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Miles of wild open spaces. High desert plateaus extending from the horizons. Virgin
forests of giant prehistoric trees. Grassy plains. Jagged granite rising almost 2.5 miles
above the ocean. Glaciers descending into the jungle. Parrots and penguins in the same
rain forest. A wild ocean crashing into footprint-free beaches. Boom towns. Ghost towns.
No towns. Clapboard false fronts. Dusty main streets at high noon. Cowboys and sheepmen
trading stories at the general store and the post office. Country fairs where lumberjacks
saw and chop, shearers slice wool, and horsewomen debate Western vs. English, while all
covet the prize-winning pies. Wyoming? Montana? Alaska? Mexico? Argentina? Australia? Nope, pardner, it's New
Zealand: last frontier of the West and first frontier of the East, so far down under we
Yanks stage there before departing for Antarctica. Do you think the pioneer spirit of the
Wild West has gone the way of the moa? Nope—it's alive and well exactly where the moa
used to live.
In
Part One we gallop through the North Island,
stopping to gawk at prehistoric trees, Maori fishing villages, clapboard towns, artist
colonies, geothermal playgrounds, until we reached the San Francisco of the South Pacific,
Wellington, and the end of the island.
In
Part Two we fly
to the South Island and explore the water wonders and wine lands of Nelson and Marlborough
country, then head for bloomin’ Christchurch with a short stop to spot the whales off
the Kaikoura Coast. We take a great rail journey from coast to coast, crossing the
Southern Alps and arriving in wild Westland, where we see glaciers, go fishing, and visit
frontier towns along the Tasman Sea. Finally, we cross New Zealand’s highest road
pass, driving from the coast through the rain forest to the alpine heights and down into
the arid rain shadow of Wanaka in Central Otago on the eastern slope.
In
Part
Three we explore some of
New Zealand’s most famous, most majestic, most remote, and most touristed country,
home of the bungy, the kea, the jet boat, and the great treks. We go back a century in
Arrowtown, go extreme in Queenstown, and can't believe our eyes in Fiordland.
Finally,
Part Four
takes us in either of two directions back to civilization at Christchurch. One direction
leads to Scotland on the Pacific Coast. The other crosses the great New Zealand Outback by
way of the highest point in Australasia. Along the way we see penguins and albatross, lots
of rabbits and a few sheep. Come with us as our Wild Frontier itinerary leads back to
Christchurch by way of Dunedin and Mackenzie Country.
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THE LONG WAY TO KERIKERI |
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turns northeast, climbing to cross the watershed east to the Pacific side with glorious views and treacherous curves. |
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A few miles further north on Highway 1,
turn left (west) again for another, longer, New Zealand detour, this time on Route 12.
This route will again take you to the Tasman Sea coast, but it will turn inland through
deep mountain jungle, home of the great Kauri trees—the giant sequoias of New
Zealand. |
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12 miles away. Now, some 240 miles and 6.5 hours after leaving Auckland,
you arrive at the beautiful Bay of Islands. |
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COROMANDEL: SHANGRI-LA ON THE PACIFIC COAST |
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Driving to the Coromandel takes about 3 hours from Auckland, but is not
tiresome. The scenery is pretty tame until you reach the start of the
peninsula at the town of Thames. From here you have a choice of two
challenging and beautiful coastal drives, sometimes right at the waters
edge, sometimes climbing across steep headlands, sometimes barely one
lane wide. |
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for sailing vessels to refit their masts with tall, straight, strong kauri trees, then later a goal for gold prospectors, gum-diggers and gem seekers. |
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Its mineral and tree wealth pretty well played out by the turn of the 19th century, the peninsula returned to being an out-of-the-way corner of an out-of-the-way island nation in an out-of-the-way corner of the world. Since then, Coromandels apparent remoteness and gentle, temperate climate have made it a destination for people from around the world who are looking to get away from it all. It became especially popular with the New Zealand counter-culture during the sixties, seventies and eighties, a place with few gas stations and groceries but with clusters of art |
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The peninsula looks as sleepy as ever. Its few roads and difficult
geography inhibit any really significant invasion, and, if old-timers
are unhappy to see more visitors on the Coromandel, they hide their
distemper well behind a convincing friendly welcome and a sincere
eagerness to sell art and crafts to the newcomers. |
| The many hidden coves, inlets and beaches invite this exploration. Perhaps the |
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most interesting, if not the most remote or beautiful, is Hot Water Beach on the east shore of the peninsula about one-half hour southeast of Whitianga town. Here you can run in the cold Pacific surf and then warm up (if the tide is out) by digging a hole in the beach to let in natural hot springs to create your own natural hot tub. Golfers will find gem of a golf course north of Whitianga 30 minutes on another isolated cove on the east coast of Coromandel: a combination seaside and woodland course designed by New Zealand’s great golfer, Sir Bob Charles. |
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From the Coromandel south, the North Island broadens. The drive inland is uphill, but so
steadily that the elevation gain is not readily noticed—only the change in vegetation
is telltale. By the time you reach Rotorua the forests have become primarily conifers. The
air here smells of brimstone. |
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monster volcano that was the navel of the North Island. It’s 250 miles from Taupo to Wellington: about 5 hours on mostly empty two-lane roads. After Lake Taupo, Highway 1 leaves the central plateau by climbing the eastern shoulders of three distinct, but not extinct, volcanoes, each taller than the last: Tongariro, Ngauruhoe, and Ruapehu, tallest mountains on the North Island. Here are hiking trails, the best skiing on the North Island, and a wide variety of native plant life |
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in the Tongariro National Park,
designated a World Heritage site by UNESCO. |
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The trek is not unlike the crossing of the Sierras from the high deserts of the American Southwest. And the endpoint, cool, lush, hilly, often foggy Wellington is remarkably familiar, like a left-handed San Francisco at land's end.
Wellington's nearly
circular harbor |
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