Travel Series: West Coast, New Zealand
- Maddy Dunn
- Feb 21
- 7 min read
From the first time I arrived in New Zealand, I was blown away by how the country has it all. Mountains, ocean, rainforest, countryside, high-desert, deep valleys and rivers. If you were to drive from the East Coast of the South Island to the West Coast (on average a 5 hour drive from any point), you would most likely see all of this.
Last week, Ronan, Logan and I drove from Kaikoura on the East Coast to Westport on the West Coast. We split up our drive into two nights so that we could go easy on Homy and so that we could really enjoy the scenery. On our way there, we took Lewis Pass via the inland route connecting to Highway 7 then eventually on to Highway 69. Below are some views from the road:
The beginning of the drive consisted of farmland, green rolling hills, and too many sheep and cows to count. As the road slowly got windier, the hills began turning into mountains. By the time we reached Waiau, a small town with an advertisement as you exit saying “last food and petrol for the next 90kms,” we were in the high desert mountains. From here, we followed the Waiau Uwha River up the valley eager to find a campspot near the river. During a quick stop at a potential camp, I noticed blackberries off the side of the road and harvested them for a road snack. As we kept driving up the valley, we eventually met the Hope River. Here, we finally found a decent looking spot just off the road by the river.
Ronan and Logan are both from the East Coast of the states so mountains like the ones we were surrounded by was something quite special. Not to say I didn’t feel the same – it was more just a sense of nostalgia from the rivers and mountains in my home state of Idaho. Granted, as I’ve always said, New Zealand is like home but on steroids. Any who, my point is that we were all eager to explore the river. Below us were two flyfisherman backed by a massive granite cliff and who were casting into a pool so blue it could be mistaken for powerade. We walked upstream to where we found ourselves speechless as we glanced at the vast open valley with not a soul in sight. I felt the cold fresh water run through my toes and the dried up glacial debris crunch beneath my feet. We spoke about the beauty of being humbled by the mountains and how good it feels to feel small.
By the time we made it back to the car, there were too many sandflies to ignore. For those who have not experienced New Zealand sandflies, keep it that way. Someone once explained them to me as "vicious creatures that will slice you open and suck you dry.” They are small flies with bites that initially feel like a mosquito bite but two days later swell up twice as bad. Sandflies suck, literally. To be fair, we were parked in a shaded area by the river – one of their ideal locations. We decided our image of camping by the river might not be worth the annoyance so we jumped in the van and left. Twenty minutes down the road in a gravel lot with a bit more elevation and wind, we hoped this would be good enough to rid the buggers. We made a quick meal with minimal sandfly invasion but by the time we had done the dishes, they were everywhere. They were swarming our feet, filling the van, and buzzing by our faces. Hundreds. I’m not one to get freaked by bugs, but this was another level. Again, we packed up and moved. As we pulled up to a final campspot, we knew we had some fly elimination in our future. We quickly set up a tent for Logan and wished him goodnight. Ronan and I then came up with our tactic to mass murder these flies. Shining a light on the roof of the van, they gathered together – so many that you could hear the flies hitting the roof like raindrops. Luckily, our execution worked. What a welcome to the West Coast.
We arrived in Westport the following morning. Westport was established in 1861 during the goldrush era and is the oldest European settlement on the West Coast. Today, the best part of Westport (from our professional opinions) is the West Coast Pie Co. I’ve had my fair share of meat pies (New Zealand’s delicacy) during my time here and the Wallaby Steak from this place was the second best I’ve ever had. A must go if you’re ever in Westport.
Back to the story… We were delighted to find Tauranga Bay, a lovely beach with a decent wave and boulders along the left side of the shore making a perfect viewing point for me. We spent the next few days around the area. While the boys surfed, I enjoyed a short section of the Kawatiri coastal walk that connects Westport to the town of Charleston, 40kms away. Additionally, the boys kept busy by harvesting mussels for our dinner and building a shelter from the endless driftwood on the beach.
After a couple nights in Westport, we headed to the town of Charleston. This town was a favorite not only because of the irony of the name (Ronan’s hometown and where all of us met) but also because of the exploring we were able to do. First, we spent an hour or so exploring coves that were filled with sea creatures and colorful stones. Then we scoped out a beach on the river that, as we came to find, led to cliff jumping and eventually to the ocean. Ronan and I noticed after our 15 minute swim through deep brackish water that there were eels six feet long and as thick as a bread loaf swimming beneath us… We ended the day with a short surf and found a nice camp near the ocean (despite needing to stay inside the van to avoid sandflies).
The following day we headed farther South to Punakaiki. Punakaiki is a tourist destination known for its Pancake Rocks – layers of limestone and mudstone that were compressed 30 million years ago which resemble pancakes. Although they were cool to see, it was the surf that really brought us here. The boys paddled out off the rocks as I filmed, nervous as these were the biggest and meanest waves we had seen so far. After finishing their session, we headed back up North. Our goal was to get half way to the East Coast that night, as the swell that we had originally chased to the West Coast now seemed better on the East.
I encouraged us to take an alternative route back to Kaikoura. This time, we drove farther North towards the Wairau River via Highway 6 and 63. We planned to eat dinner somewhere on the road. Just before the sun went behind the mountains, we parked up above the river for some bratwursts and veggies. It was an eat and run type of situation – we were at our wits end with the sandflies. We left in a hurry with an hour left of driving before camp. As we winded farther East, the clouds slowly lit on fire. It was one of the most beautiful sunsets any of us had seen, so much so the boys went silent and weary eyed. We soon arrived at our camp for the night – a pulloff above a dam. I think the boys were irritated with my choice because, and I’ll admit, it was a very creepy dark arrival. However, we woke to a peaceful reservoir. I went on a run for the first time in a week, rinsed in the water, and we were off to Kaikora.
Ronan and I have two tiffs. One is who gets to drive and the other is who gets to cook. He likes to do it all but my stubbornness and inability to be useless won’t allow it. I got my way this morning and was the designated driver. We drove through more vineyards than I knew was possible for one valley. Our drive was soothing and lovely until we reached the coast in Blenheim. My driving only lasted so long as we had now driven into the strom that was bringing the swell. I passed over the driving to Ronan as I was too scared of the wind. It ended up being one of the scarier drives of my life. Ronan white knuckled it through wind that caused trees to lean sideways. After the longest hour and a half I have ever felt, we arrived back in Kaikora.
We were rewarded by a beautiful point break. That was until Ronan realized he had left both of the boys' wetsuits at the pull off where we had dinner the night before. A silly mistake. Luckily, this was once again an easily fixable problem. Because Logan had to be in Christchurch the next day, it wasn’t worth the drive back. Ronan bought them new wettys and by 2pm they were surfing. And it was Logan’s best session of his trip.
Our journey to the West Coast tested our limits for sure. The rugged terrain was beautiful and endearing but simultaneously required a lot of driving and was hard on Homy, leading to some added stress. We dealt with a lot of wind and didn’t really find the waves we were looking for, but enough to scratch the itch. And most notably, the sandflies that will be in my nightmares forever. It’s funny how the not-so-perfect parts are what make journeys so memorable.
So, if you ever decide to go to the West Coast of the South Island in New Zealand, be prepared for the most sublime of views and the most annoying of flies. You’ll remember it forever.
All for now,
Maddy
February 21, 2026 - Written by Maddy Dunn
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