Scouted Trips

People and Places

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Exploring Ōamaru: Blue penguins, cheese rolls and an untouched historic quarter

The Wairarapa might be best known for its wining and dining but, as Peter Dragicevich discovers, the pinnacle of its greatness can be found down a rocky valley – off the beaten track yet strangely familiar.

Ah, Martinborough, how we adore your silky pinot noir and your cutesy village vibe. Each of New Zealand’s wine regions has its own distinct appeal, but for sheer ease of access and visitor friendliness, it’s hard to beat this boutique beauty.

Here, the surrounding countryside is gloriously flat and, with upwards of 40 top-notch wineries encircling the town’s perimeter, it’s by far the most bikeable of the nation’s appellations. Weekends see an inundation of tipsy two-wheelers tootling between the cellar doors, many of whom were wobbly to start off with, having only distant memories of childhood paper runs and the folk wisdom that no one ever forgets how to ride a bike to keep them upright.

Even as grand colonial projects go, there’s something preposterously self-indulgent about Martinborough. Not only did Sir John Martin name it after himself, he laid out the town in the shape of a Union Jack and plonked an English-style village green in the centre of it. Yet for all that bombast, the man himself was hardly boisterous: during his long stint on the Legislative Council, he was dubbed the “silent member”, having only spoken four times in 14 years.

However, it wasn’t wine or colonial curiosity that brought me to Martinborough this time around. My real goal was the Putangirua Pinnacles, a geological oddity that has featured prominently in the films of Wairarapa’s most famous resident, Sir Peter Jackson. Although Sir Peter has yet to name a town after himself, he’s not averse to a little preposterous self- indulgence, as demonstrated by his wonderful collection of WWI planes, artfully displayed at the Omaka Aviation Heritage Centre in Marlborough. He has also reputedly recreated aspects of Middle Earth on his 20ha estate hidden in the Wairarapa hinterland.

My real goal was the Putangirua Pinnacles, a geological oddity

With an invitation to visit not forthcoming and a childhood obsession with The Lord of the Rings barely suppressed, I was hankering for the next best thing: a walk along the foreboding Dimholt Road to the Paths of the Dead, aka the Putangirua Pinnacles.

“If you’re going to head that way, you may as well make a day of it,” advised our local informant, general manager of Luna Estate Melanie Phillips, whose wine-tasting counter we were leaning on at the time. “Continue on down to Cape Palliser and drop in on the seals along the way. Oh, and check out the Lake Ferry pub too.”

Although I suspect my travelling companion may have been just as happy returning to the Luna cellar door for more wines with Mel, the following morning we duly threw our hiking gear into the back of the car and hit the road. Heading south from Martinborough, Lake Ferry Road passes through a patchwork of farmland before reaching the turn-off to Cape Palliser Road, which winds down to ruggedly beautiful Palliser Bay. Shortly afterwards, signs point inland to the DOC-managed Putangirua Pinnacles Scenic Reserve, nestled on the edge of the vast Aorangi Forest Park.

From the carpark, it’s possible to follow the stream – actually more of a trickle when we visited – along a rocky valley directly to the Pinnacles and back (which takes roughly 45 minutes each way), but we decided to clear some calories for further wine tasting on our return by taking the 4km loop route. 

After about 10 minutes, we branched off on the Ridge Track, initially disappearing under a canopy of cabbage trees, ponga and mānuka, heralded by tūī fanfares and the thunk-thunk of passing kererū. As we climbed up to the ridgeline, the views opened up towards the ocean, with the South Island a distant smudge on the horizon.

A little less than an hour after setting out, we arrived at a wooden viewing platform that provides an overview of the Pinnacles themselves. This is just a teaser, really, as the full impact of the Pinnacles is better experienced by walking through them. However, from up here you can get a clear idea of how they were formed. These structures – known as “hoodoos” or, in America, “badlands” – are created from vertical erosion. Each has a capstone that holds the pillar in place while the surrounding gravel washes away. Eventually, the stone itself will be dislodged and the pillar will collapse, widening the valley a little further.

From the platform, the track heads steeply down to the start of the Pinnacles valley, where you can stroll between the stone columns and explore craggy crevices on either side of the main route.

Sir Peter’s connection to the Putangirua Pinnacles started far earlier than The Return of the King. This otherworldly landscape featured as Skull Island, the source of the zombie-inducing rat-monkey that kicked off such a kerfuffle in his 1992 gorefest Braindead. Sir Peter clearly associates the Pinnacles with menace, but walking between these extraordinary structures, all we felt was awe and a heavy dose of film-induced déjà vu.

Returning to the car, we took Mel’s advice and continued south along the coast. This stretch is home to the North Island’s largest seal colony, and it’s not hard to spot New Zealand fur seals lounging around the rocks. 

Chances are you’ll smell them before you spy them, but take care not to get too close (DOC recommends keeping at least 20m away, if possible), and avoid getting between them and the sea. Once their escape route is blocked, they’re liable to charge you, and they can move unexpectedly quickly if they’re feeling threatened.

The colony is at its busiest between November and January, which is the main breeding season. After that, the deadbeat dads abandon the rookery, leaving the new mums to give birth and care for the pups on their own. 

The road continues through Ngāwī – notable for its row of rusting tractors lined up ready to haul fishing boats ashore – before it comes to an abrupt halt at remote Cape Palliser. 

Stairway to a heavenly view from the lighthouse at Cape Palliser.

This southernmost point of the North Island has a real end-of-the-earth feel. It’s possible to walk the 250 nearly vertical steps up to the candy-striped lighthouse but, after our earlier exertions, neither of us was in the mood. Neither did we continue on the designated walking track through Māori land past the point, as recommended by the very helpful staff at DOC’s Whakaoriori/Masterton office – that’ll be top of the list when we return. Instead, at this stage of the day, we both had one thing on our minds: the Lake Ferry pub.

The Lake Ferry Hotel is one of those classic rural pubs elevated to near iconic status by its extraordinary location. Sitting on the terrace, glass in hand, gazing over Lake Onoke is about as close to peak Kiwi-ness as you can get. The food is hearty and substantial too, perfect for the end of an exhausting but highly satisfying day. 

We may have blown the calories we’d reserved for indulging in more Martinborough wine, but you can rest assured that any such qualms were quietly shelved when we returned to town.