Not So Grim Down South

The patter of rain on the roof that accompanied our slipping into sleep yesterday evening continued and increased in intensity throughout the night. A staggering volume of water fell continuously from the sky, causing K at one point to check that Lake Mahinapura - only a couple of hundred metres away - wasn't about to flood and wash away the van. It wasn't and didn't. However, the prospect of driving into the car wash-like downpour towards Franz Josef glacier, in the hope that the weather was clear enough to explore the natural phenomenon there, was unappealing.

As Kiwi as Pic's and Vogel's

Fortunately, soon after breakfast the rain stopped and the clouds cleared, such that we were inspired to move on. We swapped tales of the night with the far worse-off campers in tents, who feared their canvas would give way, and packed up the van. Our onward journey took us farther down the rugged West Coast on the SH6.

There is little in the way of settlements along this stretch of the South Island - townships have sprung up around such natural phenomena as the glaciers that have been inexorably carving up the west coast for centuries.

The first of the glaciers at which we arrived, travelling north to south, was Franz Josef, named by its discoverer, Julius von Haast, after the emperor of Austro-Hungary. I had little idea how we should approach the glacier, having heard that it was possible to fly over it in a helicopter, or to climb up it with ice picks and snow boots.

Walk to Franz Josef glacier

Fortunately, the access road made it easy to approach the retreating face of the glacier by car and make the rest of the journey by foot across a rocky landscape that wouldn't look out of place on the moon, were it not for the rushing torrents of muddy water from the melting ice pushing past on their way to the Tasman Sea.

Blue glacial ice

The blue ice that forms on top of the mountains from compacted snowfall is retreating inland at an astonishing rate and, in so doing, has carved a wide crevasse in the landscape.

Franz Josef glacier reflected in Peter's Pool

The walk to the face of the ice was not at all arduous, and in the surprising heat of the day it was hard to see how the ice had not melted away completely. Nevertheless, we decided to take a load off at the thermal hot pools in the township of Franz Josef. These offered waters of three different temperatures up to 40°C (my favourite) and a chance to unwind from the windy driving.

Brooding Fox glacier

Moving onwards and southwards, we came shortly to Fox glacier, named after a New Zealand premier. This glacier, though similar in appearance, offered a very different approach, through kilometre-high schist rock faces on either side.

Beating a retreat from Fox glacier

The sun was low in the sky at this point, so we beat a hasty retreat from the glacier to our overnight stopover point only 20km away on Gillespie's Beach. Albeit close in distance, the beach was at the end of an interminable winding gravel path, which eventually gave onto an unprepossessing car park. Beyond the car park, however, was a stony beach and a roiling brown sea that mirrored the eddying currents of murky water emitted into it from the glaciers.

Glowering west coast sea

Shortly after arriving, the light went out, and we were left putting together dinner by candle- and torchlight, while battling with the biting sandflies that infest areas such as this.

I had foolishly offered to make French onion soup, so I set about making croutons topped with Camembert, and caramelising onions. Meanwhile, we ate the other half of the smoked cheese and drank red wine until the soup was ready, earning much respect from the hypothetical French camper.