Glacier country: Fox & Franz Josef

Thursday 8th September

Having gone to sleep with it snowing, we were expecting it to be slightly whiter than it was when we eventually pulled ourselves out of the warmth of our sleeping bags. There was a light dusting on the hills above the campsite but where we were, it was just damp. We were moving on today, after 3 days, so we started the rather cold task of putting the tent away. We let the outer shell dry whilst eating our breakfast but had to make a mad dash out to finish off when we saw it had started sleeting. Despite wanting to be out fairly early, we were finally hitting the road at 10. After driving past the shores of Lake Hawea and Lake Wanaka, we passed the small town of Makaroa, which marked the start of what's called the Haast mountain pass. This is where highway 6 weaves its way through a natural mountain pass to reach the west coast. Rather than rush straight through though, we did have a few stops to make along the way. The first was at a place called the “Blue Pools”. This was a short walk down to the Makaroa River, over a bouncy swing bridge to another bridge where we could view a number of deep blue pools that are fed by spring water from the mountains. It was a chilly day, so we rushed back to the car to get warm again. A little further on was the Haast Pass lookout. If we'd thought about it more, we probably wouldn't have bothered, as by the time we got to the top, it was snowing lightly and the clouds blotted out most of the view. Rather than loitering for a break in the clouds, we made our way back down the steep slope before the snow got any stronger. The final 3 stops were all impressive water falls leaping from the mountain side into the rivers below. There was the Fantail Falls, which was the smallest and named as it looks like a fanned tail. Second was the Thunder Creek Falls, which was a very high single jet of water cascading from a hole in the cliff face. Finally, was the one with the best name, Roaring Billy. This one was also the biggest of the 3, although there was a massive river between us and it. Where we were stood on the river was incredibly windy, so we took a quick snap and headed back to the car. The Haast Pass had been a really scenic drive and I thought before Charlotte said that it looked like something out of Jurassic Park. From Roaring Billy, we exited the pass, drove through the tiny, sandfly infested village of Haast and reached the west coast. The road turned north from here and wound its way along the coast. The weather in this part of the country was completely different to Wanaka the day before. It seemed as though the west coast had just caught the edge of the winter weather that had swept the country. We drove in beautiful sunshine, all the way to the small town of Fox Glacier (I'm sure it's blindingly obvious but I'll explain the reason behind the name further on in the blog). Upon our arrival at the campsite, we were told to pick a place in the tent area, which was fine. When we got there we both had a look but were sceptical. It was very open and very windy. A worker came up and asked if we were looking for a place to pitch, to which we replied we were. He recommended that we avoid this area, as a couple of trees had come down the previous night. We were very grateful for his advice and found a place that was much closer to the amenities and a tad more sheltered. The only drawback was that the ground wasn't made for camping and we bent pretty much every peg we had trying to secure our tent to the floor. After a few tantrums, we got away from it and walked into the village to buy some milk. When we calmed down a bit, the tent didn't seem to bad and we just accepted that they would have to do until we reached the next decent sized town. Freshened up, we left dinner until slightly later than usual and caught up with things in the nice warm TV room. When it did come round we had an old favourite that we hadn't had in months. People seem to think pasta, beans and carrots is a weird meal but we love it.

Friday 9th September

It really was a chilly night in the tent, so we were up and ready to explore pretty early. So was everyone else though and by the time we were leaving the campsite after breakfast, there were only a couple of motor homes left behind. Rather than go the environmentally unfriendly way and drive like everyone else, we decided to walk on the purpose built track to Fox Glacier. The track wound through thick rainforest for around 40 minutes before joining the side of the road until the car park at the end of the access road. At the end of the walk, was yet another walk. This one took us along the Fox River to a viewpoint that looked up to the Fox Glacier. The path to the viewpoint was quite steep but, thanks to the season, it was really quiet and pretty much had the place to ourselves. We'd glimpsed the glacier a couple of times on the route up but we really got a chance to appreciate it when we reached the top. We were both impressed and slightly underwhelmed at the same time. We had never seen a glacier before, so the sight of a massive lump of ice clinging to the end of a valley was definitely a sight to see. On the other hand it was small. We only know this because at the beginning of the walk up to the glacier there was a sign that showed the difference between the glacier in 2008 and 2014. Go back even further and it was even bigger than those photos depicted. It's a shame that it's retreated so far up the valley due to melting but we still got to see it. After a trio of French people left, it was only Charlotte and me left at the viewpoint, so we took the opportunity to get a few selfies and photos without the interruption of others asking for ones for themselves. When we felt we'd seen enough (it wasn't the only glacier in the area after all), we wandered back down the car park. Not far along the access road there was a side walk along the river to a viewpoint. The only problem from Charlotte's point of view was that there was a rather rusty swing bridge that we had to cross to get to the pathway. Despite my shouting back to her that I didn't think she'd make it across, she was close behind me and made it across easily. She wasn't looking forward to the return journey though. The routes became slightly confusing after crossing the bridge and we got even more confused when we came across 2 Chinese gentleman looking for a lake that was across the other side of town from where we were. After sending them in the right direction, we were slightly surprised to see them walk past us not far on. We visited the viewpoint, which wasn't worth the effort of the bridge. At a time the glacier would have been in view there but probably well over a hundred years ago. We turned back, crossed the rickety bridge and started walking back home for some lunch. Just across the bridge there was a rough map that we had a quick look at. It was then we found out that we had sent the Chinese in the wrong direction, after assuming they had walked to the glacier from town. There was a car park on the other side of the river, where obviously, they had come from. They were still miles away from the lake but they probably didn't benefit from being sent in the wrong direction from us. Anyway, we were sure they would get there and were keen to get back for some food. The day had turned out so warm and pleasant, we ate our noodles and soup out on the bench by our tent. Not wanting to sit around for the rest of the day, we decided to hit the beach. Along the road to the beach, there was a wonderful viewpoint taking in a huge chunk of the Southern Alps. There was a nifty little device that had a rotatable pointer that lined up which mountain was which. The road to Gillespie’s Beach was long, windy and unsealed, making its way through yet more rainforest that the West Coast seems to have in abundance. We had a grand plan for the rest of the day. We'd read there was a number of walks that stemmed from one another and eventually arrived at a seal colony. The whole walk would take us 3 and a half hours and plop us back at the car just in time for the sunset at 6 o'clock. It didn't quite turn out that way though. There was a sign plastered to a bigger sign that said that all but one of the walks was closed due to floods. We were really disappointed. A sign at the start of the long windy road would have been a little bit more helpful. We still thought we'd make the most of our trip, so walked as much as we could before we had to turn back. The path followed the top of the beach, weaving in and out of driftwood and thorny bushes before reaching a river outlet. Just in from the river was where the path ended, thanks to half a bridge having been washed away. We admired the view of the Alps for a little while before heading back along the shoreline. On our walk back we deliberated whether or not to wait around for 2 and a half hours until the sunset. When we got back to the car we ate our second lunch and decided that we'd head back. The crashing waves of the Tasman Sea were mesmerising but the stinging Sandflies just weren't worth it. We will be visiting coastal town on our way up anyway. We had a nice relaxing evening back at the campsite and still managed to see a wee bit of the sunset from where we were. Charlotte came up with a mishmash dinner made up of rice, tomatoes and mixed beans, all stirred together in a saucepan. It was the second experimental dinner of the week, after Tuesday's prison soup. Despite its unusual look it didn't taste terrible and that’s what matters, as long as we have full bellies when we go to sleep.

Saturday 10th September

It was yet another clear night, which meant yet another chilly one for Charlotte and me. We were getting used to them by now though. Our bed clothes kept us fairly comfortable. We always notice the cold at dawn though, just as we are waking up. Charlotte was up and about well before I was and had everything ready for breakfast by the time I faced the cold. Not only had the night been cold, there was a lot of dew around, so we had a long tedious wait for the tent to dry suffice for us to put it away. Eventually, we got fed up with waiting and settled with getting it up at our next stop and letting it dry there. Before leaving Fox Glacier, we went to a walk that was just down the road from the campground. Apparently so had the rest of the town as we had to park in the overflow car park. The walk was a loop around small Lake Matheson, which is popular because on clear, calm days the still water of the lake perfectly reflect the Southern Alps in the background. When we got there though, it wasn't as still as it could have been but half the lake still gave a nice reflection of the snow capped peaks. There were various viewpoints around the lake, some crowded with Chinese tourists, others more quiet but all gave pretty much the same view. Once we'd made it round the lake, we went back to the car, ready for the short drive to our next destination. A short hop up the road is the small town of Franz Josef, who's main attraction is also a glacier. It could have turned out to be quite a long hop for us though as we were cutting it fine with petrol, choosing to wait until Franz Josef, rather than fill up in Fox. It wouldn't have been too bad if the road was straight and flat but, typical of New Zealand, it was steep and windy. There was a nervous moment when the petrol light came on but we just about made it to Franz Josef running off fumes. Rather than get petrol first, we checked in to the campsite and got the tent out to dry. Whilst that was drying, we had lunch in the afternoon sunshine considering what to do for the day. The plan was to not do much at all, with just a quick visit to town to have a nose around. We'd have liked to walk there but the camp site was a fair walk away right along the highway, so we didn't fancy it. We needed petrol anyway, so filled up when we got there and then had a look around the small shops and supermarket. After there only being a tiny convenience store in Fox Glacier, the small supermarket in Franz Josef was lovely and it was nice to see normal prices, unlike the inflated ones we'd found down the road. How there could be a 55 cent difference between the same bottle of milk is anyone's guess. We bought a few items that we needed, included our first piece of meat since leaving Queenstown and drove back to the campsite. We sat back on the bench next to our tent and deliberated our itinerary for the next few days. We checked the weather and walks in the area and made a snap decision to go and do one that evening, incorporating it with watching the sunset, something we'd missed out on the day before. Our original plan was to do the walk on the Monday but weren't convinced that we'd see the sunset with the rain that was forecast to come in. Over the next few days. We hopped back in the car and drove about half an hour out of town to the small coastal village of Okarito. There were a few walks in the area but we chose a shortish one that would have us back on the beach in time for sunset. The track went through marshland and rainforest before veering off up a steep hill. The hill was so steep and long we were cursing choosing the walk but when we got to the top we were treated to one of the most spectacular views we had ever seen (and that's not exaggerating). We had the Tasman Sea to our left, thick rainforest spread out in front of us and the uninterrupted Southern Alps dominating the horizon all the way rom north to south. It was peaceful, beautiful, tremendous. I could go on with superlatives for the rest of the blog. We had wonderful weather to soak it all in and we were all alone. From the vantage point we could clearly make out Mt.Cook/Aoraki, New Zealand's highest peak. After taking in more of the view, my eye fell on a white blob tucked in between 2 barely distinguishable valleys. We could only assume that it was Franz Josef glacier and both agreed that it was a perfect way to first glimpse it. We heard footsteps behind us and we were joined by a local, who seemed as impressed with the view as we were, despite having probably seen it thousands of times before. Charlotte and I certainly wouldn't complain if we had to see it every day!. The local only made a quick visit and we were alone once more. In the end, despite not wanting to, we had to tear ourselves away from the enthralling landscape. We walked back down the hill pretty chuffed with our find but also slightly disappointed that more tourists weren't enjoying the majesty of Okarito Trig Lookout. We made it back to the beach with about 20 minutes to spare before the sun dipped below the horizon into the Tasman Sea. The shape of the cloud above the sunset made it look like the sun had been a fire that had been put out by the sea and was just left smoking away. We drove back to the campsite in twilight very happy with the quick decision we'd made to get out and do an evening walk. The fun didn't stop there though, we still had our sausages that we'd bought from the supermarket earlier to enjoy, with some mash, veg and homemade gravy to go with them.

Sunday 11th September

We were used to the cold in the tent by now but the damp that seeped through always got on our nerves. No matter how hard we tried, when setting up the tent, or sleeping in it, there always seemed to be part of the tent touching the outer layer and letting the moisture through to us, we tend not to hang around in the mornings though and it's generally dries up pretty well. When we emerged from the tent this morning, there was thick cloud overhead, which we guessed had made it slightly milder overnight. After showers and breakfast, we were ready to go and see our second glacier of the week. With this one a little bit further away from the campsite than Fox had been, we decided to drive. When we pulled up we noticed that the car park was much fuller than Fox Glacier had been and from the larger size of the town of Franz Josef, we weren't surprise. The walk out to the glacier viewpoint took us about 40 minutes and wasn't really as busy as the car park suggested. When we first caught a glimpse of Franz Josef Glacier we immediately knew that it was the same one we'd seen from the viewpoint the day before. There was a congregation of people takin photos at the end of the walk, so we waited our turn to get ours. We felt that Franz Josef was slightly more impressive than Fox and put it down to that the view point was below the glacier looking upwards, whereas at Fox, we had been looking across at it. We didn't hang around too long at the end and followed the pathway back to the start, stopping off a couple of times to take snaps of a number of waterfalls bursting from the cliffs above us. When we got back to the car, we had a quick snack and then hunted down another walking track. This one passed a small pond called Peter’s Pools. They were named after a 9 year old boy who had camped by the lakes when the glacier had been just beyond them. The glacier was now about 3-4 kilometres up the valley. An information board by the lake told us that it was formed by a huge block of ice left over from when the glacier retreated years before and is called a Kettle Lake. On from Peter’s Pools was a very long swing bridge that led to a long walk up to a view point but we weren't going to be doing that walk, which was good news for Charlotte’s fear of long, wobbly bridges. Instead we followed a separate pathway, over  a wooden footbridge, across the glacier access road and started a new walk to Lake Wombat. The walk went up the side of a rainforest covered hill pretty steadily, before we reached a turn off for yet another walk. We didn't fancy this one though as it went on for another 3 and a half hours and the day was already getting on. Instead, it was just a short 10 minute walk on to Lake Wombat, where we sat down and had our lunch. As with various other places we'd visited around the glaciers, we had the lake all to ourselves, with the exception of hundreds of sandflies and the occasional helicopter flying overhead. Lake Wombat was another example of a kettle lake, a remnant of the long restated Franz Josef glacier. We finished our lunch, took some snaps and then walked back down to the beginning of the walk. It took us a fraction of the time it had to get there as it was all down hill. We had a 20 minute walk back to the car park and were only distracted along the way by a windy box that played the various bird noises we could hear amongst the trees. The trail seemed to go on forever but finally we made it back to the car. We didn't have anything to do for the rest of the day. We still had one full day to have another look around town and do a few walks in the area, so decided to have a relaxing Sunday afternoon researching, writing and doing photos. The weather had closed in a little bit since clearing slightly in the morning, so we felt it was justified. We made sure to catch the weather on the news, something which had become almost a nighty ritual thanks to camping, before heading to the kitchen for dinner. We had to wait a short while, as a large group of Asian women were rustling up dinner for their husbands. They eventually made a gap and sat down to eat, so we hopped in and cooked our sausage stir fry. Not long after sitting down, one of the younger Asian men came over to us with a bag in his hands. He told us, in flawless English, that in the bag was salted seaweed and it would be a perfect side dish with our stir fry. We gratefully accepted and took the plunge. It was tasty, but there was so much there, we had to stick some aside for the following day. Full up from dinner, we spent some more time in the warmth of the TV room before settling into the tent for yet another chilly night.

Monday 12th September

We'd pretty much done everything we'd wanted to do in the village of Franz Josef, so we allowed ourselves a little lie in. It was probably a mistake though, as it seems the longer you leave getting up in a tent, the more you just don't want to. By the time we'd showered and had breakfast, it was gone 10. We were slightly regretting booking 3 nights upon arrival and could easily have packed up the tent then and there and moved on to our next destination. Silly cancellation policies prevented this, so we thought we'd at least try and get a little bit out of the day. Form our weather watch, we'd learned that there was a rainy front coming in for the afternoon, so we thought it best to get out in the morning. We'd found 2 relatively short walks accessible from the town, so we decided to do them for the fresh air. At first we parked up in a car park in the centre of town but were put off by 2 burly men sitting in a pick up and looking in our direction. Instead we plonked ourselves right outside the walk in a residential street. Both walks were listed as 1hour 20 minutes return so we thought why not do both. There was a couple in front of us, so we thought we'd do the opposite walk to the one they chose. With them turning down the Canavan's Gorge track, we headed straight for the Tatare Tunnels. It was easy and gentle until the second half, where it ascended quite rapidly up a narrow pathway. We had never considered going in the tunnels and when we reached them, there was nothing really to persuade us otherwise. It was just a hole in earth, that had probably been used for winning decades ago, and the floor was flooded by constant drips from the ceiling. We had a peer into the darkness and shouted down to see if anyone else had chosen certain death but we got no reply. Shaking the slight temptation to head in, we turned round and walked back to the second walk to Canavn's Gorge. About halfway along the track we passed a sign telling us that there were explosives around and to keep to the path and evacuate if necessary. The sign was baffling as we weren't really sure what need they'd have for explosives on a rainforest walkway. We kept quiet past the sign and then passed a big green box that proudly announced that it was there that the explosives were kept. It was weird but we carried on. After passing the towns water supply we came to a bridge. We didn't cross it though. We'd read in a pamphlet that we'd picked up that nobody should cross the bridge at Canavan's Gorge due to safety reasons. Heavy flooding had weakened the bridge and it could collapse under strain. What we found weird (a running theme of this walk) was that there was no sign telling us not to cross the bridge, no sign telling us that we were at Canavan's Gorge, the bridge seemed okay and the gorge seemed small compared to most gorges we'd seen. We hung around a while considering our options but turned back, not wanting to make the evening news for falling to our deaths from a collapsing bridge. On our return journey, we passed a runner who we expected to see again in no time after him turning round at the bridge. We made it back to the car and never saw him again, so we could only assume the he stopped for a break at the bridge or, the bridge was perfectly fine and we were just being pathetic. We were just going on what the book had  said though. We forgot about it and drove into town to have one final look around. Nothing had changed in sleepy Franz Josef since our first visit and after not finding the pasty shop that Lonely Planet and our town map promised, we headed home to get our own lunch and keep warm in the TV room for the rest of the day. We had a look through our food box for what to have for dinner and found the only meal we could make was pasta, baked beans and veg. Not that that is ever a dissapointment. 

James and Charlotte