Kia ora Dawn - a postscript

Since returning home the last few weeks have been a blur of jet lag (washing clothes at 2am in the morning), Christmas family commitments and food comas. In fairness to Air New Zealand however, it deserves to be said that they honoured their commitment to compensate us for all the hassle with our flights. So perhaps, maybe, in a tiny way, they have recovered themselves in my esteem (a bit).

Kia ora!

Home

It is raining and cold when we leave at 6:15am. The hotel is so new that the walkway linking it to the airport terminal is still under construction so we must dash across the forecourt with our suitcases in the rain. 

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A few hours later in transit in Auckland, we get our last taste of coolness as we walk between the domestic and international terminals. One last moment of 17°C before seven hours of screen time and we emerge into blinding sunshine and the heat of a Perth afternoon.

Last stop

We wake up to a rather dark, misty and wet morning. Everyone else is still asleep but Rob has breakfast set up for us at 7am in the kitchen downstairs and keeps us company while we eat. He entertains us with more fascinating tales about his life and encourages Ross to consider buying the castle (yes it's been for sale for nearly 2 years) ... er, not that we have several spare millions lying around.

Rob is a gentleman to the end and holds an umbrella to escort us to our car when we leave. I give him a hug and wish him a Merry Christmas which seems to take him by surprise. He is almost a little dazed at being touched and mumbles that he had forgotten it is Christmas next week. We drive away from Castle Claremont in the pouring rain, and look back to see Rob still waving to us from the driveway before walking back into the house - shoulders slumped, face set and ever so slightly diminished. 

*****

Apart from a very soggy stop for coffee in Ashburton, it is a straight run on the highway back to Christchurch. Ross navigates the heavy rain, spray and poor visibility on the roads for 2.5 hours. Thankfully the highway has been reopened after the floods last week and we pass by the major earthworks to shore up the Rangitata River. Of course once we reach Christchurch and drop off the hire car by the airport, the rain starts to ease. 

It is only late morning but we check-in to the Novotel Christchurch Airport anyway, and we're thrilled to be spending our last night in New Zealand in some luxury. The hotel only opened a few weeks ago and from behind triple glazed glass, we can see the runway.

A very modern and comfortable room

The view from our window - Air New Zealand has planes in action so that's a good sign for the morrow!

We sit by the window mesmerised just watching the planes as we finish the last of our lunch provisions. It isn't raining any more but it looks gloomy outside and is very cold (only 15°C). We watch as some newly arrived visitors battle the gusty winds on the airport concourse below and struggle to load their suitcases onto a bus. A man loses his hat which bolts and tumbles away from his grasp and is blown across the road beneath a parked car.  

Ross and I decide to stay in the warmth and comfort of our room and spend the afternoon reading and watching movies instead! At dinner time, we go upstairs to the hotel restaurant, which is still so beautifully new and also has sweeping views of the airport runway. Wow! The food is great and I am so happy that there is Asian food on the menu that I could jump up and dance. Ross enjoys his last slab of NZ fish and I revel in some oh-so-welcome tofu and rice. 

With that, we conclude our holiday and retreat to our room for some sleep and an early start tomorrow for the long journey home.

Starting our journey home

Ever the accommodating hosts, Brian and Jan have breakfast ready for us early so that we can start our journey north. This has been our first experience of truly "hosted" accommodation - where we share common living areas of the house and meals with our hosts - and it has been like spending a night with family. We enjoy home-baked bread for breakfast which seems to embody our hosts' entire approach to caring for their guests:

"You're part of us for the night"

Our hosts are kind and knowledgeable about so many things: the local area where they have lived for decades, the South Island where they have worked for many years including as volunteers in wilderness areas, and beyond that to global politics, science and popular culture. From their tiny seaside hamlet in a remote corner of New Zealand, they've managed to survive with only one TV, a basic internet connection and forego expensive trips overseas... because The World comes to them.

Soon we are on our way and the rich green carpet rolls out more bucolic scenes for the 1.5 hour journey to Dunedin. 

On the road to Dunedin

Our lovely hosts in Invercargill had recommended a visit to Olveston House when we passed through Dunedin again so that is where we go, and manage to just squeak in to the 10:45am tour of the house. Photographs are not permitted inside and it is only possible to visit when on a guided tour. Once indoors it's clear why as the interior is immaculate and most of the furniture, art and artefacts are original. The house is a time capsule bequeathed to the City of Dunedin in the 1960s by Dorothy Theomin, the last surviving member of the Theomin family. Her father had been a wealthy Jewish businessman who made his fortune on the sale of pianos and sheet music. The house was specially designed and built in 1906, with many of the materials (wood, glass) transported over from the UK. It offers a fascinating insight into the upstairs/downstairs world of a well-to-do household down to the silverware in the butler's pantry and bells in each of the upstairs rooms for summoning the servants. Even the original 1920s Fiat is parked in the garage after it was painstakingly tracked down, repurchased and restored over 2 years in Christchurch.

The grand facade of Olveston House

Olveston House

This is the sort of greenhouse I dream about - benches covered with beautiful plants and flowers...

...including many varieties of fuchsia 

The historic house is very close to the city centre so we return to our 'favourite' Dunedin haunt for lunch - the Art Gallery cafe. It is then a long drive to Timaru so after a while I take the wheel for the next 2 hours. The sat nav takes us off the main highway when we're still some way out of Timaru and we travel along a quiet rural road for kilometre after kilometre. As the road gets narrower and the countryside even wilder, we start to wonder if we have the right place at all when we finally spot the sign for Castle Claremont. 

This morning's sunshine has given way to a gloomy, overcast afternoon and the air is heavy. So it feels quite eerie to make our way along the seemingly endless driveway that snakes its way uphill through thick bush. When we do finally emerge into a clearing at the top of the hill, we spot a very handsome granite mansion. 

It is hard not to be impressed when the house finally appears 

Having visited an exquisite historic house this morning, we are now spending the night in another. Castle Claremont is over 130 years old and built from granite quarried on site. Commissioned by a settler family, it took stonemasons and carpenters from England three years to construct. The house was leased to the Crown for a time and was once home to Lord Ranfurly, a former Governor of New Zealand. The present owner, and our host for the evening, Rob is a smartly dressed gentleman who meets our car and takes us around the house on an impromptu tour. Rob has poured his life and finances into restoring this house. The interior is grand and sympathetic to the heritage significance of this place. So many rooms(!) with beautiful antique furniture and art - a study, billiards room, large reception rooms and a dining room used for conferences. Ross is in his element! The grounds are extensive too with well-manicured lawns near the house, and there is even a chapel that is rented out for weddings sometimes. 

The entrance hall and main staircase

Upstairs is similarly magnificent and our suite for the evening is ridiculously large for just the two of us. Rob invites us to settle in and then come downstairs to the kitchen for a cup of tea. We meet Sally and Marion (a couple of retirees from Christchurch), and a German student, who are all volunteers assisting Rob with the garden and other odd jobs in exchange for a few days' accommodation. Sally is something of a snooker player and even carries her own cue and so Ross hastily arranges a game. 

Upstairs landing

Upstairs landing

Our enormous room, with a suitably enormous bathroom attached

The pretty chapel next to the house

Chapel interior

Sally fetches her cue from the car and the game is on... 

Ross in action

With great concentration and skill, Ross conducts himself admirably. After the last ball is sunk, Ross and I get back in the car and rely on Rob's hand-drawn mudmap to navigate the  15 minute drive to Timaru. At Bay Hill we find a casual bar and restaurant that serves up  delicious fish and roasted vegetables.

When we return to the house, everyone is seated around the fireplace enjoying some warmth and a cup of tea, and so we join in the conversation. The ladies are lovely and talk openly about their lives in Christchurch, including harrowing stories of the day 9 years ago when the big earthquake came and changed everything. Rob is a masterful raconteur and regales us with tales of his peripatetic life in Australia and New Zealand. He is a self-described 'Toad of Toad Hall' who hankers for new things and experiences. Castle Claremont was one of his whims but has lately become more of a yoke around his neck. Behind the flashy tales of Buicks bought and sold for profit, country towns and undertakers, there is a great weariness. He tries not to laugh as it triggers coughing fits and he seems to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. He tells us that but for the volunteers, he pretty much looks after this place on his own which is astonishing. In the long winter months he lives in the kitchen and a few rooms that are kept heated, with only his dogs for company.

Day 2 in the Catlins

At 5am I wake up to an almost deafening chorus of amazing birdsong. It's layer upon layer of complex melodies and continues until it becomes muffled by heavy rain. After navigating the tiny bathroom and microscopic washbasin to get ourselves ready, we wander over to the dining room for breakfast where, to our surprise, we meet two couples from Europe. We had no idea that there were other guests staying in the house, it is deceptively large. 

Warren, our host, encourages us to go to the Cathedral Cave when it opens this morning at low tide. My stomach is rebelling and the weather is terrible so I'm not keen, but it's our only opportunity. We take our leave after breakfast and sprint to the car with our suitcases as we try to dodge the heavy rain. It is no better once we arrive at the cave car park so we don our raincoats, take a deep breath, and head out into the elements. Fortunately the first part of the walk is quite sheltered as we hike downhill through dense forest. Emerging onto the beach we then cross a large expanse of open sand, following the tracks of other visitors, to reach the cave entrance.

The forest walk down to Cathedral Cave

It is very wet...and cold!

Crossing the sand at low tide

The cave is 199m in total passage length, making it one of the 30 longest known sea caves in the world. Unlike limestone caves which are hollowed out by water chemically dissolving calcite in the rock, sea caves are purely the result of brute force. Cathedral Cave was formed by the sea exploiting naturally occurring fractures in the sandstone until a cavern was formed by the relentless hammering of waves over thousands of years. This morning the yawning entrance of the cave is guarded by a deep pool of water and so visitors clamber over slippery wet rocks to get past. I choose to stay outside in the rain and admire the grand entrance while Ross joins the others and soon disappears into the inky blackness. After a few minutes he emerges from a different exit in the cliff face, having walked to the back of the cave where it joins with another. 

The lofty arch marking the entrance to Cathedral Cave

Now for the trek back across the beach and up the steep hill to the car. Unlike some clever Chinese tourists who have raincoats and umbrellas, our flimsy raincoats are decidedly sodden and getting wetter by the minute. We strike a brisk pace and soon Ross is powering up the hill in what becomes an epic unbroken sprint through the forest. We reach the car, lungs bursting and gasping for air, and very, very wet. It takes us a while to catch our breath and recover sufficiently to take to the road again. The small town of Owaka is our first stop for coffee and an opportunity to get indoors out of the rain. It's also a big enough town to have a supermarket and so we stock up on some lunch provisions before pressing on for another 20 minutes to Kaka Point.

Kaka Point is a seaside hamlet with homes cascading down the gentle slopes to the sea, much like Gracetown in WA. Now that the car's sat nav is working(!) we locate our accommodation at Catlins Gallery with ease. It is pouring with rain when we reach the house and knock on the door ... but there is no answer. We walk around to the front and see a covered deck with some laundry hanging up to "dry" - in this weather?! As we approach the glass balcony doors we spot the occupants. What must they think of us - boots muddy from the morning's walk, raincoats askew and looking like a pair of drowned rats. When they see us, our hosts Brian and Jan hurriedly greet us. Jan directs us to another entrance where we can unload our bags and then we're invited to hang our raincoats out to dry in the warm lounge room and join them at the table for a cup of tea. We bring our food with us and end up sharing lunch with this most amiable of couples. 

The rain is not letting up but our hosts suggest that if nothing else, we must try and visit nearby Nugget Point lighthouse while we're in these parts. They lend us some umbrellas and we set off. On Brian's recommendation, we stop briefly along the esplanade to book a table for tonight at the local restaurant. I get absolutely drenched just walking from the car to the restaurant and back. By the time Ross and I reach the Nugget Point car park 10 minutes later, the rain and wind are fierce. Despite having umbrellas, we are absolutely soaked after walking only a few metres. We reach the trailhead, look at each other and say "nope" before retreating to the car. Slightly crestfallen, we return to our accommodation for another cup of tea and more friendly conversation with our hosts. Jan is an artist and shows me the watercolour paintings of NZ landscapes in the downstairs gallery. She is also a keen gardener (a kindred spirit!) and proudly points out nearly every plant in the garden, which we can now wander around as the rain tapers off to a drizzle. 

At dinnertime, we take leave of our hosts and return to the esplanade for another meal of delicious NZ fish and then decide to try our luck at Nugget Point again. This time our efforts are rewarded. By the time we get there at 7:30pm, the rain has stopped and the setting sun casts a golden glow over the spectacular coastline. We even spot some fur seals far below!

Looking back towards Kaka Point

Nugget Point Lighthouse

Approaching Nugget Point

Sunset over the wild Catlins coast

The Nuggets

We would never have been able to walk the exposed sections of the track this afternoon so I am glad we came back in the dry. When we do finally reach the old 1869 lighthouse after a 20 minute walk, the view below reveals the rocky coastline and boulders ("nuggets") that give this place its name. We return to our lodgings much happier (and drier!) and excitedly tell our hosts about Nugget Point, surrounded by comfort and the gorgeous smell of fresh bread that is baking away in readiness for our breakfast tomorrow.