Nov06FJ to Karamea

Nov06FJ to Karamea

Awoke early, poor sleep again. Going to need a vacation when we get home. Long drive ahead, a few hundred kilometers. Doesn’t sound like much, but you can’t simply divide the distance by the speed limit and get the actual driving time like you can in the U.S. and Canada.



100km is a long way, many of the roads are so gnarled and twisted you’re lucky to average 30-50km/hr despite 100kph limit, especially in a fat butted campervan with overenthusiastic traction control. (Thing shuts off power at the merest hint of a slide, unspooling the turbo, leaving you at least a gear too high if there’s any sort of incline…not fun. I shut it off now during uphill twisty runs.) Adding to the fun was yet more one lane bridges, but now they’ve added train tracks to the mix for even more driving enjoyment…

Dead possums everywhere. That’s about all I see for road kill, excepting the occasional bird. Not the same possums as the ugly U.S> ones, they’re nocturnal, and actually furry and cute, but remember the movie “Gremlins”? They’ve overrun N.Z., pushing native species of flora and fauna alike out of their habitat and near extinction in some cases. They’re hated here. Poisoned, trapped, hunted. Little fledgling industry is making stuff out of possum fur, and/or blending it with merino wool to make warm knitwear.

Rolled up to the small town of Greymouth for one purpose…. Another brewery tour!!!

Monteiths brewery has an original outpost here. Employs 7 people. Small, neat operation.

Got to taste the 5 kinds of malt they use to make their beer, the crystal variety was surprising good… crunchy and sweet. The darker roasts took on more and more of a burnt toast taste, though.

The extraction/separation process, cool to see with the big viewing window in the tank…

The sweet malt extract after losing the husks. The remnants go to local farmers as cattle feed.

Above is the heat exchanger used to chill the wort. The extracted heat warms water in a parallel circuit that is stored in the big tank below and used to create the next batch of wort. Good energy management.

She actually led us up the stairs in the tank room, where we got to see two brews fermenting. Monteiths uses the “open vat” method, they say the escaping co2 from the yeast forms a shield against contamination once the stain they’ve pitched starts working, so no need for a cover or to keep people out. The smell was wonderful in here.

Their “golden” ale…

And their “dark”…

The best part…. The tasting room.

They’ve made a “Radler” beer, a light gold ale with a slight lemon-lime flavor, it’s selling incredibly well. An English guy with us on the tour said in England they did the same thing by adding a splash of lime on top of lager, it was called a “Lagertop”. Our guide explained Radler meant cyclist, it was originally a beer watered down with lemonade so the bicycle riders wouldn’t get too drunk and crash. Interesting history.

Continued on. One of the books mentioned “Pancake rocks”, an odd collection of layered limestone extending out into the ocean. We stopped.

The layers of rock allowed the waves to undercut and shape the shoreline extensively, creating blowholes and caverns, columns, arches, and deep crevices. Surreal landscape.

This is a huge (you can see the walking trail on the opposite top edge) square opening that the ocean waves fill and withdraw, causing huge splashes and surges as the water finds itself with nowhere to go. ..

The underground rooms created by the erosion often have impressive blowholes, as the incoming water causes pressurization of the trapped air. It then escapes upward through cracks. Pretty…

They say it’s best when there’s high seas. I think we chose a good day…

This Weka was darting back and forth across the road, obviously a fixture here as it probably gets fed frequently. Fast on it’s feet for such a weird bird…

O.K., Back to work. Driving, driving. Finally reached our destination, crossing two passes before finally descending back to sea level. Whitebait were obviously still running, every pulloff was occupied with beat up cars and trucks containing hip waders and a big fine mesh net to trap the things. Signs everywhere proclaiming whitebait for sale.

Settled in, briefly considered cycling down the road along the estuary to the coast, but decided some wine tasting in the back of the camper sounded better.

Goodnight.