Landscape Just Blue me Away
By Helen Frances
It is a searing hot, blue South Canterbury day and this is the first time I have been in the Mackenzie country. You hear stories about the rugged beauty and isolation but none have prepared me for the heat and stark clarity of the light and landscapes. Brown, furrowed hills heave into the blue sky looking for all like the petrified sides of the dirt-grey sheep that graze their flanks.
The hills frame turquoise lakes against skies that reflect the same blue, and willows grow around the banks, dipping their green branches restfully in the waters.
Aiming for Lake Tekapo along the N 83 from Oamaru, I pass through sleepy Kurow and on to Omarama. A silver glider spreads its long thin arms, totem-like, above the hills and others join it towed behind sturdy little aircraft. A glider competition has come to town. Down below tourist buses transport international visitors, and sheep pass by in cattle trucks on their way to the works.
Then there are more stark plains and hills and the roadside is decked out with wild flowers – purple, pink, blue and yellow lupin, statice, daisies, clover – the colours seem more intense than usual and the plants are tough to pick. You have to be tough to survive the extremes of climate in this country.
When the lakes and mountains of the Southern Alps emerge out of the blue the view is nothing short of an epiphany for a North Island city dweller. Twizel and Lake Pukaki pass by, salmon farms and people swimming, jet boating and skiing on the waterways.
By the time I reach Lake Tekapo I am ready for a long stop – two days camping among larches and silver birches at the lakeside Holiday Park, along with a mix of foreign tourists. In fact the Maori name Tekapo invites a rest – 'teka' means sleeping mat and 'po', night.
The heavenly blue of the lake is created by 'rock flour'. The 'flour’ is from rocks ground by glaciers on their way down to the lake. The rock flour is suspended in the lake water and radiates the blue colour when it interacts with sunlight.
Around the lake side people are swimming and paddling. A couple of minutes in the glacial water are refreshing, then chilling. I pass by the Church of the Good Shepherd and a bronze statue of a collie dog. The church is clad in warm, russet local stone and was built by settlers in 1935. The collie points its muzzle at the hills where its flesh forebears helped farmers graze their stock.
An evening meal of fresh, local non-fatty salmon with coriander sauce is delicious and there is a view of lake, mountains and trees from the restaurant.
Next day Mt John beckons from 1031 metres above sea level. It is a good climb to stretch the legs and the view from the top of surrounding lakes, plains, hills, and mountains is stupendous. The University of Canterbury operates observatories there. With their silver and white domes shining in the sun they could be moon eggs, cousins to the strange rock forms sculptured by the earth at Moeraki on the East Coast.
Three Japanese tourists come down the slope from the summit and as I hold the gate open one of them laughs and points up the hill saying “Café, café”. 'Does he know what he is saying?', I wonder. But yes, unexpectedly on the top of Mt John, in the blazing heat and wilderness is a caravan café serving the ubiquitous latte. The café, staffed by a barista, with a friend along for company, is courtesy of Earth and Sky, a company that runs day and night tours of Mt John. The night sky of Tekapo is exceptionally clear and the observatory telescopes powerful means for star-gazing.
On the loop track that circles the summit a Department of Conservation (DOC) reference panel gives information about the lakes and mountains. ‘A flight of stranded shorelines' describes the effects of sunken lakes with a poetic charm I haven’t met in DOC panels before.
Next day I see a different view of the country from a kayak on the lake. I could also have done an air safari, a horse trek, and gone hunting and fishing. Activities can be booked in the tiny village.
But above all, the time at Tekapo gave me the 'sleeping mat' I needed and visual memories I will never forget.
