This hike was something of a crucible for me. And I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. A highlight of my lifetime. I did not intend for it to stretch to 4 parts, but that’s where the Muse led.
I’ll wrap it up with this post so we can head down the west coast next time. You can read from the beginning here.
Lots of Footprints in the Sand
The hut at Anchorage feels like civilization after the solitary experience of the last 2 days. One can skip the water taxi and hike roundtrip from Marahau [Mara-how] in a single day so this is the most popular spot on the Abel Tasman Coast Track. There are plenty of amenities including showers, working gas stoves, and 32 bunks divided into 4 rooms.
After guzzling an entire bottle of the precious filtered water, I select my bunk room, freshen up, and go off in search of the warden. Rumor has it there are nice warm sleeping bags for loan. One of my roommates (Paris), joins me in the search since she has only a lightweight sleeping bag as well. But, no warden today. With the smaller room and additional bodies, this night should be more comfortable than last. I hope.
Party Hut
There are a lot of trampers here. Several Kiwi families, several on break from university, and a few between jobs on their working holiday visas. There’s one group of 8 nationals making their annual trek. They eat a better dinner than I’ve been cooking in the hostels and one of them packed in a bottle of port! Some people truly know how to live.
It’s a brisk day so many of us huddle around the fire in the late afternoon and into the evening. We share stories of our adventures in NZ and talk about where we are headed next. In an earlier post I wrote of being accused of being Canadian. Here, I’m accused of being German. Three times! (My borrowed backpack is made by Deuter.)
One of my roommates asks to borrow my plastic knife and I tell her she can keep it. You’d think I’d given her a piece of fine jewelry by her level of gratitude. Another poignant moment from such a simple gift that cannot be experienced in the hustle & bustle of modern life. There was also a family of 4 who were pleased with my gift of fruit bread.
I’m off to bed by 8pm. My 3 bunkmates, including Arthur, join me by 10pm. I’m not quite as cold as the night before, but the French girls snore.
Day 3: Anchorage to Marahau
The plan was to wait here at the hut for Tine. She was going to hit the trail early and we would hike to Marahau together. Given my lack of sleep and sore hips, I decide it’s better if I don’t wait until mid-day to begin my hike. I simply won’t be able to take any side trails for fear that we’d miss each other along the way.
And I am moving slowly. Luckily, this is the easiest hike of the 3. There’s one big climb up & out of Anchorage, but after that it’s fairly flat and no mandatory beach walks in the sand. I take my time, resting often. I run into Arthur several times along the way—he’s hiking through the bush instead of using the trail. He admits that he’s the fugitive the wardens seek.
Tine & I cross paths when I’m about half way out; she’s made two friends from Portugal. Not wanting to cheat her out of her full day’s hike, I encourage her to hike on with her new pals. She gives me the key to the van to make my wait more comfortable. I finish off the last of my cheese on schedule.
Farewell Abel Tasman
The last stretch into Marahau is flat as can be—a series of bridges over wetlands—but walking out feels like a descent.
Farewell Abel Tasman. And thank you.
Advice for Travelers
Go there now! Hike it. Kayak it. Ride in the water taxi. Just be certain to go.
Secure your water bottles.
Pack in lots of protein.
Take the high tide routes. (They have the best scenery.)
Wear your NZ Merino wool.
And watch out for the weka at the Bark Bay hut.
Life Shake New Zealand 