Haast to Lake Paringa

Reaching the west coast feels like a milestone and our first day cycling alongside the Tasman Sea enjoyed bright sunshine.

When you’re always moving and don’t have a home I’m learning I need to live in the moment more (hard for a planner like me). I’m starting to really appreciate unexpected gifts that come to me, in contrast to those anticipated on the route. Ship Creek came along as one of those gifts, a beautiful surprise ten miles from Haast. Days on I still hold a parcel of the peace the place offered and instilled in me: I hope I always will.

At Ship Creek we were greeted by fluttering Fantails fussing around us as we secured the bikes. Lovely characterful wee birds we delight in their quick acrobatics and how close they come: landing on my feet. Walking along the boardwalk we could hear the pounding surf, and reaching the sand Lilz caught sight of black rounded dorsal fins skirting the beach. Hector’s Dolphins! Just beyond the breakers the world's smallest (1.5m) and one of the rarest dolphins - 7000 individuals live only in NZ, 75% on this coast - were cruising the nearshore waters in front of us.

The beach itself stretched to the horizon, encased by the sequence of golden sedge, wind-clipped forest, and hazy mountains, and was littered with fantastic sculptural driftwood and pebbles (only pocketed one or two).

When the sandflies (like midges) drove us from the bright shore, we delved into the dark interior of a remnant swamp grove behind the beach. A different place of magic. In South Westland, one tree towers over all others - the kahikatea. NZ’s tallest tree, its straight distinctive silhouette reaches for the sky up to 65 metres above its buttressed roots, that interlock with their neighbours’ to hold themselves upright in the bog. Kahikatea swamp forests are now rare. Demand for timber and land for agriculture (largely dairy farms) have seen these forest giants hacked away and their wetlands drained. Their pale, odourless timbers were perfect for packaging butter and cheese as they did not taint or stain the produce, and from the early 1900s the ancient kahikatea trunks were fashioned into millions of crates to service dairy exports from New Zealand to Britain. By the late 1940s kahikatea covered areas had slid into mythical status.

But at Ship Creek a sliver remains and what a beautiful place of respite it is: a breathing space of indescribable variety of green life. Lilz described it as one of the best places he’d ever been, and it had such calming effect on us both.

Reluctantly leaving our coastal paradise (it was now past 2pm and we still had 20 miles to go) we climbed several hills - giving glimpses of sparkly ocean behind us - and arrived at inland Paringa Lake as chilly dusk fell. For once, we weren’t the only ones at the Department of Conservation campsite and it felt strange to hear human hubbub amongst the nightly nature sounds.Meer informatie