Of Presidents and Penguins (and an Albatross or Two)

After enjoying the splendors of Milford Sound, it was time to make our way back to Christchurch, stopping over in Dunedin for a couple of nights. The drive from Te Anau to Dunedin should have taken about three and a half hours, but we made it an all-day affair by meandering through the ever-windy Southland and deviating to the coast for our final glimpses of New Zealand’s spectacular  beaches and coastline.

The drive took over rolling hills criss-crossed with enormous windbreaks of pine trees and tall poplars and punctuated by several interesting small towns.

The most attractive of these is the town of Gore, which, though much prettier, was much like Dargaville in the North Island, and could easily be dropped in to California’s Central Valley and not look one bit out of place.

As we left Gore, I noticed with some amusement that the next town on the map was Clinton, and was just remarking on this coincidence when we passed a sign designating the road between the two towns the ‘Presidential Highway’! Unlike Gore, Clinton was not much to look at, but we enjoyed the fact that New Zealand had capitalized on the unlikely juxtaposition of two towns named Clinton and Gore.

From there we moved towards the seashore, intent on taking in ‘the Nuggets’ and  ‘Roaring Bay’ where we hoped to see yellow-eyed penguins—the world’s rarest—come ashore in the late afternoon. The waters along the Nuggets Road were just magnificent and we stopped several times to take in the scenery.

Because that area of coastline is so windy, we didn’t walk all the way out to the Nuggets lighthouse, though we did catch a glimpse of the famous blobby islands just offshore.

On our way back, we stopped at beautiful Roaring Bay, where I walked to the hide in hopes of spotting a penguin while Tom stayed higher up on the hills surrounding the beach.

I stayed in the hide for some time, but didn’t see a single bird. When I got back to the car, however, Tom excitedly asked me what I thought of the penguins….from his vantage point, he had seen several leaving the water for their nests on the beach. Thinking that I had undoubtedly seen them too, he hadn’t bothered to take any photographs, as he was certain I would have been snapping away. Alas, I never even glimpsed one.

The rest of the day’s drive to Dunedin was punctuated by vista after vista of dazzling beaches and other-worldly water made even more vivid by the dramatic clouds that came up in the late afternoon.

In Dunedin we stayed in a lovely converted historic townhouse with 15 foot high ceilings, a fireplace and clawfoot tub.

Dunedin itself, founded by Scotsmen, and the oldest city in New Zealand, looked much the same as it had when I last visited 50 years ago.

It still maintains its British feel architecturally, and Tom could not get over how European it appeared and how different and much older it seemed than the other cities we had stayed in.

We only had one day in Dunedin,so we decided to spend most of it on the Otago Peninsula, culminating in a guided tour to learn about and observe the nesting Royal Albatross pairs that make their once-yearly landfall there.

Dunedin bay and the peninsula are very picturesque and we cruised along under bluebird skies and the warm sea breezes.

The albatross center and tour were very informative and interesting. We learned about the albatross life cycle, about the birds’ amazing abilities to remain at sea, never making landfall for up to five years at a time, drinking sea water and processing it in glands over their eyes, which remove the salt and excrete it through the nostrils at the base of their beaks. The vast majority of the world’s albatrosses nest on remote offshore islands, so few people ever get to see them up close while they are land bound.

We were able to see several of the majestic birds sitting on their one egg, a few of which had already hatched and caught a glimpse of a white fluffy chick when one of the parents stood up to groom.

Unfortunately, and just our luck since it had been blowing hard the day before, it just wasn’t windy enough for the birds to fly, so we did not observe any of the comical landings or take-offs that these birds are famous for. Nevertheless, it was a worthwhile excursion and we came away with a great respect for these remarkable birds.

After a beachside picnic and one last walk through the town, we prepared to make our way to Christchurch the next day–the last full day of our wonderous journey from the top to the bottom of this amazing country.