Is it just me, or does it smell like eucalyptus?

All good choices

Our first steps on Kiwi soil were the morning of Monday August 25th after a 12 hour plane ride from Los Angeles. By a neat trick of the international dateline, it was still Sunday afternoon in Portland. Needless to say, it took a few days to get our sleeping and eating figured out. By another neat trick, it is late winter verging on a beautiful spring here, chilly mornings and early nights, and gloriously sunny days. So whilst we were finding our veggies and oatmeal and blinking sleepily by 5pm, we were hankering for some exploring.

Andy, God bless him, intrepidly planned our first major foray on the Metro, the public bus system here, which turns out to be fantastic. He plotted our route into the Port Hills south of town. I'm still learning about the geology here, but I'd just like to say that on our little hop from Auckland (on the North Island) to Christchurch (about midway down on the east side of the South Island), I saw more mountains than I've ever seen at one time, stretching west into the horizon and north and south as far as I could see. So the terrain here is pretty magnificent, with the "Southern Alps" in the interior of the island, stretching down into hills and valleys and fjords and sweeping bays of all kinds as go you toward the coast.

Lyttleton Harbour within the ancient volcanic rim.
Christchurch is just to the North.
(For a larger view, you can click on any photo)

The Port Hills are part of an ancient volcanic crater rim just to the south of Christchurch, enclosing Lyttleton Harbour. Andy planned a route for us between two rest houses called the Sign of the Takahe, and the Sign of the Kiwi. Both these are part of a Summit Road conservation project lovingly championed by a New Zealander named Harry Ell, born in the latter half of the 19th century. Thanks to his vision, these breathtaking Port Hills and their vistas are protected green spaces, with miles upon miles of "walking tracks" (or hiking trails as we would call them), and these old stone rest houses, still closed from the earthquakes in 2010 and 2011 (more on these in a later entry).

View from the Takahe:
The Canterbury plains with the Southern Alps in the distance

Having spent all week in very urban parts of the city, it was quite literally a breath of fresh air to be hiking up those hills. There is a viewing point at the Sign of the Takahe where you can see all of Christchurch laid out in the Canterbury plains, out to Pegasus Bay and the Pacific Ocean, and into the moutainous interior. It was so stunning - with so many shades of green, and the clouds casting here and there shadows across the sweeping landscape - even the kids were awed.

Another view from the Takahe:
These green hillsides were so inviting, Josie wondered
if we could find them and walk on them.

Then after some help from a local cabbie, we found our way to the path leading up to the Sign of the Kiwi, through forest in parts, sometimes with more of that magnificent view as our walking companion. This walk was a delight in so many ways, but two vividly stand out to me even now.

One, the sounds! An astounding number of the birds here are unique to New Zealand, so everywhere I hear them, I am enchanted. Listening to them as I'm waking up, or as I'm walking about town, I instantly feel transported to a tropical island somewhere (not so far from the truth, after all). Andy said it's like being in the bird room at the zoo. Very much so... I hope to soon find a way to record some of the birdsong and share it here.

A New Zealand fantail
(with thanks to Wikipedia)

And even though his call isn't particularly remarkable, one of these little fellows came and danced with his tailed all fanned out in the bushes right next to the trail as we walked past. (Here's a link to a page with a little video of them.) It was so eye-catching and at the same time intimate, I felt like I had just stepped into a frame from one of those nature shows, really a magical sense of having dropped right into the "Life of Birds" for example, live. I guess it was one of those moments when I realize that all those extraordinary things I've heard about or seen on TV are really happening somewhere on this amazing planet.

Okay, so I mentioned two stand-out things from the walk. The second was more subtle at first. As we got a little higher into the hills, a couple neurons fired in my brain and I asked out loud, "Is it just me, or does it smell like eucalyptus?" And then I looked up, and sure enough, there was a stand of eucalyptus trees reaching up to the sky with their lanky and fragrant bodies. From that point I noticed more and more of them, and between that gentle waft of eucalyptus, and the scent of the fresh bushy pines, and the mountain breeze, I honestly think I was breathing in the sweetest smelling air I have ever had the pleasure to partake of.

Lyttleton Harbour as seen from the Sign of the Kiwi:
There is something about the shape and color and feel
of this landscape that makes my heart sing!

By the time we reached the Sign of the Kiwi at the crest of the hill, where you can walk 30 paces from the view on one side and those sweeping Canterbury plains, to the view down into the Polynesian-feeling waters of Lyttleton Harbour, I was in love with this place, thanking God and the Earth for this gift, and Andy for the momentum to get us here!

Until next time, warm wishes for your own adventures! (Or as they say here, cheers!)