With a single leap, the penguin vaults onto the beach. Another one hops out of the Tasman Sea’s roiling surf. Hop two three four… soon an entire group of Tawaki penguins is marching across the rocks. “Don’t they look comical!” whispers John. I nod. It’s raining buckets, but squatting near the ground here at Munro Beach. I’m as happy as a clam. The glittering forest exhales cottony clouds, and for the first time today the sun comes out. No question, things are very wet on
Mosses, ferns and creepers proliferate. There are raging streams, tranquil pools, swamps and lagoons. It all started with a telltale shimmer. For it wasn’t natural beauty that drew the first settlers to what was then an extremely remote coastline. Gold once drew hordes of fortune-seekers to New Zealand’s southwest coast. Eventually the rush petered out, leaving behind municipal layouts straight out of the Wild West. Sleepy villages with windblown hovels and simple, functional buildings, here and there a colonial villa and a welcome shot of art deco. In tiny Makarora, not far from the roadway’s summit, intrepid adventurers can hop into a Cessna or a helicopter and be whisked to a remote valley. A diverse range of extreme sports is on offer here. The region surrounding the booming
Between Lake Wanaka and Lake Hawea, Highway 6 passes through Glen Dene Station, the huge ranch belonging to Richard Burdon: 9,700 sheep and 438 cows graze on 6,000 hectares (14,825 acres) of land. Once again the weather has turned, and a storm is brewing above the hills. “I can certainly use the rain,” notes Burdon, “it’ll get the clover growing.” Medals adorn the walls of his corrugated metal sheep-shearing hut. Burdon’s sheep produce high-quality Merino wool. “Merino heats or cools, depending on what you need it to do at any time,” explains the farmer. “Over the past few years, everybody around here has started wearing wool again when they do sports.”