No Fixed Abode: Pancake rocks!

Fri 22 Jan 2016 - Pancake rocks and the coastal highway.

As we were only 1km from Pancake Rocks we had a leisurely start then moved along to join the arriving tour buses at the main car park. Starting our walk at 10.00 we were spot on for high tide, just as planned last night.

The rocks themselves as are a series of naturally sculpted headlands supposedly looking like thin pancakes stacked on top of each other. Not sure if that’s a good analogy - you decide from the pictures. That said it is a pretty neat area and the weathered limestone cliffs provided plenty of fun looking at the weird formations and watching the waves crash in and around the surge pools and blow holes. Glenn arrived at the main blow hole just as it fired an impressive jet into the area that he was able to catch in a photo. He then spent the next 15 mins watching for big waves rolling in then starting the video camera in an attempt to record the next blow - without success. Ah well, the vagaries of nature.

As we were returning to the car park we had a real surprise. Walking along the path towards us was the young German girl who stayed at the same B&B as us in Turangi - many weeks ago in the North Island. We swapped travel tales before wishing her well and wondering at the chances of that happening.

The clouds were once again low around the mountains, which come right down to the shore here, making the coastal views very moody but not terribly easy to capture on camera but we had a go. After a surprisingly long time we left and drove a short way along the spectacular coastal road that winds its way around the mountains until we found a spot for lunch. Actually two stops as at the first the van seemed precariously perched near the edge of the crumbly rock.

We ate watching the waves crash against the shore and looking up at the never ending trees disappearing into the mist.

Next stop was Westport, a small town primarily a centre for the surrounding coal mining industry. Despite that it had a certain charm and we learned that the library offered free internet access so we hot footed there to publish the last four blog days and generally catch up with the rest of the world. The intenet room was full of travellers, locals and four noisy young boys all playing some online game. Eventually, despite some reproachful looks, their racket became so bad a fellow surfer walked up and gently reminded them they were in a library so should be quiet. The young boys, particularly the older ones, took night and tried to keep the noise down but eventually their voices grew loud once again. During this time a large, scruffy looking man had joined us sitting amongst the boys on the libraries computers. He gave them a surly look and snarled with menace in his voice “shut up”, which seemed to do the trick. Just goes to show the good parenting books are not always right!

Two hours and a cup of tea later we left for the supermarket to resupply in readiness for a visit to the rather remote north west corner of the South Island and with the weather showing signs of brightening we set off on highway 67 to the ‘end of the road’ town of Karamea. The first few miles we sped over flat open pasture land through an occasional town that had seen better days until the highway rejoined its embrace with the cliffs. If the sun had been out we would doubtless have stopped many times for photos but as it was we contented ourselves enjoying the scenery the best we could.

Abruptly the road made a sharp turn inland along the bank of a river until it crossed a very rickety old bridge. With nothing but forested slopes in sight we noticed a faint diagonal line high up across a distant mountainside and joked that that’s where we were heading. Turns out that’s where we were heading via the most windy road we've ever been on. Following every contour of the mountains, it twisted slowly up with never more than a 50m straight stretch before another sharp turn around a promontory or gully. Finally a sign indicated the 500m summit then it was more twists and turns down the other side. We passed creeks with names such as Glass eye and Chatterbox. It’s becoming an obsession with Yvonne to remember all of these names.

Eventually we joined another river bank that took us seaward to the tiny hamlet of Little Wanganui where Yvonne had found us a freedom camping site at the end of Wharf Road. The bumpy sandy track took us to the end of a long spit at the mouth of the river and a beautiful spot with 360 degree views; a small, driftwood strewn beach of fine sand; and only the call of birds to disturb the tranquility. Even the clouds started to break and we caught a few moments of evening sunshine before it disappeared over the headland and the moon came out in a clear evening sky.

Wonderful location, tasty lamb chops and the sound of the incoming waves. The perfect end to the day.