Towns
The Coldest Town In New Zealand
Saturday, June 20th, 2009Curiosity is a great motivator, and when applied to travel it can provide the reason for some interesting journeys. My desire to find out why it gets so cold in Ophir took me on one such journey to a starkly beautiful and somewhat chilly place.
Ophir, in the south of New Zealand, is a tiny town which holds the record for the country’s lowest temperature. On July 3rd, 1995, a low of -21.6°C broke the previous record, which was also held by Ophir. I was travelling in New Zealand during that memorable winter, and my curiosity was aroused - of all the cold places in New Zealand, why did Ophir break the records? I had to find out.
At first it seemed straightforward. Ophir’s inland location in Central Otago gives it a drier climate with clearer skies than elsewhere in New Zealand. Add a valley location and sparse vegetation to a modest bit of altitude (298m) and you have the ingredients for extreme cooling on calm winter nights. But while great cold could be accounted for, it didn’t explain why Ophir gets colder than other towns in the area which share a similar climate.
I had a perfect excuse to indulge in a style of travel that could be described as “investigative exploring”. On my most recent return to New Zealand, I headed to Ophir, and on a morning when a brass monkey might have lost a ball or two, I scraped the ice off the car and set out to satisfy my curiosity.
A good look at the topography revealed what I think sets Ophir apart - not only is it situated in the mother of all frost hollows, but a little down from the town stands a group of hills which cross the valley and must surely obstruct descending cold air. The river has cut a channel through, but for cold air the hills could act as a crude dam, with Ophir at the very bottom of a what becomes a huge cold air reservoir.
I also learned that morning fog or low cloud in the area sometimes blocks the sun and minimises warming after a frosty night. If repeated over several mornings, the cooling is intensified.
Having satisfied my curiosity about Ophir’s microclimate, I drove around and enjoyed the beauty of sunrise on a crisp frosty morning. I then satisfied my appetite with a magnificent cooked breakfast at the pub in nearby Omakau, and reflected a little. Investigating climatic extremes is obviously not to everyone’s taste, but I’d found that the quest to satisfy my personal curiosity had led to a journey more rewarding than merely going where the guidebooks suggest.
Topics: New Zealand (south), Towns | Add Your Comment »
St Bathans - Ghost Town With A Non-Human Tour Guide
Monday, March 16th, 2009
St Bathans is an old gold mining town in New Zealand, and with a population these days of only seven (or five) it is often referred to as a ghost town. I enjoyed being shown around this charming place by a guide who wasn’t human … but it’s not as it sounds. My guide had fur and four legs, and was a dog named Jack.
Visiting St Bathans took me to the remotest corner of the Maniototo region, a part of New Zealand’s south island which is somewhat “out of the way” as far as tourism is concerned. It lies between Queenstown and Dunedin, but most of the traffic passes far to the south. The resulting lack of crowds, especially in winter, seems so appropriate for a ghost town.
On parking the car - you need your own wheels to get there - I was met by the friendly face of a dog who appeared pleased to meet me. When I walked up a hill to get a good view of the area, the dog playfully followed. I spent a while checking out Blue Lake, the result of a 120m hill being dug away by miners to leave a 68m deep pit … which then flooded. When I returned down the hill, the dog led the way.
For the next little while I wandered around the leftovers of what was a bustling town of 2000 gold miners back in it’s heyday, after gold was found in the 1860s. Everywhere I walked, this companionable dog led the way, anticipating where I would go next. I got the sense he had accompanied many visitors before me!
St Bathans has a good selection of old buildings, six of which are registered by the NZ Historic Places Trust. Built of wood, stone or mud brick, many are well preserved while a few are in varying stages of falling down. The old schoolhouse, church and graveyard are particularly ambient, and some of the stone cottages on the main street are quaintly attractive.
Being surrounded by hills and mountains serves to heighten the sense of isolation, in both time and space. St Bathans can be even further removed from similarity to other New Zealand towns if you visit in winter, when lakes in the area may freeze over, and snow sometimes lies on the ground. Remnant snowpatches, solitude, deserted old buildings, and no sound except the wind whistling in the trees … all can combine to create an eerie atmosphere.
Eventually the dog led me back to the historic Vulcan Hotel, which has been operating since 1882 and is still a great spot for refreshments, and also offers accommodation. It was there I learned that the dog’s name was Jack, and that I was by no means the first to enjoy his company on a tour of his town. While Jack rested outside, I rested inside and chatted to one of the few residents of this distinctive area.
If you’re into historic places which have retained their authentic charm, without being “developed” into big attractions, a wander around St Bathans - with or without a canine guide - is worth the effort of getting there.
Links:
Google map showing St Bathans location
Topics: New Zealand (south), Towns | Add Your Comment »
Tranquillity in Thredbo?
Monday, February 23rd, 2009
Most people who visit Australia’s classiest ski resort, Thredbo, wouldn’t describe it as a quiet village. That’s because most visit in the ski season or the summer school holidays, when the place is packed. However, if you visit in the off seasons, Thredbo is the epitome of a tranquil mountain village.
In winter, snow draws skiers and snowboarders, and the youth hostel where I stay runs a ballot system to handle the demand for bookings. The hostel can also be full in summer - all the money spent on developing and marketing Thredbo as a summer destination seems to have worked very well.
Late spring is a different story. Once the ski season finishes (by early October), and until the summer school holidays start (around Christmas), it can feel like you’ve got the village to yourself. Facilities are still open, but the crowds are absent and the atmosphere is relaxed.
I spent a few weeks in Thredbo one November and had plenty of room to move in the youth hostel, which was about 10% full and felt friendlier than when busy. You can’t get lost in the crowd when there’s only a handful of you! Getting a table at any of Thredbo’s numerous eateries was no problem, and the village’s residents and staff seemed to engage more with visitors - a task made easier by more manageable numbers.
The quieter periods in the village also correspond to the most pleasant walking conditions in the surrounding alpine areas, which are easily accessed using a chairlift which runs all year. Summer hiking can be beautiful, but spring hiking has great wildflowers too, plus fewer march flies. Another plus is more snow remaining on the higher peaks - not enough to interfere with walking, but enough to enhance the views or play around in.
Autumn in Thredbo probably enjoys the same relaxed quietness as spring, but I haven’t been there in autumn myself to check it out. If anyone reading this has, feel free to add your comments.
So if you’re looking for a peaceful mountain village to unwind in, far from the bustling crowds, don’t dismiss Thredbo … as long as you avoid the madness of ski season or summer holidays, tranquillity can be found.
Links:
Thredbo village website
Thredbo YHA hostel
Topics: New South Wales, Towns | Add Your Comment »


