NZ Day 12 part 2 – The long, long drive to Fox

As soon as we got back to Methven we started our long, long journey to Fox Glacier, the other side of the mountain range and opposite coast. We were expecting a 5 and a half hour drive! This was possibly the most breathtaking but demanding journey I’ve ever taken. We really should have driven during the day to fully appreciate the scenery and we couldn’t help stop every half an hour to take photos. Highlights were: A jaw dropping gorge in Canterbury Plains; A shortcut away from the main highway (from Lake Coleridge to Lake Lyndon) which turned out to be a 24 km dust/grit track through the driest part of NZ vibrating the campervan and us to bits – slightly worrying; Arthur’s Pass was slap in the middle of the highest mountains I’ve ever seen with roads reaching extreme heights; The sunset shadows and last rays of the sun over the peaks; A mad descent reveals a rock shelter like tunnel and a massive industrial size drain pipe to protect the road but trying to avoid sight of the sheer 50m drop (as pictured) – scary stuff.

Night-time driving helped me concentrate on the road ahead but the silhouettes of mountains still amazed us with the clear night sky, full moon and stars. I couldn’t believe the free range cows were still eating – do they ever sleep or do they worry they’ll stave themselves?! We’ve encountered some infamous single track road bridges over deep valleys along the way but one on the West Coast was just crazy! Loads of signs to confuse us of its oncoming and waited for a huge truck to come from the other side. We then realised it was the same single track for the train as well. No one's gonna argue with a train.

We were also driving through prime kiwi country (the feathered kind) and it apparently very rare to see them in the wild but eagled eyed me saw the back end of one as it scarped over the road and another with Kerry as witness. Loads of dead and live possums were liming the road too to keep us interested.

The last leg of the journey was a killer on the neck and shoulders. We approached Franz Ferdinand, I mean Franz Josef looking forward to a short drive to Fox’s Glacier but it was another 25 km of twisty upward bastard-ness of roads again all at an average of 30mph. We finally found an open hotel (i.e. lights on), the Fox Glacier Hotel and went to the bar to check in. It was regulars night which looked like an old divorced loggers type of dive with a bloke constantly telling his mate to f**k off. The bar tender couldn’t really tell me the cost of the room but we were glad of the bed (after a second attempt). Our room had a nice flat screen telly but only two channels.