Thrall At Sea
Trip Start
Oct 15, 2007
1
64
97
Trip End
Aug 24, 2008
Marahau,
New Zealand
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Halfway up Takaka Hill, we relented and pulled over as Lucy's temperature gauge was creeping perilously close to the red. Old van, steep hill, lots and lots of turns. It's the turns that do it. If we could have gone straight up, with a clear run, she'd have been a lot happier, but that's not really the way mountain roads work.
Sitting at the side of the road, listening to the coolant boiling out of the engine, we decided that, all in all, Marahau would be a better idea. When the clouds of steam billowing out of the wheel arch subsided, we freewheeled back down the hill, the temperature gauge behaving like an altimeter.
In Marahau, we found a stretch of camper vans by the beach, so we joined them. An old guy wandered past quite a bit later, telling us all that we weren't allowed to camp there, but as long as we used the nearby public toilets and not the bushes by the roadside, no-one was going to do anything. We were slightly miffed that he should have though there was any reason for us not to be there: there was no 'No Camping' sign in evidence, but later on, about a quarter of a mile away, we found a small notice stapled to a picnic bench saying we couldn't camp within a given distance of an official campsite. There was an official campsite just across the road from our van. Ho hum. We, like the rest of the campers, stayed put.
Kirsty made a pair of curtains for the space behind the front seats out of the knackered hammock we'd found in the back of the van, to replace the green and brown rubber camo netting which had been in situ when we bought her. Meanwhile, Jacob stitched the rips and burns in one of the folding chairs back together, before we set about our evening meal. Quite the picture of domestic bliss. Does anybody else think we're starting to sound very middle-aged?
We were secretly disappointed that this evening we had an audience of other campers who only got to witness us reheating last night's leftovers, which looked like they could have been bought ready-made. The previous night, as we bubbled up a curry and baked bread from scratch, on a picnic table, using a beer bottle as a rolling pin and a single-burner camping stove as our sole means of cooking, we were watched only by the occasional gnat, attracted by the dim glow of a cheap battery lantern.
The following morning, we got up early and went to the nearby tourist information office to arrange hiring kayaks. The weather was in our favour: the sun was finally shining. This meant that there had been something of a rush on kayaking that morning - although it would be fine for us to hire kayaks, we would have to wait until 10am, instead of the usual 9am. No worries, as they say around here; we had time to make breakfast.
We also booked into the campsite for the evening, as after a day of kayaking, we thought we would appreciate the luxury of a shower and a kitchen block. We moved Lucy into the site and gathered stuff together for the day, then made our way back over to the kayak people.
As we arrived, we met Bea, who would be giving us a safety briefing before we were allowed loose with the kayak. "Thus vissul heer" ("this vessel here", in English), was a large, yellow, two person sea kayak and was to be ours for the day. We were fitted with buoyancy aids and spray decks. Kirsty's tried to fall down, which, Bea informed her, was because she needed to eat more pies and drink more beer.
After a quick demonstration of how to get back in if we fell out and suchlike, we went to the waterfront and another instructor showed us how to move forwards and backwards (which we already knew, but they had to check that we could do). Then, we were off.
We decided to paddle out around the small Fisherman's Island and Adele Islands. Having made the crossing, landed on the small beach on Fisherman's Island for a bit of a swim. We continued around Adele island, stopping to take some photos of the seals which were swimming around the rocks and the boat.
We then crossed back to the coast of the mainland, stopping at 'Observation Beach' for our picnic of boiled eggs, bread, crisps and muesli bars. It did seem a good place to be for watching the world go by. We then paddled back down the coast to the landing point. Unfortunately, by this time, the wind had turned against us, so we weren't "brought back in by the sea breeze" as the leaflet had suggested. It was more a gruelling struggle against the elements, with Jacob, our resident drummer, shouting "One, Two, One, Two" to help us keep pace. As we made the crossing, we took messages to pass on to the kayak company from various other groups who decided to give up, land at one of the beaches along the way and walk back instead.
We made it back to the landing point only a few minutes later than we had been due back, to the congratulations of the staff, who hadn't expected anyone to bother given the prevailing headwind. Tired and salty, we returned the kit and headed back to the campsite for a shower.
They cost $1 for 6 minutes. So much for the nice, relaxing shower after the hard day's paddling. We managed to limit ourselves to a 6 minute shower each (doesn't sound like much of a challenge? Think how much hair is involved), using our remaining small change to do our laundry.
Whilst the laundry was going, we made full use of the kitchen facilities to cook up a fabulous meal of fresh bread (flavoured with tomatoes and herbs), fish cakes and salad. This time, we made quite a large number of campers jealous. Excellent.
The following morning, after a breakfast of bacon and egg butties (as mentioned, full use was made of the kitchen), we decided to give Takaka Hill another go...
