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ROADTRIPCLOCKWISE FROM LEFT: Pudgy mountainssouth of Queenstown; the route's humblebeginnings; McLean Falls in Catlins Forest Park.NEXT PAGE: A grim memorial; taking a break.up a languorous incline that followsthe coast just outside Orepuki. It’scalled McCracken’s Rest and it marksthe extreme south-western pointof New Zealand’s highway system.This is neat, but the real attractionis the view it affords over the wildocean waters of Te Waewae Bay.I hang around a while. The lonetraveller on the lone road, sombrelyreflecting in dusk’s hazy glow, lookingfor answers in the ocean’s endlesshorizon. But then a truck roars pastobnoxiously, breaking my reverieand signalling it is time to crack onto Invercargill before the southdrowns in deep stouty darkness.Leaving Invercargill is glorious.This is no slight, but rather commentthat day two of my journey is anabsolute beaut. The beaming whitesun illuminates the landscapebrilliantly and I wonder if the bitinglybrisk air is somehow accentuatingthe light. The farmlands zippingpast the window are a lush, vibrantgreen, and are filled with whitemarshmallow sheep that look likethey’ve just been dropped into a bowlof lime jelly. It’s an incredibly pleasantsegue into the windy mountains ofthe South’s famed Catlins.After falling victim to some typicallydry Southern humour at New Zealand’sQUEENSTOWNTE ANAUWANAKAGOREINVERCARGILLSTEWART ISLANDCATLINSCROMWELLDUNEDINSURAT BAYOAMARU“The place feels old,exotic, strange. Andnot at all how NewZealand usuallyfeels. It is unusuallydisconcerting.“very own Niagara Falls, I driveover to the neighbouring Curio Bay.From a hilltop vantage point, I watchfrothy white breakers lash violentlyat the rocks, flip-flopping bunches ofthick murky seaweed around witheach pounding. Up here the heavyair is thick with salt and wind and,although I know it will be much worseat the bottom, I decide to venturedown to the shore to see some ofthe Bay’s attractions.Having no idea what a petrified forestlooks like, it comes as a surprise torealize I’m standing in one and notjust on loggy looking rocks. The forestpiques my interest but I'd clambereddown to the shore to try and spot theyellow-eyed penguin colony thatmakes its home in this part of the bay.During my descent there are plentyof instructional, bossy signposts (‘Donot approach’, ‘Keep distance’), so myhopes of seeing this rarest of speciesare high. And sadly misguided.After scaling and slipping overslimy rocks for a spell, then sittingquietly for a bit, my disappointmentslowly grows as it dawns on me thatI won’t be seeing dickybird. I get up,slip again, and leave.There’s no more dismal a sight thanwhen you’re sat in the driver’s seatof a brand new Motorsport BMW X3,cruising happily along the open road,and you see a sluggish logging truckup ahead, wheezing its way up asteep, windy hill. Rather than torturemyself by trailing slowly behindthe brute, I opt to leave the SouthernScenic Route to its mundanebusiness and go for a walk.At first you don’t notice the silence.Then all you hear is the ruckus. Birdschirping above, weird scurryingnoises deep in the thicket, thegentle crunch of your ridiculouslyinappropriate footwear on theloose gravel path, and an ominousthunder growing fearsomely involume with each step. It’s easy tolet your imagination run wild on thepath to Matai Falls. Aside from theobviousness of the walkway, the restof the surroundings look positivelyprehistoric or tribal. A chargingdinosaur or chucked spear both seementirely plausible. The damp hangsheavy, only the most determined ofsunbeams able to force their waythrough the towering canopy of thisregenerating podocarp/broadleafforest. There are two waterfalls tosee along this one path. Both arewww.aadirections.co.nz 57