East coast, Northland
Trip Start
Nov 06, 2003
1
33
87
Trip End
Jan 24, 2004
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Bay of Islands,
New Zealand
Thursday, December 4, 2003
Lucy stamps her foot right in it, then rolls through it a bit before we can stop her. We resort to washing her under the kitchen tap, and some time later have a clean happy baby sitting on a motel towel drying her rear end.
We pay for this tactical error when Movement Two arrives, creating a yellow river down the towel. We do an initial clean in the bathroom, then Julie takes her to the kitchen sink for a rinse, leaving me to clean the towel.
Julie screams as Movement Three, then Four, fill up the kitchen sink. Lucy finishes off with some big blasts of fart bubbles, which rip through the pooh-filled water. By this time our laughter wakes Emma, so we have another set of hands to help with the clean up.
Back on the road, I'm forced to rethink my initial theory on New Zealand drivers. Last night as cars whizzed by me or veered crazily around the sharp corners, I decided that nine months ago an uncontrollable sexual urge seized the entire northland population. Gestation of all that procreation coincided with our arrival, hence all the people rushing to hospital to give birth. But this morning, as a police car blurs past me in a questionable pass location, I decide that it's more basic than that.
Clean up
Kiwis are simply mad drivers.Considering the vast amount of single-lane, undivided highway in the country, it's not surprising that 1 in 20 accidents results in a death -- about three times the average in Canada. Then again, Canada has almost double the accidents per capita. Still, I maintain my slight but constant paranoia about head-on collisions.
We double back to the Top of the Dome Café for breakfast, then careen over various hills and dales through Mangawhai to Lange Beach and our first view of the southern Pacific. The waters are a glacial blue but warmer, if not in the comfort zone of Hawaii. The slight, almost dainty seagulls cautiously watch Emma's turn on a swing. We gaze across the ocean towards Chile, thousands of miles beyond the nuance of the horizon.
At Whangarei many cosmic forces align. I replace the walkie talkies, buy a phone card and finally get a haircut, all in the course of 90 minutes. What will I obsess over for the rest of the trip? Meanwhile, Julie and Emma work through an hour of emailing.
After lunch, we continue north toward the Bay of Islands. The Twin Coast Discovery Highway is a misnomer for this twisting road, which offers nary a glimpse of the ocean before Taumarere, an hour further north. The landscape occasionally takes on the trappings of the semi tropics, and when we finally glimpse the Waikare Inlet, there's a definite South Pacific paradise feel to the landscape. As well as lovely vistas, this area boasts a central role in the country's history. The Treaty of Waitangi was signed here between the British and many north island chiefs in 1840.
There's little more to the town of Paihia than backpackers and tour and souvenir shops. We toy with the idea of a Swim with the Dolphins, but don't book from the various operator fronts that litter the town. The view from the waterfront hints at the sands and protected aquamarine coves that beckon sailors into these waters. Most of the stunning views, however, are blocked by the Tapeka Peninsula and the more interesting town of Russell across the bay. We head back inland to stay at a slightly cheaper place with a pool.
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