South of Down Under

Well, here I go again, another country, another batch of epic stories. It all began with some crazy biosecurity at the Auckland airport where my camping gear went into quarantine, but Jen was waiting on the other side of security with a big smile and two helping hands to put my gear all back together. We picked up our rental car and upon each of us having a turn as drivers on the left hand side of the road we decided that Jen was the driver and I the navigator. Shortly after arrival we were adopted by a local family (Jen’s friend Simon) and whisked away to their bach (cabin by the ocean). It was a great way to come to a new country as it reminded us so much of our summers as children at our respective lakes, although it was the ocean and much more impressive. We took a day trip to Hot Water Beach where you can dig holes in the sand and create your own hot spring. We made our way back to Auckland where we stayed with Simon’s parents and were treated to some amazing kiwi hospitality. But the time had come to branch out on our own and begin phase 2 of the journey. With a couple of great maps and high hopes we headed north to Piahia, and found a decent hostel where we met some other Canadians. We took a ferry across the bay of islands to Russell, where we learned about a turbulent history with the local aboriginal culture – the Maori. The town used to be filled with brothels and hoodlums but is now a quaint little ocean town. We continued north to Henderson Bay where we happened across an amazing backpackers lodge in the middle of nowhere which happened to be run by a Calgarian. Jen and I lucked out with the master bedroom that had vaulted ceilings and a great view of the ocean. The place was crawling with German backpackers (just like in the Simpsons) but they were fabulously nice and we made some great friends, some of which may join us for travels on the south island. This was one of experiences that everyone stays longer than they intended too just because there is a certain sort of magic that is occurring and you can’t walk away too soon. Jen and I continued north to the northern most tip of the country called Cape Reinga, we made a wrong turn and ended up at these insane sand dunes. But sometimes life is about those wrong turns when you discover things you didn’t even realize you were looking for. We did find the cape eventually and saw where the Tasman Sea and the Pacific Ocean collided.
We ventured south back through Auckland and found our way to Rotovegas (Rotorura), tourist capital of NZ. But we are tourists after all and I though that all the volcanic activity was pretty impressive despite the constant whiffs of sulfur. We busted out our tent which we have fondly named Wilma, to be companion to our car Fred and our keys Pebbles. We made some American friends and as always drank far too much wine. We did a walking tour of the town and say some Maori carvings and some volcanic mud pools and steaming ground. We went to a spa/hot springs and onto Wai-o-tapu Volcanic Wonderland. Here we saw a geyser, champagne pools, craters, and all sorts of interesting touristy things.
We ventured further south to Taupo, a massive lake in the northern interior that was formed from a volcanic blast back in the day. We did the Tongariro crossing, which is known as the most famous one day hike in NZ. This hike is made even more famous with one of the mountains cameo appearance in the film Lord of the Rings as Mount Doom. So I have walked through the lands of Mordor and have seen craters and lava flows in a barren land that is less than inviting. By far one of the highlights of the trip, as each turn was jaw dropping.
Further south was the plan to New Plymouth to see my cousin Laura and her husband Chris. I, as navigator, calculated what appeared to be the shortest route to our destination. But have learned that 300km does not equate to 3 hours of driving. In fact, in this instance it equated to nearly 6 hours down the “forgotten world highway”, the road was gravel in parts, and one lane in other parts, in the heart of sheep country. Truly amazing but heart stopping as the road was barely wide enough for one car and the hobbit hole tunnel gave me a taste of death. Then out of nowhere we happened upon the town of Whangamomona where they were having their republic day. The highway was crawling with thousands of people and sheep. At the turn of the last century this town declared themselves a republic and was separate from NZ. Now in this old fashioned town (population 40) you vote for a goat as the mayor in this hectic celebration. Jen and I obtained some new passports and now are officially members of the republic.
We finally arrived in New Plymouth and spent the weekend with my cousins. My friend Mark from the town of Hawera (about 45 minutes away) came to town to act as tour guide and once again treated us to kiwi hospitality.
We will now venture to Wellington briefly before heading to the south island, which from what we have heard, is practically like being in another country. Much more rugged and full of mountains than the north country. I love New Zealand and have decided for the first time in a long time I feel like I am at home. As scary as it is for me to quit a secure job and walk away from my life, I think that that is exactly what I will do. For those of you that have been here you may understand the appeal and for those of you that haven’t you are welcome to come visit and you will understand why I will not be returning any time soon.