The rocky cliffs of the West Coast are draped in dense forests, interrupted by the Southern Alps containing New Zealand’s biggest peaks, namely, Mt. Cook. It seems as though every hour or so, the scenery changes, with something new and spectacular to see. The Pancake Rock formations added a little mystery to the setting, while the Franz Josef and Fox glaciers were a stern reminder of the power and scale of our alpine surroundings. Throw in some beach sunsets and lake reflections, and it becomes difficult for the senses to keep up.
In my attempt to process the scene unfolding before me, what strikes me most isn’t necessarily one sight in particular. I’ve yet to think to myself that what I’m seeing is surely better than anything I’ve witnessed or experienced before. The mountains of Patagonia are more striking. The Whitsunday beaches more heavenly. The Swiss landscape a deeper green. The Amalfi Coast roads more precarious. What’s most baffling is that all of these almost-as-good landscapes were a part of a 3 hour drive down the coast. Not only that, there’s nothing particularly special about this given 3-hour stretch. Close your eyes and point to a place on the New Zealand map and odds are you’re going to find the same diversity of scenery within a 100 kilometer radius. Travelling New Zealand by car is truly the epitome of sensory overload. I can’t stop taking photos. It’s almost as though at this point I’m more irked that it’s even possible for one tiny country to contain this much geographic diversity and photo ops. Just stop it, already.
At some point, I’m hoping I find a long stretch of road, like I-5 carving its way up through central California, with nothing in particular to see but open space, where I can relax the senses for just long enough to exhale and mentally recover before arriving at the next panorama.
As it stands now, though, I’m not holding my breath…