Sarah WallockI woke up in a rainstorm, in my sweaty car, with sandflies buzzing inside my ears wondering how the queens of #vanlife Instagram pages sell the image and the lifestyle. The #vanlife babes and bros are a free-spirited ideology. On one hand, the hippy campers seem like a distant dream. On the other, they’re quite proximate, as the van babes and bros are my close friends here in Queenstown! If they can do it- wake up looking fabulous, cook a full-blown gourmet meal in their vans, and make other cool friends on the road- why can’t I?
Scarfing Down a Home-Cooked Breakfast
From the lovely campsite at Lake Paringa, Nick and I drove out to Fox Glacier, sandfly bites and all. After ditching the impending rainstorm and our camp stove and raw eggs, we ordered barista-made chai lattes and eggs benedict at the Cafe Neve. They were all sorted to serve my gluten-free dairy-free needs. We had no problem licking the plates clean! With food in our systems and no sleep in our bodies, we debated hiking the Fox Glacier track. The rain was just too heavy.
A Dip in the Glacier Hot Pools With the Local Daycare
From Fox Glacier, we shot over to Franz Josef through the wet and mystic rainforest. Meanwhile, I texted a friend from the Helicopter Line to see if there were any last minute spaces on a helicopter. Immediately, she booked us in for a flight. After that, we headed to check in but the dramatic weather took over and the flight got canceled. Nick and I didn’t mind so much. We were happy to have a chill day. We did slightly wish we could have seen a glacier, or even just seen 10m in front of us! “We’ll definitely have a Franz Josef reunion tour,” I thought to myself that morning. I just didn’t know when.
Luckily, the 600-person town of Franz Josef has prepared itself for bad weather days. By prepared for bad weather days, I mean, they have hot pools. Great solution in my book! We popped into the Glacier Hot Pools and got ready to soak. The pools were as hot as 40 degrees, which was very pleasant. While we were soaking, there was a mommy & me children’s group singing “Mary Had a Little Lamb” in the next pool over. Furthermore, I wouldn’t say it was a particularly relaxing experience. Pretty cool spot for a children’s group though! We tested the 40, 38 and 36 degree pools and enjoyed the morning soak. Eventually, we got back on the road.
Welcome to Hokitika: The One-Street Wonder
Above all, we had been looking forward to visiting Hokitika due to the famous blue colored gorge. The rain continued to pound down. Finally we arrived in the lauded Hokitika. I could tell this was one of those New Zealand towns that are charming in sunshine, yet questionable in showers. Hokitika fit the profile for a classic NZ shit town. Shit Towns of New Zealand is a famous Facebook page/book that slanders kiwi villages and cities. Here is a part of their description of Hokitika, that isn’t far from the truth:
Famous for massacres and stolen pounamu, Hokitika has recently been flooded by a horde of ‘lifestyle migrants’ seeking to prepare for the looming post-apocalypse by living in conditions similar to those after a nuclear explosion. Hokitika is a perfect example of what New Zealand might look like after a mushroom cloud.
Shit Towns New Zealand
After looking like lost wet dogs sauntering around the one and only street in Hokitika, we found Stella Cafe. The vibes were warm and welcoming. For just a short minute, we felt like we were in Wellington or Christchurch. The coffee was good and food was enjoyable. We sat looking at old maps and magazines and watched the rain ease to a trickle. We really took advantage of the cheap seats and we weren’t the only ones.
A Strange Arrival at the Sea View Lodge
After that Nick and I meandered over to check in at the Sea View Lodge. It was the best campsite in the area according to our CamperMate backpacker’s app. In a similar vein, All Brawn and No Brains reflected about the advertisement for the Sea View when she wrote about Hokitika in 2017:
Sea View, located on the top of a hill, was a $15pp campsite with incredible facilities. Warm showers, an indoor dining and living room with views of the sea, power and a fully equipped kitchen made this place too good to be true.
All Brawns No Brains, 2017
Like my fellow blogger noticed in 2017, there was not one sign that things were about to get really weird and really creepy…
After a long day of traveling, we arrived at a decrepit old building with the paint chipping off. It reeked of mold and cigarettes. We entered a janky old living room and called a number posted at reception. A scrawny man hobbled over to reception with his scruffy little dog. There was a sign at reception with the dog’s name and instructions on how to interact with it… odd. Everything felt a little off, but definitely not unmanageable. We paid $15 each, checked in and drove to our camping spot.
Hostel or Former Insane Asylum?
As we approached the communal kitchen, we could see other parts of the decaying buildings from a better angle. We entered the building. At first, we thought it was an old school house. Very soon after, we realized it was an old mental hospital. By “old,” I mean it was an active hospital in 2009, a short 12 years ago. The mismatched carpets and random furniture had a strange look to them.
The Preserved Hospital Scene
We walked in and opened one door after another entering different sections of the building. There was a young boy eating french fries standing in a long corridor. To one side there was a room that presumably this kid’s family lived in. To the other, I kid you not, there were life-size human dummies positioned in a hospital scene. There was a “patient” dummy wearing scrubs, lying in a hospital bed, and attached to a catheter. A”nurse” dummy was treating the “patient.” A bookcase of creepy dolls looked onwards. Medical trinkets were sprinkled all throughout the room. Right away, I whipped my head back to do a double take because I simply couldn’t believe my eyes.
Afterward we turned around another corner and there was a dorm room. Instead of beds like in a regular hostel, there were sheets separating the room into sections. There were tents on the floor like a refugee camp. People had definitely been living there.
Holding Our Breath in the “Shower”
Not wanting to shower in a plastic prison bathroom, we exited the first building and headed out to try our luck in the second. A man greeted us in the kitchen with a warm smile that stretched out his chin tattoos and offered to give us a tour.
The first stop was the “party room.” This was a black cave filled with a smoke cloud with a pool table in the middle. Next he guided us to the “shower.” This was a windowless cage with a shower head, toilet and sink all squeezed into one moldy square. Again, we paid to stay at a communal hostel and camp ground. Yet, when he showed us his wife’s kitchen, and his family’s half-used shower products, it started to feel like we were intruding on his family affairs. After our steamy and uncomfortable shower, we packed the car. We didn’t want to risk waking up in the middle of the night to someone creepily standing over our car with expired medical instruments…
What Others Have Said About Sea View:
It was like being on the set of an apocalyptic horror movie. Feeling jumpy, I was fully prepared for some hoard of zombies to emerge after suffering some freak accident in the asylum… I was compelled to get out as soon as possible.
All Brawns No Brains, 2017
Granted that this site does have a great Seaview. But that’s about it. Appreciate it’s an old psychiatric hospital, but the sites full of decaying buildings, poor facilities and a real feeling of disgust. $75 NZ dollars for one night powered campsite – what a joke. Would have had to think twice about staying here even if it was free. Strongly suggest you avoid and visit one of the other holiday park campsites nearby which are much nicer and cheaper!
ccffoulkes, TripAdvisor, 2020
An Unpredictable Turn of Events
Freshly showered, but maybe actually dirtier than before, we headed down to the only open restaurant in town for dinner. It was Monday night and Stumpers was poppin’. Not surprisingly, every hungry tourist on the West Coast was at the same place at the same time wanting the same whitebait fritter. We enjoyed a delicious lamb salad and fish n’ chips, as the whitebait had sold out. Over dinner, we questioned where to sleep that night.
Should we: be scared and uncomfortable near a haunted mental hospital? Or should we fall asleep to the lull of a river at a DOC campsite? The choice was easy. A nearby DOC campsite it would be! Ah just $8 each for a few more sandflies buzzing in my mouth and getting to sleep by a river. At this rate, I was basically excited to meet-up with my sandfly friends again.
Out of nowhere, my phone then rang and one of my friends back in Queenstown was calling. “Sarah, you need to come back for an interview at 12pm tomorrow. I am serious, this is an opportunity you cannot pass up…” Hm, 7.5 hours south. Let’s weigh our options here: Option 1: stay at the mental hospital in Hokitika. Option 2: stay at the river campsite outside Hokitika. Option 3: sleep in my own bed with a new mattress and potentially get a job that allows me to stay in New Zealand longer… I think you know which one I chose. Time to download some podcasts.
The Wet Coast Living Up to its Name
The rain continued to pour down and we headed south from Hokitika. We had Haast plugged into our map for our first stop, about 4 hours away. My stomach began to churn as rain storm warnings flashed over the MetService for heavy rain warnings south of Hokitika. Two hours into the drive, the rain was so violent we could barely see… Each time we drove through a puddle the Green Machine skidded right and left. We were about 30 minutes away from Franz Josef and both agreed sleeping in the car wasn’t an option. What hotel reception would be open in little Franz Josef past 9pm? A hotel open for booking in a 600-person town on the West Coast, in a rainstorm, at night, on a Monday, what are the chances…
I called one of the hotels in town. A nice lady picked up, told me reception had indeed closed but she could still offer us a room. She didn’t have anything available at the affordable hotel I had called but she would put us up at the “sister hotel.” I envisioned a cozy kiwi grandma jumping out of her bed in pajamas to come save us from our reality and let us into a B&B. Anywhere with a roof and a bed would be just perfect.
Living Like Kings
Turns out the sister property was Te Waonui Forest Retreat, a luxury hotel and one of the nicest hotels on the West Coast with rooms at over $600 a night. We walked into the property and transported into a lush paradise. The instant relaxation contrasted from the fear and anxiety that our accom had provoked just a few hours earlier. The lady from the phone wasn’t a grandma but a well-dressed girl about our age who greeted us with a huge smile. She gave us the same rate that she would for the room at the affordable hotel and checked us in.
My dream of staying in a rainforest treehouse came true.
Wait… What Just Happened?
Never did I expect to be traveling back to Franz Josef the same day. Nor did I expect to check in to a drug den, then upgrade to a luxury resort in a matter of 4 short hours. Oh the contrasts. We scampered up to the room like kids in a candy store.
We sank into our individual queen beds and listened to the rain kiss the roof of the hotel. What a day it had been. After scrabbling from Lake Paringa, sandfly heaven, to Franz Josef, getting and then not getting a heli ride, so then dipping in the hot pools, to Hokitika, checking in to a mental hospital and having some fish n chips, and then arriving back to Franz Josef, at possibly one of the most unique luxury stays in New Zealand, we were feeling simultaneously knackered and grateful. Grateful for each other, for having a sense of humor and for a nice cuppa. I cuddled the soft possum pillow in my bed and sunk all the way in. The sound of the rain hummed us to sleep.
And if you’re wondering, I got the job.
If you want to hear about other instances where Nick and I have accidentally stayed at homeless shelters or drug dens (that were advertised as “hostels”) stay tuned for my next story.
