Tekapo sunny, peaceful, and calm; Pukaki awe-inspiring and grand—but they lack the charm of chalet and pine tree, of vine and meadow, which so adorn the shores of the Swiss lakes.
The immediate vicinity of the road is uninteresting, except from a geological point of view, for it winds about amongst old moraines, whose vegetation consists almost entirely of the brown tussock grass so general in the South Island.
Yet the geologist or student of glacier phenomena can read on the surface the history of the formation; roches moutonnées abound, and, in places, old moraines are spread over the bed rock for miles together, whilst erratic blocks are dotted about in various directions, evidencing how extensive has been the action of the ice in ages gone by.
Though the scenes contiguous to the road may fail to charm the eye, the distant panoramas of the glorious Southern Alps cannot fail to draw forth expressions of wonder from the most callous observer. As the Hermitage is approached, and the great peaks and glaciers draw closer and closer, the marvellous grandeur of the chain is gradually realised.
The sight of the reflection of Aorangi in Lake Tekapo, on a calm morning, is something to remember for a lifetime. The subject has long been a favourite one for brush and pen, but no one yet has done it justice.
A substantial bridge spans the exit of the Tekapo River, but only a ferry stage exists at the Pukaki River where it leaves the lake. A wire rope, 450 feet long, is thrown across the stream, to which the ferry stage
