Still bubbling over with excitement after our Rock Wren encounter, we held an executive board meeting and it was decided we would strike out west, then head south down the coast, so we jumped in our covered wagon, pressing the go button we geeeeed up the horseeeees and westward we went.
Eventually, we were faced with a huge puddle of water known as the Tasman Sea. With no way to get around it, we turned left and scooted south with the rain once again hot on our heels.
We wanted to get to Haast that evening so with the rain catching us up and pelting down at times we didn’t stop much on the way, however, one place we did stop was at Whataroa, home of the famous kōtuku or White Heron colony for lunch.
I have made it my lifelong mission to search for the best feed of fishinchips in New Zealand I have come close to that perfect meal a few times and the shop at Whataroa is now in the top ten bestser-rist fishinchips in the country. That is according to the Boney Whitefoot scale and that counts.
For the uninitiated, this is a Kiwi feed of “Fishinchips”
A Kiwi icon, Fishinchips
Part 2 of the great southern Rock Wren trip
The Otira Rock Stars
Slowly my internal computer system booted up for the day. The synaptic connections in my brain were fizzling and spluttering, fading in and out but fired up once a solid connection was established.
Once upon a time I could leap out of bed and hit the floor running.
Nowadays it’s not even a controlled stagger, I’m more like a drunken dancer, lurching and weaving around the bedroom until my error correcting software runs its diagnostic program, ignores all my missing and damaged sectors on my hard drive and fools me into thinking I’m running just fine and dandy.
Coffee in hand I walk out on the balcony of the two-story Otira Hotel and I am confronted by the weather trying its best to behave its self, but sadly not having much success.
Drizzle and fog permeated the landscape, but no breeze, so two out of three ain’t bad according to Meatloaf.
Today was to be the big day out there yonder in them there mountains.
Just kilometres up the road lay a beautiful alpine Valley where two tiny little birds lived and we have to find them. I mean how hard could that be?
The very reason we, Steve and I have come to the South Island was to find and photograph the two little Rock Wrens that reportedly live up the Otira Stream.
We are excited to get going, so up to the Otira summit, we zoomed, to have breakfast among the clouds with the local Kea population, hoping that the cloud will lift and give us a great day.
The Kea is a smart bird but also gorgeous.
The New Zealand kea