Good thing he was treated to a long beach walk the day before

I’m picked up by John, my 82 year old friend from a coffee group I joined, and his wife Jill. They’ve arrived in John’s MG which must mean I’m in the good books as it rarely leaves his garage where it sits under a dust cover and remains looking pristine as the day it left the showroom floor.

John has recently recovered from a stroke, not his first, and so I remain vigilant from the rear in readiness to reach through and take the wheel. He’s in fine form though and we reach Palmerston North without incident. My Air NZ app buzzes as we head though town, informing me that my flight has been delayed for 25 mins. Rather than pay the hefty parking fees and marked up food at the airport we adjourn to John’s favourite cafe, Rumours, and while away the time with a coffee and pie.

After being deposited in the airport I spend half an hour doing several laps of both stories and am very familiar with the contents of both cafe and small gift shop by the time my flights called.

It’s a very blustery day and one could be forgive for thinking we were taking off from Wellington rather than Palmerston. It’s a packed flight without a spare seat and I’m seated next to a harassed mother who’s 3 children and husband are parked in the seats in front. Rather like a backseat driver she points, smiles, growls and directs from the rear whilst her inneffectual and largely disinterested husband looks on, seemingly confused if these are really his kids yelling at each other and throwing wee tantrums. I retreat to my noise cancelling headphones and am satisfied when they prove largely successful in blocking out the noise … of not the flying coulourinf pencils and lollies.

Those beautiful Sourhern Rivers

It’s only just over an hour and my patience endures whilst my respect for mothers rises several levels. Was I ever that tiresome to look after ?, possibly, but I don’t recall it. I’m sure I was an angel and mum is no longer here to correct that assumption.

I’m met at the airport by an old school friend from many years back (we won’t say just how many). Ray, my Chinese friend, moved down here for university, met his future wife, had kids and has been here ever since. He works in IT and is a very handy person to know when it comes to finding sites that stream tv, movies and sport for free. Like all of my close friends, he’s easy going, unfazed, humorous and generous to a fault. It’s a lovely feeling to just fall back into a relaxed friendship without any unease and just pick up from where it last left off.

We catch up over a coffee at his home, where I’m staying overnight on the way in and out, before taking his crazy dog Yuki for a walk at the delightful Hagley Park which is only moments around the corner from his home. It’s nice to get 6km in as I usually walk 10km or more a day and thought I’d miss out altogether today. Yuki is one crazy dog with acceleration that would leave Rafa on the start line. She makes friends with every dog in a 2km radius and still has energy to burn

On our return, Rays wife Rosella and daughter have arrived home and decide on going out to a bbq restaurant names ’Beers’ for dinner. Yuki joins us as its pet friendly and I’m can’t help what a disaster this would be if it were Rafa eyeing up steaks, ribs and sausages. Yuki, however, is surprising well behaved and for the most part lies quietly under the table. We are later grateful for her presence as we opt for the buffet option where plates are continually served, but only as each previous plate is emptied. We quickly devise a way to empty the less enjoyable plates and Yuki is suitably impressed with the arrangement. Handfuls of sausage, pork belly, lamb and brisket are surreptitiously passed below the table once we had taken our fill. The food is nice without being outstanding, some of it a little greasy and the loaded fries just a little too far when they arrive at the end of a plethora of meat.

We return home and I enjoy a cup of Chinese tea that help cut a path through my overfull tummy. We chat away until midnight until I retire to my room, their son Thomas is away on a soccer scholarship in the states and I’m given his room complete with ensuite.

My carriage awaits

An entire table to myself

The checkin is smooth and profession with many smiling staff and an eagerness to assist. It’s all very professional and welcoming and I’d expect nothing less given the cost of the fully catered option.

Safety instructions are given ala airlines and it’s basically a case of, if we crash and you’re still able to … then jump off. I must say it’s quite liberating to be travelling without the confinement of a seatbelt.

We are only just away when I’m presented with a lovely hot towel and my order taken for a piping hot mocha which arrives even before the towel has lost temperature. Amazing how something as small as a heated towel can increase one’s overall mood so much and leave you feeling so fresh and alive. The coffee is good, very good infact, although they are so liberal with the chocolate on top that I change my next order to a cappuccino and it still could be called a mocha.

The table pushes down flat and a convenient phone charger is just below the seat, free wifi is available and I’m one happy camper as food keeps appearing as quickly as drinks. Why oh why did I eat anything, let alone an entire cow last night. My carriage is 3/4 empty and I’m grateful for the quiet relaxed atmosphere.

From literally passing through ordinary everyday kiwis backyards containing everything from rusty busses to chained up dogs we gradually move through to the open fields of the Canterbury plains with the impressive mountain range slathered with fresh gleaming snow.

Though by no means a bullet train, we clip along the rails at a fairly decent rate and either the soundproofing is excellent or it’s just a very quiet train.

My fellow compartment occupants are a majority of Asian, replete with their obligatory dozen cameras per person, though they seem more intent on their phone screens than any passing scenery on offer. The only others are a lovely Australian couple from Dubbo on their first trip to NZ and have extended their journey from just visiting their daughter who now resides in Auckland to travelling through the entire country. They are typically down to earth Aussies and we share a great conversation along with a few laughs. I don’t even hold it against them when they inform me they are roosters fans in the NRL.

Our personal maître d informs us that the complimentary ‘Great Journeys’ phone app is well worth while and she is quite correct when we avail ourselves of the onboard wifi to download it Kudos to those who \240designed and implemented it as it’s indeed fantastic. It not only notifies you of each upcoming sight but gives detailed descriptions of the areas you are passing with the history of each also covered.. There is also a live map of where you are at any given moment and you can watch yourself move along the track in real time.

First stop is Rolleston and given the emptiness of my carriage, I’m expecting an influx of passengers. Even the app pops up with a notification of ‘please welcome all new passengers’. However it’s a very brief stop and my personal greetings aren’t required as not one person joins our party.

The carriage is not always smooth with an odd jerk or lurch and I feel somewhat cruel as I find I find myself struggling to contain a laugh as my Asian friend diagonally opposite inadvertently sloshes the jug of tea down his partners front as he attempted to pour her a cup during a particularly sudden lurch. Though I don’t understand the language, her tone leaves the meaning quite clear as she told him her thoughts. I will make a point of inserting a public notice here for any gentlemen contemplating taking the journey and willing to imbibe coffees, beers and wines. At certain stages you are bound to require the convenience at the back of each compartment and I highly recommend both selecting a long stretch of straight track and planting one’s feet solidly before commencing. For the ladies who obviously (I hope) remain seated for such activities … as you were.

As we approach Darfield the app once again encourages me to welcome aboard all new passengers and by the time it repeats the suggestion in Springfield, I’m fairly confident that our total contingent are already onboard. I’m proven correct a short time later as the train barely rolls to a stop before gathering pace and speeding onward.

Would love to be a fly on the wall for anyone who attempts this onboard

As we head toward the snow covered Southern Alps spread gloriously before us, you cannot help but be impressed \240at their majesty. I find myself extremely grateful for the clear blue skies allowing such an unimpeded view. It’s rather a smug feeling when we roll through train crossings with traffic impatiently waiting for us to pass. It’s almost as if life is balancing itself up for the times when it’s been me cursing the jangle of bells and lowered barrier arms as a seemingly endless array of carriages blurs past.

The onboard coffee is good and strong, if not a little smothered in chocolate. I gainfully keep the lovely waitstaff employee tooing and froing with piping hot cups interspersed with the odd cold drink. I mean $450 1 way … let’s not be shy. The first food offered up is a delightful Danish pastry still hot, crisp and with a lovely buttery flavour.

Never shy with the chocky onboard

Best danish I’ve ever had

The food rarely stops from then on and by the time we roll into Arthur’s Pass and are allowed out onto the platform to stretch the legs and freshen up, I’m feeling like Humpty Dumpty. Whilst a couple of locomotives are being added to the train to give us some oomph to climb up a steep gradient through a tunnel, I waddle up and down the platform in a vain attempt at making room for the next onslaught of food.

By now the fantastic weather I was so grateful for earlier has been well and truly been left behind on the Canterbury Plains. I disembark onto Arthur’s Pass platform into low cloud and what feels like a light sleet bit is probably just a cold drizzly rain. I think this must be my 4th time passing through Arthur’s Pass in one form or another and I’m yet to witness any blue sky let alone the sun here. They must be a hardy lot that choose to make a life here, personally, I’d be lucky to see out a week.

Breakfast, not long after the danish

Mains, just past Arthur’s Pass

Yummy Dessert which took some forcing in

For those wondering, the right hand side in direction of travel towards Greymouth and the left hand side on the way back to Christchurch are the best seats for viewing purposes. There is also a viewing carriage which can double as an endurance test in a day like today. I was attired in my usual shorts and shirt and although I’d also allowed a jacket, certainly woke up in a hurry each time I ventured out. It’s certainly worth it though as you feel quite alive with the extra noise and everything whizzing by.

Whilst the scenery is mainly breathtaking, I cannot help but feel a mild irritation towards my Scottish forefathers for introducing the pervading gorse bushes that run rampant up the hillsides. It’s a blight on an otherwise magnificent vista.

Moana

Moana

Without wanting to offend any Greymouthians that may read this, arriving in said town is a little underwhelming after the journey. Whether it’s the time to year or the current economic climate, everything feels a little bleak even though the skies are once again blue overhead. There doesn’t seem to be many smiles from the locals and many shops seem closed up for good. It gives the feeling of a town just hanging on. I collect my case and walk through the town to pick up my rental car, $45 a day from Rad, which I’m told by the delightful chao who serves me stands for ’rent a dent’ in handed the keys to a hybrid Toyota Aqua replete with a dent in the right rear, which I only notice later that evening back at the hotel. I take a photo just incase they try to point the finger. It’s not a terrible car for $45/ day but let’s be perfectly clear …. I wouldn’t buy one.