Road to Invercargill (October 15-16)

The Southern Alps were disappearing behind us as the landscape spread out to lush rolling farmland and pastures.

View from McCracken's Rest

The driver of an approaching vehicle waved his hand out the window signaling for us to slow down - gosh we weren't speeding! But soon we understood. Around the next bend, a large herd of sheep filled both sides of the road. What are we supposed to do? Mike pulled off to the side and we both jumped out of the car to watch the scene.

Apparently the sheep were stalling out because of the 3 cars on the road. The farmer was calling and whistling to the sheep dog, across the road a neighbor was shooing the sheep from the gate at the front of her property, Susan was attempting to be helpful by occasionally clapping her hands when sheep with panicky eyes moved in her direction, and Mike was behind our car shooting pictures. What a wonderful wooly mess! The farmer called out to Susan to move our car farther off the road because it "was holding everything up" so Mike sheepishly (groan) moved it behind a group of mailboxes. The sheep finally made their way down the road, and so did we.



Click here for larger images with captions.

We opted not to stop at Lake Hauroko, New Zealand's deepest lake, or the Giant Tortoa tree in favor of getting in early at Invercargill. We did stop at McCracken's Rest, a lovely viewpoint over the ocean, beaches, and mountains.  From here we caught our first glimpse of Stewart Island. Our lunch spot was Mrs Clark's Cafe in the heart of historic Riverton, New Zealand's oldest European settled town. It was impossible to miss the brightly painted old building! Our server insisted we head back and drive up to The Rocks, a wonderful little coastal drive we would have otherwise missed.

Ian and Jenny, our Bushy Point homestay hosts

As we neared Invercargill, Susan was reading about birding spots in one of our library books and noticed Bushy Point just a few kilometers away from the town center. It was privately owned and a good spot to see fernbirds. Interesting. Even more interesting, the owners also ran a homestay, or at least had done so at the time the book was printed. We stopped at the Invercargill iSITE and learned that Bushy Point Fernbirds was still operating, got the address and decided to try our luck and pop in without a reservation. It was on the way to the airport, then south through some suburban residential areas, then became more rural as the road turned to unsealed. At the very end of the road we found the address we were looking for, 197 Grant, where we were greeted by a pair of Welsh Corgis, Rocky and Meg. We met Ian in the driveway he invited us into their home where a room was available for the night. We jumped at the opportunity.

Ian gave us the overview of the bush walk that he and his wife Jenny had developed, or should I say un-developed, over the years. As the progressively taller layers of native coastal vegetation were removed by humans, the tallest windswept trees were exposed to the full brunt of the subantarctic winds, often causing them to die. Bushy Point, privately owned but under the protection of a Queen Elizabeth II National Trust, is one of the few remaining coastal areas that contain the native succession of plant life inland.

The very informative and peaceful stroll through the bush with Ian pointing out native flora didn't produce any fernbird sightings, but the afternoon was beautiful and we enjoyed views back across to Invercargill and all the way out to Stewart Island. When we returned to the house, we met Jenny who had been out on her bicycle. Later in the evening we took another bush walk and this time saw several of the secretive birds, as well as a lovely sunset. More great conversation and a glass of wine with Ian and Jenny, then off to bed in our cozy room with original Rimu wood floors.

Saturday morning we didn't get out into the bush until after 10AM, after relaxing over a tasty continental breakfast which Jenny prepared. After Ian arrived home from work he joined us and we did see quite a few more fernbirds. Mike and I felt like we were really getting the hang of this. After a coffee break we went out again without our hosts for a last try to see the curious little birds. I don't mean that they look curious, they *are* curious. Unlike all other birds that we are aware of, the fernbirds are attracted to noises and movement and come around to have a look when you walk by. Ian and Jenny had shown us that normal human speech can attract them, as well as mimicking their call. But you don't get long - once they peek from the bush to check you out, they are usually off again straightaway. They don't fly as much as scoot around near the ground, but a few times we did see their short flight above the jointed rushes and Mike captured their body position in flight in an unusual ethereal photo.

With a new appreciation for the coastal native bush, we lingered until almost 2PM when, armed with a stack of info on the Catlins and some road snacks from our generous hosts, we said our goodbyes and headed down the road.