This morning we caught the TranzAlpine from Christchurch to Greymouth. Of this, the LP opines “At the mouth of the Grey River – hey, these early settlers had a lot of stuff to name, OK??” This was my plan to give us a day off driving like maniacs in an underpowered, badly-designed Nissan Sunny – $17 a day to park the dullard was a bargain. New Zealand’s train network is limited, but most of the routes are wasted on the freight that uses it, though the driver probably appreciates the views. The tourists queuing at the ticket desk knew the score – or rather gross – we only just got ours before the train left. On reflection, however, since the woman who gave us our boarding card was also the one serving on the buffet car, it probably would not have left without us. The four-hour journey is a treat, going over the Southern Alps by virtue of three viaducts of impressive proportions, and nineteen tunnels, one of which is over eight kilometres long. The rivers are mostly unattainable by road, so well worth the dollars.
The route crosses the Canterbury plains, stopping at a few stations where there are no barriers, no staff, no platform, no signs – except the faded, peeling name on a clapboard hut. Some of these are in small towns, straight off the street. Even in Christchurch, we got off the train onto a grass verge well behind the platform (no good for limited mobility passengers) and straight into the car park. Security? Er – none. During the eight hours, we experienced sunshine, fog, rain, sleet, rain, drizzle and dusk. In Greytown, we scuttled down the High Street under the shop awning, gulped down a fair tomato and basil soup, squinted at a few sights, before gratefully hunkering back on the train. Seeing the gorges, chasms and feats of engineering in reverse order is just as impressive, with the added bonus of the rain clearing as we crossed from west to east – the difference between 5-7 metres per annum and 0.3m.
Back in town, the sky was clear with a lovely long evening sunset as we sat in a prime spot on Cathedral Square to catch the last warm rays to dry out the damp of Greytown, with a stylish risotto and battered grouper and chips, washed down with a couple of the many excellent NZ beers. Just vacation!