Late November 2015, the campervan was loaded with the essentials, that was – water, food and wine, so all complete and I was off. Through Murchison, Lewis Pass, past the Hanmer Springs turnoff and on the the Rakaia Gorge. Over the bridge here and then turned left into a camping ground for the night. I was just getting settled in when Val and Geoff turned up in their camper so all was well. That night the wind blew and blew. The next morning while walking to the toilets, anyone watching would think that person was drunk, such as the force of the wind it was hard to walk in a straight line. We didn’t leave early as we waited until the winds dropped a little as we were fearful of our camper-vans getting blown about too much while travelling on the road.

Church of the Good Shepherd.

Onwards through Geraldine to Tekapo and overnight at the Motor-van Association’s camp ground. A nice spot by Lake Tekapo too. Stopped by the Church of the Good Shepherd, which was surrounded by Asian tourists including a bride and groom getting their photo taken. Maybe they had just been married in the church? I mooched around the lakeside and spotted a rabbit. It wasn’t long before the eyes discovered more rabbits and then some more. There was even a rabbit’s carcass lying exposed which surprised me. The tourists were busy taking photos of themselves among the flowering lupin plants. These lupin flowers seem to be almost the main attraction which is a bit strange to me. I guess we shouldn’t tell them that they are a pest weed.

Lake Tekapo visitors and lupins.

In passing by Lake Pukaki I always seem to be looking around for the hotel that used to be there. I was told it was flooded when they raised the lake level along with a small island that was featured on the back of our old £10 notes. All gone. Well, at least the road has improved from the old dusty gravel one to a wide tar-sealed highway. A pity about all the tourist buses though. The buses roll into the carpark one after another and when the bus door opens people flow out to the toilets, take a couple of photos of the lake, and mountains, all disappear back into the bus then away they go. The car park can be bustling with activity for ten minutes and then, once the buses trundle off, all is quiet and still; maybe just a little breeze – just like it was before humans came. And then another two buses turned into the carpark.

Bendigo hotel remains.

Bendigo
We drove up to Bendigo one late afternoon. The rugged hills all around held gold and they must still do, but years ago the hills would have been crawling with miners. Remains of their huts, hotels and mine shafts are scattered about. The stone huts, or the remains of them appeared like one looking for rabbits, the more the eyes focused on the rocks around, the more one spotted an old hut. They seemed to be all over! Down little gullies, on ridges and there were some nearby where we parked for the night. Yes, there were rabbits too.

Bendigo remains.

We stayed the night and that evening I adjusted the roof vent on the campervan.Winding it more open, I could see some stars and I thought to myself that I had done a good job in cleaning the vent, then it dawned on me (even though it was in the evening) that the vent or the plastic part was no longer there! It had been blown off by the extremely strong winds somewhere near the Rakaia Gorge. Thank goodness for sunny weather! As darkness came, we could see away down below on the plains of Lindus/Clutha rivers, flashing lights and this puzzled us. It turned out to be lights on top of the giant irrigation machines, spreading the liquid gold of today on green pastures and grape vines – even through the night. Of interest was that two young Dunedin contractors had their first major project at Bendigo – their names were Jules Fulton and Bob Hogan and the name of their company was (& still is) Fulton and Hogan.

The next morning we drove a little way down to Logantown and parked just off the main street. The town was built on a flattish part of a ridge and we walked down the main street. It had five hotels, three stores, three butchers, a clothier, a billiard saloon, two restaurants and two blacksmiths. Walking down the street one hundred and fifty years ago, we would have had to push past miners and probably step over horse pooh but on this day, not a sound except for the whisper of a gentle breeze. And to step over the odd rabbit burrow.

Bendigo, Logantown remains.

The rock wall remains of an old building was crumbling slowly while nearby an old dray rested out its days. There was mounds of earth here and there while at one spot, it appeared that the earth had been formed to a sort of pond. Maybe it was to store rainwater? It’s a pity some of the old stone dwellings haven’t been restored. In particular the old dray seemed to cry out for help. Our history is just crumbling away and I wondered if it was a breeze that we felt or the breath of the past sighing but wanting to be remembered?

Looking down on the Nevis Valley.

The Nevis
On to a camping ground in Cromwell. The next day we drove through Bannockburn and up along the Nevis Road. It was a steep, a gravel road, and it was dusty. Luckily the wind swept the dust away from the road smartly. On the saddle at 1300m asl it was very windy and there were patches of snow higher which made it chilly too. We only went a little further to look down into the Nevis Valley and then turned around to head back. Interesting rock formations dotted the hills and some nearby had the remains of an old telephone line. Short steel posts were fixed somehow onto a suitably place rock pile with the wire strung along to the next rock pile. The wires had disappeared but some of the little posts still survived. We passed piles of rock, some looking like ancient castle ruins, some rabbits and thyme. While looking at the alpine plants we disturbed a number of skinks. One had hardy any time to even tell what colour they were as they moved away so fast.

Old water channel: Nevis.

One interesting feature was the water course. It was built many years ago for gold sluicing and I guess it is now used for irrigating pasture and vineyards. The source was high up in the mountains somewhere and the ‘drain’ cut and aligned around hill after hill all the way down towards Bannockburn. In the old days, drivers of the drays coming down the steep trail, dragged or placed rocks on the dray to help control the dray on the way down the steep trail. The rocks were dumped once on the valley floor so the enterprising farmer there made use of them all by building a sheep shed.