Day 1, Saturday: Home – Bluebridge – Picton – Nelson
One thing I’ve learned is that motorbikes are extremely evocative – and sociable. People just wander up to you and tell you about their first love: the AJS they restored from parts and rode 12 miles every day to school on unsealed roads; the Triumph that their brother owned; the Harley Davidson they had before they married and had to exchange for a mortgage; or the Ducati they’re going to own in a couple of years’ time when that last child leaves home. All of this while they’re looking at your Kawasaki ZRX1200R – a bike that looks like none of the above yet, strangely, does to them.
And so it was with the beginning to this latest foray to the Isla du Sud, a.k.a: The Mainland, Motorcycle Heaven. Mrs H and I were lined up waiting for the OK to board the Bluebridge when I got to chatting with this guy who was returning home to Ashburton. An aspiring Ducatisti. Turns out he was a cousin of Mrs H’s. Small world!
It is always a rush to drive off the ferry onto southern shores. This trip was no exception. After topping up the tanks, we opted for the more scenic route to Nelson via Queen Charlotte Sound to Havelock. This day we were able to enjoy the scenery more than usual because of the annual Picton to Havelock relay race. Lots of runners and their support crews made it harder than usual to “carve” this most excellent of bike roads. The easy pace quickly got us into holiday mode, as did a chat with a couple of Nelson Ulysses members who were acting as race marshals for the relay. There is something to be said for the “brotherhood” of bikers.
From Havelock we had the road pretty much to ourselves. High overcast, not much wind. Almost ideal riding conditions. The Rai Valley was typically lush, permeated with odours of dairy cows and high-quality silage. Once we had cleared the Whangamoas the skies cleared and out came the sun to welcome us to Nelson. We had taken the precaution of booking a motel – a wise move, as this was Wearable Art Awards weekend in Nelson, the last ever in this town.
Summer twilight prompted a two-up pre-dinner ride out to Motueka and back. Mrs H makes a great, albeit infrequent pillion. Once we had cleared the Nelson/Stoke traffic we were largely unhindered by other vehicles. Water features large on this ride – particularly the short but spectacular waterfront stretch at Ruby Bay, and then the Motueka estuary. The reflection of the descending twilight on estuary inlet was something special. Leaving Motueka after refuelling, it was dark. However the moon was rising behind the Nelson hills and the stars were coming out overhead. These things you don’t notice when driving a car!
The Hot Rocks Pizza joint at Tahunanui is now highly recommended by us!
Day 2, Sunday. Nelson – Takaka – Nelson
A good friend of ours lives on a lifestyle block at Takaka, so we phoned to see if she was going to be home, got directions and then hit the highway. We retraced, this time on two bikes, last evening’s route to Motueka where we stopped for kai and coffee. Our choice of café was determined by two motorcycles parked outside. Entering the premises we found a proprietor who rode bikes and appropriate reading material, in the form of the most recent editions of motorcycling magazines. The coffee and corn fritters were excellent.
The day was fine, but cold. The previous days had seen a late winter storm strike most of the South Island and the Kahurangis were very white indeed. Ah, the Takaka hill. We had traversed this magnificent stretch of road on our last trip, so were aware of any “moments” it may present. It was showing remnants of winter grit but no horrors awaited. Passing over the top, the air was peppered with snowflakes. It was hard to tell where these were coming from. There were no obvious snow clouds and it was a bit far for them to have been blown off the Kahurangis. Anyway, they created a magical mood before our descent.
Takaka is a prosperous and flourishing township and Golden Bay was at its spring finest. Lush and green; plump, healthy livestock; blossom on fruit trees and wonderful roads.
After a short stop at our friend’s place, we rode into Takaka and followed the road out past the dairy factory, through Golden Bay and Ligar Bay until the seal stopped just past Wainui (we don’t do no gravel!), where we turned around and road back, as you do! There are spectacular ocean views to be had on this road, and of the Abel Tasman National Park. Some of the limestone escarpments and the natural tunnel near the old cement works are also impressive. Two winter-weary Wellingtonians appreciated greatly the warmth of the sun on our backs.
Then it was back over the Takaka hill to Nelson in the soft, late afternoon light.
We arrived back in Nelson in time for a two-up tiki tour. The town is thriving. Real estate developers are hard at work and disgruntled Aucklanders are snapping up the best of it. Property prices in Nelson are well ahead of Wellington and probably on a par with parts of Auckland. We were annoyed to find that the iconic Nelson eatery – Chez Eelco – had closed. A neighbouring restaurateur said it was to be reborn as a bar. Some people have no soul…
Day 3, Monday. Nelson – Murchison – Westport – Punakaiki
Although the weather forecast wasn’t that flash, we decided to head off southwards to Murchison and the West Coast. Again the weather was cold, this time with high overcast and perhaps a sense of gloominess. Most traffic ceased at about Wakefield and we had the joys of the sweeping run through to Murchison to enjoy, apart from the occasional truck and trailer unit. At Glenhope it started to spit rather threateningly, so we stopped and covered luggage. By the time we hit Murchison, they day had taken on a more promising look, although there had been a heavy shower immediately prior to our arrival.
Despite the onset of “senior moments”, we remembered one critical thing about Murchison from our last visit in March: “Never buy a coffee at the tea rooms!” So we sojourned instead to the establishment across the road in the pub.
The road was wet all the way from Murchison to Westport. Apart from a couple of campervans, we were about the only vehicles on the road. The ride was moody, with remnants of rain clouds cloaking the peaks and the lush native bush still with a wet sheen.
I often ponder about campervans. Questions like: “Why?”
One such question is why people are allowed to wander around unrestrained inside campervans while the vans are in motion, making cups of tea, playing euchre on the back table, that sort of thing. On this part of our journey, approaching Berlins in the lower Buller Gorge, I caught up a campervan in which a woman appeared to be wandering aimlessly around its interior. Closer scrutiny revealed that she had a trigger-pack of Mr Muscle and was cleaning the insides of the windows…
We stopped a couple of times for photo opportunities. The Buller River is an impressive waterway, particularly within the confines of the gorge it has hewn from sedimentary rocks of various types over the ages. Hawks Crag, where the road is overhung by rock and coal measures, makes for some spectacular sights, the magnificence of which is hard to do justice with a camera.
Westport was a requisite detour for petrol (stations are few and far between on the Coast) and custard square. Mandalas tearooms on Palmerston Street makes the best custard square in Christendom – and anywhere else for that matter! Locals enquiring as to our travels were surprised that we had arrived in town without encountering the recent deluge.
From Westport we headed out past the cement works at the sometimes aptly named Cape Foulwind before heading off down the Coast to Punakaiki. This is a wonderful stretch of highway. Tourism has ensured that the Coast has vastly superior roads than would be possible under a population-based funding model. Paparoa National Park was draped in cloud and as we descended to the coast at Woodpecker Bay, the sea mist was being held up by a slight on-shore breeze. Woodpecker Bay is one of my most favourite places in the world, and we stopped for a short walk on the beach.
After checking in to our accommodation at Punakaiki, we went for a walk up the hill to the famous pancake rocks and their blowholes. The sun had emerged from below the middle-deck cloud and was casting the most wonderful golden light on the coast and the Paparoas behind. Although the tide was not at its optimum, there was enough of a westerly swell for some of the blowholes to be in action. The views up and down the Coast from this spectacular natural outcrop were stunning. Photographs have done justice to some.
We walked back to our digs in time to savour a tipple and watch the sun set like thunder into the Tasman Sea.
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Originally Posted by Jim2
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