New Zealand’s South Island: Frontier Chic
By guidebook authors Craig & Kathy Copeland, originally published in Calabasas Magazine.
"No worries," the New Zealanders say.
Thank the receptionist, and she'll reply "No worries."
Ask the gas station attendant if he can direct you to the resort, and he'll start by declaring "No worries."
Request mint sauce with your roast lamb, and the waiter will respond "No worries."
It's a cultural tic. You hear it frequently, everywhere. And at first it's endearing.
Begin pondering the peculiarities of this non sequitur, however, and it becomes annoying.
"Do I look worried?" you wonder." "Is there something I'm unaware of that I should be worried about?"
But eventually, as you get to know these people and their country, you appreciate the phrase for being laughably ironic.
Here you are, among a populace so self-effacing that their national bird is the tiny, rotund, flightless Kiwi with whom they feel an abiding, personal bond, going so far as to call themselves Kiwis. Here you are, in a society with amicable race relations, minimal pollution, little serious crime, and no mammalian predators. Here you are, in a blessedly isolated land that's graced with a temperate climate, agricultural abundance, and scenery that's never less than soothingly pastoral and often mountainously spectacular. Besides, it's summer in January: you're wiggling your toes in sandals while the neighbors back home are cranking up their thermostats.
No worries? Indeed.
That's why so many people--about two million annually--make the long journey to the bottom of the world to visit New Zealand. And you can almost hear their collective sigh of relief upon arriving in a nation so unlike most of their own: one in which nature, not man, appears to dominate. Sure, there's a sprinkling of cosmopolitan savoir-faire to be found, along with a dash of compelling architecture, and a pinch of scintillating nightlife. But the country is largely rural, not urban. A full one-third of it is protected as scenic reserves and national parks. So it's the "100% pure New Zealand," as advertised, that attracts the vast majority of visitors and inexorably draws them to the South Island.
Wellington, New Zealand's capital, and Auckland, its largest city, are both on the North Island. A mere 800,000 of the country's 4,129,000 citizens reside on the South Island. A glance at a map helps explain this imbalance. You'll see the South Island is bulging with mountains, studded with glaciers, and slashed by fiords, features that make it less habitable but more alluring. And if you look even closer, you might see tiny golden rings scattered about your map. Each is labeled: "Isengard," "Lothlorien," "Amon Hen," etc. These are place names from the Tolkien trilogy. The rings indicate where director Peter Jackson (a Kiwi, by the way) filmed various scenes for The Lord of the Rings. Note that it's the South Island, not the North, that's showered with these ring symbols. It's an accurate measure of which island affords the most captivating scenery.
So attempting to squeeze both islands into your itinerary will dilute the purity of your New Zealand experience. Fly in and out of Christchurch, the South Island's unofficial capital. But exit the city post haste. After a twelve-hour transpacific flight deposits you on foreign soil, in a different hemisphere, amid a new season, what you need is a respite, not an onslaught. Head directly north on Highway One, into the Waipara wine region. Within an hour, you'll reach Claremont Historic Country Estate.
At Claremont, you'll join a handful of guests secluded not just from the world but seemingly from time itself. Your room will be one of just four in a homestead built from local limestone in 1866, now meticulously restored and sumptuously furnished in high aristocratic style. You'll be feted by a chef who served my wife and me the most delectable and artfully presented meals we enjoyed during our entire six-week South Island odyssey. One particularly memorable dish was Thai-spiced pumpkin soup with coconut prawns and toasted pumpkin bread. But Claremont is not merely a place to stay and recuperate; it's a realm to be explored. Your host, Richard Goord, will invite you aboard his Land Rover to tour the estate's hinterlands. By all means, accept. The natural beauty is seductive. And Richard's commentary on the area's geology and paleontology is engrossing. Dusty topics, you think? Not when presented by an impassioned guide. You'll see.
While at Claremont, consider a foray to nearby Pegasus Bay Winery. It's worth it, if only for a taste, and no doubt the subsequent purchase, of their Pinot Noir, Riesling, Chardonnay, Sauvignon Semillon, or Merlot Cabernet. Ideally, sip while you dine at the winery's own bistro--named New Zealand's best casual dining restaurant in 2005 by Cuisine Magazine. They create their menu around their wine list and use predominantly local ingredients. The sophisticated atmosphere is punctuated by the work of New Zealand's leading artists. The platter for two is to swoon over. It includes freshly baked ciabatta, chilled organic tomato gazpacho, a golden beetroot, date and orange salad, terrine of confit chicken and duck with chestnuts, truffled rare beef, horseradish crostini, and cold, smoked, Akaroa salmon.
Have you overcome the jet-lag feeling that the essential you is a piece of lost luggage? If so, it's time to depart Claremont. Head inland, where the topography erupts skyward. It's a mere two-hour drive to New Zealand's Southern Alps, but allow for a leisurely stop en route, near Castle Hill village, at Kura Tawhiti Conservation Area. It's a grassy basin harboring an array of fantastic boulders and rock outcrops. Wandering among these monolithic stones and marveling at their sculpted shapes is a joy. But the beauty of this strange place is beyond what can be seen. Many visitors report feeling blissed-out here. They say the atmosphere stimulates childlike playfulness while inducing a powerful sense of tranquility. New Zealand's first settlers, the Maoris, obviously felt it, because this is where Tohungas (priests) trained their acolytes. The Dalai Lama felt it, too. He called the area "one of the energy source centers of the universe."
Just when you glimpse the magnitude of the Southern Alps--the range that gives the South Island its stegosaurus physique--turn off the highway and enter Cora Lynn Station, a 6000-acre sheep farm and nature reserve that camouflages Wilderness Lodge Arthur's Pass. The lodge is an inconspicuous structure that, rather than reach out and bludgeon you with opulence, proves just how stylish discretion can be. The veranda posts are hand-adzed silver pine. Some of the exterior walls are the same material used for humble, sheep-station outbuildings: corrugated iron. What's opulent here are the views. Every room overlooks the gorgeous Waimakiriri River Valley. But reserve one of the four alpine lodges, preferably number 21, where the view is enhanced by more space and privacy. Not that you should hole-up there. The lodge is owned and run by people who love the dramatic Arthur's Pass area, know it intimately, and are expert at gently guiding guests into the wilds where they can fully appreciate that drama. They might also offer to take you into the paddock for a dose of sheep-farm reality. Go. It's fun and fascinating to participate in the Kiwis' traditional livelihood, and to see exactly where your lovely Icebreaker superfine merino wool pullover came from. Afterward, you'll find the lodge restaurant staff is skilled at quelling appetites unleashed by outdoor activity. Tuck into dishes such as their cauliflower, blue cheese, and roasted pine-nut soup. No longer will "hearty" and "gourmet" seem mutually exclusive.
Having now probed the Southern Alps, you know they're steeep--an entirely new order of verticality, hence the third "e." So hiking here soon becomes a gravity-defying ordeal. (See "Walk This Way" sidebar.) Fortunately there's another means of exploring this awesome range: by air. The place to do it is Mt. Cook, New Zealand's tallest peak, a 12,349-ft glacier-clad colossus towering above a sea of icy crags. Base yourself at the Hermitage, in their loftiest room (number 1011), where you'll enjoy a walloping view of both the mighty mountain and its lieutenant, Mt. Sefton. But if you see blue sky above the summits, you should be soaring, not sitting. Book your flight with The Helicopter Line or Mount Cook Ski Planes. In a chopper, you'll hover like a hummingbird, for a closer, more thrilling encounter with the sheer rock-and-ice faces. In a plane, you'll land on a glacier, the pilot will cut the engine, and you'll wander atop the ice in silence. The experiences are different but equally stirring. If you can afford both, plunk down your plastic for Heli Line's "Mountains High" flight as well as Ski Planes' "Grand Circle" flight.
The farther southwest you travel on the South Island, the more remote it feels, and in fact is. Then suddenly, you enter Queenstown, a tourism vortex, as incongruous in this wild land as a goiter on a supermodel. It's beyond buzzy. The crowds and commercialism are cloying. It's New Zealand's most over-hyped city. So pierce it with sufficient momentum to glide out the other side, unsullied, on up the shore of 50-mile-long Lake Wakatipu, where you'll find the abundant natural splendor that Queenstown falsely lays claim to. Coast to a stop at either Matakauri Lodge or Blanket Bay.
Matakauri is sequestered within ten acres of native forest and welcomes only about a dozen guests at a time, so it's very private. Constructed of local stone and wood, it has a contemporary yet unpretentious "mountain Zen" look and feel. Reserve one of the four 700 sq. ft. villas perched above the lakeshore. Each has a capacious window seat beneath a wall of glass, where you can happily sprawl for hours. Only cruise-ship decks afford better views of water. Touches of elegance, like fresh-cut calla lilies in the living room, and a few sensual luxuries, like a double shower, make you feel at home yet very much on vacation. In all of New Zealand, this is the room my wife and I were most loath to leave. And the inspired cuisine at Matakauri gave us no reason to check out Queenstown restaurants.
Blanket Bay sprawls across 59 lakeside acres. The lodge itself is positively baronial, impressive even to heads of state and titans of industry like the one who built it: Tom Tusher, former president and CEO of Levi Strauss World Wide. Tusher visited the area on a fly-fishing trip and recognized its resort potential. He remains the sole owner and continues to reside on the property much of the year. The Blanket Bay rooms, suites and chalets are frontier chic--a handsome balance achieved through painstaking construction, masterful interior design, and the budget of a small nation. For example, Tusher summoned Mexican artisans to stress the newer doors until they appeared as rich in character as the much older timbers salvaged from an Australian wharf. He imported the most realistic gas fireplaces on the planet, all the way from South Africa. When he hires a chef whose talents live up to the setting, Blanket Bay will be the pinnacle of luxury in New Zealand.
While staying at Lake Wakatipu, two outings are compulsory: a jet-boat trip with Dart River Safaris, and a flight-seeing trip with Glacier Southern Lakes Helicopters.
A clever Kiwi, seeking to travel the country's shallow, braided, glacial meltwater streams, invented the propeller-less jet boat. It can rocket through mere inches of water. On the Dart, you'll spend an hour careening into a deep, blazing green, Tolkienesque mountain valley, then have the option of paddling an inflatable kayak back down-river. It's half thrill ride, half eco-therapy.
Book the "Fiordland Explorer" flight with Glacier Southern. They'll fly you over a vast sweep of Fiordland National Park. You'll visit mysterious Doubtful Sound. You'll cleave alpine passes that only mountaineers traverse. You'll land on a pristine beach and an icy peak. You'll enjoy a gourmet feast in the wilderness. And you'll swoop into Milford Sound, where in addition to being moved by the sight of New Zealand's most celebrated natural wonder, you'll realize that "celebrated" means crowded.
Not long ago, the beauty of Milford Sound was amplified by serenity. Today, a half-million tourists ogle the majestic fiord every year. And New Zealand's Tourism Strategy 2010 states the nation's resolve to generate ever-bigger waves of visitors--human tsunamis.
So when a Kiwi nods, smiles and says, "No worries," you can think, "Yup, because I visited New Zealand now, rather than later."
Start Planning
Claremont Historic Country Estate
www.claremont-house.com
Pegasus Bay Winery
www.pegasusbay.com
Wilderness Lodge Arthur's Pass
www.wildernesslodge.co.nz
The Hermitage
www.mount-cook.com
The Helicopter Line
www.helicopter.co.nz
Mount Cook Ski Planes
www.mtcookskiplanes.com
Matakauri Lodge
www.matakauri.com
Blanket Bay
www.blanketbay.com
Dart River Safaris
www.dartriver.co.nz
Glacier Southern Lakes Helicopters
www.heli-flights.co.nz
Walk This Way
Walking draws more visitors to New Zealand than any other activity. And the South Island offers the country's most scenic trails. For sheer spectacle, these dayhikes rival any on Earth.
The Heaphy Track, on the northwest coast, starting north of Karamea. The first nine miles, to Kohaihai River, are at the foot of the coastal mountains, on the edge of the Tasman Sea. This stretch is mostly level and rarely strays from the crashing surf. (3- to 9-hour round trip)
Mueller Hut, near Mount Cook, starting near the campground beyond the Hermitage. This short but very steep trail catapults you onto a ridgecrest for close-up views of soaring peaks and tumbling glaciers. (4- to 6-hour round trip)
Conical Peak, above Harris Saddle, via the Routeburn Track starting northwest of Glenorchy. Initially streamside amid splendid native beech forest, the trail quickly rises into the alpine zone, ultimately granting vast views of Fiordland. (8- to 10-hour round trip)
Gertrude Saddle, near Milford Sound, starting just east of Homer Tunnel. The trail probes a steep-walled cirque then climbs beside cascades, past an alpine lake, to an astonishing vantage high above Milford Sound. (6- to 8-hour round trip)
For a cushy heli-hiking experience, stay at Whare Kea Lodge on Lake Wanaka. The lodge itself is exquisite, but think of it only as basecamp. A helicopter will whisk you from the front lawn, up to Dragonfly Peak, on the edge of Mt. Aspiring National Park. Your guide will then lead you to Whare Kea Chalet--the poshest digs ever to grace an alpine wilderness. For details, visit www.wharekealodge.com.
For hiking gear, clothing, or advice, visit the Mainly Tramping store in Wanaka (Dunmore Street, ph +03 443 2888).
Water World
When traveling the South Island, you'll never be far from the coast. Most of it remains as beautiful as when the first Maoris paddled ashore. So devote at least a day of your journey to appreciating the water. How best to do that? Either in a sea kayak or a wetsuit.
The place to kayak is Abel Tasman National Park, where sandy bays are surrounded by an explosion of greenery, where warm water invites swimming, and where Wilson's Experiences operates two, comfy, beachfront lodges and employs guides adroit at revealing the secrets of this dreamy, subtropical sanctuary. For details visit www.abeltasman.co.nz.
It's worth donning a wetsuit to go swimming with wild dolphins in their natural habitat. You can do it southeast of Christchurch, in Akaroa Harbor, with Dolphins Up Close. You'll dive in among a pod of Hector's dolphins. They're playful, curious, and small: four to five feet long and about 100 lbs. Floating in the open ocean while these intelligent, wild, free, sonar-guided creatures whoosh past, mere inches away, is thrilling. For details visit www.swimmingwithdolphins.co.nz.
Pest Dressed
Brushtail possums are native to Australia, where they're considered cute and harmless and are even protected by law. But when introduced to New Zealand, possums rapidly became a reviled pest, breeding at a rate of 20 million per year.
Today, an estimated 70 million possums eat 22,000 tons of New Zealand's forest vegetation every night, decimating trees and destroying bird habitat. Understandably, trapping possums is a national mania. One positive result of the infestation, however, is the advent of possum-fur clothing.
Possum fur is finer than cashmere. And, like polar-bear fur, the fibers of possum fur are hollow: they trap heat and do not freeze in sub-zero climates. So New Zealand clothing manufacturers combined possum fur with merino wool to create a unique, sensuously soft, luxuriously warm, exquisitely beautiful fabric.
Both the World Wildlife Fund and the New Zealand Department of Conservation endorse New Zealand possum-fur clothing, so you can wear it without guilt. You'll find possum-merino sweaters, cardigans, socks, gloves, scarves and hats.
But just how chic can possum-merino be? Very. Find out at the Untouched World stores in Christchurch (155 Roydvale Ave, ph +64 3-357-9399) or Queenstown (1 The Mall, ph +64 3-442-4992).
Upon receiving an ensemble created by Untouched World, Bill Clinton called it "the smartest outfit I've been given in seven years of being President."
Chasing Rainbows
As the anchorman of NBC's Nightly News, Tom Brokaw commanded the helm of American TV journalism for two decades. When he stepped down, one of the first things he did was go fly fishing in New Zealand.
A trip to New Zealand is high on the life list of anyone who's passionate about stalking trout. The country is widely regarded as a fishing nirvana. And you'll find the reputation justified, if you're handy with a rod and reel.
"With limited skills, you'll struggle here," says fishing guide Ron Peacock. He and his wife, Robynne, own and run Fiordland Lodge. He's been guiding for 13 years and now serves about 50 clients a year, most of whom employ his services for two days or more. He charges NZ $600 a day.
"Our water is gin clear," Ron explains. "The fish can see you more clearly than you can see them. And trout are territorial. There's generally only one or two fish in a pool. So stealth and presentation are critical.
"Your best cast is usually your first one," he continues. "Blow the first cast and the fish will eye your fly thinking 'What the hell?' Then he's wary and unlikely to take the next cast, even if it's perfect.
"The more skilled you are, the more successful you'll be, and the more options you'll have. We've got 40 rivers and streams within an hour-and-a-half of our lodge. The variety is amazing: backcountry fishing, down-country fishing (in sheep and cattle country), spring rivers, big rivers, small rivers. Everything from highway access to helicopter access.
"And the scenery? Well, there's no ugly place to fish around here.
"I recently had a client who was a fishing guide himself, from Montana. After six days, he was stunned. Awed. By the wilderness, the mountains, and the fishing. We kept moving from pool to pool, catching fish constantly. Rainbows and browns, four-pounders, 22 to 30 inches.
"But you don't need to be a pro to enjoy fishing here, you just need some skill and experience. Get to a fly-fishing school before you come. Get on a river. And if you can't, well, I do offer instruction.
"I guarantee you'll see amazing scenery. I guarantee we'll find trout. And I guarantee you an excellent lunch. I just can't guarantee you'll catch fish."
For details, visit www.fiordlandlodge.co.nz. The lodge is a soaring post-and-beam structure whose great room affords a head-swiveling view of the serrated western horizon: from south to north. It's near Te Anau, just two hours' drive from the country's premier scenic wonder: Milford Sound. Reserve the lodge's executive suite: room 10.