Salt in our hair once more.

A first attempt at penguin spotting on Banks Peninsula was unsuccessful—as it should be. Instant gratification doesn’t do anybody any good. That doesn’t mean, however, that we didn’t find it immensely gratifying to spot the rare Hector’s dolphins – one of the smallest dolphins in the world, highly endangered and strictly Kiwi – and the even rarer Māui dolphin – apparently less than 50 left – during our wildlife boat cruise amid the volcanic splendor of Akaroa. From there, we continued our journey to Ōamaru, a town famous for its “whitestone” Victorian architecture and present-day “whitestone” art, its exceptional cheese, grumpy Ian, and its thriving Blue Penguin colony.

The Ōamaru blue penguin arena consisted of grandstands on either side of a patch of green, which abruptly turned into a steep rocky slope, all the way down to where the ocean waves crashed ashore. In the middle of the green, two fat fur seals lay snoozing, totally oblivious to their surroundings, sending wafts of rather disgusting body odor toward the gathering of people in the grandstands. Along with over a hundred tourists, we chose to ignore the stench and craned our necks instead—binoculars in hand—eagerly awaiting the spectacle to unfold. And sure enough, as the sun went down, dozens of little blue penguins emerged from the waves, hopping onto the rocks, scrambling over the ridge, and waddling across the green on their wobbly path toward their burrows. They looked like a parade of wind-up vintage plush toys, so endearing. Knowing they had spent the entire day fishing, it was deeply satisfying to watch them arrive safely home again for a good night’s sleep after a hard day’s work. Too cute for words, really.

Cruising along the Pacific Coast down south, we savoured the views and the salt in the air. From the Moeraki Boulders – those crazy mud spheres scattered across yet another endless beach , how bizarre – all the way to the Otago Peninsula, in search of the Royal Northern Albatross and the hoiho, aka the yellow-eyed penguin. The albatrosses we saw soaring higher and higher in the sky until they were the size of a gull and one we watched crashland head over webbed feet on his nest on a webcam. But the huge fluffy white chicks – the wildlife guides had us hold a plush specimen to better appreciate its size and weight – , we could clearly admire through our binoculars. We are big fans of seabirds. And we have just only recently learned they are all equipped with a desalination plant implanted in their skull and tubes in their nostrils that drain the salt. But only the albatross has a wingspan of over 3 meters which allows it to fly from New Zealand to Chili in a week. Which it does. It would take O2 two months.

And then there’s the hoiho – the yellow-eyed penguin and New Zealand bird of the year – who we met in a bird sanctuary at the OPERA (The Otago Peninsula Eco Restoration Alliance) We did hear one screech in the wild during our guided walk which caused human whispers of excitement. “Hoiho” means “noisy shouter” in the Māori language. We on the other hand had to keep quiet and make ourselves scarce, or we’d risk scaring the poor bugger off. Its habitat is already in peril, no need to make it worse. It is one of the rarest penguins in the world. And it is a very beautiful one.

What makes it even more amazing is that just around the corner from all these natural wonders lies Dunedin – a different kind of marvellous. Dunedin – “Edinburgh of the South” and a UNESCO Creative City – isn’t shy to show off its museums, libraries and art galleries, its street art, its university, its music scene, its writer’s walk, its Fringe Festival and its eateries and bars. Moreover, the fact that Belgian street artist ROA created one of Dunedin’s first pieces of street art in 2014 – a massive tuatara, a weird lizard-like reptile native to New Zealand – made us all the more excited to go check it all out. We took a 3-hour stroll through the city to discover the most amazing murals and sights. And we can confirm : Dunedin has a lot of swag and attitude.

We are now on the road again towards our most southern point of return, The Catlins, while in the meantime, autumn is slowly advancing, and sheep are getting shorn.