The road begins to wind and wend its way round the volcanic spurs. The car ascends the ridge and the vague nausea of travel sickness from the bending roads abates as you meet with the view at the top. Long fingers of lava, long since cooled, extend from the summit ridgelines and inch their ways into the South Pacific, whose turquoise waters fill myriad bays below. Golden tussocks stretch along the hills, with patches of native bush enclosing pastureland for sheep. Cottages, huts and houses populate the steep inclines leading down to the waters, and yachts, dinghies and motorboats sleep in the bays. Incongruously, an enormous ocean liner is parked offshore in the centre of Akaroa Harbour.