Post-Haast

The route from Queenstown to the west coast has to be one of the most beautiful in the country. The road starts with a winding ascent to panoramic glory, takes a stroll amongst the hills, and then opens out to crystal lakes and never-ending mountains. It's the sort of journey that would never bore; offering a different experience with every subtle change of weather, season, or time of day. Breaks in the clouds creates spotlights from heaven that illuminate different aspects of the scenery like a gallery of the gods.

Our original plan was to drive straight through this area and make it to the coast before nightfall, but our delayed departure from Queenstown meant we needed to find accommodation sooner. It was this twist of fate that led us to 'Makarora'. It wasn't so much what was at this village that made it so special, but what wasn't. It was pure & peaceful, and oh-so relaxing. An occasional crisp breeze swept down from the mountains and cleansed the soul, while the surrounding greenery breathed good health. If we'd been road tripping without time-constraints, it's the sort of place we'd have stayed for at least a week just to revitalise in doing nothing.

The holiday park was practically empty when we arrived so we had the choice of two dozen 'A-frame' cabins of variant degrees of luxury. Lucie and I chose basic, whereas our more mature travellers on their gap month picked something a little more upmarket that included a bathroom. By the time we made it to the restaurant at the grand old time of 7:30pm, the chef had already left for the day so we were left with only what our caffeine-fuelled waitress could muster. This turned out to be a feast of toasted sandwiches, microwaved-quiche, and round after round of wholesome booze. It seems amazing that a location that had so little could win our hearts so quickly and provide so many warm memories.

The next morning we fuelled up on fry-up, and were back on the road early, giving plenty of time to get to Fox Glacier in time for our afternoon ‘heli-hike’. Soon after ‘Haast Pass’, we made our first stop of the day to check out the famous ‘Blue Pools’ of Mount Aspiring National Park. Although only a 15 minute walk from the road, these pools felt like stumbling onto another plane of existence. The contrasting colours are almost too rich to be anything other than a dream. Deep azure blue glacial water gathers in light-grey cradles of rock. The surrounding forest is covered on every surface with life and colour that appears prehistoric and preserved. The water is so impossibly clear that fish appear suspended in air.

The only thing that contradicts the lost atmosphere is the quality of the bridge that crosses the river and how well-kept the paths are. Like some route through a theme world of an amusement park giving people a glimpse of the past. We wandered around the waters, skimmed stones, and soaked up the surroundings, before reluctantly acknowledging the movement of time, and the need to move on. From this point on it was pretty much all downhill. The valley floor widened and the mountains on either side faded into the distance before meeting the ocean and disappearing beneath the surface. When we faced a similar fate upon reaching the town of ‘Haast’, the road turned sharply north and we followed the coast towards glacier country.