The Hidden Lakes in Te Anau, Fiordland. Photo / Jessica Wynne Lockhart
Jessica Wynne Lockhart discovers that Te Anau isn’t a stopover, but a destination in itself.
It’s time. Our captain spins his finger in the air and I’m quick to action, gripping the heated handrail tightly. Beside me, my friend Maddie does the same. Then, we’re spinning and swirling, smashing against one another in the boat. I can’t seem to control my laughter, which bubbles up and escapes from my throat.
When I told Maddie, who is visiting from Australia, that I’d planned an action-packed holiday for us on New Zealand’s South Island, I’m sure she imagined we’d be bungy jumping in Queenstown or kayaking beneath Milford Sound’s waterfalls.
Instead, I’ve brought her to Te Anau, where we’re cruising down the Waiau River towards Lake Manapouri with Fiordland Jet.
Adrenaline-pumping adventure probably isn’t the first thing that comes to mind when people think of Te Anau. Personally, I’d always thought of the town as nothing more than a service station stop on the way to Milford Sound, or the departure point for the Kepler Track. That all changed when I visited for the first time two years ago. Immediately, I was blown away by Te Anau’s backdrop: massive flowering cabbage trees fringed a lakeshore that extended far into the distance, while mountain peaks towered beyond. Everything was awash in shades of deep blue and green.
Yet, I still did exactly what most visitors do — I barely gave the town a cursory glance. Its only real purpose was a place to eat and sleep before my day trip to Fiordland National Park. Locals, though, were quick to tell me that I was missing out.
“There are parts of Lake Te Anau that look just like you’re cruising across Milford Sound,” Douglas Thorne, a tour guide with family-owned Trips & Tramps, told me.
He was letting me in on a secret that Southlanders have known for generations: Te Anau is one of the country’s best outdoor holiday destinations. Just a two-hour drive from Queenstown, the region offers serene bush-clad coves, hidden lakes, incredible fishing, and countless walking and cycling paths.
After our jet boat ride, Maddie and I try out one of the newer offerings; the 28.5-kilometre Lake2Lake Cycle Trail, which links Lake Manapouri to Lake Te Anau. On e-bikes, it doesn’t take long until we’ve passed the lake’s control gates and arrived at the edges of town. So, we take our time, wheeling our way around the Punanga Manu o Te Anau/Te Anau Bird Sanctuary, where we spot takahē chicks in their enclosure.
The bird sanctuary has long been one of the town’s top attractions. So, too, has Fiordland Cinema. The boutique movie theatre was purpose-built in 2004 to showcase Ata Whenua – Shadowland, a sweeping 32-minute film about Fiordland National Park, narrated by Sir Tipene O’Regan. But that doesn’t mean Te Anau is trapped in time — there’s plenty of room for innovation and newcomers. One of the town’s most popular food trucks, Ditto, now has a permanent restaurant where it serves Asian-inspired street fare (including bao buns and sushi bowls) that could easily put some Auckland eateries to shame. And this summer, the Black Dog Bar in Fiordland Cinema started serving crayfish canapes alongside its cocktails, making it one of the only places you can taste the export.
During our time in Te Anau, we also discover that it’s possible to have a true Fiordland wilderness experience, minus the crowds clambering for cruises in nearby Milford Sound.
Or at least that’s the case when we climb aboard Faith, a historic sailing ship built in Scotland in 1935. It’s just us and one other couple on the three-hour tour with Fiordland Historic Cruises. Not only are we able to move freely around the boat’s decks, but we’re also active participants. Maddie sits at the helm wearing a supplied captain’s hat and guiding us towards our destination, while I help to hoist the sails.
We glide across the water towards the South Fiord, where we disembark and start our walk towards the Hidden Lakes, a scattering of about a dozen small kettle lakes sheltered in the native bush. As we walk, I consider what Thorne told me years ago.
Does Lake Te Anau look just like Milford Sound? No, but it doesn’t need to. It’s not a matter of comparing and contrasting; it’s a matter of recognising that both are destinations in their own right.
The next morning, the sun is just cutting across the horizon when Maddie and I begin making our way back to Queenstown so she can catch her flight back to Sydney. On our way, we pass dozens of packed coach buses, all en route to Milford Sound. For them, Te Anau will be nothing more than a rest stop.
Poor tourists, we agree. They have no idea what they’re missing.