Day Eight - Chasing a Shadow

Yesterday we deviated a bit north from Ray’s carefully delineated route to see the blowholes and pancake rocks at Punakaiki, but afternoon clouds and a flat sea lessened their dramatic impact. This morning’s brilliant sunshine and a half hour walk along Truman Track is a great start to the day. We climb down the path and steps and then over a narrow path to a small sandy beach dotted with massive truck sized rocks jutting out into the surf. The early morning sun is casting long fascinating shadows as Kris makes virgin footprints in the pristine sand and I turn this way and that directing her motions so as to get the most interesting photo. I am reminded of why models get paid so much. It is because they do not carp, talk back or complain about sand in their shoes or sun in their eyes. When you ask them to move three feet to the right, they actually move three feet to the right. Oh well, she’s good company when I do not have a camera in my hand. With high tide approaching now, we stop back at the blowholes hoping for a bit of drama but the sea is even flatter than yesterday and so seeing the pancake rocks in sunshine will have to suffice. Worse, no one has a clue as to the TrumanTrack naming history. My higher education and thirst for knowledge is thwarted once again.

Graymouth is the largest city on the west coast and the last stop for petrol but we cannot wait to leave as it is a sad little place, dirty, unkempt and barren. Several klicks down the road in Hopitika however, just the opposite is true. Much smaller and clean, it boasts a decent grocery store and a grand tabby cat staring us down from an open second floor window. We eat our lunch parked in front of a huge white edifice which just happens to be the only Catholic Church within 500 miles. The sign outside advertises one Mass on Saturday evening and one mass on Sunday morning. It is the largest building in the city. Wonder how many Bingo cards it took to pay for this and the sleekly modern rectory building next to it? Kris reminds me that religious or not, Karma will not forget my un-generous remarks especially after a delightful lunch of fresh Meat Pies.

Today is a pretty much a travel day and we finish the day at the Terrace Motel where the view from our room is of the resplendent Franz Josef Glacier a mile and a half further up the highway. Rosemary and Tim are the proprietors and seem overly glad to see us. Tim explains this time of the year is “rubbish” for their business and we are their only guests this winter month. And that’s one more than they had last winter. Rosemary is only too happy to speak with someone besides Tim, so she is effusive in her recommendations of what and where we must go. Especially be sure to tramp (A Kiwi way of saying walk) counterclockwise around Lake Matheson. When I ask why, she explains she doesn’t like to walk uphill. Like the dolt I am I say, “OK we’ll try it tomorrow.” Kris and I take a tramp around the town, all three blocks of it and she spots a Pukakoe bird next to the road. I only see a gray blob flitting off to a local tree. Kris is rapturous because they are rare. I am rapturous because Kris is rapturous. The flitting gray blob is rapturous because he’s alone in his tree now and away from tourists. He thought he was safe because it’s winter. He didn’t count on foolish Milwaukeeans desperately trying to prolong frostbite season here south of the equator. The long shadow of an early winter evening chases the sun glints from our glacier.