The Great Sandfly Cover Up
Trip Start
Nov 15, 2006
1
41
60
Trip End
Aug 04, 2007
Abel Tasman National Park,
New Zealand
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Anyway, to get to the Tales of NZ ...
Following on from an epic 3 day journey from Quito to Auckland - which involved flying from the Ecuadorian capital to Lima in Peru and then waiting for 4 hours before connecting to Santiago in Chile where we arrived at 7am and then spent the day by The Best Swimming Pool in the World on top of Cerro San Cristobal before getting a midnight flight to New Zealand which takes 14 hours. We finally arrived in Auckland at 4 o'clock in the morning on the 11 March having crossed the International Date Line and therefore lost an entire day of our lives (does that mean less wrinkles?). We then had four hours to kill before we could pick up our camper van and were subjected to the delights of 50-something Steph from Whakatane who wanted to tell us all the best places to go, share the recent traumatic details of her break up from lover in Brisbane and laugh at our uptight Britishness for seemingly unreasonably wanting to plan our route through NZ. By the time she had to get her connecting flight, Ben was ready to kill and I had agreed to meet up in the authentic Irish pub The Craig (or however you spell Crack in Gaelic) on Saturday in Whakatane ... yeah right.
Soon after we headed to go and collect Mabel. This is the name we (well I) gave to our campervan, a Toyota something or other that had a 1940's saucy lady painted on the side and whilst obviously gorgeous in her time, was a bit past it and had several thousand too many k's on the clock. The excitement levels of this being our home for the next 4 weeks were equivalent to those of a 6 year old on Christmas Eve.
With me at the helm and Ben navigating with the best map ever (these things are important when campervanering - particularly when said map has little icons all over the place indicating film locations for Lord of the Rings ... great ...) we set off to find the home of Jonny - a friend of Ben's from Primary School who now lives in West Auckland with his wife Mel. Thanks to the Magnificent Map we did so, only to remember that they were at ante-natal classes and so Ben dug out some recommendations and we had the best Eggs Benedict ever at a café down the road and then headed out to the gorgeous Piha beach to chill out for a few hours. We were complete space cadets by this point after our epic journey so snoozed on the beach to the sound of crashing waves with the sun beating down. Glorious.
The next couple of days were spent enjoying the company of Jonny and Mel and the latter's fabulous cooking, exploring the delights of Auckland including the gravity defying Skytower, complete with nutters jumping off it. Incredibly, my parents 60-something year old friend has done this - his main impetus being that OAP's got a discount .... We also went to the Auckland Domain (why is it called that?), the very impressive Auckland Museum with an amazing exhibit on Volcanoes including someone's living room which you sit in and watch a spoof TV news broadcast about a volcano in Waitemata Harbour erupting and what it would do to the city - which is cleverly planned around 50 (extinct) volcanoes - complete with shaking room and flashing lights, it was fab.
Two things that became apparent in our first few days was that a) New Zealand's architecture isn't all that which explains why there were so many Kiwis among the architects at Aukett and why Billy Connolly (who became our tour guide) dubbed it the Land of the Wooden Bungalow and b) that we weren't going to have nearly enough time to do everything we wanted. So from the start there is a list of places that we want to go back to ... first up Waiheke Island in Waitemata Harbour which is supposed to beautiful, have great seafood restaurants and a stunning sculpture park.
On 13 March we set off early leaving Jonny and Mel, their lovely home, a duvet and fab cooking behind, stopped off to get supplies, got increasingly excited about our first nights camping and headed north. Ben was now driving, which instantly put me in a bad mood which pretty much continued every time I was shotgun until we reached Christchurch. As I pointed out to Ben on day 5, there's only two things wrong with his driving; his braking and his steering ... Heading north we first off all hit Helensville which judging from the huge signposts advertising Helensville's presence every 5 k's we could be forgiven for thinking that it was a metropolis on the scale of Peterborough, if not Birmingham. However, we blinked and missed it - it being smaller than Oundle - and kept on our way, realising quickly that this would be a theme for the whole trip. Somebody told me an interesting fact that the population of New Zealand - 4 million people - is that same of that as Sydney and the population of Australia - 12 million - is the same of that as London. Interesting? Out of the aforementioned four million, 3m live in the north island, 1m of that live in Auckland and the larger south island has the remaining 1 million. If we thought the towns were small in the north island wait until we found no towns and no people in the south.
Anyway the first stop on our travels north was a museum all about trees. This probably took us to new heights in geekdom, but it satisfied my treehugging tendancies and was a cool interactive museum all about Kauris. These are majestic beauties that grow, over thousands of years, to have a trunk that takes 14 people, arms outstretched to encircle it. We then drove onto the Waipoua Forest a stunning Kauri forest to see Tane Mahuta the largest Kauri left which is over 17 m high just to the first branch. Waipoua is the last remnant of the Kauri forest which originally covered the whole of the north island but started to disappear when the Europeans arrived and chopped them down for their wood and to create farmland, oh didn't we do so much good. Then it was heading north again and we carried on until we were too excited about camping in our van to go any further and stayed our first night on the shores of the stunning Hokianga Harbour and celebrated with Spaghetti Carbonara and the first of many many bottles of NZ Sauvnignon Blanc .... yum. Crossing the harbour on the car ferry the next morning (14 March) was the best incentive for getting up at the crack of dawn I have ever experienced. Gorgeous sunrise glinting off the sand dunes to the left, sparkling on the waters and illuminating the picture perfect wooden church near Rawene where we had stayed the night. Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous. Our understanding as to why EVERYONE raves about NZ was slowly awakening. We had some brekkie at the acely named Kohokoho and then got on our way.
The day was mammoth and already 'perfect view' overload was threatening. Through Mangamuka Gorge and then up to 90 mile beach, which we didn't drive on as the bah humbug car rental people won't let you, but visited at various locations along the way to marvel at its 60 miles (why is it called 90 mile?) and the pounding surf and the sheer make-us-feel-small wildness of the place (interspersed with huge buses of tourists zooming along it) and then we got to Cape Reinga (the northernmost tip of the north island (except it's not really)) and the pretty lighthouse and the tree where all the Maori spirits go and the signpost and the seam that indicates the meeting of the Pacific Ocean and Tasman Sea and the gorgeous colour of the water and the wind and the end-of-the-world,-that's-a-mighty-ocean,-aren't-I-insignific ant thing.
By this time we were itching to do some walking, but time was of the essence so we appeased our caged tigers with a brief jaunt down to the stunningly dramatic Te Werahi beach and then a visit to the Te Paki sanddunes, which were great, but not really a patch on Huacachina in Peru (although I hate to say that as Huacachina's a bit of a hole really). And then it was back the way we came and some more stop offs as we headed to the Bay of Islands. We came to realise early on that having your own transport makes for a very different kind of trip to what we'd got used to in South America. We agreed, however, it's the only way to see New Zealand as the public transport is like England's (rubbish) and half the point of coming to New Zealand is to enjoy the journey and the views as you drive around - being able to stop wherever you please. Which we did.
Rarawa beach - kind of on the left as you come back down from Cape Reinga on the skinny bit at the top - has the whitest, squeakiest sand but not a soul on it - more gorgeous. Doubtless Bay was the next stop, very pretty,and then it was onwards with a diversion to Matauri Bay and the site of the Rainbow Warrior wreck (which was moved from Auckland Harbour after it was sunk by the some nasty people on behalf of the French Government a few years ago). For some stupid reason we thought we'd be able to see it from the shore - it's about a mile out and 40 metres under the sea ... duh. Finally after a super long day and another ferry ride, we arrived in picturesque Russell at the Bay of Islands and only after about 15 arguments relating to Ben's driving and me being a control freak. This campsite was fantastic ... I got to use a hair dryer for the first time in 4 months! The novelty hadn't yet worn off cooking in the van and so for the next 3 days everything smelt of bacon sarnies.
The whole reason to come to the Bay of Islands is to go sailing around the Bay and look at the Islands (erhum). Ben managed to get us on a boat the next morning with zero notice and we enjoyed a day on a vast catamaran and finally got proof that dolphins exist. As soon as we set sail in the morning there were about 15 Bottlenose dolphins frolicking around the bow and they are just the coolest. We weren't able to swim with them as they had a calf with them, which is apparently a no-no but as Ben said, isn't it slightly ridiculous to market a 'swim with dolphins' when unless you have a James Bond style jet pack you're never going to keep up with them? We stopped off at an island for lunch which was beautiful (although I think we were a bit complacent about it having just left the Galapagos - not smug I promise you) and then were accompanied back to Russell by the same pod we'd seen earlier including one dolphin who had a fin shaped like a witches hat and so had been christened after a character in a Spike Milligan tale named Bad Jelly - great name.
Russell is a gorgeous little place, a bit touristy but with lovely buildings including the oldest church in NZ, a tiny little white weatherboard affair. The evening was spent in the shade of an enormous fig tree, munching on fish and chips and watching the sun set behind the boats bobbing in the harbour. Jealous?
Two nights in one place, that's almost lazy, so the next morning (16 March) it was on the road again. First stop was to visit Waitangi, the place where the famous Treaty of the same name was signed in 1840 and which effectively ensured (kind of) that the European settlers honoured Maori land rights. It is credited with being one of the reasons that there is such equality between the Maori and Pakeha (Europeans) in NZ and that race relations aren't in the dire situation they are in Australia. I'm sure there are other reasons - such as the humanitarian and fair nature of the first Brit Resident (James Busby) of NZ compared to the not so nice guys in Oz - and things most definitely aren't perfect, but the pride in Maori heritage of the vast majority of New Zealanders of either race is incredible. Aside from all this the grounds of Waitangi are absolutely beautiful, in the most gorgeous setting overlooking the Bay of Islands, I didn't want to leave.
But we did and the next stop was the Coromandel Peninsula.
This meant driving back through Auckland and probably the only bit of 3 lane road in the entire country - in fact more than one lane each way is a rarity - heading a bit further south and then turning left - it really is that simple driving in New Zealand as there aren't any people so only a few roads - even I couldn't get lost. We didn't know much about the Coromandel, other than Jonny and Mel had recommended it and the seafood was supposed to be incredible. The drive along the coast was enough. A tiny road barely wide enough for two vehicles sandwiched between the sea and the mountains with just gorgeous views. Coromandel Town itself isn't much to shout about but the absolutely enormous Green Lipped Mussels, the oysters and the whitebait and lovely people most definitely are. As a result we decided to carry on the next day and head to the east side of the Peninsula. The highlight of the whole area and one of the whole trip is the absolutely beautiful Hahei Beach. A gorgeous stretch of white sand with high cliffs behind and islands dotting the bay. We stretched out on the sand enjoyed some smoked mussels we'd bought in Coromandel, watched a wedding on the beach and walked to Cathedral Cove - a beach where the waves have eroded away the underside of a limestone promenatary (I really don't know how to spell that) to create a massive chamber. When I have heaps of money I'm taking family and friends to stay in one of the Baches (holiday homes) on Hahei Beach. So far, top beach in the world and reason number 2 to go back. Then it was time to leave this utopia and head on down to stinky Rotorua.
I'd say it has to be done. You have to go to Rotorua, if only to experience a town that constantly smells of rotten eggs and has random bubbling pools of mud and super hot water just dotted around the town. Rotorua is at the heart of the volcanic part of New Zealand a massive area which is itself part of the Pacific Ring of Fire which includes Hawaii and some of the places we've previously visited on this trip. Included in this are many dormant volcanoes but some that are still very active. Maybe because it's one of the most accessible volcanic areas in the world, Rotorua is very very very touristy and that instantly put us off. Despite being tourists ourselves we're totally snobbish about that whole thing ... yep and we should get over ourselves. We did go to the Maori Thermal Village (whose name now escapes me but is vastly long and begins with W) mainly because we wanted to understand something about Maori traditions and were duly rewarded with gorgeous singing, a haka or two and a little bit of insight into the Maori pride.
Aside from smelly stuff there were other great things to do. We weren't able to climb Mount Tarawera (another extinct volcano) as it was fully booked (??!?!?) but we did visit the Buried Village which was a village (no) that was buried (really) when Tarawera erupted in 1886 obliterating the village and the famed Pink and White terraces which the Kiwis claimed were the 8th Wonder of the World. Basically thermal pools that were pink and white thanks to the minerals in the water ... look pretty cool (if you'll excuse the pun) in the pics though. Then we decided that we'd been in NZ a week and hadn't done anything vaguely action packed so we went Zorbing. This is the most fun you can have with, or should I say, in a ball. A giant inflatable ball which you climb inside along with your buddies (y), get a bucket of water chucked at you, the hatch closed and pushed down a hill, laughing hysterically all the way ... a tame start, but the MOST amount of fun.
Given that Kiwis are very shy creatures (the birds not the folk) we figured that the chances of us seeing one in the wild were slim to none, so the next day we went to hug a Kiwi at the Kiwi Encounter just outside Rotorua. Well you can't hug them coz they're wild and all that, but we could see the eggs and them hatching and a pair that were 'rescued' from Auckland Zoo and are kept for breeding. Apparently thanks to introduced animals such as stoats and possums the Kiwi is pretty close to extinction, so the place we visited is trying to reverse this and it seems that they're doing a pretty good job, although this is the only place in the whole of NZ that does it and I don't think (but don't quote me) it has any government contribution ... bit strange considering the bird is the national emblem. By the way next time you see a Kiwi ask them about possums ... you have never seen the rage that these animals create in your average mild mannered New Zealander; all over the place there are squished possums on the roads and I'm assured that most will have been hit deliberately. In summary Kiwis rock ... aside from being blind and not able to fly. The highlight of the visit for Ben was when we were taken into a room where we could watch the people rearing the birds working. One woman was cutting an egg open to see why it had died and the egg was full of yucky stuff. We're all standing there happily watching this whilst the guide has to run outside and prevent herself from being sick as she "can't stomach that kind of thing." She's the guide and she can't cope with what they do and doesn't care whether she comes across as professional or not! I love the don't-give-two-hoots what you think of me displayed throughout NZ, it's very refreshing.
After Kiwis it was on to Taupo (19 March) to organise walking the Tongariro Crossing and to check out Killer Prawn Golf. I had been urged by my parents that this was a must when visiting Taupo. We did. It involves whacking golf balls into some prawn beds. Pointless but amusing once you assure your other half that no animals are harmed in the bid to pretend you can play golf. Then as we'd got the bug for clubs and balls we whiled away a few hours getting highly competitive over mini golf. Oh the adrenalin fueled excitement. We then drove to Whakapapa Village, cooked and ate some of the prawns we hadn't harmed and made up our ever collapsing bed in preparation for our hike across Tongariro the following day.
My sister had said walking the Tongariro Crossing was one of the most awesome things she's done and it is pretty spectacular. You basically climb up and over one volcano which has, thanks to previous eruptions, morphed into three and includes the perfectly conical Mount Ngauruhoe which has recently adopted filmstar status appearing as Mount Doom in the Lord of the Rings trilogy, as Magnificent Map and several teenage boys told us, and it last erupted in 1975. We had read that during the summer months the Crossing can resemble a queue for All Blacks tickets and whilst we weren't in high season it was just that. There were heaps and heaps of people which somewhat detracted from the stark beauty of the landscape. It is really surreal with colours and shapes that you just don't expect to see in nature. The Red Crater is something that everyone should see, quite spectacularly and scarily beautiful (particularly when the wind is so strong it's threatening to throw you into it) and then there are the turquoise lakes, which are very similar to Laguna Quilotoa in Ecuador but on a smaller scale. It was an incredible day and, as we found out later, could have been even more exciting. Apparently the day before we arrived there had been a lahar. Goodness you say, sounds dramatic, and it was. A lahar is created when the sides of a volcanic lake (i.e. where a crater has filled with water) for one reason or another collapse and water escapes and basically obliterates and picks up everything in its path, this mud flow causes untold damage and often loss of life. The most infamous was in the same area in 1953 at a place called Tangiwai when a lahar wiped out a railway bridge and 151 people on their way home to Auckland for Christmas died when their fell into the gap. The same thing happened in the same place the day before we arrived but thanks to it being smaller and people now being prepared for this kind of thing the worst that happened was the roads had been closed. We blithely knew nothing of this until we reached Martinborough. Suffice to say Mount Tongariro and the surrounding area is awesomely striking but at the same time seems very inhospitable; you can sense the power of nature in a way that you don't often feel in the UK. That night we camped in a cemetery just to increase the feeling of doom ... although we didn't realise it until the morning.
Martinborough is right down south in the north island and was recommended to us by John who we met when we were in Uyuni, Bolivia. He works in a winery and had said that by far the nicest place to sample Kiwi wine is in Martinborough. It is a tiny little township and is unique - according to us - in the world in that all of the vineyards are tiny, the reason for this being the particular type of soil that makes the vines grow so well - and particularly for producing the notoriously hard to grow Pinot Noir - only covers a very small section of the land. As such everywhere in Martinborough there are vines, including in people's front gardens. And the added benefit of this is that you can do a tour of the vineyards on foot, which makes for much merriment. We arrived mid morning (21 March), parked up in - we agreed - the best campground in New Zealand and then headed off to do some tasting. The first place didn't set us on fire, but we got chatting to a charming man who told us about the lahar and had to be dragged away by his wife as he wanted to tell us everywhere we should go in the south island and how to dodge the rain ... erm. The second place was amazing, name escapes me at the moment, but we learnt heaps, drank gorgeous wine, had a laugh with the cellar door girl and got completely trashed - obviously showing ourselves up as complete amateurs. The third was completely soulless and we just talked rubbish to the girl who looked thoroughly fed up. But we did learn heaps and can now bore everyone with all the different wines that should be drunk with what and when and how. The rest of the day was spent trying to sober up over carrot cake and newspapers (oh and another glass of wine) in a café and going out for a wonderful meal - scallops followed by best NZ lamb - and being thoroughly entertained by the owner of the restaurant. One thing about travelling around NZ the way we did and as quickly as we were doing is that we didn't really have the chance to meet many people. But I can safely say that Martinborough should be used as an advert for Kiwi loveliness. All the people there were so chilled out, welcoming, so friendly and highly amusing. Having exhausted ourselves with volume of vino consumed we headed back to the van for a night of Billy Connolly does NZ ... the van was that cool it even had a DVD player which more than made up for a bed that wouldn't hold our weight, dodgy brakes, no acceleration and being blown fully across the road every time there was the slightest gust of wind.
Miss list numbers 3-7 to go back and visit Cape Palliser and Castle Rock on the south coast of the north island as well as the Forgotten Highway and surrounding Whanganui National Park and the Waitomo Caves.
Next stop Wellington, capital. The drive to Wellington along Highway 2 is another gorgeous bit of trying not to drive straight into a huge great big chasm because you're gawping at the scenery so much. In a bid to prevent more arguments induced by Ben's driving I'd sussed it would be windy and steep in advance so ensured I was in the driving seat. Control freak? Probably.
Despite what we'd heard we both really liked Wellington, although I came to understand what Mel had meant when asked what she missed about London (having lived there for four years) and she answered "the shopping". By Wellington I was desperate for a shopping spree ... four and a half months with no new clothes is tough for anyone let alone someone with my clothes addition, besides I had an excuse, I needed something to wear for Stu and Suzie's wedding - shorts and scrotty t-shirt would not do. I do not know how New Zealand women survive with the appalling lack of decent shoes available. Initally I would have included clothes in that as well, but 20 minutes before I was due to meet Ben again, to do something cultural to relieve the consumerist guilt, I found ace shops so Wellington redeemed itself. Although Christchurch was a whole nother matter. Getting ahead of myself now ... so we went off to wander along the lovely waterfront and visit Te Papa which is basically the museum that covers all things Kiwi. It's quite new, only open 5 years or so, and sustained our opinion that the Kiwis know how to do museums. They make history and geology vastly interesting and keep big kids occupied with an interactive things such as how to earthquake-proof your house. I was very pleased to see that thanks to my advice about improving the foundations of her home, Mrs Chilcott's home didn't fall down. Don't ask ... but it was great!
It was time after all the good worthy museums and walking and loving the scenery to have some city action so we went out for 'fusion' food and then got well and truly plastered and danced to by far the best pub band ever, not least because they played the anthem of our trip - Sweet Child of Mine - quickly followed by that perennial Wensley favourite; Teenage Dirtbag and all of this without us even requesting it. Marvellous.
So now I've decided that this is enough for one entry and it seems a logical point to break at the end of the north island. Whilst it had taken us a little while to get into the spirit of New Zealand, as everything seemed far too easy after speaking a different language for four months, by this point we knew that we will definitely be back for more. New Zealand is infectious. More, more southerly NZ tales to follow soon.
