Dream Destinations

The world's a huge, fantastic place - and there's no better way to see it than on two wheels. Here Mac McDiarmid charts the first of five top destinations to see with your Triumph..

South Island, New Zealand is the size of England and Wales, and about half a dozen people live there.  The scenery is awesome, the roads superb and there's almost no-one but you to enjoy them. 

'The Lap' is a natural.  Starting from Christchurch, head south on the cost road to Temulka before heading inland to Mt Cook, then south via Omarama to the Lindi Pass, Cromwell and the Kawarau Gorge.  Next stop is New Zealand's adrenalin capital, Queenstown.

From Queenstown head north again, to the Haast Pass and Tasman Sea, following the coast to Greymouth.  Then inland to Nelson, Picton and Blenheim, before following the east coast back to Christchurch.  It'll take a week but the best biking week of your life.

Why? Because South Island is where they tested prototype scenery before sending it elsewhere.  As you crest the Burke Pass - bingo! Smack between the eyes is the whole of creation, framed in a gilded basin of snow grass and a sky of crystal clarity:  Almost the entire Southern Alps, range upon snow-capped range, with the towering massif of Mount Cook centre stage.

For these aren't just any Swiss Alps - they pre-date ski resorts and tourists.  A days ride from here can take you to Norway (fjords), Brazil (rain forest), via British Columbia, Wyoming and anywhere else your imagination can handle.

 

Or crest a rise and marvel as Lake Hawea's white-capped waters spread as far as you can see between walls of rugged mountains, with precisely one building to mar the 40-mile vista.  Twenty miles later, Lake Wanaka goes one better:  No buildings at all.  Around it the road clings to the precipices of the eastern shore, the bike clings to the road and you cling to the bike... isn't this why you passed your test?

On to the Haast Pass and down to the weird grandeur of South Island's west coast - rain forest and glaciers, breaker-battered beaches and not a soul for miles.  Then there's Arthur's pass, which in the space of 40 miles mutates from a boisterous, Jack-the-Lad of a road into barking-mad bitumen on a world turned sideways.

And still half a lap to go..