in the past. There was a waterfall not far from here but I had to climb through tree branches to view it properly so I’m not convinced this was the original waterfall that the track was created for.

Half moon in the daylight

Waterfall track turnoff

Rimu tree

Rimu trunk with creepers

Path crossing a stream

Waterfall near the end of the track

 

Back on the Queen Charlotte track, the detour had taken a little under an hour, and the main route remained amongst the trees for a little longer. Only at the next resort did the sea come back into view, and just past here I passed the 56 km (35 mile) mark, before reaching a suspension bridge over a river. Here was the head of the Endeavour Inlet and over the bridge there was some pasture land with grazing cattle to the right and signs relaying information about the mining works of the area. Up the valley is the remains of an antimony mine, and down where I stood used to stand the village where the miners and their families lived. There wasn’t much evidence left of their presence. The DOC sign detailed the mines as being an hour away, and this was to be my second detour of the day, stretching what would otherwise be a 5hr hike into a 7hr hike. Passing the rusted remains of old farm machinery, and some properties hidden amongst the bush, the track followed a 4×4 track to a river and crossed the other side via a ford. I walked up and down the river bank looking for another way across but with no gaiters to help keep the water out of my boots there was no way that I was crossing this deep a river without the right gear. I was a little annoyed and a little frustrated as I had assumed it would be a straightforward track to follow. I wandered back and forth a couple of times in case I’d missed an obvious turn in the track, but eventually had to admit defeat and turn back.

Endeavour Inlet

56km to go...

Suspension bridge

Pastureland

DOC sign at Head of Endeavour Inlet

Antimony Mine turn-off

Head of Endeavour Inlet

Rusty tractor

 

I wasn’t disheartened for long though with such fabulous scenery to grab my attention. I wandered down to the mudflat at the head of Endeavour Inlet and breathed in the fresh sea air for a while before rejoining the track. A little down the track there was a well placed stone bench that I made use of for a snack stop, looking out at the sea. After a brief respite, I started meandering along the track again, taking the fork away from the shoreline where it started to pick its way up the hillside again. I could see back over to Furneaux Lodge on the far side, and the track varied between being amongst thick bush, and being more open. Small streams trickled past the track, and a couple of bridges spanned a couple of them.

Panorama at Head of Endeavour Inlet

Reflections on Endeavour Inlet

View from the seat

Fork in the road

Looking across to Furneaux Lodge

 

After a while, the bush opened up, and a gate marked a transition into a more cultivated landscape where the grass was short and a couple of baches (holiday homes) sat on the hillside above the track. A lone weka rummaged around in the undergrowth near a picnic table, and these birds were a constant companion on this hike. In wild bushland in New Zealand roams wild boar, introduced historically for hunting purposes. I have once come across some whilst out hiking in the bush in the North Island and they gave me such a fright when they burst out of nowhere in front of me on the trail. I had read that boar could occasionally be spotted on this track, and on a frequent basis the sound of rustling in the undergrowth would get my curiosity up only to find it was a weka, either on its own, or with a chick. These chicken-sized birds are one of many flightless bird species in the country and many tourists confuse them for kiwis.

Panorama from the gate

Panorama in front of the baches

 

After returning to the bush once more, the track showed lots of evidence of the earthquake and flash flooding that had occurred just a week prior. In one section the ground had cracked and dropped, creating stepping and past this a landslide littered the path with debris. I passed the 51 km (31.5 miles) mark surrounded by bush before a break in the vegetation allowed me to get a view across the Endeavour Inlet to where it branches off the Queen Charlotte Sound. Just as the path took a near 90 degree turn, I was once more distracted by a rummaging in the bush. Out fell a one-legged weka who contemplated me briefly before hopping and falling over to my feet. They are quite bold birds and eager to grab any tasty morsel they can claim from you given half a chance. They are even known to peck at cameras and steal lens caps. I watched it for a while, crouching down to its level and eyeballing it whilst it stood there. After some time though, something spooked it and it went racing back to the bushes as fast as its one leg could carry it.

Cracks in the path

Landslide across the path

Blue waters of Endeavour Inlet

Curled fern

51km to go...

Endeavour Inlet opens into the Queen Charlotte Sound

Weka

Weka mimicking a Kiwi

Eye-balling a one legged weka

 

The track changed from a clay-like soil to tree roots and fallen leaves as it once again returned to the bush. In the blistering heat, the regular shade was a welcome relief, and then I turned a corner to come across a fallen tree that spanned the path. As a hiker, these obstacles were easy enough to manoeuvre around but the Queen Charlotte track is a shared biking track, and there were plenty of people biking the track whilst I was hiking it. The regular landslips and leaning trees were merely a side-step or easy clamber over or under for me, but they would have meant a dismount or a lifting over of a bike for the many riders on the track.

Looking across to Camp Bay

Walking through the forest

Stream by the QCT

Tree fallen across the path

 

It was a long section in the bush rounding the headland into Big Bay. Once more there were plenty of streams and waterfalls to look at and the beautiful canopy above and around me was ever changing. I was serenaded by bellbirds and robins that flitted through the trees as I passed below them. Where the track skirted the shoreline again I passed through the tree line onto the rocky shore and found a handy log to sit on. It was a beautiful snack stop listening to the gentle lapping of the waves near my feet under a still cloudless sky. I was less than an hour away from my destination and it was only early afternoon. I toyed with the idea of taking a swim then thought better of it, and chose to sunbathe for a while instead.

Big Bay sign

Beautiful canopy above

Waterfall next to the QCT

Bellbird in the canopy

Rest stop at Big Bay

 

Back on the track, there was a nearly uninterrupted sea view for the rest of the hike. Beyond here the track divided: the lower track heading to a variety of accommodation options in Camp Bay, and the upper track cutting up the hillside to reach the Kenepuru Saddle. I had booked a cabin at Punga Cove in Camp Bay so stuck to the lower path which almost immediately demonstrated a high level of erosion. It is possible that either the earthquake or the flash flooding of November 14th did the damage, but I suspect a lot of the cracks and holes in the ground were more likely due to the wash-out effect of the rain. A large crack split the track lengthways down the middle and past this, a large hole had swallowed up half the width of the path. Undeterred I could see Punga Cove through the trees and kept going.

Big Bay panorama

Approaching Camp Bay

Big Bay

Large crack in the path

Large hole in the path

Looking across to Punga Cove

 

The amble into Camp Bay’s campsite is beautiful with boats anchored in the water, and houses peaking through the trees. I could see people swimming in the sea in the distance and could hear the sound of people enjoying themselves. A DOC sign at the campsite showed I’d walked 27 of the 71 km track and I was just 15 minutes away from my night’s stop. Passing a jetty I followed the signs to Punga Cove as they separated from the main track and as it curved round a bend I came across a large hole in the track. There was just a ledge left, big enough to fit a foot and little more and I hastily crossed it, aware of the drop if the ground decided to give way below me. But waiting at the other side of me was the most fantastic spot to spend the night.

House in the bushes

Camp Bay Campsite

Punga Cove turn-off

Track washed out

 

Punga Cove is spread out across the hillside overlooking Camp Bay. At the pier at sea level is a bar and cafe, next to which is a grass lawn littered with deck chairs and hammocks hanging amongst the trees. Just behind this is a hot tub and swimming pool, and the accommodation is littered at various levels up the hill. I checked in at reception to discover my hiker’s cabin was right at the top of the hill and I sweated my way up in the heat to find my little room waiting for me. Upstairs, the shared kitchen/lounge had a balcony which overlooked the bay. After removing my shoes and gingerly heading downhill in my bare feet, I stopped by the pool to soak my legs for a while then picked my way to the bar, ordered a pizza and a cider and parked up on the pier to relax. It would have been a good place to go swimming but I had packed light and had nothing to swim in, so I took the lazy and leisurely approach of sunbathing whilst watching everyone else play in the water.

Punga Cove panorama

View from the kitchen/dining room

Pier panorama

 

The mail boat came and went and I strolled along the pier to watch the fishes before finding a large hammock suspended amongst the lower trees next to the lawn. I swayed and dozed here until the sun had dropped low enough to leave me cool in the shade. Following a snack, I returned to the pier bar for some ice cream and hot chocolate and waited for the sun to get low behind the hill. Then I just had to retreat up the hillside once more and find my bed to give my legs a rest. The shared lounge had a book share so I took a book to read which I struggled to get into, but it wasn’t hard to fall asleep after all the fresh air and walking. I woke in the night to the sensation of an earthquake and thought to myself that I wouldn’t have wanted to be perched on that hillside if a big quake ripped through there. But after a 5 hr hike that day, I was quick to get back to sleep, ready for the big day’s hike ahead of me.

Punga Cove pier bar

Punga Cove nestled among the trees

Hammock time

View from the hammock

Giant bug at Punga Cove

Queen Charlotte Track: Ship’s Cove to Furneaux Lodge

I woke a little after midnight unaware of the time, only noting that it was still dark outside. I silently cursed that I had awoken, was about to turn over and resettle when the familiar sensation of the room rocking signalled an earthquake was rolling through. New Zealand is situated on the Pacific Ring of Fire and spans two tectonic plates. With 15,000 earthquakes on average per year, the country’s nickname is the Shaky Isles. Having lived in the South Island of New Zealand for 5 years I’ve felt many quakes of varying intensities rattle through and several nights’ sleep have been disturbed by the sensation of the room moving. So as my brain acknowledged the quake through a fog of tiredness I woke up more fully to release it was still going. Normally they are so short that they’re over as soon as you’ve acknowledged that they’ve begun. And yet on it went. And on, and on. For about two long minutes, the house rocked back and forth accompanied by the banging of the Venetian blinds against the wall, and the realisation hit that this was something big.

It was November 14th and as the city awoke in the darkness, social media went rife and amongst the drama unfolding about what was going on to the north of Christchurch, hour after hour we waited and wondered what would come next. Then the tsunami siren went off and all in all it was a sleepless night. But in the morning the destruction unfolded and as an unseasonal storm broke sending a deluge of rain down to the north of us, my plans to drive north through Kaikoura to Picton in just 5 days time were suddenly unlikely as the main routes north were shut.

Nestled in the stunning Marlborough region in the north of the South Island is one of the country’s best known multi-day hikes, the Queen Charlotte Track. Co-managed by the Department of Conservation (DOC) and a private trust, a well-maintained 71km (44mile) track winds its way from Ship’s Cove to Anakiwa along a peninsula sandwiched between the Kenepuru Sound and the Queen Charlotte Sound. I had been looking forward to the hike for a while as well as the weekend relaxing in Kaikoura afterwards.

 

As the days passed, and phone calls and enquiries were made, it was made clear that as long as I could get to Picton, where the boat to Ship’s Cove leaves from, the hiking trail was open and waiting to welcome me. So with the inland road reopening without restrictions a few days after the earthquake, I set off on the longer-than-normal drive north with trepidation. I had a hitchhiker for company and I stopped a couple of times on the way up to show her some scenic sights then after a night catching up with a friend on route, I arrived in Picton less than a week after the earthquake and storm had hit. And it looked just how I remembered it: pretty and twinkling in the sunshine.

Maruia Falls

Lake Rotoiti

 

Picton is a common place for locals and tourists to pass through as the inter-island ferries berth here but out amongst the bays and coves of the majestic Marlborough Sounds are a collection of homes and baches  (holiday homes) dotted amongst the bush. With some only accessible by boat, there is more than just the inter-island ferries ploughing these waters. I’d bought a ticket for the mail boat, one of a few boat companies that offer transport to the start of the Queen Charlotte track. It is possible to have your pack moved each day between accommodation if you buy the appropriate package but as my pack was reasonably sized, I opted to carry mine the full 71 km.

Picton harbour

 

I’ve been through these sounds a few times but it is always a beautiful place to be and Ship’s Cove was no exception. So named because the explorer Captain James Cook anchored his ship the Endeavour here in 1770, a monument has been erected there and the white behemoth stands out against the green of the surrounding bush. We berthed at the end of the long pier right next to a landslip from the recent storm, and the boat unloaded. A few of us were heading off on the track, but most of the people on the boat were just out for a day trip and they were given some time ashore before reboarding to start the return journey to Picton.

Queen Charlotte Sound

Sailing through the Queen Charlotte Sound

 

There was a Maori totem pole and some Maori carvings next to a picnic spot on the green grass. Across a little bridge was the monument to Captain Cook and some information boards about the history of the place as well as the early explorers. The view out to sea was staggering and with a blue sky up above, the sea glistened. A weka wandered along the shore and despite the other people milling about, it felt peaceful and serene.

Maori totem pole

Tiki carving

Maori carving

Cook monument at Ship's Cove

Ship's Cove panorama

 

At the far end of the cove, a sign pointed into the bushes marking a route to a waterfall. It was a little muddy underfoot, but I followed it through the thick vegetation round the curve of the coastline before cutting inland to follow a river upstream to the waterfall. I had the place to myself, and the double waterfall was pretty as the sun sparkled through gaps in the foliage. As always, DOC signs are over-generous and I was back in Ship’s Cove in no time.

Waterfall track leaving Ship's Cove

Double waterfall

Waterfall tier

 

I then didn’t want to leave. It was just too beautiful, and even though I knew I had several hours of hiking ahead of me, it was really hard to say goodbye to the place. Especially after the boat crowd left and I found myself on my own. I took my time slowly wandering around, watching the weka, staring out to sea and wandering along the pier to look at the landslide. But eventually it was time to get going, and I readied myself to start the Queen Charlotte track.

Captain Cook's visits to the area

Pier at Ship's Cove

Walking the pier at Ship's Cove

 

A distance board and 71km marker mark the start of the track and immediately it goes into the bush and starts climbing. Near the start some warning signs detailed the use of poisons in the area. As New Zealand struggles to rid itself of a tyranny of introduced pest species that threaten the native wildlife, these controversial methods are a common spotting when out bush at certain times of the year. But the noticeable lack of birdsong in the thick bush was enough of a sign to know that something needs to be done.

DOC sign at the start of the QCT

71km to go...

Poison, poison everywhere

 

The track itself was beautiful to walk through and snippets through the vegetation gave hints of the views to come. After a steady climb, the first viewpoint on the hike was reached and it was crammed full of people who refused to budge to make room for me. After waiting for them all to leave, I got some alone time, soaking up the view on the first ridge before shortly after starting the winding descent towards Resolution Bay. Having crossed from one side of a headland to another, the vista was already starting to change.

The path climbing out of Ship's Cove

A common sight: humane pest trap

A sneaky peak of the view to come

Hiking through the New Zealand bush

Resolution Bay from the lookout

Motuara Island with Kapiti Island and the North Island on the horizon

Bellbird/Korimako

Winding down the hillside to Resolution Bay

 

I passed a few mountain bikers tackling the uphill as I came down, several of them having to get off their bike to push it up the slope. The Queen Charlotte track is a shared use track, although the section from Ship’s Cove to Kenepuru Saddle is closed to bikes in the height of summer. When the track had lost most of its altitude, a side track headed off to Schoolhouse Bay campsite. Here I saw what turned out to be the first of many landslips on the track. It was still passable though and I was glad as this was a stunning spot. There were some cyclists having a break and I waved hello then headed along the shoreline for some solitude.

Resolution Bay

DOC signage at Schoolhouse Bay junction

Resolution Bay

 

There are plenty of accommodation options along the Queen Charlotte track. It is possible to camp if you carry in all your gear as there are plenty of campsites and shelters, or there are a variety of lodgings on route. You can walk as much or as little of the track a day due to the number of options, and you can even do sections as individual day walks, by getting the boat to one of the various piers along the way. Following a back injury in 2013 and a shoulder injury in 2016, I made the decision to stay in lodgings along the route, meaning I could just carry a day pack without a lot of excessive weight on joints that can no longer withstand the strain.

There wasn’t a lot of space to set up camp here but the view was worth the detour alone, and although it wasn’t a long walk from Ship’s Cove, I could easily see why people would want to stay here. This cove was another of what was a recurring theme with this hike: not wanting to move on because it was such a beautiful spot. I had a snack whilst contemplating the clouds, but eventually I bid the cyclists goodbye and left them behind.

Schoolhouse Bay panorama

Panorama from Schoolhouse Bay campsite

Beach at Schoolhouse Bay campsite

 

Back on the Queen Charlotte track there was a section on private land behind some lodges before the track began climbing up towards another ridge. There were a few streams to break up the monotony of the trees whilst there was no view, but as the track climbed up the hillside, the trees opened up once more to show off the lie of the land and demonstrate the expanse of the forest. The last views over Resolution Bay were as stunning as the first had been and then the track disappeared into the bushes once more. I used to find forest walks in Scotland a bit boring as the trees were usually either pine or birch with little variety, and with a rather cultivated feel to them. On this side of the world, the forests feel wild and untamed and the variety in plant life is exciting. From low ferns and bushes to tall palms, vines and tree ferns, there is constantly something interesting to look at as you walk along.

Red fern leaves

QCT crossing onto private land

Fork in the track

Waterfall next to the track

Waterfall next to the QCT

Looking back towards the previous ridge behind Resolution Bay

Further round Resolution Bay

Cabbage tree

Leaving Resolution Bay behind

 

Shortly after another landslip,  Endeavour Inlet comes into view for the first time and a recently erected picnic bench provides a seat. A drop toilet in the bushes is one of the few toilets on the track that is outwith accommodation spots. I stopped for a break and a top up of sunscreen. The New Zealand sun is harsh and with such constant exposure, sunscreen is a must on this trek. I was convinced I was near the end of the day’s hike, but in reality, I still had most of the length of the arm of Endeavour Inlet to hike.

Landslip blocking most of the path

Looking out over Endeavour Inlet from the viewpoint

 

From the benches though it was downhill. Passing some more landslips, I reached the 61km (38mile) mark and onwards the track made its way down to the shoreline. With regular breaks in the trees it was an ever-evolving vista. The blue water sparkled in the sunshine and I felt a million miles away from anywhere and anyone. A few stony beaches scattered the shoreline, and even when I came across a pier there was nobody around.

Descending down into Endeavour Inlet

Hiking through the trees

Endeavour Inlet panorama

Beautiful blue water

Curled up fern frond

Panorama of Endeavour Inlet

 

I came across a sign that detailed my accommodation for the night was just another 25mins away. After a little longer among the vegetation, the track came out at a collection of baches known as The Pines. Suddenly I was walking through well maintained grass and looking out at boats moored off the myriad of piers. Yet still there was not a soul about.

Nearly at my night's accommodation

Walking through The Pines

Looking towards the head of Endeavour Inlet

 

After passing house after house after house, the track wound back into the bushes and a sign pointed to a spur track leading to a Rimu viewing platform. I assumed this meant a viewing platform overlooking the sea, but in fact it was an area to admire a rather large rimu tree, a tree endemic to New Zealand. It was certainly a decent size – I couldn’t fit the whole tree in one photograph – but it was a brief distraction from the main track which shortly after brought me to the much-awaited sign for Furneaux Lodge, my accommodation for the night. It had by now been about 5 hrs since I left Ship’s Cove behind.

Rimu viewing platform

Sun sparkling through the branches of a rimu tree

Furneaux Lodge sign on the QCT

 

Furneaux Lodge couldn’t have been more idyllically set if it tried. A central homestead containing a restaurant and bar with a scattering of cabins amongst the trees, all just metres away from the sparkling ocean lapping the shore of Endeavour Inlet. I had booked myself a hikers cabin: a bunk room with shared bathroom. I was quick to dump my stuff, take off my hiking boots and explore the grounds in my bare feet, the soft grass easing my sores. This was Heaven on Earth. I ate at the restaurant which was rather expensive for its less-than-filling portion sizes, and after making myself a hot chocolate with the provided equipment in my cabin, I took my mug down to the bench on the shore to watch the sun set, silently swatting away flies as the sky changed colour. Then it was just a short distance to retreat for a good night’s sleep.

Endeavour Inlet from Furneaux Lodge

Furneaux Lodge

Furneaux Lodge panorama

Sunset at Furneaux Lodge

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