Got up at 6:00, on account of having to catch an early bus to Greymouth. Had some of Barry’s yummy mueslï, then got a lift from him to the bus stop.
Bus arrived a couple worried minutes late, and we hopped aboard. Little did we know, our ticket bought us not only transportation, but a guided tour of the west coast of NZ. Every once a while, our driver would turn on the mic and share some factoids at us, sounding very much like a Kiwi Garrison Keeler. (Not only did we learn about the region’s gold- and coal mining history, but we also learned that tannins in runoff from storms in beech forests dyes the rivers dark brown — as we saw — just like making tea.) We passed through several national forests, including one known for its exotic species - radiata pine and Douglas fir! (Jess was greatly perplexed that anyone would consider these “exotic” when their native forests contain unique species like rimu, kauri and totara.) Jess got a little queasy, but kept her composure. The bus stopped in several scenic spots, including Punakaiki, where there was time to walk out and see the pancake rocks and blowholes. The rocks along the coast were formed in layers and worn away by the tides, leaving formations that look like stacks of flapjacks. In some places, the ocean has worn straight through the rock, and when the surf crashes in, spray shoots up as though from a whale’s blowhole. It was amazing!
Arrived at Greymouth, which was much less grim than the guidebook claimed. Went to the Jade Boulder Gallery and failed to purchase any jade. Got a quick snack and some travel sick pills, and boarded the TranzAlpine train for Christchurch.
Many lovely views out the windows and from the open-air observation car, on which Jer spent much of the journey. Saw sheep, some very shaggy cows, and a pair of ostriches (or were they giant moas? You be the judge!). This journey also came with narration, only neither the content nor presentation were as good as on the bus. The Southern Alps were stunning, especially the snow-capped mountain peaks with glacierlets running down into tree-lined valleys. And there were rainbows! (This was about the third day we’d seen them.) The only bad thing was the diesel smoke that the engine was belching at us. (That bothered Jer more than Jess, who spent much of the trip gazing, wide-eyed, at the scenery from her seat.) The train took us over dizzying gorges on high, thin viaducts, with raging ice-fed rivers swirling below. It also carried us through long, dark tunnels under the Alps (but after riding through two tunnels in the open-air observation car, Jess re-ensconced herself in her seat). Despite being cold and wet (from alpine spring rains), Jer spent much of the trip as a happy shutterbug in the observation car.
We took a taxi from the train to our B&B, The Grange, in Christchurch. The proprietor was out, but had left us our keys, and returned as we were settling in. Nice place, big rooms, charming décor, free internet.
After checking in, we cast around for a place for dinner. Jer had been agitating to try NZ sushi for a while, and Jess relented. Decided to peer in Sala Sala and Joji, and eat at whichever looked better. Looked in Sala Sala, on the expensive side, but looked nice and popular. Walked to Joji, which looked nice, but was eerily empty. Decided to go back to Sala Sala. On the way, happened upon Mum’s, a Korean/sushi place. It looked clean and popular, and more tolerant of us planning the next day’s touristing, so we decided to give it a try. Bad idea. Jess’ bulgogi was merely tolerable (sauce was too sweet, and otherwise bland), and a couple bits of Jer’s sushi combo were actually pretty okay (the salmon futomaki and the shrimp nigiri were up to dirt-cheap New York standard). His whitefish was inoffensive, as was the tuna futomaki, which was made with water-packed chicken of the sea, or perhaps just chicken. The “tuna” also added a little whimsy to the meal. The salmon nigiri, though, was terrible. Not due to bad fish, but to inept preparation. There are certain bits of salmon that one should not serve, especially raw. They’re easy to identify, they’re brown, not orange. See, you’re supposed to cut them off, not hide them by putting the salmon on the rice brown side down. A pity, too, because the staff was quite friendly. Oh, well.
Picked up a couple candy bars to round out our meal, then back to the B&B, used the ‘net, went to bed.