The ridge-top road winds its undulating way through a patchwork of paddocks and a sparse human population. Otago Harbour is a long ribbon of silky-smooth water far below and Dunedin City, the 'Edinburgh of the South' nestles in its green belt against a dramatic backdrop of forested hills.
Birdsong resounds through the beech forest and occasional gaps in the foliage reveal the deep blue waters of a glacial lake and a breathtaking backdrop of snowy mountains, draped in forest to the 1,000 metre 'bushline.'
Travel anywhere in the Taranaki region and you will have the constant presence of this striking, dormant, strato-volcano (also known as Mt Egmont). From most scenic viewpoints the old volcano appears as a perfectly symmetrical cone, tapering to a 2,518 metre summit in the classic style of Japan's Mt Fuji.
Drive along Lake Pukaki's shoreline and you will be impressed by its pale glacial blue colour. On a sunny day the sky will be a contrasting deep blue and at a certain turn in the road the huge white bulk of the Cook Range will suddenly be revealed.
The tour coach zig-zags down into the depths of the Cleddau Canyon and turns under a dense canopy of rainforest into the village at the head of the sound. Across the silky-black waters, a sharp-edged pyramid of rock rises abruptly out of the depths and soars 1,700 metres to a conical peak that appears to pierce the sky.
Ease your kayak around a bushclad headland and drift silently under overhanging branches into a secret cove. The dark green foliage of the forest is reflected in the calm, clear water, and streaks of sunlight seem to dance over the ripples from your wake.
Sit awhile on the willow-fringed shoreline in Wanaka township and soak up the view. Crystal clear waters lap the pebbly shore and take on a deep blue hue further out, dramatically reflecting a dozen snow-capped peaks in the Mt Aspiring National Park.
The rush of white water is mesmerising. It is impossible to discern a pattern in the heaving, roaring maelstrom, but the sheer power of 400 tonnes of water per second cannot be ordered or contained.
'Thar She Blows!' The cry goes out and our cruise boat heads off in hot pursuit of a broaching sperm whale. The skipper adroitly positions the vessel parallel to the mammoth creature, staying the mandatory distance away.
Massive sand dunes stand solid and unmoveable against the terrible onslaught of pounding seas. The dunes rise up from the harbour entrance like miniature mountain ranges, painted a brilliant golden hue by the sunlight.
