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“Brown Owl” |
After leaving our sea legs behind we clambered into El Cheapo and headed for some hiking in the Nelson Lakes National Park. Our exact destination was a village called Saint Arnaud, 50km or so outside of Nelson, the gateway to the national park. On route we picked up a hitchhiking Dane called Morton who needed a ride to Nelson. He proved to be a refreshing companion for the 150km journey from Mokueta to Nelson. He had travelled through New Zealand 20 yrs ago and was keen to see if it had changed. We exchanged views on a number of issues, particularly, the increasing paranoia of non-indigenous New Zealanders towards losing cultural identity in the face of the resurgence and reassertion of Maori cultures and values. Notwithstanding the perceived threat of "Asians stealing our jobs". Our only concern was that having managed to hitchhike from Auckland to Nelson in just over three days Morton might not actually see any of the country!!!
By mid-afternoon we had arrived at our hostel (actually a wood cabin) immediately threw our bags into our rooms and headed to Lake Rotoiti. The Lake is a ubiquitous image throughout the Sth Island tourist trail and does not disappont to the naked eye. Rolling hills and Steep mountains provide the backdrop to the huge glassy waters, it takes 8 hours to walk its circumference and ducks and ducklings glide effortlessly on the surface. We strolled around the edge of the Lake drinking in the fresh air and stunning views.
Next day we started out early to hike to the top of Mount Roberts to enable us to get an aerial view of the Lake. I knew Becs meant business as the travelling tye-dye skirt (Becs writes - actually I DON"T own one of those) was put to one side and replaceds by the functional khaki, knee-length shorts, in a style not seen since Baden-Powell first formed the world scouting movement in 1907. "Brown Owl" meant business. Unfortunately, our day of peace and tranquility was not exactly shattered but certainly cracked when we were joined on the hills by a tribe of 40 school children and 10 teachers. Complaints regularly punctuated the air; "äre we nearly there yet"", ""my leg hurts", "this"is boring" . . . but the kids said nothing and just plodded on.
On the ascent to Mount Roberts we were indeed treated to a view that seemingly never ended and unusually for New Zealand, the sun shone. This view was somewhat spoiled by the scarring of the hills due to a profusion of deforestation by the early settlers in the 19th century. Following a swift tramp down the other side of Mount Roberts and one last sojourn to enjoy the Lakeside of Rotoiti we headed back to our cabin to watch the Ashes...."amazing Adelaide""...now there's another story.
previous travel blog entry
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