Day 8: Akaroa – New Zealand’s East Coast

Today wound up being a free day. I had originally planned to depart on Saturday, thinking I couldn’t get a direct flight from Christchurch back to San Francisco. Plus, that would get me a day early to get life sorted before heading back to work on Monday. However, I discovered United had a direct flight from Christchurch – just Sundays, Tuesdays, and Fridays. I made the exchange to economy in a window exit row thinking that was better than Premium Plus in the aisle connecting through Sydney and adding seven hours to the trip. I had a long shot of hope that I might be able to upgrade to business, but alas, there were many more fully paid seats, 1K, and Platinum flyers than the plane had lie flat seats.

So, a little more fun today means a bit more pain on the plane tomorrow!

I had been asking around how I should use my last day in Christchurch. In general, New Zealanders were down on Christchurch. I didn’t understand that today was the anniversary of the February 2011 earthquake, which followed the September 2010 earthquake that hit Christchurch. The September quake caused much damage to the city. More importantly, the February earthquake devastated the weakened city in terms of the number of lives lost and buildings damaged. Locals now describe Christchurch as bland rather than a vibrant city it might have been. Since I was striking out consistently looking for destinations in Christchurch, Akaroa seemed to be the next best option.

As I walked out of the hotel, I could feel a fall in the air. It’s only February, which is still high summer in these parts. The air was crisp in the low 50s. I wouldn’t think that kind of weather would show up until at least April. The tour guide constantly reminds me that you can experience four seasons in one day on the South Island in New Zealand. I’m learning. I’m learning.

Akaroa is a coastal community that likes to display its French fare in the same way that many states in the US have their “German” town: Helen, Georgia, and Leavenworth, Washington, are the two that quickly come to mind. Akaroa sits on the end of a peninsula on the south island – thinking wistfully about what Nova Scotia might look like in Canada. Leaving Christchurch was all the grind of any major city, and with it behind me, the road opened and squiggled across a wide coastal plain. I didn’t know where I was going or what it might look like. I was trying to build a mental model for the adventure ahead.

The road to Akaroa has a vigorously defended kph at the fastest and 60 kph through the hills. The tour guide indicated that these limits weren’t necessarily overly punitive and that I would still enjoy the ride. Wandering across this coastal plain reminded me of California Highway 160 snaking through the delta when I got to the hills (strikethrough that). I mean, the ride in the mountains got super interesting quickly. The mountains here are as aggressive as other places on the South Island – and even in Vancouver, BC- but they have skin resembling northern California. The mountainsides have wide open grasslands with trees dotting the landscapes. This area used to be a former volcano, which explains the circular nature of the mountainscape.

Before departing, I looked at Google Maps and saw a faintly colored road named “Summit Road.” I usually gravitate towards the sorts of squiggles as they usually go to or travel through somewhere interesting. As I was climbing the mountains on Highway 75, I was definitely working. We were climbing mountains. At the top of the ridge line, I saw a sign indicating a tourist route—Summit Road.

This piece of asphalt was everything I wanted it to be. It was a black squiggle across an actual ridgeline. It was the isthmus of pavement 2250 feet in the air with bodies of water on both sides. I saw more motorcycles today than at any other point in the trip. Akaroa was the Saturday ride out of Christchurch. The locals flew by me, and I caught tour groups in town restaurants. I will call out OMG; the campervans are asphalt terrorists on wheels. They drive too fast, below the centerline, and lean awkwardly in off-camera corners.

The town of Akaroa is undoubtedly cute. It’s a tourist trap, but I don’t really hold that against it as it caters to people like me. The two main streets in town, Rue Lavaud, and Rue Jolie point to the town’s French heritage. It is fitting that the city sits on French Bay. I continued to struggle on the food front so this time, I hit up the grocery store to get some simple basics. The Four Square Supermarket did the trick. Even this little supermarket out on the Peninsula has self-checkout systems fitted with a warm and friendly New Zealand accent, LOL. As I step outside, I realize it’s only 70°, but I’m sweating bullets. The humidity or the stronger sun must have been different as I had never been this warm in Northern California at the same temperature.

I asked if a lighthouse was in town, and the locals shared a resounding “yes!” I made my way east along the beach road to see it sitting on the Peninsula. It’s been moved from its original location on the Pacific Ocean and replaced with a more modern LED device. Now, the lighthouse sits well protected inside the harbor on French Bay. It also includes a Fresnel lens of French heritage, common in North American lighthouses on the West Coast.

I took a moment here to reflect on the week. Not only was I turning back towards Christchurch, but this was the end of this adventure. In some ways, I found myself thinking about David, the New Zealand biker we met a few days ago, who was doing much of my ride compressed in the two days. I felt like this ride was its rally, going to many places scattered throughout the South Island of New Zealand. I had just collected my final chip for the rally, Akaroa, and now I am heading home.

I thought about climbing Summit Road again to take the more aggressive path home and then making my way over to Lyttelton through the tunnel. Instead, I hadn’t seen all of Highway 75, so I just took the main road home. I realized it’s okay to leave adventures here unexplored, as I believe this is a place I’d love to come back to—maybe even live.

California has been fantastic to me in so many ways. New Zealand has many things I enjoy about California but in a very different package. Motorcycling is good here (I can learn to deal with the rain). The mountains are good here. The social services and support are good here. Much like Australia, it’s an island in the far South Pacific that presents challenges of its own—but none that can’t be overcome.

As I’m signing off for this adventure, I want to thank my friends at home who kept an eye on my Garmin InReach. I appreciate each of you looking out for me. A few notes: