However, today the dark rocks were baking in the heat against a fiercely blue sea and sky, and although foaming, angry waves crashed far beneath us, the blow holes hardly murmured, occasionally sighing and breathing out a hazy cloud of iridescent moisture. It seems that the sea has to be at high tide or really rough to produce the water jets one sees on the postcards. A backpacker sat on a clump of grass, strumming a guitar, and children rushed along the paths, as their parents patiently gathered around the blowholes, cameras ready. Sunbathers, already blistered and lobster pink, draped themselves over rocks. Back at the road, there is a tourist information centre and the obligatory row of shops and souvenir stands.
Palm trees give a rather tropical feel.
Ah well Arthur's Pass is the highest of the Southern Alps passes, the quickest way from Westland to Christchurch, and moreover, the only road crossing north of the Haast Pass, hundreds of kilometres to the south. It is also a spectacular trip, although as the driver, I had precious little inclination to view the scenery. We heard West Coast people refer to the trip to Christchurch as 'going over the hill'. This turned out to be extremely euphemistic, and we weren't prepared for the steep, twisting road, sheer drops and corkscrew bends near the summit of the pass. This was the first route to be opened up over the Alps to the West Coast, constructed in under a year during the heady days of gold fever in the 1860's.