Driving again along the eastern shore of Lake Taupo, I come to realise how big it is. Even with little traffic to slow my progress, it takes a long time to reach the far end. Several times along the way, as the road gets right down to water level, I marvel at the sight. But it's not what I really want to see. I'm chasing volcanoes.
At Turangi, I turn right onto Highway 47 and into the National Park. The scenery is good, but not outstanding - there are too many hills and forests for that. But slowly I'm gaining altitude and the scenery is changing. The trees start thinning, replaces by bushes and shrubs and grasses. There are no other vehicles on the road and it starts feeling quite desolate. Then, on my left, I get my first glimpses of snow. It's not much - just very thin cover, at the base of a hill that is so conical that I know it has to be a volcano. Pulling over, and checking my map, I'm sure it's Mount Ngauruhoe. Frustratingly, there's some low cloud and I'm quite high, so most of the volcano is hidden. Twenty minutes later, the frustration returns. I see more snow, and more cloud. But I turn left nevertheless, following the signs for the Whakapapa ski area.
After a few minutes driving, I come across somthing quite unexpected. Chateau Tongariro is a large hotel standing at the foot of Mount Ruapehu. In many other places it would be an imposing building. But here, even with much of Ruapehu hidden, the hotel is impressive but still seems small.
I follow the road past the hotel, and on up the hill. A few hundred yards further on, in the early months of summer, I see a sign warning of winter conditions. Excellent!
The road writhes up the mountain for another couple of miles and, with the window open, I can feel the air outside going from warm to cool to cold. There is very definite snow cover now, and snow lies thickly at the side of the road, where it has been ploughed aside. After five minutes of slow, sinewy progress, I arrive at the small base station of the Whakapapa ski area. The drive from Taupo has taken more than 90 minutes, and I don't know when my next stop will be. So I have a quick break at the cafe, drinking a coffee and reading an out-of-date ski magazine.
But I can't hang around for long. I have an awfully long way to go, and it's already after midday. So, having reached the end of this particular road, I turn round and drive back down, past the hotel, until the T-junction at the bottom where I turn left back onto Highway 4. The rest of the ride, along Highway 4 and then left onto Highway 49, passes through some good scenery, with highlights frustratingly hidden by either trees or hills or clouds. What have I done to deserve this? A long time later (how does every drive in New Zealand take so long?) I arrive at Ohakune. The buildings somehow put me in mind of a Western frontier town.
Driving around, the place seems almost deserted. I suppose it's not surprising, being a ski town out of season. In Europe, most ski resorts are heavily pushing themselves as summer destinations too, but it looks like that practice has yet to reach Ohakune. In a small shop I find out which road will take me up into the Ruapehu ski area. The cloud seems to be blowing over, and, standing down in sleepy Ohakune, I look up at the vast and snow-covered Mount Ruapehu. I want to get up there quickly, in case some more cloud arrives.
Even this drive takes some time, and gets pretty steep and twisty along the way. But it's worth it. At the end of the road, the ski station car park is covered with snow. The ski station is closed, but the gleaming white slopes are alost irresistable, and if I had my snowboard I'd be sorely tempted to hike. I stay for a while, reflecting on the fact that I'm parked on a snow-covered volcano in a New Zealand summer. Fantastic. But sitting here, the best slopes are obscured. So, keen to get some better photos and conscious of the rapidly passing time, I head back down the road, stop a few miles below the car park, take some photos, and then I'm on my way.
Back in Ohakune I fill the car with petrol, get back onto Highway 49, and head east towards Waiouru, where Highway 49 meets the Desert Highway that will take me back North. Even this drive seems to take for ever. So when I finally get back onto the Desert Highway, I just drive and drive and drive, noting the unworldly scenery of the plateau, but continue briskly on my way. By the time I get back to Taupo, the cloud has returned.
I don't stop in Taupo. By now, I'm keenly aware how much longer the journeys take in New Zealand, compared with equivalent distances in the UK. So I just keep driving, following Highway 1 for hours - through gloom, and then rain, and then gloomy rain - until I finally reach Rotorua. It's a famous geothermal area, and renowned for its sulphurous smell. The smell doles hit me as I drive into town. It's very noticeable, but not repellent. Strangely, the smell seems to change in different parts of the town but, although it's always there in some degree, it's never the dominating experience. But maybe that's because I have more pressing concerns.
It's evening now, and raining persistently. The motels signs advertise their vacancies in neon reds and greens and blues. I check a couple and decide it's not worth cruising around finding a good deal - the prices are likely to be pretty similar. So I check into one and get a quick bite to eat, before coming back, showering, watching some TV and going wearily to bed. This has felt like a long, long day, but I've seen my first snow-capped volcano, and I feel like I've finally started experiencing some of the New Zealand that I've waited so many years to see.
No comments:
Post a Comment