New Zealand: Tranzalpine Express and Fox Glacier

The Tranzalpine Express

The train station in Christchurch is called Addington (no P). We checked in our bags – no searching for a spot to park your suitcase on these trains – there is a special carriage for luggage. The carriages themselves are airy and spacious with large windows.  Towards the front of the train is an empty carriage without any seats and with open sides so you can go and take pictures of the scenery and/or get some fresh air.

The Tranzalpine Express, inside and out

Just before we left the peace was shattered by a busload of Chinese tourists boarding our carriage: fifty or so people chattering excitedly, but not only that, as the train moved off, a group of them started singing. They had a song sheet, and while they had decent enough voices they were drowning out the commentary, making it difficult to hear even through ear-phones. Eventually the train manager came along and told them they would have to shut up, which they did.

Arthur commented that perhaps my next novel should be called Murder on the Tranzalpine Express, in which a bunch of Chinese tourists are murdered because people are irritated by their singing!

Once out of the city, it was pretty scenic all the way – mountains, fields of cattle and purple/pink lupines; trees, rivers – always something to see. 

Selected views from the train

Got coffee and crisps from the buffet car and sat back to enjoy it. The open carriage was very crowded, until for one part of the journey, a long tunnel, they closed it because of the fumes. They announced that also, while the train went through this tunnel the buffet would be closed and the emergency stop button disabled. We were advised to remain seated and not leave our carriages although using the toilets was allowed. A lot of fuss over a tunnel, I thought at first. This must be health and safety gone mad. First Great Western don’t make such a fuss about the Box Tunnel (a rather long one between Bath and Chippenham)! Then I learned that it was actually quite a steep gradient through the tunnel which required an extra engine to help pull the train up, or help with braking, depending which way you were going.

One of the stops on the way, just before the tunnel, in fact, was called Arthur’s Pass.

Our destination was Greymouth, a small town a little like Fishguard where you get the ferry to Ireland. From what we saw (the train station, car hire place and one street of shops) not the most inspiring place, although there was a very impressive mural on one wall. 

When we had picked up our new rental car (which was very like the first one, only red) we stopped for lunch in a place called Freddy’s bar which did an extremely nice lunchtime pasta special.

We didn’t have a lot of time to explore all that Greymouth might have had to offer as it was a long drive to our next stop, Fox Glacier Township. We wondered if Fox Glacier was where Fox’s Glacier mints came from, although (if you are of a certain age you’ll get this reference!) there are neither polar bears nor foxes in New Zealand. Wikipedia, however, says that the mints originate in England.

It was here that we encountered some insane road layouts. At one point there was a single lane bridge which had a railway line running along it as well as it being a road for cars, so for several hundred yards you were driving along a railway line. Cars are supposed to give way to trains, which is fine, but with buildings and forestation, it was doubtful whether you could see a train before it was very nearly upon you. It seemed entirely possible that even though it was clear as far as you could see, that a train could easily catch up with you while you were driving over this bridge. 

Even though we knew there were only two trains a day, and presume (one would hope) that the trains go very slowly along this section and blow their whistles as they approach, it was a little nerve-racking. In addition, there were a couple of roundabouts where the railway line crossed right over the roundabout.

There were dramatic views on the way of misty lakes and rushing streams but nowhere to stop and take pictures.

Stopped for coffee in a small town called Hari Hari as the place our itinerary recommended was closed.

Tonight we stayed at Misty Peaks Bed and Breakfast. Rather appropriately named as there would be a fabulous view of the mountains if the cloud was not so low. Dave, our host, says sunshine is forecast for tomorrow, but it was for today, too, so the forecast isn’t necessarily reliable.

Misty Peaks

View from Misty Peaks

This was another place that did pre-dinner drinks and we met some other guests who had been for a nice walk around a lake.

Ate at a place called The Last Kitchen – had salmon pasta.

Day 30: 10 December:  Fox Glacier

Heli-hike

Today’s excursion was a heli-hike. According to the itinerary we would be provided with crampons and ice axes - so I was feeling a bit apprehensive about what this trip would entail, and what level of fitness and bravery Beyond the Blue were assuming we had when they booked it for us!

When we checked in I couldn’t help but notice that all the other people waiting with us were younger and fitter looking than me, but I was reassured by the notice saying that only low/moderate fitness was required for this particular trip.

We were bussed to the heli-pad and given boots and waterproof jackets and a safety briefing about the helicopters (eg only approach them from the front because the blades on the tail could kill you). Then they got groups of people to stand on a big weighing machine so that they didn’t overload the helicopters.

We were flown up to the glacier in three relays. We were in the middle one, so they could point out the group already there. When the next lot arrived we were told to crouch down, so as not to be blown away by the wind generated by the blades, and not to look at the incoming helicopter as it would throw up ice fragments and there was a danger of getting one in the face.

The helicopters

We were issued with crampons and shown how to attach them to our feet – but only the two guides, Malcolm and Steve, had ice axes.

On the plus side, it is pretty awesome being up there and seeing the incredible ice formations and water pools the movement of the glacier causes. There are caves big enough to stand in and pools of blue water. It wasn’t really cold, nor was it windy.

Us on our hike and some of the ice formations we saw

It was cloudy, though, and threatening to rain.

On the minus side, I’m not fit, or sporty, or brave, or confident on my feet, especially on the uneven and slippery surface, and knowing that putting a foot wrong could result in falling down a big hole and freezing to death, or at least breaking an ankle. I’m sure I was holding everybody up. In fact, it wasn’t long before Malcolm must have decided I wasn’t really up to it and was insisting on holding my hand and leading me everywhere we went, even in places where I would have felt confident enough to do it on my own. I wasn’t going to argue, because if I refused his helping hand, he might not offer it when I needed it, and besides, how often do I get to walk hand in hand with a handsome young man these days?!! Part of my problem was a tendency to step sideways, when the safest thing to do is keep your feet straight and pointing downhill. I felt safer stepping sideways. Apparently people who ski often have that tendency because that’s what you’d do if you were wearing skis.

Apparently this area of New Zealand gets more rain than England – twice as much.

We’d been up there a couple of hours when the clouds really closed in. The guides were on the radio to base, reporting the progress of the cloud and saying we were all equipped with waterproof gear and so everything was fine – but the cloud closed in to the extent that the helicopters couldn’t come and get us. There was no other way down, so we’d just have to wait until either 1) the sun burnt the cloud away, 2) the clouds blew away or 3) it rained. The sun was doing its best but there was no wind or rain. We had no idea how long we might have to wait. There was even talk that it might not clear at all and we’d have to stay there overnight.

One of the other hikers, a Belgian guy who had a plane to catch next day, was asking every five minutes or so what the likelihood was that we would be stuck there overnight. “It’s only happened twice in thirty years,” the guides said. They had said earlier that they had only seen rocks with fossilised worm casts up there twice, but we had seen them earlier in the morning so it could be it was a day for rare things to happen. Arthur was getting quite irritated with this guy constantly asking and I think if we had had to stay overnight he would have ended pushing this guy down a hole.

We made our way down to their emergency supply barrels. Malcolm was on the radio asking which of the barrels had the biscuits in. I was joking with him and asking which barrel had the gin and tonic in it. He radioed, “One of the guests wants to know which barrel has the gin and tonic,” and the reply came back that it was barrel 16. I presume from that that there were 15 barrels. I don’t believe drinking alcohol when you’re stuck up a mountain overnight is a good idea, hence it's an urban myth that St Bernard dogs have brandy in the barrels round their necks. Anyway, I hope I demonstrated that even if I was totally unfit and crap at heli-hiking at least I had a sense of humour.

We had some biscuits and were asked if we wanted a cup of tea. I wasn’t sure I wanted to drink anything because it might make me need the loo.

A few of the fitter and more confident people went to look at another cave but Arthur and I and the Belgian couple stayed put. Malcolm gave me his back pack to sit on. I feared that in order to be lifted off, we’d have to get back up to where we were dropped, and if there was only a short window of opportunity to get out, I’d screw it up by being really slow to get there, even with help.

I was relieved to hear that it was possible to hack out a helicopter landing site almost anywhere on the ice with the ice picks. After a while, Steve and Malcolm started doing just that, which seemed like a promising sign. The scariest thing was not knowing how long we’d be stuck there. None of us relished the thought of sleeping on hard and lumpy ice with no food other than biscuits and no loo.

Waiting to be rescued

Then we saw a helicopter coming up through a tiny gap in the cloud. We all had to crouch down again and not look at it. Then they loaded a number of us into it – Arthur and I – presumably because they didn’t want to be lumbered with the useless old fat woman if they could help it, and the Belgian couple, presumably because they had a plane to catch, or possibly because they were tired of the guy complaining, and a couple of other people and some of the equipment. A second helicopter was already circling waiting to land once we got out of the way, so it was clear they were wasting no time. On the way out, there had only been only one helicopter at a time dropping us off.

When we got to the heli-pad we were unloaded pretty fast – someone undid my seat belt for me as I was putting the earphones away – as presumably they had to go straight back to pick up the two guides and one remaining guest. The word was that they knew they only had about ten minutes to get everybody off before the clouds closed in again, possibly for the rest of the day. We were all pretty relieved to be on the ground, I can tell you.

Before we went up there they had explained the refund policy – if the trip was cancelled due to the weather (which it could have been as they hadn’t had the definite all clear from the pilots at that point) you got your money back. If the pilots flew up there and decided it wasn’t safe to land, you got most of your money back. If they decided to pull people back off the ice after less than an hour you got maybe half your money back, but an hour and a half or more on the ice (it was supposed to be two hours) counted as a full trip. We were not advised as to what would happen if we got two extra hours on the ice, but nobody has sent us a bill for the extra time so far.

I did wonder why, given that they could see the clouds were closing in, they didn’t send the helicopter to pick us up sooner – had the clouds closed in too suddenly and quickly at ground level for anyone to be able to do anything, or had someone been lax in their forecasting, or a bit too willing to take a chance so as not to have to give any money back? I guess I’ll never know.

The guides were brilliant; no complaints about them at all - they knew exactly what they were doing and although they joked about being stranded overnight, appeared calm and capable all the time. If they were panicking about anything, they did a perfect job of hiding it. Arthur gave Malcolm a generous tip for looking after me so well.

I’m glad to be able to say I did it, and I have a certificate to prove it, but next time I think I’ll take the scenic helicopter that lets you stand on the ice for five minutes and then flies straight back again.

We were totally ready now for a hot lunch and a large glass of vino, but called in at our B and B first to change out of our damp and muddy clothes. 

Dave’s wife Lea was there with a friend, and they were telling us they had known something was going on because they don’t usually hear the helicopters at that time of day and in such bad weather. 

Although there were tents up there in the barrels, they said, the zips didn’t work on the sleeping bags and there was no food other than biscuits and possibly pot noodles. 

Lea told us that they had had two guests who went on the heli-hike and were stuck on the glacier overnight (one of the two occasions, therefore, had not been all that long ago). She and Dave had been worried sick about these people, and had called the police when they didn’t return to their room. It seemed that the heli-hike company had not thought to notify the police that sixteen people were still up on the glacier. Lea and her friend seemed a little dismissive of the company and their procedures should people be stranded on the ice, so we felt even more grateful to have made it down before dark.

By the time we’d eaten lunch it was pouring with rain. We went for a drive to the place where it was possible to walk up to the foot of the glacier, but didn’t stay long or do the walk, which the sign said took an hour. The sheer cliffs and misty clouds were dramatic, though, and there was a pool there which appeared to be bright green, because of the stuff growing in it.

Green pool

Dramatic cliffs

We drove on to the lake the other people had said they walked around, and walked around it. I was struck by the contrast between where we were in the morning (desolate ice field) and where we were now (lush rain forest). Also that it had been warmer on the ice than one might expect, and that it was rather cooler in the rain forest than one might expect.

It took over an hour to walk all the way around the lake, but it was very pretty there and we got some nice photographs. By the end of it, I was feeling quite stiff after that walk and four hours of ice hiking, and my legs were stiff for a couple of days.

The lake near Fox Glacier

Walking in the rain forest

We had thought we’d try a different place to eat but after looking at the menus we ended up in The Last Kitchen again and recognised several people in there that we had seen on the train the day before.

I particularly appreciated my bed that night, realising how close we'd come to camping out on the glacier that night.