We stopped here along the way … I think it’s Thun |
Yes, that dirty snow is indeed Fox Glacier. |
I did have a driver reserved to take me out to the glacier observation point. Murray has been driving for quite a while, I think, if the potent cigarette smoke/body odor combination in his van is any indication. Joe, the coach driver, had pointed out Murray where he was parked by the curb. I popped my head into the van, giving him a start, I think, and informed him that I was his four o’clock date. He said he’d be at the hostel to pick me up.
· Whatarea, a widening in the road called a town. Public toilets, a convenience store with some sort of chocolate chip and herb muffin, a farm supply, and a gallery that was voted best in New Zealand. It is in possession of 4,000-year-old sperm whale bones and incredible jewelry carved by Maori. Steve praised the older couple who purchased earrings as being wise to buy there where they were assured of quality and a fair price.
The Bushmans’ Centre (a steal at $1.8 million if you’re interested in buying) sports a giant sandfly and a sign on the door: “If you can’t laugh, you’re in the wrong place.” The entire place is about game, and not Monopoly. Heads on the walls, deer in an enclosure out back, ‘possum pie on the menu. But the Australian Brushtail Possum is not the same as our North American large rat-looking possum. In fact, it was introduced to New Zealand in 1837 to establish a fur trade, with disastrous results. There are no predators in NZ. None. So the varmints have over-run the islands. You can’t order a ‘possum pie, either, because New Zealand government requires restaurants to purchase ‘possum meat only from a government approved source. Such a source does not exist. The edict is in place because of the wide-spread aerial poisoning campaign to rid the country of the scourge that destroys forest habitat and eats bird eggs. Brief Digression: New Zealand has NO indigenous mammals. None. Most native birds are flightless (the kiwi, for instance) so are defenseless. The Brits brought over bunnies, because they’d be good food and fun to chase on their pretty horses; they also brought deer, which were fun to chase, too. But although chased, many deer and bunnies got away, so they proceeded to reproduce like, well, bunnies, and eat away at the bird’s habitat. Solution: bring stoats and weasels to take care of the rabbits. When the stoats and weasels arrived they reached the consensus: why eat a rabbit that runs away when you can get a bird that’s never seen a predator? The kiwi, NZ’s national bird, is endangered now.
· We stopped to pick up a 94-year-old man who raises goats, and were warned that he might smell a little bit like his cloven-hooved friends. He did. A little old thing, barely bent, and still had a frizz of white hair. His sweater had goat hair woven through it. Immediately, the woman across the aisle from me placed a small package in the seat next to her. “Where is he going to sit? He might sit by me!” she hissed. As it turned out, he did the next best thing and sat right in front of her. I have smelled goats before and found his odor pungent, but not as offensive as, say, the bouquet of a co-ed hostel dorm room. He got off the bus at the next stop, and the odor dissipated soon enough, but not before the same woman could confide that she “could smell that man.” I pointed out that at 94, he was doing great to be catching a bus anywhere, and when I’m 90 and raising goats, I hope to sit in front of a person just like her.
· A stop in Hakitika and the Jade Factory, where carvers can be observed from a platform outside their glass-enclosed workshop. Since we arrived around lunch time, only one was at his post. Instead, I walked into a store called The Possum People and chatted with a woman about the ‘possums. As I mentioned above, the possum in New Zealand is not the same as our North American over-sized rat ‘possum. These guys look like an Ewok crossed with a raccoon. Problem is, they are munching their way through the two islands and destroying the habitat of native wildlife. They also spread bovine tuberculosis. She said that about 1 million are trapped each year for the fur trade, and 2 to 3 million are killed with 1080 poison, mostly in remote parts of islands. The government insists that there are around 70 million in the country, but the woman scoffed: “If that was the case we’d be tripping over them in the street.” While the fur trade decreased in the 1980s, due mostly to PETA folks spattering fake blood on fur coats, commercial value has recovered with China being the biggest buyer. I was tempted to buy a pair of gloves or a hat, but then remembered that I live in Death Valley with golf courses. Instead, I hurried over to a pharmacy and spent $11.20 for 24 ibuprofen tablets in an effort to reduce the size of my throat acorn.
· New Zealand’s natural resources: Steve said that New Zealand is really a gold nugget with a little dirt thrown over it. Talk about opening up the National Reserves for mining has been met with a resounding “NO!” from the people, so the government has done the next best thing and started to build oil platforms off the South Island shore. Steve said that NZ has the second largest oil reserves in the world and has agreed with Saudi Arabia to cap the wells for 150 years to keep the price of oil inflated. When the wells are in production, they will be using the frakking method of extraction. I said a prayer for the marine life in the area.
View from my room at the YHA Hostel in Greymouth. |
When I walked into the Greymouth YHA Hostel, I smelled … nothing. Air. Fresh air. No cleaning agents, air fresheners, backpackers, food cooking … nothing. Come to find out that the hostel is cleaned with only three natural ingredients – coconut oil, lime and orange. The windows were open. A cool breeze. Faint scent of the sea. And although I was booked into a four-bed dorm, there was only one other person and only one very neat suitcase sat at the end of one bunk. Downstairs, a common room had comfortable furniture arranged around a fire place. The sun porch was set up as a TV room with a selection of (free!) DVDs. In the kitchen, no fewer than five bins were arranged against the wall for recycling plastics, paper, shopping bags, landfill waste and compost. The kitchen was spotless. I was sure to tell the girl at the check-in how nice that was.
Downtown Greymouth is not extensive, and is typical of most small towns. A few cafes, bars, outdoor equipment outfitters, hotels down by the train station, a couple galleries, and a book store. More bakeries that concoct chocolate chip and fruit muffins. A couple notable stops: Jade Boulder Gallery, which really does have a jade boulder inside. The artist, Ian Boustridge, started getting interested in jade when he was only a kid, and has been carving since 1976. His work is inspired by pre-Columbian, Asian and Maori art, and his work is widely collected. Although the items at the gallery were a little bit out of my current price range, the work was stunning. Unfortunately (but not surprisingly) photography was prohibited. The Left Bank Art Gallery housed in the restored New Zealand Bank building also has a stunning collection of jade by artists of national/international repute. In New Zealand, jade is a stone of particular importance to the Maori (indigenous) culture, used for knives and ornaments for thousands of years.