This might sound a little familiar. Sitting in a hostel, gazing forlornly out of the window at astonishing quantities of driving rain. And much twiddling of thumbs and pacing up and down until the skies (maybe) clear.
I’m sure someone else was doing that yesterday morning (Tuesday). They may even have experienced a flicker of sympathy for any cyclists plugging away outside. I, however, was busy multi-tasking. I was out on the Beast, getting soaked to the skin and climbing hills.
The west coast of New Zealand is proving tricky on a bike. Towns are spread unevenly and without much between, so you sometimes need to ride a short repositioning day before a longer run. And the Southern Alps, which are a constant companion to the left of the road, have been getting bigger and bigger, which means the foothills are bigger too. Oh, and I might have mentioned that the weather is a little bit fickle. To say the least.
Yes, the Southern Alps are always there, but you only get to see them occasionally. Usually (at least with me seeming to attract moisture from the air wherever I go in NZ), they’re either hiding their heads in low cloud, or are completely obscured by heavy rain. They’re always there, but you definitely wouldn’t always know.
When you can see it, the scenery is spectacular. As I’ve meandered south into glacier country, the sun has sometimes bothered to appear, and the snow-capped peaks, lakes and icy rivers are absolutely beautiful. And the sun is strong when it comes out. I’ve actually had to dig out the sunscreen a couple of times, which must be an improvement, mustn’t it? Until you look at the forecast for the rest of the week…
I got to Franz Josef Glacier on Monday. This is both true and slightly misleading, as I only got to the town of Franz Josef Glacier. Not quite to Franz Josef Glacier itself. Hope that’s all clear enough? And then I got soaked on the short, but hilly, run to Fox Glacier yesterday (again, that’s Fox Glacier, not Fox Glacier, but then I guess you’ve worked that out already).
This morning (Wednesday), and a now all-too-familiar scene repeated itself. I was, once again, the one in the hostel, watching the hills disappear and reappear between sheets of torrential rain. Given that the nearest hill is only half a kilometre away, it takes some fairly serious precipitation to make it vanish. I was set to push on to Haast today, which is a long day’s ride, and then over the Alps tomorrow to, hopefully, better weather. But the rain’s not ready to let me go just yet.
That may be just as well. It would have been a shame to leave glacier country without seeing a glacier. And as the rain became a little more showery around lunchtime, I commandeered a Swede’s car (OK, OK, he was going anyway, and offered me a lift), and we drove up to have a look.
So, in theory, I should hit the westernmost end of the Kiwi leg of my trip tomorrow, before cutting over the mountains (sounds easy, right?), and then swinging north toward Christchurch and my flight to Australia. Don’t be too surprised if nothing of the sort happens, though.
I’m also pretty determined that my next post won’t have anything negative to say about the weather. Don’t be too surprised if that’s not the case either…