The Alexandra Bridge, like the clock on the hill, is a bit of an icon. While the newer version of the bridge is the one most people are familiar with, it’s the remains of the previous bridge that is the real monument. When it was built in 1882, the Alexandra Bridge was one of the country’s most glorious structures and a true feat of engineering. These days, the surviving piers and towers are a testament to its wonderful construction, having withstood the force of the Clutha river for more than 140 years.
In Wellington, with some unexpected time on my hands I decided to go for a bit of an exploration. Since my hire car wasn’t due back at the airport till mid afternoon and the day was fine, I filled the next few hours by going for a drive. My first stop was a visit to Mount Victoria, part of the Wellington Town Belt. Formed in 1841 by the colonial New Zealand Company, the land was put aside for a public recreation ground to be created for the inhabitants of Wellington. At the top of the Mount Victoria Town Belt is a 360 degree view of the city which really is rather impressive. For those that are feeling energetic, walking tracks lead from the harbour on Oriental Parade up to the lookout; however, if you’re wanting an easier option like I was, you can simply drive.
While staying in Glenorchy, I decided to go on a day trip beyond the head of Lake Wakatipu towards the Dart River. The main reason for my trip was simple. I wanted to be able to say ‘I’ve been to Paradise’ and for those that don’t know, yes there really is a place in Aotearoa called that. It’s actually more of an area than a specific spot with a few farms scattered around near the Dart River which flows from the Southern Alps into the northern end of Lake Wakatipu near Glenorchy.
So, heading for Paradise, I left Glenorchy on the Glenorchy-Paradise Road, crossed the Rees River and passed places called Earnslaw and Diamond Lake before arriving in Paradise. Curious about what was further along the road, I continued, eventually stopping at a place called Dan’s Paddock for a wander around a stretch of the legs. Sometime later, satisfied with my day’s efforts, I turned the car around and headed back to Glenorchy.
Driving somewhere between Middlemarch and Hyde, while listening to a podcast about New Zealand history, for some reason I recalled the story of Captain Frederick Burwell and the Southland Hussars. Formed in the 1860’s in response to fears of a Russian invasion, the cavalry corps were intent upon defending the Otago-Southland coast. At the time, there were many volunteer militias throughout New Zealand, so it wasn’t unusual for settlers to sign up to volunteer groups.
So, in 1885, when an April Review was held in Queenstown, up to 258 men from surrounding areas were due to gather. In Kingston, Captain Frederick Burwell needed to take his 30 men from the end of Lake Wakatipu up to the Review assembly point in Queenstown. However, instead of going via boat, for some reason he decided to travel overland. A journey that took him and his men via the notorious Devils Staircase. Travelling on horseback, they negotiated their way over small, narrow and rugged tracks next to sheer vertical drops before facing near perpendicular rock faces in spots over 1000 feet high. Once they reached the summit, a magnificent view of the lake came into view. Having passed the famous Staircase, the Kawarau River was crossed by punt, arriving in Queenstown late in the afternoon where Captain Burwell and his men were warmly greeted, having successfully completed an arduous 40 mile journey. Just why Captain Burwell opted for the deadly overland trip via the Devils Staircase instead of the easier ferry trip was never fully explained.
On a whim, I stopped at Clarks Mill. I was on my way to Christchurch and when the historic mill came into view, some 15 kilometres south of Oamaru, for no particular reason I pulled the car over and made the decision to have a look around. Unfortunately, the mill was closed and all locked up so I was forced to be content with wandering around the grounds. However, I was able to find out that the milling of wheat and flour was a key component of the early North Otago economy and Clarks Mill was an important part of that production. Opened in 1867 for the New Zealand and Australia Land Company, Clarks Mill was originally equipped with grinding stones powered by a water wheel. Since the mill was in a rather awkward location beside a bend of the Kakanui River, it required the construction of a long water race to power it.
As I stood on the dock, the crisp morning air filled my lungs and the beauty of Queenstown surrounded me. The TSS Earnslaw, an iconic steamship affectionately known as the “Lady of the Lake,” was moored majestically against the tranquil waters of Lake Wakatipu. Its vintage charm, accentuated by the bright red funnel and classic white hull, transported me back in time.
The surrounding mountains were nothing short of breathtaking. Snow-capped peaks of the Remarkables range loomed in the distance, their rugged beauty softened by light morning mist. The sun, still low in the sky, cast a golden glow, creating a picturesque contrast with the deep blue waters of the lake.
It was then that I realised that I had never actually been on the historic ship, maybe this is something I should change I thought to myself as I moved along the dock.
Tunnels are amazing. Whenever I see one, I can never walk or drive past without stopping to go inside to investigate. On this occasion, I was heading for Balclutha having recently left the small town of Owaka. I had spent the day walking the Catlins River Track near Tawanui in the Owaka Valley and by the time I arrived back at my car, it was mid afternoon. Leaving Tawanui, I arrived in Owaka where I stopped for a bite to eat before continuing on to Tunnel Hill, the location of a disused 250 m long railway tunnel. Built between 1879 and 1915, the Catlins River Branch railway formed part of New Zealand’s national rail network which was constructed to provide access to the local timber industries. The tunnel was finished in 1896.
Wandering around the Victorian Heritage precinct of Oamaru, I had a delightful time exploring all the alleyways that connect the surrounding area. They were filled with doors that were clearly delivery entrances and the usual assortment of rubbish bins and other bits and pieces you might find in an alleyway next to a busy shopping area. Along one passageway that ran between two historic buildings I came across a ramp and door that looked slightly different than all the rest. The sign on the door said, Jam Night: Members, Guests. The sign above said ‘The Penguin Club.’ It was one of those places that appeared to be still in use, but then again it was hard to tell. Intrigued, I made a note and continued on exploring the heritage buildings.
Later, I read that the Penguin Entertainers Club started in 1990. Located in the annex of an old grain store, the space was made available for Oamaru musicians to practise, have a few drinks and mix with local talent and now, almost 35 years later the place is still going.
So, usually I’m pretty good at remembering where and when I was when I took a photo. It’s not often I can’t pinpoint an exact location, however this is one of those times. What I can tell you is that I was driving to Christchurch and somewhere beyond Timaru I stopped to stretch my legs. Spotting a walking track, I followed it and found myself under a bridge, with both railway tracks and a river next to me. It was fairly obvious from the surroundings that the river had recently flooded. This of course meant that I had to spend a lot of time avoiding puddles, something I wasn’t too successful at.
On a lovely bright winter’s morning, I was walking along the Karetai Track between Karetai Road and Smaills Beach when I came across a dozen or so empty beer bottles scattered in the long grass near a stone wall, next to the path. I’m sorry, but this is a scene we must examine for a moment. First of all, not only had they left the bottles but also the box, and judging by its condition it couldn’t have been sitting there more than a few days. The very least the owners might have done is put them back in the box! Secondly, to get the beer to its current location, it needed to be carried from the car park, a distance of some 50 metres. Either that or they lugged the thing up a very steep hill from the beach, and this seemed unlikely. If they (whoever they are?) went to all the trouble of carrying the beer to my present spot, I would have thought they could have taken it away with them. So, my question is this. What kind of person carries a box of beer, 50 metres along a public walking track, scatters all the empties and their rubbish round and simply disappears. Clearly my expectations of some sections of society are far too high!
Having surveyed the scene, and it was a lovely spot to take in the view, I decided there was only one course of action available. I walked back to my car, collected a reusable shopping bag and proceeded to gather up all the empty bottles and took them with me. Leaving the path a little tidier for the next person.
The beach was still and calm as I looked out over the ocean. The sky was an exquisite blend of deep blues and purples, with streaks of orange and yellow near the horizon where the sun was first appearing. The reflections of the colourful sky on the wet sand created a mesmerising effect. To my left were stairs that led up to the Esplanade, illuminated by the warm glow of the morning light. In the distance, lights started to appear as people awoke, adding to the tranquil and picturesque scene.
I found my way to the South Seas Hotel. Once inside I found a cosy bar where a dozen or so patrons were seated at an old wooden bar, engaged in conversation with the bartender. I looked around and took in the friendly, casual and relaxed atmosphere. It was then that I realised I was the only one not looking like I’d just spent a week in the bush. The place was rustic and inviting with all the charm that you’d want from a local gathering spot to relax and enjoy a drink. I decided to hang around for a bit.
Having spent the early part of the day climbing up the 253 steps to Cape Palliser Lighthouse, I couldn’t help but spare a thought for the early lighthouse keepers at the Cape. When the lighthouse was open in 1897, not only did they have to scramble up a muddy, 58 metre-high cliff to get to the lighthouse, but they had to manually haul large drums of oil and kerosene up as well. This lunacy continued for the first 15 years of operation at Cape Palliser until someone had the genius idea of putting in a set of steps! So, having explored the famous lighthouse and the nearby fishing villages, avoiding washed out sections of road, I stopped and went for a walk along the beach at Ngawi.
It was then that I noticed an extremely large and ominously dark wall of weather approaching from the south. Earlier in the day, I read that snow was forecast to fall in the Wairarapa area however that was something I’d chosen to ignore. I’d simply assumed it wouldn’t happen. After all, how often do you really believe snow will fall when it’s forecast. Now, late in the afternoon it seemed that snow was on its way.
I’ve mentioned the Dunedin Gasworks Museum in South Dunedin previously. Along with the fact that it is one of only three known preserved gaswork museums in the world, making it a place of significant heritage. Operating from 1863 to 1987, it offers a bit of rustic charm to all that visit it. The only drawback being that if like me you’re just not that interested in the manufacturing, treatment, pumping and storage of gas then you’re going to find it a little boring. Funny that most of its visitors seem to be men!
Without any real intention or set purpose, I returned to the Esplanade at St Clair. I’d been there only a few days earlier, only this time was different. On the previous occasion, I’d spent a glorious afternoon exploring the rock pools surrounding the St Clair Salt Water Pool at low tide. This time however, for reasons I wasn’t sure about and with no-set agenda, I needed to walk. Now, sitting in my car, I waited a few moments for a light rain shower to pass before strolling along the beachfront. I passed both the St Clair Surf Lifesaving club and the statue of ‘Mum’ (a famous local Sea Lion) and looked out beyond rows of sand sausages – massive long tubes made of mesh, filled with sand and put in place to help slow coastal erosion. I watched the incoming tide for a few minutes, turned and headed for the far opposite end of the Esplanade. The whole area was quiet in the fading light as the street lights started to take hold. Reaching the end of the Esplanade by the Salt Water Pool, I paused beside a cafe that must have closed several hours ago. Once again I stood and watched the tide roll in, breaking against the rocks before receding out into the backwash. Every so often patches of sand became exposed, revealing leftover seaweed and driftwood that would shift and move with the tide. I took a moment to look out across the ocean. As the light had continued to fade, the sea had taken on a moody grey-blue complexion. Suddenly to my left the lights of the Hotel St Clair came on and drew my attention back to the Esplanade. In the blue hour of evening, I walked in the salty sea air as darkness held. The lights from the hotel reflected off the road’s glossy surface, created from light misty rain that had recently passed through. The glow of the lights from the hotel revealed a cleaning crew packing up from the day while the restaurant was just starting to become busy. Occasionally, a passing vehicle would slowly pass along couples holding hands, walking in the calm and quiet night air.
I was walking along the shores of Lake Wanaka as the last light of day kissed the rugged mountain peaks in the distance. Nearby, the famous “lone tree” stood resolute, its branches reaching skyward as if whispering secrets to the heavens. In the distance, silhouettes of the surrounding treelines and mountain peaks, framing in a natural embrace. The water, mirroring the sky’s palette, rippled gently around the tree’s roots, creating a sense of calm and timelessness. The whole scene was a testament to the breathtaking allure of New Zealand’s landscapes.
The other morning while enjoying a cup of coffee which I hoped would awaken my senses, I read that Moeraki’s legendary seafood restaurant Fleur’s Place has permanently closed. Once considered one the best restaurants in the country, the famed rustic style restaurant gained international acclaim for specialising in fresh, local seafood. However, due to a number of reasons, the restaurant closed during the Covid 19 pandemic and has never reopened. Now, owner Fleur Sullivan has announced the doors are shut for good and the restaurant, located in the small North Otago village of Moeraki, will soon be for sale.
I found my way to the Otago University Library. Mainly because it was raining and I was wanting to wander around somewhere interesting. The rain had started while I was walking down Dunedin’s Castle Street and by the time I was approaching the Otago University, it was getting responsibly hard. Needing to find some shelter, I ducked into the Otago University Library where I figured I might as well see what creative angles I could find.
Leaving the Octagon in central Dunedin, I walked along lower Stuart Street before arriving at Dunedin Railway Station. A grand masterpiece of a building that really is magnificent in its splendour. Looking out across ANZAC Square, I couldn’t help but imagine what a hive of activity the place must have been when the station was the busiest in the country. At one time up to 100 trains a day used to arrive at the various platforms which included services from Mosgiel, Port Chalmers, Palmerston, Oamaru, Central Otago, Christchurch, Gore and Invercargill.
My destination was St Paul’s Cathedral which today stands on the northern edge of The Octagon. However, back in the 1850’s after Otago was first settled, if the Anglican Church community’s vision had come to pass, the Cathedral would now be sitting directly in the middle of the Octagon. When the plans for Dunedin city were first laid out in 1846, space for an Octagonal reserve was left in the city centre. A few years later, while the Anglican community were looking for a location to build a church, they decided the central Octagonal Reserve would be an excellent site and applied directly to the Governor-General for permission to build. One group that wasn’t happy with this idea was the Presbyterian community and when they found out about the building plans, all hell broke loose. In fact, the public outcry was so large that the Otago Superintendent William Cargil had to step in to sortout the mess. The result was the Anglican Church of St Paul’s Cathedral was moved to its now northern locale. Which, if you stand on its steps, has a pretty commanding view.
For those of you that like statistics, today’s photo was taken over 18,000 kilometres away from yesterday’s. While yesterday’s was taken while walking alongside the River Liffey in Dublin, today’s was taken at the Kerikeri Mission in Whangarei. Home to the oldest European buildings in the country. The Mission is set in a sleepy basin on a riverbank, surrounded by orchards and flowerbeds. While I was there, this man was making these massive bubble creations that really were rather impressive. They also had the added bonus of entertaining the kids.
What is it about calm, still harbours that seem so peaceful. Even on a cold winter’s day in Dunedin. With low clouds, rain and a temperature of no more than 10 degrees, looking out across the tranquil harbour, I couldn’t help but think that there was something rather serene about the whole thing.
Nearly 150 years ago, a man named James Speight, while feeling a little thirsty, decided to see what would happen if he mixed a few malt and hops together. Encouraged by friends Charles Greenslade and William Dawson, his newly created beverage was given the name of Speight’s and a brewery setup on Dunedin’s Rattray Street. A location that has been home to the popular draught amber ale ever since.
It was one of those idle afternoons where while there was plenty I should probably be doing, I’d put it all to one side and went off for an adventure instead. I’d been exploring the Harington Point gun emplacements on Otago Peninsula. A site that was first constructed in response to the threat of a Russian invasion in 1885. Following this, I had made my way down to the shoreline where I had a lovely time trying not to trip over! At some point in between swells, The Monarch came chugging along on one of its wildlife tours. I don’t think they were hoping for someone looking a little unbalanced, trying not to slip into the water but then every trip has a highlight!
If there’s one change that would instantly improve Arrowtown it would be to completely pedestrianise the main street of Buckingham Street. So, it was with interest that I recently read that the local council ran a trial closing the street to traffic. In a town that is quickly becoming overrun with vehicles, it’ll be interesting to see what the future holds.
Leaving Hagley Park, I crossed the Avon River and strolled along Rolleston Avenue before turning left onto Worcester Street. Passing the Christchurch Arts Centre while dodging trams, I continued until somehow met the Avon River again. From there, I found my way to Cathedral Square where I enjoyed a quiet moment or two taking in the various sculptures that are scattered around. One of which, located across from the Cathedral on the corner of Colombo and Hereford Street at the beginning of a pedestrian mall is a sculpture titled Flour Power by Regan Gentry. Gifted to the city in 2008, the steel structure stands an impressive 15 metres high and is kinda fun to stand under!
To get to this vantage point its a bit of a hike. Not difficult, just awkward more than anything else. That’s because I had to slog my way uphill through dense sand dunes that were heavily overgrown. The problem that created was that I couldn’t always see where I was stepping. However, the uphill struggle was worth the effort because the views from the small rocky ledge were very rewarding.
… from a Small City. My daily musings from Ōtepoti to get you inspired. Read the blog, view the photos, embrace the creativity.
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Alexandra Bridge in Autumn
Lake Wakatipu and the Devil’s Staircase
