Further northwards we did continue, and stretches of sinuous, empty roads that appeared ceaselessly long, provided the perfect backdrop for the winding down of our South Island explorations.
The word ‘turquoise’ is defined in several ways, some describing the mineral, yet others describing the colour. Yet, it’s hard to consider “a greenish blue or bluish green”, or “a light to brilliant bluish green”, or “a shade of blue tinged with green” being even a remotely acceptable description for this:
The hue, seen above in Lake Pukaki, is also shared by Lake Tekapo, our next destination. Besides trick photography and/or some serious Photoshopping, I wouldn’t have imagined a colour like that to belong anywhere in nature, but enough staring and rubbing our collective eyes, and some more staring (and gulping fatly, and I admit there was some serious gurgling too) forced us to consider otherwise. All this disbelief, mind you, after having already read the Lonely Planet’s explanation for this colour – but, but… it was so ridiculously, unimaginably, weirdly blue!
“The blazing blue turquoise colour of Lake Tekapo, a characteristic it shares with other regional bodies of water such as Lake Pukaki, is due to ‘rock flour’ (sediment) in the water. This so-called flour was created when the lake’s basin was gouged out by a stony-bottomed glacier moving across the land’s surface, with the rock-on-rock action grinding out fine particles that ended up being suspended in the glacial melt water. This sediment gives the water a milky quality and refracts the sunlight beaming down, hence the brilliant colour”
- Lonely Planet: New Zealand
“The blazing blue turquoise colour of Lake Tekapo, a characteristic it shares with other regional bodies of water such as Lake Pukaki, is due to ‘rock flour’ (sediment) in the water. This so-called flour was created when the lake’s basin was gouged out by a stony-bottomed glacier moving across the land’s surface, with the rock-on-rock action grinding out fine particles that ended up being suspended in the glacial melt water. This sediment gives the water a milky quality and refracts the sunlight beaming down, hence the brilliant colour”
- Lonely Planet: New Zealand
Shades, relatives, and family friends of blue seemed to be the flavour of this quaint little town, complete with its tiny, picture-postcard church (apparently a favourite for nuptials) beside the lake, melon-collie (erm… I couldn’t resist) memorial, and meadows bursting with the most brilliantly violet and purple flower-like-things you’d ever see. I’ve been told since that those “flowers” are quite poisonous, even to the touch, but I’d forgive them still. As far as I’m concerned, purple and violet bits of vegetation can get away with murder. What’s that thing they say about “blue vitriol”… ?
The town had other delightful pluses – A YHA hostel with a lounge room having the most spectacular view of the lake, a hilltop observatory that afforded an unmatched 360° view, and a homely yet lively pizza diner.
While tottering around the hilltop, braving the blustery winds, we noticed that one of the lakes in the area wasn’t turquoise at all, just a regular, pretty blue. Going by the Lonely Planet’s rock-flour explanation, one would think that this lake, in very close proximity to Tekapo and Pukaki, would share their unusual brilliance. In the end, some things are best left unexplained. A little less logic is what keeps the magic in the world alive.
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