New Zealand > The Marlborough Sounds

We wake up in the upgraded cabin. In terms of space, it’s not any bigger, but we do have our own shower and toilet, which is much more convenient. We have breakfast in the communal area. We’ve brought bread, cheese, coffee, and orange juice. Late in the morning, we start the walk to the lookout point. Linley warns us that the trail is steep and that, because not many people do the hike, the path might be overgrown. We ignore all the warnings and turn down the offer of walking sticks. We’ll see how it goes. The trail is indeed steep, but it’s easy to follow. The higher we get, the more beautiful the view over Marlborough Sound becomes. The walk turns out to be easier than expected.

New Zealand - The rugged shapes of the Marlborough Sounds

After an hour and a half, we’re back. In the afternoon, we split up. Allert goes to film the sounds with his drone. I take a mountain bike and ride to the other side of the bay. Here lies the wreck of a ship from 1880. The Amokura once served as a ship in the Persian Gulf. In 1922, it came to New Zealand and was used as a naval training vessel. In 1953, it was towed to the Marlborough Sounds to be scrapped. This never happened, and the ship slowly decayed in the bay. Linley apologizes, saying that cyclists in New Zealand are required to wear a helmet. She also warns me about loose gravel, cars cutting corners, and reminds me to keep to the left. She might be a bit overprotective, but she means well. I set off. Fortunately, the road follows the coastline and doesn’t climb too much. When it does go uphill, I quickly have to shift into my lowest gear. After half an hour, I reach a beach and ride my mountain bike over the pebbles. Omer Beach, a little further along the route, is according to Linley the most beautiful beach in the bay. It’s hidden away. Carefully, I ride the bike down to the beach, which offers a lovely view over the bay.

New Zealand - The wreck of the Amokura was abandoned in 1953

In the distance, I can already see the Amokura wreck. I ride a bit further, park my bike on the beach — I wasn’t given a lock, and it’s probably not needed. Our own cabin doesn’t even have a key; all the cabins are simply left open. It’s wonderful that this is still possible here. I walk along the beach to the old ship. It can only be reached at low tide, and since the tide is already coming in, I have to hurry. The ship is larger than I had imagined. A man speaks to me: “Did you walk here from Hopewell?” he asks. He saw me earlier talking with some Americans. He’s here on a fishing boat and tells me about the ship’s history. A woman fishing nearby joins the conversation — she’s from Queenstown. It’s funny how open and friendly everyone is. I leave them and reach my bike before the tide comes in. I cycle back to the lodge. In the evening, we have a reservation for dinner at the nearby Raehiti Lodge, a five-star resort about a ten-minute walk from our own. We end the evening on the veranda of our cabin with a glass of wine. The temperature is much more pleasant than yesterday — unfortunately, the mosquitoes think so too.