BoomerGirl Diary

New Zealand has two main passenger train lines on the South Island: The TranzScenic, which runs down the length of the island on the east coast, and the TranzAlpine, which travels across the middle of the island from the east coast to the west coast.

We boarded the TranzAlpine train at the Christchurch station on a foggy Saturday morning. The train took us through the Canterbury Plains to the Southern Alps via Arthur’s Pass. Even though the fog hid the mountaintops, the scenery of the Waimakariri River gorge and surrounding area was spectacular. One surprising highlight of the trip was the very dry humor of the train conductor’s commentary as we traveled along. He kept us informed and laughing too. We arrive in Greymouth mid-day, after a very pleasant and scenic train ride.

Greymouth’s unattractive name is derived from its location on the mouth of the Grey River. With about 15,000 inhabitants, it is the largest city on the west coast of New Zealand’s South Island.

We quickly check into our hotel and then head out on a tour of the area just north of Greymouth. A persistent drizzle, which certainly reinforces the "grey" in Greymouth, has now joined the fog but it also creates some rather beautiful waterfalls splashing down the cliffs above the roadside.

We make stops along the coast where the view out into the various bays is obscured by mist and fog, but the view back up into the mountains through the trees and fern trees is one that seems absolutely prehistoric. We keep expecting to see dinosaurs.

Our tour then takes us to the Punakaiki Pancake Rocks. The rocks along the shoreline here were formed millions of years ago by alternating layers of small marine creatures and sand, which became compressed on the ocean floor. This eventually created areas of rock with multiple layers of hard limestone and softer sandstone. When volcanic activity lifted the ocean floor out of the sea, the sandstone layers eroded away faster than the limestone, leaving cliffs with hundreds of horizontal slices along their faces that look like big stacks of pancakes. In many places, vertical air shafts created by rain meet with horizontal tunnels created by the ocean waves. At high tide, the ocean rushes through the vertical tunnels and force large amounts of water and compressed air upward through the vertical shafts. The result is a hissing, heaving, thumping landscape that occasionally emits geyser-like plumes of water.

There is a well-maintained walkway to the pancake rocks that first winds through native forest and coastal flax. (A side note about New Zealand’s flax: This is a native plant that reminds me of a large version of the yucca plants we have back home. The Maori people used the strong fibers in the flax plant’s leaves to weave baskets, floor mats and garments. They also used it to make fishing line and nets. Many beautiful weaving patterns were developed by the master craftswomen of the tribes, making their products useful works of art.) Signs along the walkway help keep us informed of what we are seeing, and continuously warn us to not get too close to the cliffs’ edges. Our tour guide has told us about a daring and successful helicopter rescue of a tourist that fell into one of these seething caverns of seawater, but it is difficult to picture anyone surviving the wave action for long.

We then travel a bit further up the coast to an area where we can walk out on a secluded beach and look for pieces of the greenstone, or jade that the Maori prized so highly. Our guide is the expert at this activity, and he quickly gathers up samples for all of us. He then explains the usefulness of certain plants and trees that we pass on the trail back to the bus. I wonder how people figured out which plants and fruits were edible and which were poisonous without the gathered knowledge being lost to one bad choice. Our ride back to Greymouth makes us glad that someone else is driving, as the rain and fog have become even heavier and the coastal road is narrow and winding.

Several travel writers have expressed the opinion that Greymouth does not have much going for it in the way of tourist activities. The next morning, we could see how that might be an easy conclusion. It is Sunday, and our train back to Christchurch does not leave until after lunch. The only things open in Greymouth besides the grocery store and Warehouse-Mart is the Jade Boulder Gallery and the Left Bank Art Gallery. Both of these galleries turn out to be interesting stops, however. The Jade Boulder Gallery has a very extensive offering of carved jade items in all price ranges. It also has a museum-quality exhibit showing jade art and history from around the world. The Left Bank Gallery showcases work by local artists, and its current main exhibit is a powerful collection of paintings of coal miners at work in the nearby coalmines. On a lighter note, a smaller exhibit had beautiful landscapes inspired by the local scenery.

The uncooperative weather continues to alternate between false hope raising patches of blue sky and downpour rain, so our walk along the river’s edge is cut short. We do take time to stop and admire a large statue of a stern-looking fisherman that guards the entrance to the river walk. The only information posted next to him says “In honor of those who help others.” Even though our morning in Greymouth begins to drag, I do wish we could spend a longer time in this area. The west coast of the South Island is rugged and sparsely populated, giving a frontier pioneer feel to our travels here. Hopefully someday we can return to see more of this part of New Zealand.

Our train ride is the same scenic route that we traveled previously, but this time once we leave the coast the sky clears and we can see mountaintops too. Just as we are pulling away from a stop along the way, I catch sight of a Kea standing on the end of the train station platform. Keas are rather large green parrots indigenous to New Zealand, known for their boldness. A recent news item told of one group of Keas developing high levels of lead in their bodies due to their hobby of chewing on the lead roofing nails used on old buildings. These now thankfully obsolete nails are soft and easy to pull out, and have a sweet flavor due to the lead. So far the birds haven’t shown any noticeable bad effects from this activity, but the roofs have suffered. Unfortunately, my husband did not think that this sighting was a good enough reason to pull the emergency train stop cord, so I had to make do with this brief first, and it seems, only glimpse of this variety of parrot.

Next on our travels is the hot springs.