
Home > New Zealand > Fiji and New Zealand > Travelogue day 26
December 28 2018 February 2 2019 (39 days)
The weather forecast for the helicopter trip to the Franz Josef Glacier is not very good. Cloud cover and light rain are predicted on the glacier this afternoon. We will be notified by email if the trip is canceled. As we eat a simple breakfast on the balcony of the Treehouse, we haven’t received any message yet. Pieces of blue sky are cautiously breaking through the clouds. Fingers crossed! At the Pancake Rocks, a few kilometers further on, the sun even comes out. The waves crash against the layered rock formations, and sometimes there are holes in the slate. The seawater churns up through these holes with each wave—a beautiful spectacle. After the Pancake Rocks, we head toward Franz Josef. It’s over a three-hour drive, and if our helihike goes ahead this afternoon, we need to be on board the helicopter by 12:30.
We follow the coastline, with waves lapping against the rocks everywhere. As we move more inland, the road winds through the mountains. Progress is slow because of all the curves, but the views are amazing. With about an hour left to Franz Josef, we receive the message we were dreading. Due to strong winds on the glacier, the helicopter trip cannot take place. What a disappointment! We decide to go by the helihike ticket office anyway. Today’s flights are canceled, but we can book for tomorrow morning at 11:30. The girl warns us that the weather forecast for tomorrow is not ideal. If we go by helicopter at 11:30, we will only leave for Queenstown around four o’clock. That drive will certainly take five hours. We accept a late arrival in Queenstown. First, we’ll see if the trip goes ahead. We have lunch at a restaurant opposite the ticket office. Just outside the village, there is a walking path to the lower reaches of the Franz Josef Glacier. This is the only place where part of the glacier can be seen; accessing the ice itself is only possible via helicopter. From the parking lot, we walk toward the glacier. Along the way, signs show how far the glacier once extended. It’s bizarre to see how much the ice has melted. Nowhere is climate change more visible than at glaciers. The signs link this retreat to the growing human population. Since the 1960s, humanity has more than doubled, and industry has adapted accordingly, ultimately contributing to rising temperatures. From the viewing platform, we can see the glacier’s terminus. Heavy clouds hang above it. It’s a shame the sun isn’t shining; the ice would look more impressive. In fact, it even starts to drizzle lightly. We walk back. Even if we cannot access the glacier tomorrow, at least we’ve seen it. Just past the Fox Glacier, a second glacier in the area, lies Lake Matheson. On clear days, both Mount Tasman and Mount Cook are reflected in the lake. Although the weather is far from clear and the mountains are hidden in clouds, we still take a walk around the lake—a bit over an hour. We pass through a strikingly green forest. Moss covers the trees, and there is dense low vegetation between them.
Under the trees, I don’t notice that it has started raining again, but I realize it as soon as we walk along the lake. The reflections are barely visible. Back at the visitor center, we order a drink and dry off a little. Returning to Franz Josef, we do some shopping—it’s good to have supplies with us if we need to drive straight through to Queenstown tomorrow evening. Then we check in at our hotel. Outside, the rain is now falling heavily, and large puddles form on the streets. When we go out for dinner in the evening, it is still raining. Right next to our hotel is a cozy, busy restaurant. Braving the raindrops, we walk over. Even when we go to sleep, it is still raining. Will it be dry tomorrow?