We meet Sally at Christchurch Airport. There is nothing subtle about her. Brash and vivacious, she’s also ‘look-at-me’, fire engine red.
A rented Mustang, we’ve got ‘Sally’ for our road trip to Dunedin and neither Gus, my 13-year-old, or I can contain our giggles. I start her up with a throaty purr.
We assuage our gas-guzzling guilt with an eco-friendly activity to begin our adventure. A salty breeze rolls in from the nearby New Brighton beach – the perfect conditions for sailing. However, rather than ocean we’re on concrete, helming Velocity Blokarts. I slide into my tiny three-wheel cart nervously. There's nothing between my elbows and the rough tarmac. But, after a safety briefing – ‘if in doubt, let go of the rope!’ – and a few tentative loops, soon we're sailing. Gus laps me grinning and zipping around the circuit, occasionally on two wheels.
The new and hyper-colourful mini golf bar Holey Moley in central Christchurch is a teenager’s dream. With 18 indoor holes themed around retro pop culture – from Connect Four to The Simpsons and E.T. – it’s as photogenic as it is fun. Each hole is like a miniature movie set and the staff are dressed as caddies in lurid plaid. We putt through wind tunnels amidst whirling dollar bills, past hobbit holes and beside giant teddy bears.
The Simpsons couch at Holey Moley Mini Golf in Christchurch. © Jo Percival
The next morning, Sally hungrily gobbles up the long straight stretch of highway between Christchurch and Geraldine. Flat and agricultural, we fang past stock trucks and bread trucks and utes, thrust back into the dense leather seats with each burst of acceleration. Gus practices his maniacal villain laugh.
Barker’s Food Store is the flagship shopfront for Barker’s of Geraldine – the stalwart producer of jams, chutneys, sauces and syrups. We sample the wares in the café and carry a clinking bag of glass jars and bottles back to the Mustang to stock the pantry at home.
In an industrial area on the outskirts of Tīmaru I get the opportunity to confront my ornithophobia. Never a fan of birds, getting up close to native raptors is a daunting prospect. Gus, however, is frothing with excitement. The New Zealand Raptor Trust was established in 2016 by avid wildlife photographer Ron Lindsay to help rehabilitate injured birds of prey. We learn about the different types of native raptors, including harrier hawks and little owls, as well as the endemic kārearea, New Zealand’s critically endangered falcon.
Getting up close with Tom at the New Zealand Raptor Experience, Tīmaru. © Jo Percival
“Would you like to meet Tom?” Ron asks. I gulp. Gus nods vigorously. From a small box, Ron lifts Tom, a female harrier hawk, blinking in the fluorescent lights. She gazes haughtily at us, one eyebrow lifted above her piercing yellow eyes. We mustn’t touch her, she’s too much of a diva, Ron explains, but she will happily climb onto a gloved arm. Tom flutters and unfurls her wings, but rather than alarming, I find that it’s quite a privilege to be in proximity to such a wild and beautiful creature.
Driving south, the sea is a strip of teal against a steel horizon, but all around is yellow – fields of canary-coloured canola, blooming gorse bushes and the occasional blaze of kōwhai.
Detouring off SH1, we head to the small town of Waimate to meet marsupials. Bennett's wallabies were introduced to the region back in 1874 when someone thought it would be a good idea to start a fur trade. But the population inevitably exploded and today wallabies do significant damage to the native environment. But not at EnkleDooVery Korna Wallaby Park. For 46 years Gwen Dempster-Schouten has been hand-rearing orphaned joeys and offers self-guided tours of her wallaby enclosures. Before entering, Gwen advises us to wash our hands – wallabies don’t like the taste of hand sanitiser – and gives us the rundown on wallaby etiquette.
Friendly wallabies at EnkleDooVery Korna Wallaby Park, Waimate. © Jo Percival
“Get low when you approach the wallaby so you’re not intimidating,” Gwen says. “Then offer them some food pellets and ask ‘would you like something to eat?’” It’s important to talk to them, she explains. “If you want to pat them, move behind and scratch near the base of their tail, not on their chest or head.” Which is how Gus and I find ourselves squatting in a paddock having a chat with a pair of happily masticating marsupials. They are gentle, big-eyed creatures, well-accustomed to human company, and so well fed that many simply sniff our offerings then bound off across the paddock on their enormous hind legs.
Is there a town in New Zealand that embraces its heritage more than Ōamaru?
With its elegant stone architecture, Victorian vibes and lashings of Steampunk subculture, Ōamaru is a portal to the past. The epicentre of time travel is Whitestone City, an interactive museum with a penny farthing carousel, a Victorian dress up wardrobe and a miniature main street with replica shops. We learn about the history of Ōamaru, through its cycles of boom during the gold rush followed by tumbleweeds brought on by the temperance movement of the early 1900s. As the most debt-ridden town in New Zealand with no meaningful use for the grand grain store buildings, Ōamaru became frozen in time for the next 50 years. Which was, of course, the saving grace that preserved its heritage and character.
Outside Steampunk HQ in Ōamaru. © Jo Percival
At Steampunk HQ, we step into an actual portal. A dazzling cupboard of lights, mirrors and ethereal music, The Portal is a magical, fantastical interpretation of a journey into another realm. The realm of Steampunk. An alternative reality supposing time stopped in the Victorian era and technology never evolved past steam power, Steampunk HQ explores the folklore of this crazy science fiction world. Robots sit alongside gnarly taxidermy. A window in the floor reveals a mad scientist’s dungeon. The claustrophobia and creepiness ramps up as we squeeze through a dark tunnel of black rubber flaps to emerge, hearts racing, in the yard. Here the rusting wreckage of train carriages and decomposing diggers have been re-purposed with a Steampunk twist to become interactive art.
Continuing south, we trace the edge of another disarmingly beautiful canola field, vibrant against an early morning blue sky. We pass a farmer who gives us a bemused wave and swivels a full 180º to watch Sally’s fiery flanks pass by. We are not in incognito mode.
We arrive at Orokonui Ecosanctuary north of Port Chalmers just in time to watch the birds having breakfast. A 308-hectare predator-proof sanctuary, Orokonui is home to over 250 species of native flora and fauna. We follow winding tracks through the bush to sit quietly beside feeding stations and watch the frenzy of birdlife jostle for sweet nectar.
Rainbows at St Clair, Dunedin. © Jo Percival
The road to Port Chalmers coils over the shoulders of the hills. We take a stroll around the seaside town, pretending we’re Victorian sailors freshly stepped ashore. Port Chalmers is much quieter today than it would’ve been at its boozy, bustling peak in the late 1800s, when all of the stone pubs and hotels were brand new.
Skirting the edge of Otago Harbour, we skip through the city to the southern seaside suburb of St Clair. Waves slosh hypnotically at the waterfront promenade and the air is thick with salty haze. Offshore, surfers bob like flotsam, and dog walkers run the gauntlet of high tide spray. Just before the sun sets, a glorious double rainbow emerges over the horizon – more vivid yellows, pinks and reds to bookend our colourful journey.
Story by Jo Percival for the Autumn 2023 issue of AA Directions magazine.
Thanks to Hertz for supplying the Ford Mustang for this road trip. Mustangs are available to rent from the Hertz Adrenaline Collection.
Find more things to do in the South Island while you're here:
- Find 16 Kiwi Gems in Canterbury that you've probably never heard of
- Explore Olveston, the historic home in Dunedin that was way ahead of its time
- Dive into Christchurch City with this indulgent long weekend itinerary
- Discover six fun things to do in Ōamaru and the Waitaki District
