TRANZALPINE TO GREYMOUTH

Day 9. Fortunately when I awoke, thinking it was 5:45am, I was listening to my radio and heard it was in fact 6:45 am and the bus to take me to the train was due at 7:15. The holiday must be having a good effect in that I was oblivious, all the preceding day, of the fact that the clocks had gone forward one hour on Sunday am. So that's why the Scotland game appeared to be an hour late last night.
It was -1c andi rugged up suitably, despite the forecast of fine sunny weather for the rest of the day. The Tranzalpine carriages were smarter and more comfortable than I had expected and I even had a seat to my self, both ways.
It was not super slick in any way, even the commentary was homespun in style but it delivered more value for money in terms of comfort and magnificence of scenery than some really pricey offerings-although not comparable in terms of distance and mystery, it delivers more interesting scenery to the Kilometre than I saw on the Trans Siberian.







An unseasonable, heavy fall of snow had occurred overnight which made the high peaks and valleys enchanting and even more so as they struggled to break out of the mist. The whole route is a triumph of 19th Century railway engineering and bridge building across dangerous gorges.




There were stories of gold fossikers, the men who ran the Cobb and Co stage before the railway was done, the pub owned by 1870s Scottish migrants which offered beds abd possum pies. Then there was coal-in the 1890s-64 men and boys were killed in a mine explosion (of course there was an even more recent disaster due to gas, down near Greymouth) and today 10 trains a day comprising 30 x50 ton trucks of coal take loads to Christchurch for export as far as USA and Asia.
The trip took 4.5 hrs each way with just a one hour turn around in Greymouth-a sad little town. Reminded me of Cessnock in the Hunter Valley in the 1960s. Coming back the scenery was so different-warm afternoon sun had melted the low level snow and burned off the mist.







Sheep and lambs were evrywhere(there is a marketing push to sell Higher altitude bred Merino meat at a premium because it is more tastyl than the lowland variety. Some of the stations up here carry up to 13000 sheep. The Scottish pioneers must have really enjoyed this bounty compared with their politicallly adverse Highland homes. Passed a herd of Belted Galloway cattle to further confirm the Scottish link.
Back in Christchurch by 6pm-a trip I wholeheartedly recommend.