New Zealand: North Island Adventures...

Immediately upon arrival at Auckland Airport the British influence was evident. The language obviously, but also the love of and strict adherence to queues - no South American melees here! In an orderly fashion we made our way through immigration and customs. I don't think they would have cared if we'd presented officials with passports we'd made ourselves in crayon as long as we didn't have so much as a fragment of orange peel on us. A very environmentally protective country.

We were to impose ourselves on Ryan and Cyril's hospitality for an undetermined length of time (no spreadsheet for New Zealand!) which I'm sure was a terrifying prospect for them, but despite it being nearly 2 years since we'd seen them at Karen & Chris' wedding I was happy as a clam to bask in their company once more. In their lovely Zest apartment with views of the harbor we spent the rest of the day catching up, gossiping and drinking champagne.

Next day was sheeting rain so did limited sightseeing and ended up in a bar on the harbor, got "refreshed" and put off collecting the camper van for another day.... Next day was better weather so saw a bit more of Auckland and took the ferry over to Devonport: very picturesque, quaint and ever so slightly English feeling.

Picked up the van but decided to abandon it in a city center pay and display bay for the night in favour of more champagne and a dinner to say farewell to our genial hosts and congratulate Ryan on his new fancy-pants managerial job at Price Waterhouse Coopers. Finally, someone from Aston actually fulfilling the prospectus'' promises and having a high-flying corporate "career". During our catch up session Ryan told me about one guy we knew at Aston, doing some Engineering degree, who has ended up as [Ryan] "...one of those people who dance and clap and sing in the street" [Stef] "What, a Hare Krishna?" [Ryan] "Yeah, or a Buddhist monk or something...". More power to Chris, I bet he is very, very happy.

Next morning finally stopped cluttering up Ryan & Cy's apartment and bade them a fond farewell. Worked out a vague itinerary for the North Island on the back of a supermarket receipt and went for a scenic drive around the Coromandel Peninsular. Despite the winter weather the scenery was gorgeous, and spent the rest of the day marveling at the size of the sheep, cows, trees, in fact just about everything. They build things sturdy in New Zealand. In Devonport we walked past a group of guys who, had they not been in school uniform, I would have sworn were 30 year old bricklayers. If this is the size of the average NZ schoolboy I can only imagine what full grown All Blacks look like, thundering down a rugby pitch, ready to do a tap dance on your face in cleated boots...

Spent the first night in the Camper Van at Wahi Beach in a very lovely motor park, and to greet the glad new day had a stroll along the beach in the sunshine before breakfast. Then on the Rotorua where it was quite literally from the sublime to the ridiculous: ZORBING! On the hearty recommendation of Elf and Joanna we handed over $75 for the pleasure of launching ourselves into a giant plastic ball full of water and rolling ourselves down a hill. Chaos ensues... At one point Paul came from above me and delivered a full body slam so I was face first into a mouthful of water. I'm not entirely convinced it wasn't intentional... I spent the rest of the "ride" trying to scurry hamster-like up to the top of the ball to exact my revenge, but I didn't have the necessary body-mass. One of the Zorb-employees rather aptly called it relationship therapy for couples traveling together...

Couldn't resist a visit to the "Kiwi Encounter" program to learn about these rather stupid and ridiculous looking birds dying out. Without the intervention of the Department of Conservation only about 5% of Kiwi chicks would survive in the wild, so after 40-60 days incubation by the male bird (right on Kiwi sisters!) the eggs are taken to sites such as Kiwi Encounter for artificial incubation. Once hatched the chick is given some delicious bugs to eat and an "artificial diet" called "Mrs Miggins Meatloaf" to bulk it up. For some reason that name pleases me enormously. Once the chicks have reached 1kg they are released back into the wild in the same place where the egg was taken from.

We went into the nocturnal house and got to see a few kiwis up close and personal, not behind glass. They snuffle about delightfully in the undergrowth for bugs (external nostrils at the end of their long bills) and are endearingly ungainly. Had so buy a van mascot soft-toy kiwi - christened "Rod" in honour of Rod Stewart and his hair-don't.

More NZ-style madness the next day. Took a gondola up a hill and took in some lovely views over Lake Rotorua. It must be noted that Rotorua is a hot springs resort town and hence a lot of geothermal activity and sulfurous smells. Less than lovely. What better way to take your mind off the smell than to hurl yourself down a hill in a plastic toboggan on wheels with very basic steering and braking capabilities. This they call Luging and was apparently invented right there in Rotorua. It is actually a typically Kiwi-activity: born out of boredom with little regard for personal safety.

If there are hot springs then of course you must wallow in them. Which we did at the Polynesian Spa. I had a treatment booked so could use all the luxury pools but Paul only had access to the proleterian ones. As I am quite nice really I slummed it with him for a while before heading off to the Hugh Heffner Grotto style open air pools overlooking the lake. In solitude I lay back in 40 degree alkali water and contemplated the starlit night sky. A wonderful memory.

Interesting cultural difference side note: while we were at the spa a tour group of Japanese people turned up. The Japanese are very fond of their Onsen (hot springs) and are to be found in abundance across Japan. A usually reserved people, once at an onsen (usually same sex only) they shed their clothes and inhibitions in equal measure. While they kept their bathing suits on in the spa pools, the ladies changing room was a sea of naked flesh with only Westerners creeping about in towels with eyes fixed firmly on the floor. I was having trouble with my locker so a helpful and nude Japanese lady came over and helped me. I thanked her in Japanese and she responded with a formal little bow. Maybe it doesn't come across in print, but in person it was a very odd little encounter.

Before heading off the next morning we called into town for a few essentials: doormat, drill-bit, pack of multi-coloured biros, tea-light holder, mini stapler, etc etc. On the way to Taupo we had a spot of business to attend to at 5 Wharepania Crescent. We had to hand deliver a post card we had collected from a barrel on Post Office Bay in the Galapagos Islands (http://www.ecuador-travel.net/galapagos.site.postoffice.htm) to Mr & Mrs Albert from their son Ben. They were a little startled and confused, but recovered nicely and it was a fun experience!

More shite weather all the way to Taupo, but the friendliness of the managers of the De Bretts (only time I'll ever get into De Bretts, eh Felix L?) Motor Camp and Hot Springs more than made up for it. Had another hippo-wallow in hot springs water, then more delicious NZ lamb and wine. Now understand why everything here is so big - starting to get that way myself...

Next day we were in our way to Napier in perfectly foul weather. We were looking forward to seeing Napier due to it being a particularly interesting beach town with most buildings in the art-deco style as it was completely rebuilt after a 7.8 earthquake flattened it and changed the local landscape in 1931. What is really impressive, and indicative of the hardy NZ spirit is that the town was entirely rebuilt in 2 years. Real grafters.

However, it doesn't matter how charming an art-deco beach town is, in the pissing rain and gale force winds it looses the majority of it's allure. Undeterred, arranged a vineyard tour of Hawkes Bay for the next day. If it's bad weather you may as well be sauced! Sunday dawned bight and sunny though and Napier was a town transformed! First stop was the Mission Estate Winery, founded by priests in 1851. In 1900 (or so) they decided (or were guided...) to move their gorgeous seminary building and vineyard over the road and up the hill. So they sawed the huge building into 6 pieces and moved them with steam engines and horses. They must have really preferred this view to go to all that effort:
On to Brookfields where we were greeted by a surprised fellow in Wellington boots, clearly not expecting company. Despite not being officially open for tastings or sales he took time out from pruning to guide us through some of their wine, which he evidently enjoyed extensively himself resulting in a fabulous red, bulbous, hardened drinker's nose.

A most toothsome lunch in beautiful surroundings at Sileni Estates, and enjoyed the sight of sheep grazing among the vines. How very New Zealand. After lunch we drove up to the top of Te Mata Peak and drank in the views of Napier, Hastings, Havelock and Hawkes Bay. More wine to be drank though, so on to Te Mata Estate, who provided a 2004 Woodthorpe Hawkes Bay Chardonnay for the Queen's 80th Birthday feast. We bought the 2005 vintage, which the Cellar Door manager assured us was far superior. Well she would, wouldn't she? After a final visit to the Craggy Range winery, not suprisingly, the rest of the day passed with very little more activity.

Moving on, after a lunch stop in Palmerston North (in honour of Toots) we found ourselves in Wellington: wet, windy, cosmopolitan and friendly. The extensive and slightly overwhelming Te Papa Museum had a special Lord of the rings exhibition showing, so I had to get my geek on. Lots of highlights, but mostly it reignited my crush on Viggo Mortensen. Consider the following facts:
1. The swordmaster for the films considered Viggo one of the finest swordsmen he had ever trained.
2. He lived in and personally cleaned, fixed and darned his Aragorn costume for authenticity.
3. When he had a front tooth kicked out during a fight scene he asked for it just to be superglued back in so that they could carry on filming without losing momentum.
4. He forged such a bond with "Aragorn's" horse he bought it it after filming finished.
5. He is fluent in English, Danish, Spanish and can now speak Elvish
6. When he stubs his toe angels weep*
*possibly not true

On a side geeky note, those interested in intelligent CGI software should look into "Massive" that Peter Jackson had created (not personally) to provide realistic mass fight scenes. Fascinating stuff.

Lovely Jacqui had sorted us out with a booking at Logan Brown, Wellington's top restaurant co-owned by one of her mates. Spectacular food, wine (courtesy of Jac and Jesper - thanks again!), interior and service. This served as a fitting last night in and farewell to the North Island. The South Island has a lot to live up to!