Heading north. And west

So, thoroughly steampunked by Oamaru, we headed north across the Canterbury Plains and into some miserable weather in Christchurch. Parked up in a rammed suburban campsite amongst the puddles we did a bit of lifemin and visted the local mall. Really livin'.
Day saved by going to an arty cinema to see Anchor Me, the biography of Don McGlashan, an obscure kiwi music fave.
We spent the next day wandering around the city . Pleasant tho it was we concluded that the city is better as a place to live than a place to visit. Obviously, it's 35 years since we lived there so was unrecognisable . Not least due to the 2011 earthquakes from which the city is still piecing itself together. Of note , the "pink palace" where we lived in the early 90s still stands!
Saturday morning we dodged showers to complete a fast flat park run, all but past our old house. Popular events here- more than 700 running! Then more memory lane wanderings to Sumner and Taylor's Mistake beaches, before driving into the mist and murk of Arthur's Pass.
We'd booked into Porters Lodge- in winter a ski field, which was basically just a carpark amongst dreich grey hills. The occasion was saved by very entertaining lodge staff and the arrival of Kerry and Lucy!
They are on their way back to Christchurch, finishing off their holiday but we had a lovely reunion over dinner before returning to the freezing vans!
The girls disappeared off early in the morning to the airport. So great to see them having what sounded like an amazing road trip. # vanlife.
Inertia started to set in but 20 mins down the hill and out of the clouds was Cave Stream. What better than an chest deep immersion in a freezing cold underground river to shake off the cobwebs??!
The levels were high and the water flow brisk so the sensible amongst us decided not to proceed. Those that were already immersed to their oxters continued on.. The river was brisk and a little challenging fighting the flow in places, but delivered ( once again) in the beauty of the smooth limestone shapes. And like previous, goes on just far enough for you to start thinking... "have I gone the right way?"
Wet but happy I emerged from my troglodytic paradise and we carried on our merry way, Helen graciously listening to my interminable reminiscences of the coast to coast race..
to shake that out of me Helen forced me to climb mt Avalanche. A beautiful 1800 m peak above Arthur's Pass, the scenery could have been Scottish - even down to the chilly wind- apart from;
1. The first 600m of the climb- so steep through the trees ( we don't have natural forest in Scotland) and
2. big fat cheeky Keas on the summit.Read more