making it down the east coast highway
to Kaikoura for the night, there was a
risk I’d be turned around. Between
when a 2016 earthquake shook the
area and January 2018, the highway
was closed as the shaking had caused
landslides, collapses, and significant
damage to the roadways. With the
risk of a closure blocking the path not
many people were headed south which
allowed me to make excellent time.
As the construction crews packed up
to head home and the rehabilitation
works paused overnight, I was lucky
enough to be the last one the security
teams let through the gates.
While the road itself was battered
and bruised; muddied and watered;
and very much a work in progress
with almost as much dirt and gravel as
clear pavement, the scenery of cliffs
on the right and ocean on the left while
sunset glowed around was incredible.
And I had it all to myself. It was one of
those rides I’ll remember forever.
The next morning was a perfect
lazy start to an incredible day. I woke
up to a brilliantly sunny morning and
instead of immediately hitting the
road, I found some breakfast and an
iced coffee and sat on the beach to
read my book. Somehow two or three
hours must have passed because my
caffeine, food, and water were long
gone, my book was done, and my face
was beginning to turn pink before I
clued into the time. Thankfully it was
still early enough to go explore so
I went for a walk doing a lap across
the ridgeline south of town, down a
slope entirely not intended for flip
flops (or jandals as the crazy kiwi’s
call them or thongs as we Australians
call them) and back through the lo-
cal seal colony. While it was incred-
ible seeing all the wildlife including
the sea-dogs basking in the sun, I
couldn’t help but laugh at the fact this
is a massive tourist attraction as at
home the seal dogs on the wharfs of
the local marinas, sometimes stacked
on the docks like cooked sausages at
TRAVERSE 91
a barbecue causing nothing but stink
and damage.
After meandering in the ever in-
creasing heat back to Robin (the dash
showed 36C when I turned the key), I
headed off down through the Waipa-
ra Valley doing my best not to stop for
a sample at each of the many winer-
ies beckoning. But I’m only human
and eventually the allure became too
much.
Using the excuse that I needed a gift
for the relatives I was staying with in
Christchurch, I stopped at the Waipa-
ra Hills winery. While I’ve found that
some wineries, especially the ones
with expensive sophisticated tasting
rooms like this one, have a somewhat
elitist attitude and wouldn’t put the
effort into a dirty, sweaty, motorbike
gear wearing traveller, this was en-
tirely different. The wonderful staff
spent over an hour chit chatting with
me, explaining the differences be-
tween their wines and wines from
my area, educating me on what wine