February 28
Hanmer Springs to Blenheim
What a day. A total cock-up which may turn out to be a blessing in disguise. It started well enough, with a clear sky and lots of sun. I had an unhealthy breakfast - huge bacon sandwiches and a lump of rookworst - in order to finish my supplies before they got too long in the tooth.
|
I retraced my steps down the Waiau Valley, sped through Waiau and onto the old Inland Kaikoura road, now re-branded as the Alpine Pacific Touring Route. New Zealand delights in branding its roads but I’m not sure why. To an unromantic soul, where it goes is much more important than what it is called. It is a pretty road, not long sealed and very quiet as it rushes across some high ground and then plunges in and out of a series of river valleys. |
 |
|
|
 |
 |
|
|
The sky remained blue, with some hints of cloud around the mountains. I avoided Kaikoura, not my favourite place, and followed the main highway up the coast.
 |
 |
|
|
 |
 |
|
|
This is one of the best coastal roads in the country, as it interchanges with the railway in the confined space of the narrow coastal strip, between the sea and the slopes. The former is blue and full of seals, the latter steep and heavily wooded. |
|
 |
 |
|
|
Eventually the road turns inland, into the burnt fields of Marlborough. Whilst they were brown, they were probably not as bad as when I passed through this time last year.
 |
 |
|
|
Once in Blenheim, I sought out a butcher’s on the outskirts of town, source of the best black pudding I have found in New Zealand. I bought enough meat to last for the rest of the week and drove on to Picton.
 |
 |
|
|
 |
 |
|
|
The weather was lovely. I did some shopping in the supermarket, looked at the old hotel, which is now just a façade, and went to look at the water.
The view up the Sounds was perfect, the flowers were blooming and the sky was very blue. On a day like this, Picton has an almost exotic air, far removed from that of most ferry ports.
 |
When I reached the ferry terminal, everything was ominously quiet. After chatting to a foreign gentleman, whose nationality I couldn’t identify but who was very early for the 18.00 ferry, I decided to drive the kilometre from the vehicle check-in point back to the main passenger terminal and information point. Whilst waiting in the very short queue, a quick perusal of the timetable on the wall indicated the source of my problem. The 15.30 ferry that I was intending to catch and for which I had bought a ticket on the WWW runs from Wellington to Picton and I wanted to travel from Picton to Wellington. The lady at the counter was very nice, agreed that I was a fool but confided that there were many more like me. She was prepared to help by changing my booking to the 7.30 ferry, although she would be breaking the rules as they thought that the sea was a bit rough & they might cancel that sailing. |
Reacting with considerable speed, I decided that if the Cook Strait might be too rough for the ferry company it was definitely too rough for me, so I booked onto the following morning’s ferry instead and then found a motel in Blenheim for the night.
|
Blenheim has never been one of my favourite towns. It is flat, modern and a bit dull. The old river area has now been transformed with smart bridges, a fountain and some pedestrian walkways. There is some nice artwork on some of the street corners and there are very good notice boards, containing photos of the same area in previous years. It soon got very dark so I returned to the motel and had a rest. It began to rain steadily. My plan had been to go to the Italian restaurant next door to the motel, where I had eaten several times before. |
 |
|
Just to continue my run of misfortune, it was closed, the notice on the door not specifying why. I went to the next nearest restaurant, at a winery about 100 metres away, where I had gone for a quick wine tasting in the afternoon.
The Whitehaven Winery restaurant is very good. I won’t discuss the blonde waitress at any length as it would be bad for my blood pressure. The food was also amazing. The scallops wrapped in bacon, on ginger sushi, were exquisitely presented. Had it been in the scallop season, it would have been even better as frozen scallops lose some of their texture.
The main course was a rare lamb rump, with a kumara mousse and mushy peas in a rich jus. This was brilliant. The local Riesling, which had tasted good in the afternoon, was a touch disappointing. Unfortunately, it was too dark to take photos of the food. The rain fell hard whilst I ate but it had stopped by the time that I wandered back to the motel.
| Next Day |