Olveston – The Ballroom

Olveston – Ballroom.

Having spent the time rambling around the museum, I ventured up into the Dunedin hill suburbs to the stately home of Olveston. Spread over 1 acre of land, an original eight-room villa was purchased by the Theomin family on the Royal Terrace site in 1881. Twenty years later they bought an adjacent property and in 1904 they acquired another. This allowed the family to plan the building of a new house and garden over the three properties. Once the new home was completed in 1907, the four storey building featured reception rooms, a library, a kitchen, downstairs guest rooms, a galleried hall rising from the ground and to the upper floors which also served as a ballroom. There was a billiard room, a card room, numerous bedrooms, with the top floor being servants’ quarters and the basement serving as a large laundary. When I arrived, I was a little early for the next tour. So, I filled the time wandering around the lovely gardens which at one stage featured a substantial rose garden.

Former Police Cottage In Arowtown.

Butlers Green and the former Police cottage

On my last morning in Arrowtown I went for a stroll along the Arrow River Bridges Trail which on my way back, linked onto Tobins Track. A trail that gently ambles its way alongside the Arrow River. When the town came into view, I made my way up onto the Village Green before headlong on Buckingham Street. From there, I took in the view that looks out over Butlers Green to the Chinese Village and the Arrow River. From that vantage point hidden amongst the trees is a former Police Cottage. Built in 1863, the old Police hut is the oldest surviving wooden building in Arrowtown and originally located in Cardigan Street, it formed part of the Arrowtown Police Camp during the gold rush.

The ‘Tiger Tea’ Bus

The ‘Tiger Tea’ Bus

The trouble with modern museums is that they are beautifully presented with only selected exhibits on display that get rotated occasionally. Usually the exhibits are placed with a detailed information board with lots of space and around the item for the eye to take everything in. Personally, I prefer museums that are presented like a hall cupboard. Stuffed full of things that you have to spend hours sorting through before finding what you’re looking for. The fun part is generally on the way to the back of the cupboard you get a pleasant surprise by finding something you lost years ago. I wish museums took on this philosophy.

Josephine

Josephine at Toitu Early Settlers Museum

The first thing that greets you at Toitu Early Settlers Museum is a steam train called Josephine. One of two Double Fairlie locomotives that were imported from England, Josephine started life on the Dunedin-Port Chalmers Railway in 1872. She went on to serve on trainway lines all over the country. Until around the time of 1917 when she was sent to the scrap heap. After spending several years outside rusting away, she was eventually restored, moved indoors and now sits proudly on display in the foyer of Toitu Early Settlers Museum for all to see.

Lower Stuart Street

Traffic Lights on Lower Stuart Street

Leaving the Octagon, having completed everything I wanted to do for the day by 7am, I rewarded myself by going in search of breakfast. For no other reason than for my own amusement, I found a cafe where I could sit in the window and watch cars drive through red lights at an intersection.

Sitting and watching the world go by from my window seat, it really was quite astonishing and somewhat scary how complacent some drivers were. It was almost as if stopping at red lights had become optional! On one occasion I watched a car stop at a red light, pause while a bus went through and then simply carry on through the intersection without a care in the world. The behaviour of drivers was simply mind boggling, yet unfortunately not unexpected. A few years ago a study was conducted around Christchurch at 15 intersections across the city. What they found was that drivers ignored red lights 8170 times in a 24 hour period. That averages out to a staggering 340 times per hour that red lights were being disregarded, and that’s only at 15 intersections in Christchurch. Extend that out across the country and it becomes of pandemic proportions! To combat this a Regional Red Light Running campaign was launched whose main message was “Good drivers stop at red traffic lights”. Which in itself is just as mind boggling as I thought stopping at red lights was the law! Not just something that “good drivers” do! What is even more interesting is that failing to stop at a red light incurs a $150 fine. Compare that to the local Dunedin bylaw where failure to remove your dog droppings carries a $300 fine. Now it might just be me, but something seems out of balance there!

All of this occupied me in my window seat for some time. Long enough in fact for me to finish several cups of coffee and a fully cooked breakfast. All while observing the poor driving behaviour of my fellow citizens and a few ill-tempered and hostile Sea Gulls that were very angry at each other for one reason or another. Not fully aware of what the time was, I checked my watch and noticed to my surprise that a few local museums would be opening in the not too distant future. So, on that happy note I paid, thanked my hosts and headed off in the direction of Toitu Museum.

The Octagon

The Octagon 

On one occasion, I ventured into the city centre early one morning before everything became ‘used’ for the day. My altera motive was to see the Octagon, the scene of a recent unexpected set of circumstances.  An out-of-control truck and trailer had taken a scenic detour down Stuart Street and through the central Octagon several days earlier, narrowly avoiding the famed Robbie Burns statue before crashing through a covered walkway and decorating the whole area with a lovely assortment of wood chips. In celebration, a wide variety of orange road cones had been placed all around the unplanned route the truck had taken through the city centre, giving the whole place a scattered look.

Archibald Baxter Peace Garden

Archibald Baxter Peace Garden

So each day, without much planning I did things I hadn’t done in a long time. I strolled through parks and public gardens. I explored alleyways and lanes that detoured off empty back streets. I went to museums, exhibitions, and art galleries that I saw advertised on flyers hanging to lamp posts. I sat in Maggie’s cafe drinking coffee while watching people walk past. I went on self-guided heritage walks and admired forgotten pieces of architecture. I ambled around looking approvingly at pieces of street-art on the side of buildings. I sat in the Archibald Baxter Peace Garden that honours all New Zealand’s conscientious and quietly watched the world go by. I took the time to read plaques on footpaths that mark spots of historical significance. I even read all the plaques in the upper Octagon that make up the Dunedin Writers’ Walk as part of the UNESCO City of Literature.

Jubilee Park

Jubilee Park

Thanks to a mostly empty calendar, I had several weeks at my disposal, in a fictitious kind of way. The only thing I really had to do was stay close to home in Dunedin, so as long as I didn’t go on any long overnight expeditions the time was my own. I could do anything I liked, within reason.

I decided, quite randomly, to start with a walk through Jubilee Park in the city’s town belt. This was something I had been meaning to do for a while. I’d also been wondering for some time if Queen Victoria knew she had a park named after her in Dunedin? Further to this, I wondered if there’s an official royal list that identifies every world park, estate, playground, garden and forest that is named after a royal? I’m sure that if Queen Victoria knew that Jubilee Park was named after her, she would have been quite delighted. Anyway, Dunedin’s Jubilee Park was once known as Tomlinson’s Paddock before it was renamed Jubilee Park after Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee in 1887. It was here that I spent a lovely morning happily wandering the various paths that twisted and turned through the bush that makes up a section of the city’s town belt. 

The route I took made its way from the car park, through a dense line of trees that circumferenced a football ground. The bank on one side was high and steep with a heavy line of trees that sloped up to the sports field, while the other side quickly slipped down to a nearby road. As the path led further into the bush, the canopy of trees widened and grew thick. Occasionally it would split, leaving me with a choice of going left or right. Sometimes the light would drop, hidden by the thick foliage. Other times the sunlight would stream through the trees and bounce off the autumn vegetation. 

The path drew to a junction where three of four different paths met and the fallen leaves had overtaken the forest floor. Surveying my options, I could either head down the hill toward a path I hadn’t yet explored, or follow the path I was on to the top of the hill, back to the sports ground and eventually my car. I stood and looked at my surroundings, from time to time leaves would fall and land both on me and near me. At this moment, I realised I wasn’t quite ready to be back at my car just yet, so I headed down hill. The next hour or so was spent in this manner. Walking paths I hadn’t walked in a very long time, criss-crossing my way around Jubilee Park and the nearby town belt in the glistening afternoon sun.

The Manuka Gorge

The Manuka Gorge

I drove through places that had names like Shingle Creek, Roxburgh, Beaumont, Lawrence and Waitahuna to name a few. Places that were born out of the search for farmland or from the discovery of gold, often a little of both. As I wound my way over the countryside I couldn’t help but think of the extraordinary efforts people had made to traverse the landscape on foot. Often walking in the bitter coldness of winter or the extreme heat of summer. The trek to the gold fields on ‘The Dunstan Range’ and the Molyneux River took nearly a week to complete. It was as daunting as it was physically gruelling and completed while carrying close to 40 kilograms of equipment on their back. Something that is impressive by anyone’s standard.

I had time to ponder all this as I found myself stuck behind a tractor! As were about ten other vehicles until the driver had the good sense to pullover, before he was forced! Now travelling at a quicker clip, eventually we left the barren countryside of Central Otago behind and dropped down onto the more lush surrounds of the Clutha District and further beyond to Dunedin.

Alexandra

The Alexandra Bridge

The drive through to Alexandra was simply marvellous. In fact, there was only one word that could describe the day, and that is ‘delicious’. Everywhere I looked, everything had a radiant autumnal glow as the sun hung in a rich blue sky that reflected off the shop windows as I drove past. The whole town had a relaxed, lazy sort of feel. It was almost as if no one was in a hurry to do anything at all. I was certain that if at that moment a meteorite the size of texas had come hurtling out of the sky and headed straight towards this spot, all the town residents would have casually looked up at the sky and said, “well, would you look at that”. 

As I passed through the town, I suddenly decided to detour to look at the former town bridge, a structure that is a true feat of skill and engineering. Built in 1882, the remains sit right next to the newer version that spans the Clutha River. Beyond the bridges, the banks of the river were lined with autumn colour that was reflecting off the water. I wished I had longer to enjoy my current surroundings, however time was now starting to press against me and I really did need to get back to Dunedin. I vowed to return at some point to do the place justice.

Jackson’s Inlet, Lake Dunstan

Jackson’s Inlet, Lake Dunstan

At about the time in my podcast that Ms Patterson (The Mushroom Cook) was discovering that the Australian police were a little suspicious about her actions and that she would be facing charges of both murder and attempted murder, I was coming into view of Lake Dunstan. This was at Bruce Jackson Point, above where the old Cromwell township used to be, before the lake was formed. As I continued along State Highway 8, I now had the lake for company out of the right hand window, and a truly lovely scene it was. I rounded a bend and was greeted by a serene view of the lake. It was placid and tranquil as the mid-morning sun took over the surrounding hills that once formed the Cromwell Gorge. Not being able to resist, I called in to a picnic area at Jackson’s Inlet for a closer look. 

When I arrived an elderly couple were just packing up a picnic that they had been having under a row of Poplar trees. The trees were covered in golden leaves, glowing in the mid-morning air and not a breath of wind was out on the lake. It looked rather pleasant and somewhat idyllic. Standing on the shoreline, looking out to my picturesque and blissful surroundings, I found myself for the second time that morning tempted to start negotiating a time of departure. Alas, aware that I had a prior appointment to get to in Dunedin, I went back to my car and rejoined the line of traffic that was snaking its way past Lake Dunstan to Clyde and further on Alexandra. 

The Kawarau Gorge

The Kawarau Gorge

Leaving the serenity of Lake Hayes, I double back to Arrowtown for one last look at the autumn colours, before starting the three hour drive to Dunedin. Before long, I had left the surrounds of Arrowtown behind, passed through Arrow Junction and the popular Gibbston Valley before getting stuck in a long line of traffic at the Nevis Bluff. The bluff is a prominent rock outcrop close to where the Nevis River meets the Kawarau River and the Kawarau Gorge begins. As I approached the bluff, up ahead a long line of traffic seemed to be building. Facing the prospect of a slow drive through the upcoming gorge, I pulled over, scrolled through a few podcasts, loaded one and set off again. 

The podcast I had finally settled on came under the category of “True Crime”.  It was about an ordinary Australian family, having an ordinary Sunday lunch that went terribly wrong. It centres around Erin Patterson, Australian lady from the town of Leongatha, Victoria who invited her former inlaws around for an afternoon meal. The tragedy occurred when guests at the lunch ate a Beef Wellington. Unfortunately, the dish was tainted with “death cap” mushrooms which left three people dead and a fourth in critical condition in hospital. Now, a year later Erin Patterson is facing criminal charges and an Australian journalist is following the court proceedings and releasing a weekly podcast called “The Mushroom Cook”. 

So, with several hours of driving ahead of me and a juicy crime filled podcast to keep me company, I settled into a long line of traffic on the winding road that heads through the Kawararu Gorge and arrives at Cromwell.

Lakes Hayes

Autumn at Lake Hayes

I arrived at Lakes Hayes to find a man peeing in the bushes. There really is nothing like arriving at a family holiday and picnicking spot to be greeted with a bit of public urination. While Lake Hayes is relatively small as lakes go (276 hectares), it’s big enough for there to be plenty of options to park, meaning I could get well away from where he was standing. As far away as I could in actual fact. 

Finding a spot that wasn’t being used as a public toilet, I abandoned my car and set off on foot enjoying my recently purchased morning sustenance. While the coffee was good, it was the cinnamon scroll that was a pleasant surprise. I hadn’t had high hopes for it but feeling the need to eat something, I gave it a go and was rather pleased with my selection. I ate as I enjoyed the still, tranquil scene in front of me. 

The morning was still relatively young and the lake was as calm as a mill pond as the sun rose from behind the hills. Every so often a group of walkers would pass by, or an overly enthusiastic couple on a bike. Out on the lake in the distance a rowing crew seemed to be enjoying having the whole place to themselves, only sharing it with a scattering of ducks and a gaggle of geese that looked like they could turn ill tempered at any moment. Still, I worked on the theory that they would leave me alone, if I didn’t disturb them. An arrangement that seemed to work just fine. Finishing my nourishment, I walked for a bit taking in my surroundings. The whole lake is surrounded by mountains that remain covered in snow for most of the year once winter hits. This gives the place a spectacular dream-like feel. Enjoying the autumn colours, I could have stayed for hours. Just as I was tempted to start negotiating with myself regarding my time of departure, A campervan with markings on its back bumper indicating a recent entanglement drove past. It was closely followed by a very expensive looking SUV. It arrived and parked almost directly beside me. In an instant, three kids ejected themselves from the backseat and in the blink of an eye they were at the edge of the lake, throwing stones at the ducks and geese. Just then one of them announced they needed the toilet! I took this as my cue to leave!

A Case of Misconception

Autumn on Lake Hayes

Before I go any further with my tale, I feel it best to clear up a little confusion. Lake Hayes (or Hay’s as it was first officially named) is not named after local Arrowtown legend and notorious scoundrel Bully Hayes. Nor is it named after pioneer Ernest Hayes who settled in the Ida Valley. The lake is named after Donald Hay, an early Scottish farmer who came to New Zealand via Western-Australia and discovered the lake after surviving a winter storm and freezing conditions while sailing over Lake Wakatipu. It seems that at some point in history an erroneous ‘e’ was added to the spelling of hays between the ‘y’ and the ‘s’ giving the spelling of Hayes instead of Hay’s. My guess, and I’m just speculating here, is that local pub landlord Bully Hayes got whammed on whisky one night and told a whopping great big lie claiming the lake was named after him! Then, history and gossip did the rest.

Arrowtown

Autumn in Arrowtown

The next morning I decided to start the day with a stroll through some autumn leaves. It was one of those cool, clear autumnal mornings where everything was covered in dew. I noted that before too long, on mornings like these a heavy frost would have settled over night. It was clear that winter was approaching so, I was pleased to be able to enjoy my surroundings as I walked along the banks of the Arrow River. Eventually, after a number of scenic distractions, I pointed myself towards my intended target. The historic Chinese Village in Arrowtown. 

In 1865, when the initial Otago Gold rush had settled, many of the miners ventured to other gold fields. Such as on the West Coast of the South Island. So, the Dunedin Chamber of Commerce decided that they wanted to keep the economy going. To do this they invited Chinese miners to the region. For many of the invited miners, the plan was to send large amounts of money home before returning themselves in a few years. So it was that by the mid-1860’s the first of the recruited Chinese miners reached the goldfields in Otago. When they arrived, they discovered they were not allowed to have claims of their own, instead being granted permission to pickover the claims European miners had abandoned. By 1876, around 4000 male Chinese could be found on the goldfields. Spread over a number of locations throughout Central Otago, one of these locations was Arrowtown. It’s a sad tale really, as many of the miners never made anywhere near enough money to send home. In fact, many of them never made it home. Penniless and persecuted by many of the Europeans, a large number of those invited to the Otago goldfields died, never seeing their families again. 

The last time I visited the Chinese Village in autumn, everywhere was covered in a blanket of colour. An autumn palette of orange, red and ochre had taken over and there was something very tranquil and surreal about the whole scene. I was very much looking forward to seeing it once again. When the Chinese miners first arrived at the gold fields to work claims that had been abandoned, they weren’t allowed to settle in the main part of the village. Instead they set up homes and market gardens on the outskirts of the town beside the river. Not more than a 5 minute walk from the town’s main street, the Chinese Village and associated tracks beside the river used to be separated by a number of paths that twisted and turned through the trees and past streams until you reached the main car park. From there, the main shopping area was a short walk past buses and vehicles of various sizes circling the town looking for a parking spot. 

In my walk to the Chinese Village, I discovered that In recent years, to solve this problem and to provide enough parking spaces for the overflow of traffic that arrives each day, the main car park has been extended towards the river. This now means there is no separation between the carpark and the scenic vistas that people have come to see. So, while there is ample room for all the daily traffic, it also means you can step straight out of your vehicle and onto a walking track. You can stroll by the Arrow River or stand by landmarks of national significance while a campervan parks right beside you or you can watch families disembark from their SUVs as the kids squabble over who’s turn it is with the iphone! There really is nothing like having a gleaming white SUV as a backdrop for a piece of 1870’s history. Feeling a little disappointed that some of the tranquillity had been lost, I meandered back through the car park and went in search of a bakery for some morning sustenance. 

A short time later, I found myself standing in a short but busy line making a careful selection from the menu on the wall behind the counter. When at last my turn came, I approached the counter and said “good morning” in the friendliest voice I could muster, while realising this was the first person I had spoken to in 12 hours! “How can I help?” came a direct yet short tone that suggested urgency and speed was paramount. Placing my order at speed that I hoped would satisfy the lady standing behind the counter, paid and waited for the transaction to complete. I waited and waited and waited as the machine whirled. I waited and waited and waited yet the machine didn’t seem to want me to leave. As I continued to wait, I could feel the unease and grumblings of the customers behind me that were being held up. I could sense their frustration and annoyance at this idiot at the front of the line as the machine continued to whirl. Just as I was considering cancelling the order (out of embarrassment as much as anything else), the machine announced ‘approved.’

Feeling a sense of relief and having held up a line that was now snaking out the door, I collected my things, apologised to everyone and scurried out onto the street hanging my head in shame! Clutching a fresh cup of coffee and a Cinnamon Scroll, I headed to my car with a mind to enjoy the fresh morning air of Lake Hayes, and that’s where I headed next.

The Catlins River

The Catlins River 

When I was growing up, most of the history of Aotearoa that I was taught started with the arrival of Europeans. Very little mention was made of earlier inhabitants which were actually here for quite a significant period of time. Take the Catlins for example, Captain James Cook first sighted the area in the 1770’s when he sailed past. However, archaeological evidence points towards Māori tribes occupying the area to about 1350AD.

The Chingford Stables

The Chingford Stables

If we could bring Percival Clay Neill back to life, I’m sure he would be mighty impressed with how his stables now look in autumn. Having died in 1936 at the age of 94, he might wonder what happened to some of the buildings on his once extensive estate which included a homestead, stables, dairy, and coach house. However, I’m confident any disappointment over the loss of some of the buildings on his estate would be overshadowed by the lovely autumnal scenes that now encompass the grounds. 

Stewart Island/Rakiura

Bathing Beach Inlet on Stewart Island

Geographically, Stewart Island/Rakiura is the forgotten child of New Zealand. It is to New Zealand, what Alexander Hamilton is to American Politics. Everyone knows it’s there, and they know it’s kind of important but not really sure why! Ask anyone from either the North or South Island of New Zealand and they’ll most assuredly tell you it’s a wonderful place, yet ask them if they’ve actually set foot on it and you’ll most likely get an embarrassed shake of the head. Well, I can tell you that it’s a terrific spot with sheltered inlets, forested hills, rugged coasts, dunes, inlets and that’s only the start of its remarkable landscapes. It has a long history of Māori habitation, sealers and whalers lived there from around 1800 and its social history is as interesting as any other part of New Zealand. It truly is a most delightful place!

Autumn On The Otago Peninsula

The Otago Peninsula 

As I was standing looking out to the South Pacific Ocean, it occurred to me that autumn was most definitely taking hold. The warm evenings of summer had disappeared, only to be replaced by changeable weather patterns that not only brought with it cooler temperatures but also more frequent spells of wind and rain. I continued along the track, pausing for a moment to look out over a farm field that stretched down a slope and eventually stopped where the horizon met the ocean. I had the place all to myself and it was threatening to rain.

Arrowtown’s Historic Miners’ Cottages

Arrowtown’s European miners’ cottages

Having spent the afternoon photographing a local rugby match at Jack Reid Park in Arrowtown, I retired to my hotel where I showered and changed, reorganised my gear and went in search of a local pub. Several minutes later, I found a local establishment that I decided needed further investigation. I went inside, went about making myself comfortable and invested some time in testing several pints of beer while at the same time demolishing a pulled pork burger and successfully managing to drip BBQ sauce down my top. It was while I was contemplating whether I should attempt to clean my top or test another pint when the bar staff made the surprising announcement of last orders!  Wondering if I had missed something I checked my watch to find it was all of 9:05pm. Still trying to make sense of the fact that the pub was shutting at 9:00pm on a Saturday night, several minutes later I found myself standing on Buckingham Street with half an hour to kill before the Highlanders game kicked off. So, with four pints to the wind, a full stomach and the night air starting to feel a little crisp, I decided I might as well put the time to good use and headed in a mostly straight line in search of some historic gold miners’ cottages to see if I could drink and click!

Jack Reid Park

Arrowtown v Wakatipu (13.04.24)Jack Reid Park in Arrowtown

The other day I was in Arrowtown to cover a local rugby match between Arrowtown and Wakatipu that was being played at Jack Reid Park. These aren’t two heavyweights of New Zealand rugby you’ll understand, simply two local teams that have a fierce rivalry. Whenever they play it’s called “the battle of the basin” and it always draws a big crowd and Saturday’s match was no exception. For the record, Wakatipu won 27 to 19 with low misty rain and clouds hanging around for most of the day. However, late in the match the cloud cover did clear enough for the hillside which provides the backdrop to Jack Reid Park to be exposed with all its autumn glory. As far as backgrounds go there aren’t many rugby grounds in the world that can top Jack Reid Park in autumn.

The Solar Eclipse

Solar Eclipse In Dallas Texas

There are some very cool video’s floating around of yesterday’s Solar Eclipse. Check out this awesome video of the the crowd at Klyde Warren Park in Dallas, Taxas as they react to the moon passing between the earth and the sun.

Daily Photo: South Dunedin

South Dunedin

This is a shot I took on a helicopter ride over Dunedin a few years ago. It’s not a view of Dunedin I often see, so it’s nice to be reminded how different things can look if you can your perspective. It also reminds me how much the whole area of South Dunedin has changed in 200 years. 

Over two hundred years ago the area wasn’t solid land. There were lots of tidal inlets with wide spread marshy swamp land covered with tussock, rushes and flax. It was also home to a wide variety of bird life. Out towards the coast near the suburbs of St Clair and St Kilda, there were low lying sand dunes and a large lagoon that stretched towards Lawyer Head. From that point the land was covered in a much higher series of sand dunes. 

In the mid-1800’s when Dunedin began to be settled as a city, dry level land was in high demand. So, much of the wet, low areas were filled with any material available including a section near the beach being used as a tip. A tip right next to a beach, what could possibly go wrong!

Once Upon A Time In The West

The Clays Cliffs near Omarama

Roughly 10 km to the west of the township of Omarama you’ll find the Clays Cliffs. Formed around two million years ago, they are an impressive sight and a good wee stroll if you need to stretch your legs. Personally, I always think they look like something out of a spaghetti western movie. I keep expecting Lee Van Cleef or Clint Eastwood from For a Few Dollars More to suddenly appear. Or, if I’m really lucky, Claudia Cardinale from Once Upon A Time In The West might make an appreance. However instead of seeing an Italian film actress, all I ever seem to end up with are British tourists in campervans.

Christchurch

Christchurch Airport

The other day I began to wonder what international visitors are told about New Zealand before they arrive. Needing an answer, I turned to the ever popular Lonely Planet publication and looked up Christchurch:

“Welcome to a vibrant city in transition, coping creatively with the aftermath of NZ’s second-worst natural disaster. Traditionally the most English of NZ cities, Christchurch’s heritage heart was all but hollowed out following the 2010 and 2011 earthquakes that left 186 people dead.”

https://www.lonelyplanet.com

Diamond Lake

Diamond Lake

This delightful scene I discovered on my way to Paradise and yes, here in New Zealand there really is a place called that. It’s located on the eastern shoreline of the Dart River at the head of Lake Wakatipu. If you’re heading to Paradise (I like being able to write that), before you get there you’ll pass Diamond Lake, a popular camping and fishing spot and a true gem of a conversation area. Actually, I spent hours there. I only stopped for a look and I ended up walking along tracks and watching all sorts of wildlife. I even went for a swim in the lake. 

Ross Creek Waterfall (School Creek Waterfall)

Ross Creek Waterfall

I’d completely forgotten about the Ross Creek Waterfall (also known as School Creek Waterfall). It really is a hidden surprise! Found along the trail that runs beside School Creek, it’s a delightful tranquil spot and completely man made. Although it appears a natural creation as the water cascades down from the reservoir, in fact the falls were created as a diversion channel when the reservoir was first created.