3/10 – Tekapo to Dunedin 14-15 Feb 2025

Friday 14 Feb 2025

The day dawned bright and in slow time I got myself ready to face the ride to Oamaru. Before leaving I chatted to three lovely Scottish lassies; the wanted to know what my bike was called! When told she didn’t have a name they were horrified! So! Anyone with any thoughts on a name, please let me know.

The initial part of the ride was not too exciting. The landscape was flat and treeless, with tussocky grass. The hills in the background looked diminutive. The lack of features reminded me of some of the African roads I had travelled heading towards distant mountains, that never seemed to get any closer.

I had noted this déjà-vu phenomenon earlier, when I had thought the rolling grass covered hills reminded me of KwaZulu’s Midlands. 

I noticed an amusing signboard identifying the area I was crossing. A little later I came across a sentry post guarding the entrance(?) to the place, Irishman’s Creek. Considering that I didn’t have a paddle, I decided not to venture up.

Somewhere along this flat and straight section, I was cut up by a guy driving a bakkie, with a trailer and a bicycle on top. It wasn’t dramatic, just enough to warrant a couple of less than charitable thoughts. The overtaking manoeuvre was unnecessary at that point because around the upcoming curve was another long straight. His time was coming!  

I stopped at a scenic viewpoint by the shores of Lake Pukaki, and it was here that I first thought that much of NZ had been transformed into one giant tourist park. Every building/location linked to something more than 50 years old is now a historic site indicated by a brown road sign directing the multitude of tourists to the best selfie spot and the ubiquitous picnic tables. Everything even slightly unusual is worth going to see, according to this approach; included in this list of “must-sees” is a field full of boulders, (Elephant Rocks) and a beach littered with rocks! (Moeraki Boulders) Great for taking photos or entertaining the kids, according to the blurb in “Lonely Planet”; nothing lonely about these places though! Just about the only things not touted as attractions are the stock effluent disposal sites intermittently sited along the road. 

So here I was standing at Lake Pukaki with this spectacular view; the lake, with incredibly blue water, and the snowclad mountains in the distance, with Mt Cook featuring prominently. Impressive as the vista was, I thought that these Alps were not as large or as impressive as the French/Swiss Alps. I discovered that this was in fact correct; Mont Blanc rises to 4,809 metres, while Mt Cook only reaches 3,724 metres. Surprisingly, or maybe not, on the list of The Seven Summits – the highest peak on each continent that mountaineers travel to conquer – Mt Cook doesn’t feature. Instead Mt  Kosciuszko in Australia, at a paltry 2228m, is listed, making me wonder what continent I’m on now. 🤣

Undoubtedly, a factor in the diminished stature of the mountains was the distance between me and them.  New Zealand is not a small country; we usually see it on a map beside Australia, which is huge; however, if you put NZ next to Europe, its relative size is much clearer.

So what the vista lacked in height, it made up for in breadth. I thought that the view would actually be better from the end of the lake a few kilometres further along the road, and wondered why this site had been chosen; a few kilometres along the road, I was again proven correct. The view was  more spectacular … and there was another, larger, tourist friendly car park!

Remember the guy in the bakkie with the trailer? Well, shortly after this I saw karma in action. The police were holding up traffic, at an intersection on a bend, due to an accident, at what I learned was a well-recognised accident black spot. The pickup and trailer were upside down in the ditch. So obviously, once more he was in too much of a hurry and couldn’t wait the 10 or 15 seconds for a straight stretch. Fortunately no-one was badly hurt, but he surely spoiled someone else’s day in getting his come-uppance.

Further down the road, things were more interesting, with curves winding through low hills. The land was again featureless, but then around a bend, a lake surrounded by fir trees would transform the arid brown landscape into something much more pleasing to the eye. 

Have you ever noticed when driving, that some of the best views are seen in your rear view mirrors? This, I thought, may be due to the framing effect of the mirror, which helps focus your gaze. It also reminded me of some of the words from the song Lee Marvin sang in Paint Your Wagon, “I Was Born Under a Wandering Star”:

Wheels are made for rollin’
mules are made to pack.
I’ve never seen a sight that didn’t look better looking back. 
I was born under a wandrin’ star.

My resting place for the night was in Oamaru, with Fred, another Bunk-a-Biker. She had warned me she had some dogs, and indeed she did. She said six, but I only saw five – 4 bulldogs and a little pug. Fred was a little stressed as she had a deadline to finish altering a dress and was involved in dealing with the recent death of her good friend. Others might have put me off in these circumstances, so I showed my gratitude by cooking us dinner.

Oamaru had, according to my guide book, some interesting things to see. Chief amongst these was Steampunk HQ. If like me, you have no idea what Steampunk is, look here. This proved to be a fun way to spend half-an-hour, and an ingenious way to reuse. What is essentially junk, and create art.

Oamaru also has a Victorian quarter, with some quite impressive buildings.

From here I was heading to Dunedin, or so I thought. When I contacted Davy, I discovered that he was at his seaside residence in the Catlins, about an hour’s ride south of Dunedin. This lengthened my day’s journey somewhat, but as the weather was improving, this didn’t concern me much. 

Pounawea is a small seaside village at the confluence of the Catlin and Owaka Rivers,  housing nothing but a camp ground and houses. It is a quiet peaceful spot and I got there with no troubles. After a fine dinner and a walk along the shore, it was bedtime.