Shame I don’t live there then!

Cesca and I have written many articles on the subject of New Zealand and also made a “love letter” of a short-film celebrating the country (found under “films” in the navigation bar). However, I have always wanted to do more to speak of our time driving around these islands.

Well, our wish has come true.

About a two weeks ago I was approached by a company working for Air New Zealand. They wanted to license all our content on New Zealand for use in the official Air New Zealand iPhone app!

On the go and in the air, Air New Zealand’s free Spot-On Travel Guide App Series help you make the most of your visit – even offline.

Browse hand-picked activities, events and destinations by region, then save them for quick retrieval upon arrival. Handy travel tools and social network integration make finding and sharing amazing spots a cinch.

Be a tourist without looking like one.

It’s the Kiwi in us – Air New Zealand.

We jumped at the chance of being involved because we loved our time in New Zealand and the idea of that being celebrated “officially” made us very happy. It gives us another way to share our experiences and give something back. Hopefully, this will have a positive effect on the places we experienced and make sure that people visiting the country for the first time don’t miss out.

I cut down the articles to 150 word long chunks with one picture per chunk. I then uploaded them to a custom CMS provided by my contact. A few days ago they were approved and went live on the app!

We uploaded articles on the following topics:

• See the splendour of Pahia and the Bay Of Islands
• Walk endless sands of 90 Mile Beach
• Be blown away on the cliffs of Cape Reinga
• Walk to the falls of Waitonga
• Cycle up Mount John.
• Walk the Hooker Valley for a view of Mount Cook
• Visit the Sir Edmund Hillary Alpine Centre
• See the wild waters of Hokianga harbour.
• Wonder at the Giant Kauri Trees
• Brave the unpaved roads to Waikawau Bay
• Get washed up in Cathedral Cove
• Bath in Mud at Hell’s Gate
• Dip in the Polynesian Spa at Lake Rotorua.
• Wander around the history of Rotorua museum.
• Early morning at Lake Rerewhakaaitu
• See the wondrous colour palette of Wai-O-Tapu
• See the huge Lake Taupo
• Walk the Queen Charlotte track
• Visit and stay at Furneaux Lodge
• Dig your own spa at Hot Water Beach
• Wonder at the strange Moeraki Boulders
• Get wet at Punakaiki’s Pancake Rocks
• See whales by helicopter in Kaikoura

I have created a special “landing page” for use in the iPhone in-built browser. This can be found here: www.outsidecontext.com/new-zealand

If you are thinking of, or planning, a visit to the best country on the far-side of the world, then get this app and read up on some of the above. We did so much in New Zealand. In two months we travelled one end to the other taking in mountains, beaches, volcanoes, islands, cities and vineyards. We walked on its glaciers, jumped off its bridges, worked on its farms and skydived over its mountains. We didn’t want to leave.

So, get this app and then you too can fall in love with New Zealand.

Just like me.

Download from here

Basho.

PS. If you do get the app, and you like it, then please leave us a comment here to let us know – it would mean a lot to us to hear of your visits to NZ.

Mile upon mile of endless beaches where the sunlight washes over the sand and reflects the sky like a mirror. Dominating cliffs guard over idyllic coves from the pounding waves and rocky outcrops that are home to seals, penguins and sea-birds.

The seascape relentlessly demonstrates its prowess as several rows of waves roll towards the shore at any time. Waves pound the seemingly impenetrable rock like a magical sculptor with only fine grains of golden sand left behind. Home to all creatures great and small, the wealth of wildlife is a dream. Seals and seal-lions bask in the sunlight after a few days fishing. Yellow-Eyed Penguins surf and dive through the waves at sunrise and sunset. Even whales are drawn here to feed in the extensive larder at Kaikoura.

The Maori people, originally from Polynesia, arrived in New Zealand by waka (canoe) and named it ‘Aotearoa’ loosely translated to ‘The land of the long white cloud’. Weather systems play an important role in shaping these islands. Heavy rain clouds roll in over the Tasman Sea and empty down the spine of the Southern Alps before dispersing to allow for glorious sunshine on the Eastern Plateau. Each coastline is pounded by a different sea with the Tasman Sea on the western side and South Pacific Ocean on the eastern side. These two seas meet at Cape Reinga in the North and Stewart Island in the South where waves come head to head and crash over on another.

There are many hidden gems to offer around both islands and here are some of our highlights.

Beaches and Coves

The endless reflections of Ninety Mile Beach

Many beaches dot New Zealand’s coastline drawing locals and tourists alike.

Ninety Mile Beach (in fact only 55 miles long) is located on the west coast of North Island’s Northland region and is the most famous and impressive beach in NZ. Several stories abound as to why it was so called with the most popular one claiming that missionaries, capable of travelling 30 miles a day, took three days to traverse the beach and so claimed it to be 90 miles long without taking into account the slower pace of their horse on the sand.

This does not in any way detract from this impressive place where sea meets land and sky meets earth creating a wondrous reflection. It is hard not to be inspired here. The natural reflections inspiring internal reflections within ourselves. As we made imprints into the sand we passed a sleeping seal-lion on the sand. Blinking slowly, with only inquiry but no concern, he patiently waited for us to amble on. Drive along the beach is popular, but for us this was impossible in our ‘Mammoth’ campervan. Upon reflection I think it would have separated us from the emotional influence this place has.

No trip to NZ is complete without taking a shovel down to Hot Water Beach in the Coromandel. Due to a wonderful freak of nature extremely hot-water bubbles up through the sand enabling you to indulge in a self-dug spa-pool on the beach. Tide permitting that is! We were there during Spring tides which was a challenge. Man power is nothing against the power of the sea. Hurriedly digging at the beach and pilling the sand to create a pool only to see it washed clean away was a humbling experience. Time and time again people persevered with many working in teams to help one another, but eventually they all ended up falling the the same fate. Finally, the women were sat in bottom sized hot puddles with the men holding spades looking bemused at their defeat. A very funny experience though I’d go back again in more conducive conditions as the reward is well worth the effort. Especially for those couples where the men did all the digging!

 

Hot Water Beach as James works to defeat the power of the waves

Waihi Beach where you can surf or sit pool side

Waihi in the Bay of Plenty is another glorious long golden beach with the perfect break for the surfer within. For those not ready to take the plunge into the winter waters the Top 10 Holiday Park here offers a surprising sophistication with a wonderful long pool, kids pool and water slide, an outdoor spa and parasol covered deckchairs.

 

Looking through Cathedral Cove

By far the most impressive rock formation we found was in the Coromandel Peninsula’s, where ‘Kiwi’s go for their holidays. Hahei is a lovely coastal town from where you can enjoy a short bush walk to the secluded location of Cathedral Cove, so called after the cavernous cathedral-like arch worn out of rock proudly standing there. At low tide the cove becomes a grand entrance to the next beach which is beautifully framed by the rock arch. With sand squeezed between our toes we paddles in the waves and took a romantic moment to gaze upon this beautiful natural wonder and each other as we remembered the vows we made exactly four years ago. Happy wedding anniversary, darling.

Coastline

The east coast of North Island gets more than its fair share of sunshine and is a good place to spend time when the rain sets in at Tongariro National Park. From the peak of Te Mata the coastline displays stunning. ridges, plateaus and distant mountains. Within this undulating region the earth bares much fruit enabling local vineyards to produce award winning wines and local bees to produce sweet manuka honey. This region is one of the world’s best examples of Art Deco architecture after a seismic event raised Napier and some of the surrounding towns to the ground in the 1920s.

 

North Island’s East coast

 

Cherry blossom in bloom pollinated by honey bees to make Arataki honey

Apart from the endless beaches that surround the islands coastline there is also the unforgettable landscape of the Marlborough Sounds and the Fiords. Where mountains touch the ocean. These fascinating places are a privilege and a pleasure to visit and allow you to get safely out onto the water at look back at New Zealand. We thoroughly enjoyed the wonderful tramping, wildlife, kayaking and fishing in the Marlborough Sounds during our two visits here. The people were lovely and very welcoming with a compatible sense of humour. The Fiords were awe-inspiring and reminded you of the natural power at work here. The shear scale and uninhabitable nature of this place to humans gave it a particularly special quality and reminded you that this place was here before us and would be here still when we are long gone.

Rock formations

The Catlins on the south east coast of South Island revealed to us the strangest sight I have seen on a beach. The Moueraki Boulders are not yet understood, but science thinks they were created underneath the sea and since the seabed has been exposed these large round boulders are slowly being exposed from within the cliff and remain on the beach. Some have been ‘cracked’ open and expose a thick wall with a hollow centre. Bizarre.

Moueraki Boulders

The Petrified Forest

Still within the Catlins area, Curio Bay reveals the petrified remains of an 180 million year old indigenous forest. These fossils may have been linked to with the coast of South America forming Gondwanaland. Today you can still see many of the stumps and trunks of these trees lying on the sand at low tide. Magical.

Experts are still unclear about the exact formation of the Pancake Rocks and why they should have formed in layers. They tower high out of the ocean like a mixture of a pile of jigsaw pieces and a vast game of Jenga. Over time the sea has found a way through the rock creating blowholes with impressive displays of might. It is worth the wait to spend time at each blowhole to see the really big waves come under the rock and explode through the opening to the sky.

Punakaki Pancake Rocks

Wildlife

Surrounding the coastline is a plethora of opportunities to see wildlife both on land and in the ocean. South Island is the ideal place to go to experience this. Whales of all varieties breach around Kaikoura, attracted by the vast larder brought here by an underwater ridge to the south. The best way to see these beasts of the ocean is from the air by chopper. The sperm whale we saw was sleeping at the surface, identified by the longer periods between breaths. At 100ft above the clear water we could see the eye, long mouth and vast tail of this incredible creature from the deep.

 

James happy to be in a chopper again to view a sperm whale from the coast of Kaikoura

The Otago Peninsula’s rugged shores claim an impressive share of NZ’s wildlife for its size. The vast Royal Albatross roams the skies over protected craggy cliffs on only the windiest of days. Seals lollop over the rocks at the oceans edge. Penguins surf and dive the seas only to waddle ashore for rest and breeding. Arabella was in here element, but this is not to say that the wonder if this place passed us by. Equip with binoculars and vast zoom lenses we got up close and personal with as many birds and mammals as was possible here. You can pay to see the penguins, but for us it was always the ultimate experience to see these creatures naturally going about their lives.

 

Wildlife on the Otago Peninsula

Sadly New Zealand’s national bird, the illusive Kiwi, is not easy to find in the wild as they are naturally both shy and nocturnal. So we visited them at Kiwi Zoo in Queenstown where they work hard to protect these flightless birds from extinction by ferrets, weasels and other such creatures. About the size of a chicken, they pair for life and only produce one egg each year and are said to share DNA with the emu and the ostrich.

Well this concludes our highlights though there is so much more to see, so get going!

Cesca

Not surprisingly then we wanted a break from city life and boy did we find it.

We left the North Island on the mighty Interislander ferry that rolls its way between the landmasses that make up New Zealand.  It is a titan of a ferry, which gleefully swallows trains, cars and passengers aplenty without burping. 

Inside it has all the mod cons such as food, drink and even that most vital of oceanic equipment: a full size cinema.  Coming into the South Island is to pass through a maze of broken up coastlines called sounds. 

Sounds are where a tectonic plate has been pushed down and has flooded leaving only the tops of the local mountains poking out of the sea filled valleys.  They are very similar in effect to fiords only without glacial involvement.  They comprise a heady formation of passages which are long and have formed into large inlets.  In these are multitudes of houses and hotels all buried amongst the short beach lines and masses of trees. 

One part is known as the Queen Charlotte Track and involves a 4 day hike around the points and campsites.

Hidden within this maze lays Picton and the port of call for the ferry.  Picton is a small town built up around its status as a transit hub and while it has a quite pleasant harbour you can tell that this is a working port. 

Its main use is the ferrying not of goods but of people in the form of multitudes of water taxi’s and small ferries out to the Sounds various accommodations.  For transport further into the South Island then Picton is the final stop on the train line (yes an actual train! in NZ!) that leads down the coast via Kikura and into Christchurch.  It also is the hub for the hire car companies and the bus companies.  Not surprisingly then, it is chock full of Backpacker choices in terms of accommodation.

We used the web to book what seemed like the best choice.  The Tombstone Backpackers is right opposite the cemetery, which is something that most people would not harp on about.  Tombstone uses the location to be its USP and having stayed at some of the other hostels I can see why.  It is slightly further out of town (still walkable) and its competitors all give away free Apple Pie and Ice Cream.

Every night.

That’s right, I stayed (weeks later) at the Lodge in town and the staff at the counter booked me in and then handed me my passport back, my change from the money I gave, the keys to the room and a bowl of apple pie and ice cream.  Just like that.  As if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Anyway, any visual images of Tombstone backpackers were melted away once we arrived and found that it is one of the every best hostels we have ever stayed at.  It is all brand new for a start.   A large kitchen, two TV sets (one massive LCD), two quiet rooms of sofas, a pool table and a hot tub.  The room was frankly a revelation.  I wondered if we had wandered into a top hotel my accident as this was a stonkingly good room.  Ensuite.  For NZ$60! 

Also the landlady was very helpful.  She quickly chatted to us and probed our somewhat haphazard plan about walking some of the track and within a jiffy had a plethora of good suggestions.  And when she heard that we were looking for WWOOFing… jackpot!  One of the lodges, on the Queen Charlotte Track, was looking for workers in the gardens for a few days.  How about we get the water taxi to drop our stuff there and we then go to the next stop and walk back along the track?  The taxi will be cheaper if we are staff at the lodge and they will provide food as well.  Sounds good,

“What was the name of this place?” I asked.

“Furneaux Lodge.”

The next day we boarded the Cougar Line water taxi at 9am and watched as our stuff was stowed properly.  We had tagged all the bags to go directly to the lodge and, of course, had concerns about leaving our most precious gear in someone else’s hands – a classic no no for backpackers.  The ferry got underway and soon we were streaming through the sounds on our way.  I checked my go-bag had all the provisions I needed for the walk and then relaxed and enjoyed the view.  The water was calm this day and we both were happy as the trees zipped by.

The walk from historical Ships cove to Furneaux was worth every step and a wonderful way to spend an afternoon.  However, it was a hot walk and a significant 3 hours trek up and down the hills.  By the time we came around the headland and could see the borders of Furneaux’s land I was in dire need of refreshment. 

Happily it has a bar.

The main house of Furneaux is an old mansion that has been converted into the business it is today.  It has that palatial feel of large white panelling and classic style decking all around the front.  Its large bulk sits amid a collection of chalets and huts inside tree lined gardens and a stream running right through it.  The building is split roughly into two.  One side is the lounge bar, which is nicely appointed and fully serviced with both food and drink of all types.  The other side is the main restaurant, which – on our first visit – was closed for the season.  Behind these are the kitchens and above the kitchens is the staff accommodation.  Out the rear of the building, across the stream, lay the higher-end chalets in a graceful arc looking towards the mountains.  Walking in like we did we missed the most impressive sight of the grounds from the sea.  On approach, this way, the buildings rise up out of the forest and very nice jetty welcomed you through the grounds and gardens up to the house.

We quickly introduced ourselves to the staff and even quicker downed a pint of beer that had been well earned from the walk.  There was about 8 permanent staff spread over a variety of jobs from bar works to grounds, kitchen to cleaners.  The more senior staff, like the head chef John, had their own rooms and everyone else either shared of bunked in a dorm room.  As a kind gesture, mainly due to us being married and it being off-season, we were housed away from the house in the “Possums”, which were small but fun rooms 100 meters from the house.

Work was set to start the next day with some other WOOFer’s who had already got going.  As it was 3pm, and work had finished at 1:30pm, we were told to settle in and relax until the morning.  Bliss.  Sitting out on the boards and looking out to the sounds (with a second beer in hand) was wonderful.  Either side of the sounds the high hills frame the backdrop nicely and the eye is drawn down gently to the crystal clear waters lapping the shore.

Work started the next morning at 9.  All food was provided by the host here and so we got dressed by 8 and selected suitable work clothes for the day, which was looking to be very sunny.  We then joined in with the other morning workers and made ourselves some toast and cereal from the kitchens.  Here we met the other WOOFer’s – three girls who were from Germany and Denmark.  After hello’s and hi’s we presented ourselves to the staff for instruction.

The task for the next “few days” was to weed out the back chalets that had grown over and had not been disturbed over the winter.  We were given directions to the tool shed and told to make a start.  Lunch was to be at 11:30 to midday and then work again until 1:30pm.  We went around to start and were presented with a monster weed infestation.  The sheer size and volume of the weeds here was amazing.  Some were so big that they could literally be confused with trees and all the earth was sown with a low laying creeper that made a lattice of green across all of the gardens.

I went and got a bigger fork.

Weeding is a lost art really.  It is not quite the most unpleasant of jobs, for while it is hideously monotonous you do get a lot of time to think.  I think a lot already, so I turned on the iPod to the longest audiobook I could find (The hobbit – 35 hours!) and just zoned out.  Here the task was either very picky and required the weeder to pull out thousands of tiny weeds growing between gravel or very labouring and required that you dig over every square inch of earth pulling up the lattice-weed on the way.  I chose the latter and the girls all clustered into a gaggle of broken English and good humour and got stuck into the little stuff.

After a pleasant morning we broke for lunch.  I wasn’t expecting much, a sarnie perhaps, but was incredibly impressed with a large cooked breakfast buffet style.  Even with all the staff tucking in we all had plenty.  With a slightly full stomach we cracked back on and soon the sun was taking its toll.  I made a mental note to stock up on water for the next day. 

The other thing taking its toll was the sandflies.

Sandflies are the only menace worth mentioning in New Zealand.  The country was blessedly free of snakes, had only rare dangerous spiders and not a large predator in sight.  What it does have is a species of blackfly about the size of a matchead that requires blood to breed.  And its favourite type of blood is human blood.  Sandflies are talked either down or up by Kiwis.  They don’t want to spook visitors with tall tales of being hit by thousands at once, but at the same time the little bastards are absolutely everywhere and an unholy terror.  A sandfly bite matches and challenges a mosquito bite for itching and they take ages to heal.  They can swarm about someone in battalion strength numbers and almost drain the poor sod dry of blood.  Thankfully, they don’t like DEET and hate Mosiguard.  However, be out near a stream or shore line and not slathered in the aforementioned and you can seriously be made to regret it.  The worst I saw in my time in NZ was 200 hundred on Cescas back (in the Nelson lakes).

The numbers in Furneaux were thankfully less than in other places, but bites were exceedingly common on that first day.  The stream ran right by the gardens of the chalets and we were exposed to multiple attacks.  Everyone made plans to combat that the next day.  We finished up at 1:30pm and relaxed for the evening.  The other girls went for a trip in the company kayaks and there was much talk about fishing over the next few days.  However, I was happy to relax that first night with another well earned beer.  Got to love staff prices at the bar.  Any illusions about being under fed after the large lunch were banished when dinner turned up for staff at 5:30pm.  Another massive and greatly high quality meal was dished up and all the staff got stuck in.

There exists a well cultivated and friendly atmosphere at Furneaux between the staff members.  The lodge is very isolated in terms of geography and it is greatly to the managements credit that they have recognised this and run a gamut of staff perks to prevent high turnover or regular burnouts.  Basic perks like good food – more important than you’d think – and cheap drinks are just the start.  Staff can borrow the lodges equipment on their day’s off and go kayaking or fishing.  There is free WIFI, something that costs the earth via satellite connection but is vital to staff moral, and Sky TV with all the trimmings.   A comfy staff room brings the staff together and free pool when the bar is empty keeps the competitive spirit going.  However, by far the greatest innovation is called “Thirsty Thursday” where the management puts a wedge of cash behind the bar and buys every member of staff free drinks for as long as it lasts.

Such a fine balancing act explained why we were put in “the possums” as this prevented anyone from having to move around rooms and perhaps upset people.

The greatest facet was of course that this all extends to WOOFers as well as full time staff.  So many places treat WOOFers as “lesser” to full time staff, but here they are treated very well indeed.  This method of management reminded me of my own – a happy staff works hard and plays hard – and I was not surprised to find out that the owner had worked in a city job before buying Furneaux.  The owner’s name was Geoff and he arrived back from Nelson the next day.  Like many Kiwi’s he exhibited the relaxed but hardworking bonhomie that we have come to greatly like about this country.  Very relaxed in his kingdom home he made all the WOOFers feel welcome, but checked up on us a few times a day as we worked. 

And worked we did.

After-work highlights included fishing off the wharf and kayaking into the inlet.  During the kayak expedition 30 dolphins swam up to the kayak and Cesca leapt into the freezing waters to swim amongst them. 

5 Days later the weeding was almost done (and I had run out of Audible downloads to listen to),

and sadly we had to leave Furneaux for the journey down to Christchurch and a meet up with Arabella.  We promised to come back…

…and four weeks later we did.

Our second trip to Furneaux was during a windy day and the crossing to the inlet was incredibly rough.  Waves crashed over the small Cougar Ferry and the entire journey was like being in a washing machine.  It was great fun, but more than a little scary!

Work the second time around was a little different but still not too taxing, we spent a day sanding down the decking readying it for painting.

I spent a day cutting wood (which was a lot of fun – little destructive bugger that I am)

A Day moving logs

A day edging all the gardens (this was hard work and left me with blisters on my hands)

…and a day fixing the boss’s laptop!

Finally after 5 more days we left Furneaux for the last time (until next time!).  The experience here had been about as good as WWOOFing can get and had more than made up for the gig in Kangaroo Island. My faith in the whole enterprise had been renewed completely and my love for New Zealand increased permanently.

If you are in the Sounds, looking for work, I definitely recommend checking them, and the Sounds, out.

Regards,

Basho

Comments always welcome!

Basho

Central North Island simmers and steams, bubbles and spews. The pungent smell of sulphur emanates from the rising hot steam in a harsh and uninviting landscape. Lakes have formed in the calderas of volcanoes where once mighty eruptions occurred the likes of which we have not seen in our lifetime of which epic stories are told. Mud pools bubble at the surface, great fountains of boiling water charge out from large pools below the earth’s crust and minerals colour the bare craggy rock in rich primary colours.

Plant-life of course finds a way to take root in the surrounding area and with it humanity thrives. Population numbers here are high by NZ standards despite the two vast dormant volcanoes hidden beneath Lakes Rotorua and Taupo.

 

Lake Rotorua and Rotorua Museum

Lake Rotorua at dawn is a sight to beheld. The lake steams against the blue, blue sky as the light glistens across the still blue water. The smell of sulphur permeates the air and birds fill the skies in search of a cool spot to rest. In this environment you become increasingly aware of the earth as a living breathing organism. To really appreciate this amazing scene you must take a dip at the Polynesian Spa. There are eight outdoor pools to dip in and out off at leisure and the most beautiful lakeside view. The thermal pools are cloudy white with minerals and organic matter which floats around you. The advise is to dip for only 15 minutes at a time and rehydrate often as it is easy to overheat, but in return you get to look like you are on the cover of Conde Nast Traveller magazine. For a less crowded experience go straight here first thing in the morning.

Rotorua township is not particularly remarkable from an ascetic viewpoint, but gems can still be found here. Top of our list was the Rotorua museum, within walking distance from the spa, it is held in a beautiful old Bath House. The museum is mainly dedicated to its heritage as a geothermal spa and therapeutic treatment centre. In its heyday treatments were administered in individual rooms with sunken baths powered by the lake and electrocution therapy was even used. An engaging exhibition also details the events of Mt Tarawera eruption of 10 June 1886 where many villages were buried along with the world renowned Pink and White Terraces. Described as the ‘Eighth Wonder of the World’ people from all over the world would have come to bathe in the terraces geothermal waters. The Bath House roof terrace enjoys extensive views of both Rotorua township and the lake.

Ever present throughout New Zealand and no less so here is Maori culture. Traditional Maori evenings can be enjoyed including tasting hangi (a traditional meal cooked in the ground). Though this offers an interesting insight into their culture we chose to miss this on overly-touristic grounds. Later we learnt that to sample ‘good’ hangi you must attend a real Maori ceremony. I have yet to taste hangi but hope it will challenge my taste-buds when I do. A historically significant Maori church sits on the shores of the lake but sadly we were unable to navigate the tiny old streets in our ‘Mammoth’ campervan so we leave you this gem to discover.

   
 

Hell’s Gate

Just a short journey north east of the lake leads you to the geothermal park of Hell’s Gate. The stench of sulphur invades the nostrils with even more vigour here, but this is an impressive place not to be missed. From small fumaroles that puff like a Cuban cigar to great chasms that boil and steam with a fog like haze. To see is to believe! It is like stepping onto another planet that has no concept of plant or animal life. Here everything will kill you. Still there is beauty and pleasure to be found even in this most alien of places. 

 

James ruminating in the warm mud spa and the thermal pool we enjoyed looking over Hell’s Gate!

Strangely enough you can enjoy a mud spa and thermal pool here! Having enjoyed the luxury of the Polynesian Spa that morning the thermal spa here was not a draw for us, we came for the mud spa! During off peak season you get a mud pool to yourselves which we were glad of as it is quite an intimate and fun experience smearing each other with thick slimy clay-like mud from the bottom of the pool. Now the fun really starts when rinsing the mud off in the pool and then showering the rest off before entering the warm and inviting thermal spa pool. Needless to say the shower was ice cold and my slightly padded bikini top had absorbed an insane amount of residual mud. James was only too thrilled to watch me shriek and squirm in agony whilst I cleaned myself and my bikini! Finally three minutes later we quietly slipped into the spa only to realise that everyone in the spa had heard my screams! Luckily the heat of the spa camouflaged my embarrassment, but did not stay long!

 

Early morning at Lake Rerewhakaaitu

DOC campsites grant you the freedom that holiday parks just can’t and Lake Rerewhakaaitu at the base of Mt Tarawera was no exception. The low morning mist over the lake felt as if you were the first ever people to enjoy this place. Ducks quietly paddles across the reed riddled lake. There was a sense of comfort knowing such tranquil places exist between the effervescence of the region.

 

The wondrous colour palette of Wai-O-Tapu

In contrast, further south Wai-O-Tapu is a vast geothermal hotspot complete with rivers of sulphur, lakes of multitudinous colours, cooking pot pools and even pools the shape of Australia! Though the highlights here are the famous Champagne Pool and Lady Knox Geyser. The Champagne Pool, shown above and at the top of this feature, effervesces with steam from an extremely deep flute-shaped pool edged by a magnificent rich primary colour palette. The orange is created by layer upon layer of arsenic, so “Don’t lick it!”.

At 10:30 daily Lady Knox lets off some steam!

Lady Knox Geysers was discovered by unsuspecting criminals using the water to wash their clothes. In doing so washing powder was added to the water in the funnel which acted as a catalyst and caused the first known eruption from the vast underground pool. Eruption heights depends of the volume of water within the underground pool, but this eruption was considered to be about 50m high. Today it reaches an impressive 30m and is still activated by washing powder at 10:30 each day for the paying spectators.

The geyser initially begins to froth and foam at the top, pouring white suds down the protruding funnel as steam rises above. As Lady Knox reaches fever pitch water gushes out with the force of a fireman hose gushing vertically into the air. A blanket of water droplets floats on the wind so camera protection is advised! All said it was touristy but an impressive sight non-the-less.

Lake Taupo in considerably different weather

Lake Taupo is the mothership in comparison to Rotorua in size and volcanic prowess. Classified as a dormant supervolcano, created about 26.5 thousand years ago, the last eruption here is believed to have ejected 100 cubic kilometers of material of which 30 cubic kilometers was ejected within a few minutes! Ash from the eruption was reported to have turned the sky red over China and Rome.

The view over the lake is serene and tells nothing of its violent history. Looking over the shores on a clear day you are blessed with a beautiful view of Tongariro National Park, home of Mt Doom! Lake Taupo is home to fishing in a big way and most particularly trout fishing which reminded me of my Grandfather who was a wonderful trout fisherman. Whilst backpacking everything comes down to price and this activity sure was pricy so we shall saved it for a rainy day in Scotland! Taupo is also a great place for to make a leap out of a plane, though we chose Queenstown for all our crazy adventures.

Lake Taupo is a wonderful place in sunshine but when the rain sets in, which it did for 5 days after we arrived, it is time to seek drier climes. The East coast is the right place to hole out in with its potent vineyards, art deco buildings and dry coastal air and so we returned to the region a few days later.

Volcanoes in North Island come in all shapes and sizes, from lake-filled to snow-capped. But none more iconic or famous than the cone-shaped volcano of Mt Ngauruhoe encapsulated forever in Lord of the Rings as Mt Doom. Tongariro National Park is home to three impressive beasts of volcanoes; Mt Ruapehu, Mt Ngauruhoe and Mt Tongariro itself. When the clouds and rain hugs the towering slope of the mountains you would be fooled into believing there are not mountains here at all. Even with a fine mist of persistent rain crossing gently over the peaks this is an impressive place to be. We arrived to just such a mountainless landscape and Whakapapa DOC campsite (pronounced Fakapapa in Maori) was a great place to reside in bad weather. We recommend it for its location, wilderness feel, well stocked shop and pleasant staff.

My Ruapehu behind the clouds

The Tongariro Crossing from Mt Ngauruhoe to Mt Tongariro is talked about by everyone here. “Have you done it?” “Are you doing it?” But the main concern is not your laziness level it is the weather conditions. Sadly for us it was still in the realms of experienced trampers with all the gear in early spring. Skiing is still possible in September, but not a patch in the European Alps so we opted for a beautiful tramp through heathland to an impressive waterfall to take in views of the three mountains.

 

Our three hour tramp and for James that meant “Scroggin’ time” again.

On the southern slopes Mt Ruapehu, Ohakune is another lovely spot within the National Park. The town has a Verbier vibe about, with shops aimed towards the moneyed crowd. There is a decent DOC site and a lovely Holiday Park with carved wooden basins in the amenities, luxury. The walking track to Waitonga Falls has impressive views of this mountain and great reflections on a still day. The LOTR location for Gollum’s waterfall was filmed in these parts.

Mt Ruapehu mirrored in the water near Ohakune

The volcanic heart of North Island is both impressive and intriguing and makes you feel small and powerless. You again an  understanding of how much we take the ‘soft side’ of nature for granted. Here you do not have this luxury as the hostility of the environment is all encompassing. Ultimately it gives you an new perspective on the world we live in and its ultimate prowess.

Cesca

I have always loved mountains.  Either looking up to their framing of the valleys below or being able to stand on their summits and view the distant vistas they offer.  New Zealand has offered some of the most amazing mountains I have seen outside the ski fields of Europe and I share with you now some of those discoveries here.

North Island – Mount Tongariro

Mount Tongariro is actually an entire volcanic complex and World Heritage site.  It is located 10 miles southwest of Taupo, and comprised of three active volcanoes dominating the landscape of the central North Island.  We first saw the complex from the van on our arrival at lake Taupo.  Its snow caped peeks were visible in the far distance over the lake above the shoreline.  The park itself is roughly split into two parts.  The main mountain town of Whakapapa is half way into the mountains and the base of the ski fields that sit atop its leading road.  It has all levels of accommodation and comfort but we made tracks straight for the DOC campsite that sits between the road and a river.  The average DOC site is a simple affair, but this one was much more.  It had hot water – one of the few! – powered sites, a laundrette and a shop.  All unlikely findings in a DOC camp.  It also had one of the greatest views in the world. 

Or at least it should have…

The fog was in the day we arrived and not a mote let alone a mountain could be seen. 

“There is actually a mountain around here?” Cesca asked the DOC shopping assistant as he took our camp fee’s. 

He laughed, “Yes, usually, its the big one just behind this building.  You’ll see it tomorrow!”

We did see it the next day… through the incessantly strong rain. 

The DOC have a large information centre in the middle of Whakapapa that dispenses advice about the famous Tongariro Crossing.  This crossing is actually part of a much harder 5 day walk around the base of the entire mountain range.  It is famous for two reasons, firstly it is possible – and recommended – to do the crossing in one day, making the walk the most tramped in the country.  The other reason is that because of the numbers of walkers (sometimes 2000 a day) many people drastically underestimate the difficulty.  High alpine walking is always dangerous as the weather is very very changeable.  The DOC info-centre has a sign board keeping the scores; 5 rescues, 2 broken limbs and 1 death already this year.  Given the numbers that undertake the crossing this was not a high percentage, but it was perhaps the reason for the moodiness of the DOC official at the info desk.  I asked her the weather and she almost sighed,

“Have you got mountain gear, ice axes and crampons?” she asked.

“Erm, no”

“Then its not possible today”

“How about guided?” I asked.

“There will be no guides who can take you, the weather is too bad”

She gave me a stern look, but I merely shrugged.

“Never mind then, we will do another walk, perhaps the waterfall.”

I moved off to the side and the very next man in the line  – who had overheard all of this -  said,

“What is the weather like today?”

The lady sighed again… She probably answered this question many many times a day. 

So instead of the crossing, we walked the fantastic waterfall route through the base of the mountains.  This was a 3 hours walk around a loop of very varied landscapes and well worth the effort.  Across the remains of prior volcanic flows we walked, over fast running rivers, past amazing plants and wildlife.  As for the falls themselves; they were lovely.  High in the distance the mountain played hide and seek with us and our cameras.

The crossing remained impossible the next day and so gave up on it and moved on to the other side of the mountain and Ohakune; another small village at the base of a road leading up to a ski field.  There we undertook the 3 hour Waitonga Falls walk.  This was another notable walk that passed many different types of view and terrain.  After a climb it opened over a sunken lava flow, which had a long snaking walkboard placed up on it.  It was a very clear day and we had great view of the mountains to our left as we crossed.

At the end of that section we again entered a forest and walked down for about 30 minutes before the path came to a end at a fast running river.  This river was fed by the large and beautiful Waitonga Falls.  But from our vantage point we couldn’t really see it as it was obscured by trees.  Cesca then had a brainwave and finding some timber (presumably put there to be built into a continuing path) threw it across the waters.  I looked at it balancing on two rocks.  Han Solo’s words came back to me;

“I have a bad feeling about this!” 

Falling in would not mean drowning (probably) but would certainly screw my camera and mean a one and half hour walk back while wet.  I placed a foot on the board, drew a breath and ran across.  The board twisted with my weight and then slipped!

I just made it.  Looking at the boards new position – it had somehow not fallen in – I knew that it would be a big challenge to get back.

But the better view was definitely worth it with the sun in a perfect position to highlight the spray coming off the rocks.  We stayed for lunch whilst we looked at the possibility of getting back over the river.  In the end we just went for it and my left foot only got a little wet, which was very lucky!

South Island.

Mount John. 

South island is almost one giant mountain range.  Or at least that’s how it felt to me driving around it.  We drove up to Tekapo, which lives at the base of the mountain, through the wilderness of Burke Pass.  This leads up to a large beautiful lake surrounded on all sides by mountains and forests.  On one edge is the closest of these; Mount John.  Atop this stands the Earth & Sky Observatory, which is New Zealand’s largest and most impressive.  By this point in our journey we were joined by Francesca’s older sister Arabella and had picked up a small camper to squeeze ourselves into.  Arabella has more get up and go than perhaps her small size belies.  It was the work of a few moments for her to have found a bike hire shop and have hatched the plan of getting to the top of the mountain where there lay a nice cafe in the observatory.  The bike hire guy gave us an appraising look,

“Bike much?” he asked.

“Not many mountains in the UK, but I do bike around Epping forest.  I have a Marin and Cesca has a Specialized Rockhopper” I answered.

He nodded, “Cool, ok you can take these two for the ladies and you yourself can have my bike.”

He wheeled out a very nice bike and I eagerly jumped aboard.  Then he gave us some advice about tackling the mountain,

“Head out along the rivers edge,” he said pointing to my map, “then it gets a little steep.” He looked at me.  “Then it gets bloody steep and you’ll have to walk for a few hundred meters until you meet the main road heading up the mountain.  From there its a ride to the top.”

“Sweet!”

We started the journey as proscribed by zooming down through town and passed the campsite at the mountains base.  Thence we were into the track leading around the lake. 

The colour of the water amazing.  Still waters here all exhibit some levels of volcanic residue and this lends the most beautiful spectrum of colours and hues.  I had often thought that – in this photo shopped world – New Zealand could not be the colours the adverts portray, but I was wrong.  It is.  The greens of trees and fields are brighter than in the UK, the blues of waters and lakes are either crystal clear or a wonderful mixture of blue and cyan.  Mountains are many shades of white and silver.

We made our way up to the road.  This was as windy as hell and made the ride up to the top quite dangerous and almost impossible as the many winding turns all played close to a serious drop off.  However, once to the top we all found the challenge had been worth it.  The top of the mount breaks into a collection of domes that house the telescopes.  These were amongst a low set of buildings and, up a small wooden path, the cafe.  This was a fantastic place to have lunch and we tucked into our scroggin’, which was much deserved after all that exercise. We eventually ran out of scroggin’ and so went inside to have a coffee. Our server turned out to be a university student who was one of the guides for the nightly star gazing tour.  I love star gazing and the chance to gaze through telescopes of that magnitude was not to be missed.  We signed up to the 10pm tour.

Coming down from Mount John was a contrast to riding up and took mere minutes on the tarmac road all the way down. At one point I got up to 55Kph on my odometer – breaking the speed limit!  We then rode around the base via the road and back into town to hand the bikes back.

That night we met up with the bus in town that took us up to the observatory.  Lights are banned at night due to the work of the telescopes, which are looking for new planets around distant stars.  We were driven up the same dangerous road that we had biked that day in total darkness.  We all exchanged worried looks but our Japanese driver had the measure of the feat. Atop we had a fantastic glance through the lens towards such delights as the Tarantula Nebula and Jupiter (I could count the brown rings!).  For me – perhaps more than for the others – this was a magical visit.  After – I swapped news of the possible discovery of Dark Matter (which I had read in New Scientist that morning) with the staff.

Mount Cook

This tale of New Zealand mountains has saved the best till last.  Mount Cook is the highest mountain in the country and a famous sight with its curved peak.  Generations of Kiwis have visited the mountains base, which is all DOC controlled parks, and wondered how you could possibly climb such a large mountain?  One such brave soul was Sir Edmund Hillary who used the Cook as a practice for the big push up Everest.  It is set amongst other large mountains all carved by the many glaciers that have retreated up the valley.

Getting to the park is good looking enough as you have to drive along lake Pukaki.  This lake is stupendously large and leads into one of my favourite parts of New Zealand.  Its amazing colour being a natural part of its glacial beginnings.

As any self respecting fan of the Lord of the Rings movie will tell you; the film’s climatic battle between the forces of Humanity and the Orcs of Mordor happens outside the gates of the city of Gondor.  Here the wizard Gandalf leads the Gondorians to defend their white city against 50 thousand Orcs and worse that are hammering at the gates.  It is here that the people of Rohan ride their 8000 horses down the mountain side to lift the cities’ siege.  It is a great moment in the film and it was filmed in this valley:

The Pelennor Fields themselves!

Once up to the small town of Mount Cook Village we ran into a serious rain storm and so spent the day investigating the Sir Edmund Hillary museum, which is based in the local hotel.  It had a short movie playing tribute to the Everest climb as well as the actual snow vehicles he used to race across the south pole.  Surrounding all this were many books written about the great man and smaller exhibits of his equipment.  Also on site was a small 3D cinema, which showed an interesting film about the stars (that the girls fell asleep in!) and a really cool movie about climbing the mountains (which used 3D glasses).  All in all, the museum was worth the visit – especially on a wet day – and got us all fired up about the possibilities of visiting the mountain.

The DOC information site here was especially large and took bookings for the many backcountry huts one can visit in this area.  It surprises me that DOC are so happy for people to just go wandering off into serious mountain wilds, but I guess this is the Kiwi way of things.  If you get lost and die, well, you were at least warned and given all the information you could have needed.  Arabella loves information sites like this and we spent 30 minutes or so checking that the walk we had planned was the best possible use of our time.

Braving the rain again we hunkered down at the local DOC camp site – at the start of the walk – and awaited the morning with the hope of a clear view.  When I awoke I tore back the curtains to see that our wait had not been in vain:

The walk up to the best view of the mountain is 4 hours easy.  known as the hooker Valley walk it meanders up the side of a river, crossing it once, and passed all sorts of special geological features.  We packed up lots of water, food and scroggin’ and got going.  Amazingly we received a phone reception on the walk and so I was able to call my brother back in London and describe the view.  As if my words would be enough.  I have felt small against the backdrop of nature before, but the extreme wilderness of this walk was intimidating as much as it was heaven.

It was about an hour into the walk before the river turned to face Cook itself, lending us a photo opportunity not to be missed.

The mountain holds sway over all others in this range as if it is lord over them.  Its great height is almost all in the face and so it imposes just as much as Everest would do.  As we regarded it, its peak was constantly being hidden and revealed by fast moving clouds.  Surely at the top it must be intensely windy! 

Our final destination was the iceberg rich lake at the base of the retreating glacier.  This opened up the view and gave us breathtaking vistas of the clouds playing across Cook. It was almost impossible to take a bad photo and even the iPhone’s 2 megapixel camera managed this shot:

We sat there and ate our lunch while gazing at the mountain.  To our right some kids played a game of trying to hit the small floating icebergs with the shore stones.  Eventually we went up to the glacial edge by wading through a scrabble of stones and pebbles, the pile up of which is the slope wall of the lake.  I found there some fantastic flat pebbles and took the opportunity to demonstrate my life-long passion for skimming stones.

This was not my first time at seeing a glacier, after all I have skied on top of three or four in Europe – but it was my first time of seeing the end wall of one.  They are extremely dirty at the ends – the mud and rock being crushed by its slithering splays across its face like chocolate cake on the face of a small child – but you could still sense the strength that bends nature to its will and carves whole ranges in its passing.  After seeing it I was looking forwards to visiting Fox glacier (a coming post).

Finally, having eaten our fill and taken our time – we started back along the path, back towards the starting point of our day.  Many a rearwards glance to Cook and many stops to take reflection photos in the pools lining the river broke the journey. 

However, I arrived back at the van both tired and happy.

The next day was great sunny weather and we headed back along the road we had driven up and thence off into the East of New Zealand.  Leaving the mountain behind us we could see it for miles and miles such was the clarity of the weather. 

I think Cook was my favourite mountain visit and one of my highlights of the entire journey to this wonderfully wild and very big country.

Regards,

Basho.

The journey down took the best part of the day and it was getting dark and raining hard by the time we got to the road leading to the Kohu Kohu ferry.  As we drove down the access road I heard the sound I had been dreading; the sound of a flat tire.  We managed to limp onto the jetty and look at the time table.  A ferry was due in 5 minutes – no way to change the tire by then – and the last of the day was due 20 minutes later. 

The ferry did arrive and the crew offered their apologies but insisted that we must change the tire before boarding. I could hear a slight chuckle in their voices and they whistled and shook their heads.

Thus we had our challenge: could we change it before their return?

Bloody right we could! 

Putting on my rain coat I lay in the wet and loosed the spare tire, while Cesca found the jack and started on the nuts.  I had never changed a large vehicle’s tire before, but luckily for me the enormous 10-ton jack had diagrams explaining where to put everything and a helpful picture showing that dropping the van on my head was not a good idea.  Getting the nuts loosened took every ounce of my strength and pulled skin from my hands.  Then the jack went in.  The winding of the jack was geared so that maximum effort gave a smooth but deadly slow lift.  Cesca could see the ferry in the distance, making its way back.

“Go put a cup of tea on!” I gasped as rain seared down my face.

“What? You want tea now?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes please, and get a towel ready!” I called back.

I wound, and wound, and thought of all the Goju Karate lessons I could.  My heart pounded and my clothes were sodden with rain.  Eventually the flat-tire came off and the new wheel went on.  Damn my hands!  The cold was freezing my fingers making it harder to tighten the nuts that Cesca was passing me.  The ferry was almost back and I could hear the pounding of its engines clearly.  Rushing as fast as I could I rolled the flat tire around to the back and into the brace under the rear and then sped into the cab.  Coat off, face towelled, soaked trousers changed, tea in hand – all in under ten seconds.

The ferry arrived and we smoothly drove down onto the ramp.  The crewman from earlier came up to the window,

“Get it done then hey?” he asked smiling.

As nonchalantly as possible I looked up from my paper and across at him,

“Of course, old boy” I smiled and sipped my tea and then dunked a biscuit.  He smiled back through the rain and nodded – a small sign of respect.  Well, at least the English reputation around here was up a few notches!

The next day we stopped to get the tire repaired and made it to Hokianga.  The harbour itself is very very large and not at all like its name suggests.  This isn’t a Newcastle-like hive of activity.  This area of the the country is amazingly underdeveloped and graceful curve of the coast is nestled by age old Marui villages and few locals. The quiet drive to the mouth of the inlet was very peaceful.  The mouth is where all the action lies and is stunningly beautiful.

We stopped at the head of the harbour and marvelled at the meeting of the waters

It was a bright and clear day and the walk did us good.  Standing on this headland gave us a great impression of the scale of things here.  Many people rush the Northland, or even skip it – deciding instead to head straight down from Ackland.  Truly, these people have missed out.  As is usual at these times, Cesca and I continued our deeper discussions.  This was the beginning of a theme for us: “What sort of place do you want to live?”  This deceptively simple question brings up all sort of others and like all great questions requires a long time to decide. I suggested to Cesca that she try reading some Buddhism texts of mine.  Little did I know how she would take this advice to heart…

We ground away a hour on that subject while watching the sea grind away the sand dunes.  Then we headed into the forest.

This is called the Kauri coast for a very good reason, all along the 110km of exist a superb forest sanctuary.  The last remains of even larger ancient Northern forests and containing the largest of trees you will ever see; the mighty Karui themselves.  These mighty plants have been holding court here for over 2000 years and are increasingly rare.  Unsurprisingly, the remaining ones are very protected.  Tane Mahuta (God of the forest) was marked as a short walk from the road.  We parked up and made our way in, slightly sceptical that we would see it clearly amongst all the other trees in the canopy.  The path lead around and Cesca asked, which one was the God?  I professed a mocking laugh that the tree was hiding and then, as I turned, I saw it,

“Fucking hell!” I exclaimed.

At 51m tall and 13m round, Tane Mahuta is the largest damn tree I have ever seen.  It dwarfs the trees all around and they were not short.  A simply enormous trunk leads up to branches the size of lesser trees, like trees growing out of a mother-tree.  Everyone is awed by it and the conversation is muffled and quiet around its basin.  Majestic indeed. 

Cesca was glad to have a wide angle lens for this one!  We passed on still talking about the trees size. 

It was a few days until our 4th wedding anniversary and we had plans to spend it somewhere romantic.  So we pushed hard passed Auckland and around to the Coromandel.  I felt sorry to leave the Northland because, as a starting taste of New Zealand, it was a great deal of fun and not a little romantic already.

(Now passing you over to Francesca)

New Zealand’s Northland holds many gems for the wide-eyed traveller, but it is The Coromandel Peninsular that is held in particularly high regard by both Kiwis and tourists alike. Evidently this is due to the rugged wilderness and beach life-style, which suits us down-to-the-ground. So as we drove through the night to get here we realised this new place had much to live up to.

We spent five lovely days wandering around the wonderfully curvaceous but narrow coastal roads and inlets in our 2 berth abode. There are plenty of remote locations complete with DOC (Department of Conservation) campsites to explore, which we did despite not being allowed on unsealed roads. Our journey took us from Thames up the West coast to Colville, across the unsealed road to Waikawau Bay and then back down the East coast via Hahei, Hot Water Beach and Waihi to the Bay of Plenty.

Driving our 6.6m campervan over the mountainous pass between Colville and Waikawau Bay was unnerving to say the least due to the amalgamation of road quality, narrowness and steepness. However this was a highlight of our trip due to there feeling of isolation and remoteness. As rain beat down on us over night we lay awake wondering if we would make it out of this soggy DOC 250 pitch camping field. We inched off our pitch in the morning all the while expecting to get stuck and yet we made it.  Our new found happiness vanished around the first corner – as we attempted a manoeuvre around a vehicle on the track our back wheels span creating a fine spray of mud cascaded behind us. We were stuck! Embarrassingly we asked for help from the burly Maori owner who pulled us out in 5, with typical Kiwi ease. Relieved we returned over the mountain pass and gladly joined the sealed roads again! 

We travelled south to Hahei, our destination of choice for a spot of romance, to enjoy our wedding anniversary. It was a luxury to debunked from the campervan and check-in to ‘The Church’ accommodation. The private huts with en-suite bathrooms were delightful and a luxurious in comparison to foam mattresses on top of a campervan table! The huts were thoughtfully appointed although the shower was a little small for two and had no light! We were made very welcome by the delightful staff. Here we indulged ourselves with a candlelit dinner at ‘The Church Restaurant’ in the converted church building. The food was delicious and the local wine equally so.

Walking to Cathedral Cove on our anniversary there was a beautiful view across the blue ocean which buffeted against the surrounding islands with a white foam. My mind began to unwind just that little bit more. Cathedral Cove is fabulous. The clear sunlit water ebbs and flows under the arch with each wave smoothing the sand in its path. I enjoyed paddling my feet in the not so warm water and admiring the sculpture it had created. The small neighbouring beach has lovely clean sand and some amazing rock formations both on and off the beach. At the end there is a high waterfall that must be a delight in summer. Visiting this area is a must.

Close by is the wonder that is Hot Water Beach where really hot water bubbles up under the surface of the sand and you can challenge yourself with digging a pool. As we discovered this is quite a challenge in Spring as the tide keeps washing any semblance of a pool wall away. Amazing fun though.

Hot Water Beach with it’s bubbling sand and J trying to keep the perfect pool from the endless tide

I’m not really in favour of the whole Holiday Park experience myself, but it seems to be a necessary evil when campervaning around New Zealand. However, there is an exception at Waihi Beach Top 10 Holiday Park. there was all the standard facilities in pristine condition but the highlights were all the extras; including spa, pool, gym, waterslide, barbeque, sundeck with parasols and sun-loungers and beautiful gardens. We awoke there to glorious sunshine so I graced myself with a dip in the outdoor spa and enjoyed my usual 50 lengths in the pool. What a truly wonderful way to wake up.

We did our usual thing of arriving a full day ahead of the booking and yet somehow wangling ourselves a free upgrade and not being charged for the extra day.  I think that this is something to do with the puppy-eyed faces Cesca can pull when things seem not to be going her way.  People all around rush to her aid, anything to protect the innocent gentleness behind those eyes.  In another time such a power would have been called a mighty and terrible witchcraft – and perhaps I would have agreed with this Inquisition were it not for the fact that Cesca simply does not know that she does this! (and, of course, she has those eyes ready for me too…)

Anyway, after a little haggling we were given this:

[Cue A-TEAM intro music] “De de de… de de de… de-de-de-de-de… de-de-de-de!”

“Ten years ago, a crack commando unit was sent to New Zealand for crimes they didn’t commit. Today, still wanted by the government, they survive as backpackers of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire…

…a campervan?”

The Britz Campervan – or “The Mammoth” as it became known – was 6.6 meters long and almost 4 meters high.  It was a monster of design, the insides replete with a full working gas hob, a fridge, a shower, a toilet, a sink, a microwave (!) and a double bed.  It was also, unfortunately, painted in the most terrible bright white colour that made us stand out for miles around.  Hundreds of miles could pass for the cost of one one tank of diesel and its batteries had enough electrical power to keep the inside lights going for 3 nights.  Finally, it stored 120 litres of fresh water and could tank 30 litres of waste water before needing emptying.  It was therefore more a sort of house on wheels than a simple conveyance.  A kind of mobile country, as after all it did have “Britz” emblazoned on the side. Livery that I took to be some sort of dire warning to all and sundry that there were English people at the controls of this beast and so they had better watch out!

Parking this thing was going to be fun, I could tell.

We stocked up at the supermarket and headed north out of Auckland towards the simply named “Northland”.  There is something in that name that suggested to me that the Kiwi’s were not totally enamoured of the “north”; like it was a different country.  This feeling was seemingly confirmed when the motorway out of Auckland quickly petered out and we were suddenly travelling along the Kiwi version of main roads.  These are all over the country and somewhat scary. At any one moment they could sling around corners well over 180 degrees with only a few inches of road before a heart shattering drop, or they might have given way to large slips that have taken 6 meter wide bites out of road.  Amazingly these slips were old enough to be marked by line painters.  That is to say they had got line painters to draw lines around the missing road sections, but had not actually repaired them!

We wound our way up the coast heading towards Waiwera and our first overnight stop.  Camping in a van is not as easy as you would think.  New Zealand has quite definite rules about where and when you can camp overnight and your options are limited to finding a quiet road away from the cops, a rural DOC (Department Of Conservation) camp – basically a sliver of grass and a long-drop toilet – or a “powered site” in a holiday camp.  These powered sites are parcels of parking space alongside many other campers that come with drains for your waste and water taps to fill the tank.  Their main benefits are the 240 volts of power they provide, the hot showers, the laundry’s and the internet.  Their drawback is the cost.  Our first night was a wallet crunching $36.  This shocked both Cesca and I and we laughed that this night was our “one extra expense”, but the joke was on us.  Little did we know at the time but $36 was about average for the entire country. 

Suddenly New Zealand was over budget and we had only just arrived.

After that night we drove to Pahia and the Bay Of Islands via small hills and winding countryside roads.  It was at Pahia that we came across the ubiquitous iSites for the first time and booked a journey out onto the water that was departing in the next hour.  But where to stay that night?  The iSite worker came up with a novel solution,

“Why not park overnight in the town’s carpark?  Nobody checks it anyway.”  This information meant a camping cost of only $8 that night.  Perhaps New Zealand would not be so financially bad; we just needed to be smart about it.

Soon we were upon the deck of the “Kings” cruiser heading out through the bay. 

The islands are everywhere; soft lumps of trees rising out of the distant waters like giant green whales.  Their great number seemed to me as almost unfair.  How could such a blessed country exist that had so many beautiful islands so close together?  All other countries would love to have such an aesthetic abundance. 

I suddenly recalled a Kiwi I had met back in Australia.  He had been most unimpressed by the Australian fuss made over the Whitsunday’s and its majestic, but packed, beach.

“Ha!  We have a beach 20 times as long as this and no body on it!”  He had sneered derisively.

Could it be that New Zealand would be like this all over?  A supra-blessed country that all others would pale next to?  The wind blew into my face as I wondered about all this, its passing blowing in my ears, a sound only disturbed by the ever present clicking of Cesca’s camera.

Soon we reached our voyages destination: the Hole in the Rock.  A somewhat touristy point, but the natural hole in this small island attracts hundreds of thousands of visitors each year.  This is mainly because you can pass right through it. Our captain skilfully directed his vessel into the hole on one side, through the tunnel and out the other side.  Obviously this was all in a days work for him but it was impressive for us none the less.

The next day we left Pahia, awoken from our carpark campsite by the next door Fire station setting off its mind bendingly loud alarm, and headed straight up the coast towards the mythical “90 Mile Beach”. 

This beach is actually only 75 Miles long, but believe me when I say that this is long enough.  It is a straight large beach stretching from the beginning of Hokianga Harbour to the very top of Cape Reinga.  The journey to the top of the cape is 104km by road and not undertaken lightly. 

One solitary road wends up the narrow peninsula through logging country, low rolling hills full of sheep and little towns with very few places to refuel.  Eventually the road gives out and you are on some of the roughest gravel to be found in New Zealand.  This being our first time on it we found it a very sobering experience, as a flat tire here could be very nasty to deal with if it were on a tight corner or a steep slope.  We picked our way through wishing we could take the other route.

The other route was of course to drive along the beach itself.  However, as much as this was a straighter line and therefore shorter, it was only to be attempted by the brave, the foolish and those with 4×4. 

As the tide recedes a short time-gap exists where the beach is hard enough to drive on.  Correctly timed the hard sand will not dry into dunes before you get to the other end.  Fail to time it correctly, falling prey to the quicksand-like sand slips or simply get your engine or wheels bogged, and your vehicle will be claimed by the sea and become part of the legend.  All campervan hire agreements stipulate avoiding it on pain of being uninsured, but I realised that this was due to peoples’ poor timing and not because it couldn’t be done – I saw on a flyer that a few coach trips do it.  The beach has only two entry points roughly speaking at the top and bottom.  We parked in the lower one and considered the beach.

New Zealand beaches have something weird about them and it took us a few moments to realise what it was.  It’s the waves.  The beaches are constantly buffeted by waves, as are all beaches, but only here have I seen so many at a time.  Line after line of white crests stretch back into the sea and the crashing of so many waves so close together on a beach of such prodigious size is a loud sound indeed.  It possess an animalistic unrelenting roar that sticks in the mind and, for us, led to an intense feeling of peace. 

People love beaches as they love all of natures boundaries; where the land meets the sky, where the mountain meets the valley.  This is why we climb high mountains and walk long beaches, why we love harbours and forests.  Humans love to stand on one side and look out at the other; towards the majesty of nature.

As you can imagine a 90 Mile Beach is a consumet place to engender such emotions.  It is where the mind meets the body, where the soul meets the mind and where questions of oneself can be asked.

We loved it and went for a walk along the sands.  After a few hundred meters we came across someone else enjoying the view; a snoozing seal.  We approached thinking that he may have been hit by one of the many 4×4’s that race along the beach, but he raised his head and fixed me with a look that simply asked us to leave him alone.  Apart from the photo’s we took we did.

Leaving the beach we drove up the hills towards the far north point of New Zealand; Cape Reinga lighthouse.  This was where the road became rougher than I had hitherto experienced.  The final assault was up a narrow “road” that led to the complete letdown of a building site.  The terrible road was in the process of being properly tarmac’ed and this car park was being rebuilt.  We didn’t let that stop us but parking in the middle of such a place made me want to reach for the hardhat just to leave the camper. 

We walked out of the car park, to the peak, and suddenly saw what all the fuss was about.

The lighthouse clings to the end of the cliffs a couple of hundred meters down a hill.  The beauty of the vision – all 180 degrees of it – was worth every penny I paid to come to New Zealand.  On the left a few brave looking cliff walks led down to the very end of the beach and sand dunes.  Ahead sat the hill leading to the shear cliff drop into the Tasman sea.  This spot was traditionally the point that the Maori brought their dead.  Presumably, being the most northern point, this meant that their souls went back across that water to the Polynesian Islands of their ancestry.  A moving story when presented with such a view.  The light house was on the right down a well paved path that swept into the side of the cliffs. 

I remember thinking that if this had been England then a lot more would have been made of this place.  More roads, more people, some shops, a chippy, etc.  New Zealanders on the other hand seemed to have a grasp of leaving things “wild and woolly” and giving you a sense of the remoteness, the isolation and the peace from people.  I cast a glance over my back at the building site behind me and wondered how long that would last?

Cesca bounded up, a big smile on her face, she grasped and squeezed my hand, “Ready?” she asked.

I squeezed back and together we walked down to the lighthouse.

Part two coming…

Regards,

Basho

See both events from multiple angles including a wrist camera (the Bashocam! put into new service!) and set to a combination of Wings and U2.

The excellent wrist camera used by both jumpers is the OREGON Outdoor ATC 2K Digital Camera

Total running time is about 10 minutes

Hope you enjoy and, please, leave a comment!

Basho

Having vested ourselves of the plane to New Zealand from Sydney, and having made it through the somewhat mercurial Australian security check points with its “explosive smelling device”, we came to Auckland in the grip of a rain storm.  Fat welts of rain pummelled the pavements outside the airport doors throwing up a fine mist and risking localised flooding.  Well, this is New Zealand in winter!  As (Father-In-Law) Nick put it,

“If you can hack NZ in Winter then you’ll love it in summer!”

Not surprisingly we skipped the bus – a run through the deluge to the stop and a soggy bus ride was not appealing – and hailed a transfer from the airport.  This all seemed very civilised until the second hour of the thirty minute journey.  It seemed that the driver (a loose definition here based solely on his position in the car being behind the wheel) did not know his way around Auckland, which is always a good start for a transfer.  He also couldn’t find our hostel and eventually announced that it didn’t exist. 

“You have old copy, not up to date,” he proclaimed when Cesca showed him our Lonely Planet entry for our hostel.  That was his defended position until, eagle eyed to technology, I spotted the hostel’s location saved as a favourite on his GPS! 

After that he attempted to charge us double. 

A shockingly short journey to the later we arrived at Lantana Lodge and were dumped unceremoniously on the pavement outside.  Our “driver” raced off into the rain and he is possibly still circling Auckland trying to find the motorway interchange.

As we considered our fate the rain stopped and so we trudged up to the hostel.  Lantana Lodge was initially selected for its free WIFI, but I was most impressed by the entire experience as its host was a very nice guy and the hostel had a good homely feel.  Such things are important after the cramp, ever buzzing, “cattle class” bowels of modern airline travel. 

We immediately went out looking for “real NZ food”.  When we found it (soggy chips and meat pie floaters) we quickly decided to forget local fare and have a curry. Over the meal we made ourselves a solemn promise,

“I promise to see New Zealand, to meet its people, drink its wine and spy its creatures.  I promise to enjoy this opportunity to the fullest!”

The next day I awoke eager to get out into the wilds and experience the countryside, but first came the now obligatory city visit.  I don’t quite need dragging around a city but, since I come from one of the top cities in the world, it takes a lot to impress me. 

Auckland has the bustle of a real city and the skyline to suggest money but it seemed at first to lack some of the soul. It would not actually be until I visited Wellington’s Tae Papa museum that I would get to see Auckland’s soul properly and its very strong community spirit.

We swung around the centre and enjoyed a fantastic cafe and a good bookshop then we headed into the shopping district and purchased me a new pair of sun glasses (“sunnies” as they are known here).  So far so normal.  I was just finishing this blog post off in my head when Cesca suggested a trip form the bay.  We boarded the ferry from the south harbour and departed.

Then Auckland got me and I got it. 

The trip we took across the bay to the Devonport township on the far side of an extinct volcano was an eye opener and no mistake.  The Auckland skyline that had been so uninspiring when I was in amongst it suddenly looked majestic and modern from the water.  The bridge, which is a shadow of Sydney’s, suddenly looked like an elegant bracelet spanning the arms of the bay.  Not vulgar but understated: the jewellery of a lady not the chunky penis extension of The Goldern Gate.  My memories of the city now all hark back to that journey.  Once arrived at Devonport the entire feel changes.  This is much more of a wide and gentile suburb, seemingly a world away from the city, as the car access was miles around.  It sits invitingly across the bay tempting you to commute such a distance.  I bet Cesca that the house prices were astronomical and they were.  Such water front loveliness costs the earth. 

Up the dead-volcano we walked or more accurately climbed.  From the top the sheer size of a fully fledged New Zealand city (and there is only really three like this) came to view.  Nature is just bigger over here.

But I was not sated by only this view.  After an afternoon of relaxing in Devonport we headed back and went up to the SkyCity’s highest viewing platform.  This was a great experience at the sundown and I loved watching the cars race back along the roads far below our feet. 

So, again, we are in a city and again I cant wait to leave for the mountains.   But as before I find that Auckland contains some serious aesthetic beauty and for that I enjoyed it.  Even a human city as big as this cannot swallow of majesty of the New Zealand’s countryside upon which it lays and that is its saviour and blessing over lesser cities.

Regards,

Basho