Train journeys and my favorite town in New Zealand

We were all quite happy to leave Auckland a few days ago and set out on our epic rail journey. The train through the North Island travelled across some pretty nice territory (I've completely lost track of which of these were taken by Margaret, and which by me):





We spent the night in Wellington, where we met up with my buddy Cass (whose version of this journey can be found at her blog). She, Margaret, and I were all surprised and delighted to find out we'd be on the same ferry in the morning, the same train the next day, and the same train the day after! (Which means, for you, that if you don't like my photos, you can go look at hers.) We didn't see much of Wellington, but we had no time for dismay over that, because here is just a sample of how cool the ferry journey was:





As beautiful as that was, the train journey south from Picton to Christchurch was even moreso, although I was somewhat camera'ed out by then (as you can see by the fact that I ceased being bothered about the quality of the photography):




The next day we ate breakfast at a very American-style breakfast place — started by an expat American couple from Iowa, in fact, some unknown number of years ago. I've posted a photo of it because some of my DC buddies, familiar with an alias (a screen name, as it's known now) I used to use in the early days of BBSing, might find it amusing.



And then — and then — the astounding train journey over the mountains! Here are a few pics:






(Note to Cass: I have two shots of the Cass Commemorative Pink Shed if you want them. Note to everyone else: "Cass" refers not only to my friend, but to a tiny village in the most melodramatic part of the mountains; I'm aching to organize a writing/arts retreat there.)

The train passed through an eight-kilometer (five-mile) tunnel, and burst out into rainforest. The far side of the mountains is the weather side, so it's infinitely wetter, greyer, and greener. As Cass points out in her blog, though, still very much worth a look. Eventually the train pulled into Greymouth, which was, as the name suggests, grey (although it's actually named for the Grey River). Cass's blog has shots of it, as she spent the night there, and we spent only about 40 minutes. Then back over the mountains — no less riveting for seeing them a second time — and into Christchurch.

The next morning we had a few hours before our plane was to take off, so we wandered around a bit. I love Christchurch. After the very-nearly-incredible bland nastiness of Auckland, Christchurch's whimsy, quirkiness, and beauty was like a good meal when you had been led by experience to expect, frankly, sawdust. (I'm sure Auckland has its good points. I just don't appreciate what they are, is all.) Here are a couple of pics:




(If you want more photos of Christchurch, you can go here or do a Google image search.)

During our rambles, we went to the quite good Canterbury Museum, which we loved — particularly a temporary exhibit called "DaVinci Machines": working models of a bunch of inventions from DaVinci's notebooks. Way cool!

Then it was on the airplane and back to Sydney. The next day (my mom and niece's last full day in Australia), I took them to the Nan Tien Temple and the Kiama Blowhole. Beautiful day for it, too — bright sunshine, which was perfect for both sites (the Blowhole in particular was dazzling with rainbows and brilliant white spray).

Today I drove my mom and niece to the airport for their return journey.

I am now sad.