Wet Wet Wet – ‘I feel it in my fingers – I feel it in my toes’

Friday 19th January

We awoke to mizzly rain this Friday morning; clearly [bad word] the cloud cover had returned overnight in the far southeast of South Island. And so for the second time [the first time was leaving Arthur’s Pass last Wednesday week] we faced the imminent prospect of leaving our motel lodge in the pouring rain. Bugger!

What a shame, because the Catlins region of SI is an area that we would have liked to have explored much further. But under the circumstances, with visibility down to less than a kilometre, there seemed little point – even taking a picture or two was futile.

So we pressed on northwards for 2½ hours - getting thoroughly soaked through to the skin – again! – until we reached the City of Dunedin, back on SH1,when the rain suddenly abated. After another refuelling stop in the City we decided to keep on travelling north towards Christchurch until we get at least another 400 km (250 miles) out of the day’s ride. The only obvious drawback to this tactic is that we will traversing the Waitaki River near its coastal mouth, and therefore missing the river’s associated inland valley, where lives the Jones family around 70-80 km to the west. We would both have liked to see John & Pip again, if only for just one further night.

But I hereby give official notice – and advance warning – to the Jones family:

‘HASTA LA VISTA BABIES … I’LL BE BACK! .. You ain’t seen the last of me yet’ – ;o)

By 5:20pm, and 416 km (258miles) after our departure from Papatowai, we arrive at the industrialised town of Ashburton. Time to call it a day. So we book into a ‘Best Western’ motel and once more check the road alas, for the umpteenth time, and confirm to ourselves the earlier preconceived plan to head on through Christchurch tomorrow morning and hopefully get to the ‘special’ Pacific coastal township of Kaikoura by early afternoon, where we intend to stopover for two nights.

Oh – and by the way, my left glove has also sprung a leak! .. :o(

Update – Saturday 20th January

After another 3½-hour journey – again all totally ridden in the pouring rain – we make it to Kaikoura, where the first thing we see a load of people watching a small pod of dolphins that are hunting around the rocks within 50-75 metres of the shoreline. Ellen jumped off for an inquisitive look …

… I didn’t bother, cuz I’ve seen it all before – on the telly! ;o)

We then find our next two nights’ accommodation. “The Garden Shed” just off the high street, which literally is our hosts’ back garden shed that has been tastefully converted into a self-contained – and completely detached! – guest studio unit.

This will do for us just fine until next Monday morning, 22nd Jan, when we must be at the Picton Ferry Terminal, 156 km (97 miles) away in order to catch the 1:15pm ferryboat back to Wellington, North Island.

The South Island journey, so far

Stayed tuned! – As all will be revealed just why we're here, if the weather and a fair wind, and luck is on our side during the next 48 hours or so …

… The World’s Fastest Indian; a Land’s End look-alike; coupled with Cornish Coastline-type Scenery

Thursday 18th January

The weather prospects for today are not good. Overcast, cool and misty, with perhaps the odd drizzly shower around the south area of Southland in particular. Meanwhile, the rest of the country basks in warm summer sunshine! :o(

After a self-cooked breakfast of scrambled egg on toast, liberally topped with Pip’s soon-to-be-world-famous bottled plum sauce – like ‘Daddies’ or ‘HP Branston’ sauce but HEAPS better – we take the short 30 km (19 mile) journey eastwards into the City of Invercargill; find and internet café and look around the City Centre.

Invercargill was the hometown of Burt Munro (1899 – 1978), an eccentric motorcycle enthusiast who in 1967, with all the odds against him, put his irrepressable Kiwi spirit to the test on a shoestring budget and broke the world land speed record on the Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah, USA, on his restored and highly modified 1920 Indian motorbike. The record still stands to this very day for the particular class of motorcycle involved.

All I can say about Burt is: “… bloody awesome mate!”

Indeed, a ‘niche’ feature movie that recreated Burt’s achievement was released by a Kiwi (or Aussie?) production film company just 15 months ago, which starred Anthony Hopkins in the lead role. Not a widely distributed picture, in any country, but one that most motorcycling enthusiasts have at least heard about if not necessarily seen [due to the diluted distribution issue].

As mentioned, Invercargill is the most southerly city in New Zealand and as such gives the visitor an impression of parochial isolation. But the few people we encountered in the City seemed friendly enough and no doubt believe that Invercargill is the centre of the universe – just like Penzance folk do back home … and why not!

It was good to see a building that was constructed over 100 years ago too!

And does it really matter if Chrimbo decorations are still paraded after the Twelfth Night has long come and gone?

We press on down SH1 (State Highway 1) to the Township of Bluff …

… and 30 minutes later arrive at the southern tip of New Zealand.

Three weeks after leaving Cape Reinga, at the other extremity of SH1, I’m at the other end of the country

1,401 km = 871 miles

And there was me thinking that home, in Newquay, wuz a long way away from London ... !!

18,958 km = 11,780 miles

… and I get that ‘déjâ vu’ feeling again?!



874 miles = 1,407 km

DANG! There is so much that the UK and NZ have in common; it’s no wonder that Brits settle here so easily

But we get away from Bluff within the hour and start the long trek north with another essential re-fuelling stop back in Invercargill; before striking eastwards along SH92 towards the ‘Catlins’ coastal region of SI.

Soon the temperature drops to the extent that I am forced to stop along the verge, in the middle of nowhere – alongside a field full of woolly grazing four-legged curious onlookers – and zip-in my quilted jacket liner for some extra warmth.

After maybe a further 60 km (37 miles) we spot a road sign near the township of Waikawa directing us to ‘Niagara Falls (NZ)’ ... gotta be worth a look .. surely?

... and we soon see this spectacular sight – HUMPH!! ;o( ;o(

To explain: The Niagara Falls NZ (Mängai Piri) were named by a surveyor with an obvious sense of humour who had seen the large North American falls and named these small falls after them.

Today, whitebaiting is very popular below the falls during the Whitebait Season …. Allegedly! :o(

We carry on eastwards along the Catlins coastline until we come across Curio Bay, which reminds us so much of Cornwall.







Hell, they even surf here too!

Now if this isn’t a carbon copy of Constantine Bay, just west of Trevose Head, then I dunno what is!

Inverted upside down for the benefit of Brits .. ;o)

Now the right way up - but still inverted horizontally, only. See, it's almost a carbon copy of Constantine Bay

After another 20 km (12 miles) of delightful twisty roads, we see the road sign for the McLean Falls. Not to be fooled for a second time, as we know in advance that these falls are worthy of a view. So we turn off SH92 and comfortably negotiate the 2 km of gravel track to the inland National Trust-type car park.

A sign warns us that the Falls are located along a dirt footpath, which will involve around a 40 minutes (return) walk. So for security reasons we hump the heavy tank bag, our helmets and riding apparel, towards the Falls along a very undulating walkway through thick forest. Damn! I wish I hadn’t left my jacket liners in situ, as I start to pant and perspire heavily.

But the trek was worth it, as the McLean Falls are an idyllic spectacle. See the chap [middle RH side] for an idea of size and perspective.

When we get back to the bike, it’s six o’clock in the evening; time to start looking for tonight’s accommodation.

We loosely plan to find a motel in Owaka Township, around 30 km (19 miles) further on, but then spot a couple of roadside motels, displaying ‘Vacancy’ signs in the sleepy seaside village of Papatowai, “Where the Forest Meets the Sea”

The clouds then scatter and the evening sun shows its face.

What we do for the rest of the evening until dusk on the private wooden west-facing veranda of our self-contained unit within the ‘Southern Secret Motel’ … apart from listen to the natural sounds of the Forest, I shall now leave to your imagination [hic!] :o) :o)

What a fascinating, if not totally sunny, day we’ve had today