Saturday 02 February

Lyell, Buller River Valley
It's been quite a day today. The campsite was quite noisy last night, lots of people there so parking was quite close and we were close to the communal BBQ area where people were talking until well into the small hours.
We were off to a fairly early start, heading due north, up the west coast. It was a spectacular trip, we climbed up to 500 metres, curving and winding between high mountain sides. The rocks rose almost vertically from the side of the road, and were completely covered in ferns at a lower level and then dark, dark trees stretching high above us. Then we dropped to sea level and hugged the coast, flood plain stretching away from the road. This gave way to a beautiful beach, gentle surf rolling in to meet the dunes.
We missed the turning to the Opara Basin, an area of Karst scenery so we carried on to the DoC Campsite at the end of the road where we intended to spend a couple of nights. However the moment I stepped outside the car I was besieged by sand flies, covering my legs faster than I could spray the insect repellent on them. There were lots of people camping there, this is a long w/e, Monday and Wednesday of next week are national holidays so many people will take Tuesday as well for a long break. We spoke to someone staying there who said that last night they had been very bad. We decided not to pitch there and retraced our footsteps to the Opara Basin turn-off and followed the track to the Arch, a colossal limestone feature, where the river has carved through the rock. The walk there was stunning (I don't know how I can find some new vocabulary, I think I am going to be saying stunning and amazing quite a lot over the next few weeks) through scenery which was reminiscent of tropical rain forest, huge trees covered in epiphytes, and creepers, water oozing out of rock faces overhung with ferns, mosses and lichens.
Over a Vegemite sandwich, a concession to our Kiwi friends and a newly acquired taste, we decided to abort staying at the coast and move inland to what looked like a nice DoC site  close to an old gold mining settlement. So here we are at Lyell, it is an open field, unlike the other DoC sites we have stayed on, but very nice. Unfortunately a cross country cycling event has been taken place here today and the long drops have been very 'used'. Still, we only want to poo in them and the rest of the site is lovely. We cooked corn cobs, and lamb steaks (a bit fatty for John, I end up eating most of his as well as my own, I think we need to stick to beef), and sweet potatoes in the fire, with a tomato salad, delicious. We walked into the surrounding bush and followed signs first to a river valley where the people had prospected for gold, evidently you can still have a go, you never know your luck. Then we climbed up to the old cemetery, a lovely walk past a beautiful waterfall, the water flowing over ferns and between rocks. The cemetery with its old graves and remaining headstones was poignant and evocative. One grave, where the woman had died on January 12 1872, had the remains of fresh flowers on it. Someone had made a pilgrimage.
Now we are back at the camp and the sand flies. They are horrible. They are about the same size as a Fungus Gnat, hardly any bigger than Fruit Flies, but they have the bite of Horse Flies and draw blood. We are wearing long trousers tucked into socks and long sleeved tops, but they are seeking out my face and hands. We met somebody who had camped where we had intended, by the sea, who said that you couldn't breathe in without swallowing loads of them. I'm glad we didn't stay, I am just about coping with then here. It is so unfortunate, this beautiful country with such a scourge in it,s most spectacular area. I fear we might be forced into ticking off the must-see sites and heading off somewhere else, to the East Coast.