Doing the Trans Alpine Doddle

I have always had something of a love affair with trains. Over the years I have been fortunate enough to have the chance of riding some of the most famous trains on the planet. These include the "Train to the Clouds" in Argentine and all the alpine trains in Switzerland. I have also ridden on Australia's Puffing Billy and the lightning fast "Grand Vitesse" trains in France.

Up till now there had been one world famous train that I had not ridden on, and that was the famous Trans Alpine Train from Christchurch to Greymouth in New Zealand. Today I was going to tick that one from my bucket list.

We arose early (we always do), packed our bags and met our shuttle driver at 7.00 am. He took us to the Christchurch Railway Station where we checked in our luggage and boarded the famous train. At the appointed hour, it took off with a roar. Actually that is not quite correct, it took off at walking pace.

I thought that the slow speed might have been so that they didn't wake the sleeping inhabitants of Christchurch. It wasn't. It maintained the incredibly slow pace all the way from Christchurch to Greymouth. Seldom did it get over 60 kph, and for long periods it was much slower. Sometimes we stopped altogether for coal trains to pass from the opposite direction. Other times we stopped for no apparent reason.

Our journey was frequently interrupted with announcements apologizing for how late the train would be arriving in Greymouth. At least the carriages were comfy and the scenery really was amazing. It was a pity about the throng of Chinese tourists in our carriage who were making as much noise as about 200 children fueled with a diet of concentrated red cordial. It took all my self control to stop me from standing up and telling them to shut up.

The train finally crawled into Greymouth about 2 pm, and by that time we were all glad to get off. David had arranged for two rental cars to be waiting for us at the station, and there they were waiting for us.

Although we are generally heading south, we decided to take a 60 minute detour north to the famous Pancake Rocks at Punakaiki. Maggie and I had visited them 30 years ago, before they had become a tourist hotspot and we wanted to see them again.

When we exited from the van at the crowded car park, there was a lot of excitement. "Look a kiwi", Maggie shouted. We all got excited. It looked like it might be a kiwi, calmly wandering around the carpark. We later found out that it was a Weka, not a kiwi. Oh well. It could have just been a wild chicken.

The rugged rocky cliffs were certainly spectacular, and so was the $6.50 I was charged in the tourist shop for a small bottle of water. However it had been a long and quite hot day and our energy was flagging rapidly.

We climbed back into the van for the return journey back to Greymouth and then to Hokitika, our home for the night. Tomorrow we continue heading south to the Franz Joseph glacier (or what is left of it).Læs mere