I, Kea!

The geography of the South Island makes it near impossible to travel west to east (or the reverse) without crossing mountain ranges. In order to reach the east coast we had to tackle one of the passes that makes it possible to journey through the mountains..and so on an overcast morning, after a quick pit stop in the suitably named town of Greymouth, we headed towards Arthurs Pass. At 920 metres this high road crosses a precipitous mountain range after first following wide glacial river valleys. Despite not being able to see the tops of the mountains we could appreciate their grandeur. After crossing the Otira viaduct we stopped at a viewpoint called Death Corner...apparently there was one fatality at this point on the old road before the viaduct opened. 

After taking a few photos I spotted my first kea. The kea is the world's only alpine parrot and only found in the Southern Alps of New Zealand. They are green in colour and known to be both curious and highly intelligent. This one was perched on a rock but moments later another appeared and attacked a plastic bag!

We were to get closer views of a kea about an hour later..but before that we stopped just below the summit of Arthurs Pass to do a walk. A stiff climb opened up views of mountains cloaked in dense cloud but away to the east a hint of better weather also offered glimpses of snow still lying on the high summits.

The climb had made us thirsty so a mile or two down the road we stopped at Arthurs Pass village and made for the cafe/general store. As we walked up to the wooden veranda a couple of keas appeared and  were hopping around under the outdoor chairs and tables. 

Signs warned customers not to feed the kea. I ordered a milkshake for myself and a pot of tea for Mrs B. and, as it was warm, we deciďed to sit outside. Just after Mrs B.had poured some milk into her cup a kea hopped up onto our table. For a few seconds Mrs B. thought this was lovely...imagine having a wild parrot only 2 feet away from you. That was until it hopped forward and started drinking the milk she has just poured into her cup! Mrs B shrieked and this was effective...as the kea then moved on to the milk jug. I couldn't do much to help because a) I was holding onto my milkshake and b) laughing too much. Fortunately a waitress came and shooed it away and gave us an anti-kea gun...ie a plastic bottle full of water to squirt with! She asked us to return it because if left unattended the keas would puncture the bottles to render them useless. She also told us they could easily remove bootlaces from walking boots. Needless to say Mrs B. doesn't think keas are quite so cute..I think they are amazing birds.

Kea...waiting to pounce!

After sharing refreshments with a Kea we continued eastwards and this side of Arthurs Pass was bathed in sunshine. The views were amazing and we stopped several times to take in the surroundings.

We planned to freedom camp at a lake for the night so mid afternoon pulled into a nature reserve by the side of Lake Pearson. This was an idyllic spot and the lake was home to a very rare bird..the Southern Crested Grebe. There are estimated to be only 250 breeding pairs in existence..and one came out of the reeds and went past.

Southern Crested Grebe

In addition there were lots of friendly and inquisitive ducks..happy to get right up close to the camper, lie down and sleep close to us and I hand fed one using some bread we had to spare. From that point on the ducks followed me..even getting out of the water to waddle up to the van behind me when I'd wandered the down to the lake shore. 

Duck sitting at Lake Pearson

The next morning was gloriously crisp with bright sunshine. We had planned to drive through to Mount Somers but an interesting limestone rock formation caught our eye and we stopped for an impromptu walk. These rocks were called Kura Tawhiti and time and weather had eroded the limestone into strange and rather beautiful shapes, set on a ridge overlooking farmland and, beyond, high mountains. 

Mrs B. in marching mode

Morning coffee was taken in the small town of Springfield (no sign of Bart Simpson) and after another hour of driving we stopped for another walk, this time to take in the stunning blue waters in the Rakaia Gorge, climbing high above to get views of the bridge and river beyond.

Eventually we reached Mount Somers to find we had sole occupancy of the campsite! Mount Somers itself was a small village with a very old fashioned store that sold everything under the sun.

Mount Somers general store...

It was a peaceful place to stay for a night, relax and reflect on an unexpectedly interesting, varied and scenic crossing from west to east.