NZ Train Journey, Days Six & Seven: My First Tramps

Everybody loves the observation car.

Now, please don't get confused. This entry is picking up from my first visit to Christchurch - the one during my epic train journey around New Zealand. Currently, my actual physical form is once again in Christchurch. However, in this entry my past self will be leaving Christchurch, then returning. Stay with me. Also, since I am now in Christchurch, and writing current posts from here, I'm going to skip describing Christchurch in the catch-up posts.

Days Four & Five: Hang out in Christchurch. Weather is crap up in the mountains, so I put off my continuing train trip until it is supposed to be better. Instead, I take a couple of walking tours of Chch, ride around a bit on a rented bike, play cards at the hostel, and hit a couple of bars with some fellow travellers.

Day Six: Only one Transalpine train leaves per day, so I get up at 7:00am in order to make it to the trains station on time, which requires two buses, with a transfer at the Central Bus Station. I got there just in time, luckily having no bags to check. Travelling with just a day pack on this little jaunt, leaving the laptop and everything else locked up at the hostel office. The train rolled out at 8:15am. Once again, gorgeous scenery. I have already put up videos taken from the train in previous posts, so check those out. Just new stuff here.

This is Arthur's Pass. Boomtown.

The train puts into the Arthur's Pass Station at 10:45am. The weather is perfect. I hit it just right. Before checking into the hostel, I stop by the visitors' information building for trail maps and motherly admonitions about the way that I am dressed and provisioned. (Of course I won't wear these jeans hiking, and of course I will buy food and water first. Sheesh.) At the hostel I decide to just stay in the dorm. It's one night, I have not brought anything valuable with me, and I plan to be so tired by the end of the day that I will zonk out immediately after hitting the pillow. I also manage to get the only non-bunk bed, so no having to put up with someone else clambering about, under or over me.

I had decided through previous research that the Avalanche Peak route would be my first tramp. (Ah, now you get the title - they don't say "hiking" here, they say "tramping.") All the official guides say that it takes 7 or 8 hours, so I guessed that I could probably do it in significantly less time (they always pad it out). Rather than give you a tramp narrative, just look at the pictures:

This is why I don't usually take pictures of myself.

Looking back across the valley at Devil's Punchbowl.

The trail itself, looking NNW.

No guard rails, as you can see...

An adjacent peak.

Looking back down the trail (see the people?).

My first Kea sighting.

This is why I don't usually let people take pictures of me. 

The Kea stalk one of my Israeli peak-buddies.

They have him surrounded! Protect the sandwich!

I have to admit that one of the main reasons for this tramp was to see Kea. Something about them just fascinates me. Parrots in the mountains. They are great - clever, cheeky, tons of personality. Check out this video:

I encourage you to search for other videos of them on YouTube. Very entertaining. Here is a video panorama taken from the summit:

Now, pictures from the hike back down, which was a different trail:

Looking back down at the village.

Looking back up the mountain at a small waterfall.

Same stream, bit further down.

So I made the hike in just over 5 hours, about as I had expected. Good thing too, because it really started to cool off up there as the sun went down. Back at the hostel I showered, changed clothes, and took a little nap. I also met one of my dorm-mates, a 50-something Californian named Dave. We headed next door to the Wobbly Kea restaurant for some dinner. I had a wonderful chicken curry and he had bangers and mash.

Back at the hostel common room, heated by a wood-burning stove, I enjoyed some red wine that I'd brought along, while helping out yet another Israeli with a puzzle. Dave conversed with some of the other backpackers staying at the hostel. Some people just can't resist dragging Americans into discussions of global politics, even when it's obvious that we are on vacation and would rather leave home at home. Dave's antagonist this evening was a young lad of ambiguous ethnic and religious provenance, but if I had to guess I could. Dave eventually just asked him straight out where he was from, and this guy's response was, I kid you not, "I am from my mother!" After that he became increasingly agitated and seemingly on the verge of provoking some physical confrontation with Dave. I was ready to jump in if need be, but then the youngster went out for a smoke and did not return. Don't let the door hit you on the way out.

The next day I woke early so that I could make a short hike to Devil's Punchbowl before catching the Transalpine once again as it passed through town.

Crossing the river to the opposite side of the valley.

On the way to the Punchbowl.

Almost there...

And a quick video of the Punchbowl itself. A little vertigo at the end. Sorry.

After this the charge on my iPhone gave out, and I did not bring the Nikon, so no more pics.

Back in town I checked out of the hostel, had some coffee at the Wobbly Kea, and bought some postcards for the Scott kids (which I'm still not sure they have received, eh-hem, Lee). Then I headed to the station and hopped back on the train, taking it to its western terminus, Greymouth. With just 10,000 people, Greymouth is the largest city on the west coast of the South Island. Despite its small size, I actually think that I could live here. Within only 8 built-up, urban blocks it has everything you need - bookstores, department store, grocery store, hardware store, cafes, restaurants, bars, hotels, and even an art gallery. Kind of a cool little place. I only had an hour before having to hop back on the train for the return journey to Christchurch, so I had some coffee, then had a pint of Guinness at the Royal Hotel and chatted with Barry the bartender, who was only a part-time bartender when he was not an engineer on the coal trains.

Map:


View Arthur's Pass and Greymouth in a larger map