The Road to Whangamata

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Well, it sure has been an eventful couple of weeks..

I managed to finally free myself from the grips of Auckland and get down to the Coromandel a couple of weeks back, the idea was to take a break and catch up with some well-earned rest and relaxation, it seems however that those in charge had other plans.

I ambled down to the Coromandel on Saturday morning, taking breakfast in Thames, it was a wonderful sunny day. I stopped for breakfast and then drove over the mountains and did a bit of giant kauri spotting on the way to the east coast, where I headed for Cathedral Cove. Cathedral Cove, you may have seen before, its appeared on a dozen arty greetings cards, which you can probably purchase at WHSmith. I’ve taken care to include photos of the real thing here, so those with advanced IT knowledge (well, more advanced than mine), will be able to electronically pilfer them and make their own cards.

I bumped into the Kiwi Bus (also known as the sh*gging bus for obvious reasons) in the car park which as usual was packed with British ‘youths’ with hangovers, oh the shame of it!. I felt very relaxed as a slurped the last of my pineapple smoothie looking out to sea.

I had been down here a couple of years previous, but it always takes a while to put things together, so I found myself constantly driving round corners (there are very few straight roads in this part of the world), thinking ‘ive been here before’, went up to Cooks Beach which is where Aucklanders (we’ll call them JAFA’s from here on in) hang out at the holidays and create havoc for the local constabulary.

I took the short ferry across to Whitianga (pro. fitty ang-a), which was having a scallop festival, of which the main focus is having a good old slurp of vino, so there were a few casualties wandering the streets. On the way back to the ferry, one old red faced fella was being propped up by his mates, and this was only 2.30 I the afternoon! I had however avoided having a drink which I was glad of…

So, I was following the road to Whangamata (pro. fanga-ma’tar) at about 5pm, where I was due to stay for the evening. The road is quite mountainous, and it had been raining, and I hardly need to say anything else, but I will.

About 20km from my destination, I took a corner a bit too keenly, and the steering wheel went light, and I thought “this is not going to be too good” the car spun and rolled over a couple of times into a ditch at the side of the road. I was very lucky, as the car came to rest on the passenger side, against a bank of thick shrubs and bushes which had arrested the role and prevented the car from rolling any further down the hillside.

When I realised what had happened I was on my side, but still strapped in, luckily the car had retained cabin space the engine was still running!, I climbed out of the drivers window and tried to wave to passing motorists, it was difficult because the car was a way below the level of the road, a couple of cars passed, but finally one bloke stopped, and then another, by this time I had managed to climb out of the car and was on my feet.

I was greeted by Tom, an ex-pat who as soon as learning I was alright, began to gave me a very fatherly ticking-off, being about the same age as my dad, I felt just like the son who’d scratched his dads new Genesis LP, but he was only doing it out of concern. The other bloke who stopped, kept asking me if I’d been drinking, which after the third time, I questioned whether he was working for the cops! (I think he’d been drinking by the way, so it was probably misplaced guilt).

I was remarkably unscathed, I got my belongings together and Tom drove me into town. We called the police (who were off duty), and then they called the ambulance to come and check me out. Anyway, to cut a long story short I’m absolutely fine, although the car didn’t fare so well. The police asked me if the car was off the road (which it well and truly was), and left it at that, just asking me to arrange the towing. Tom and his partner very kindly offered to put me up for the night, as understandably I was left a bit shaken, and they didn’t want me staying on my own, I accepted and they gave me dinner and ran me a hot bath which I was very grateful for. Cheers Guys

I went for a walk on the beach, and then got the car towed in the morning, although it was a write off, I paid the guys, took the plates off it (to cancel the registration), and managed to hitch back to Auckland, in only 2 and a half hours.

I managed get a lift with Reg who was teaching his daughter (Rebecca) to drive, and gave me a lift into Thames, and then got picked up by a scalp doctor (he wasn’t a Sioux) (please help me with the correct term medics ) from Thames to Papatoetoe (pronounced papatoe-ee or papa-two-toes) a down at the heel, Once-were-Warriors-esque southern suburb of Auckland. From here, i got the train into town, which on a Sunday in New Zealand is quite an achievement.

Even though I had explained to my second lift about my ‘close call’ the day before, he was still content to transport me at a greater than normal speed (which was mostly spent on the wrong side of the road), and proceeded to re-iterate at frequent intervals “This subi goes well aye mate?”, indeed it did, and as the saying goes, if your boots leak, don’t walk through puddles.

Both of the guys who had picked me up had been hitchhikers in past, Reg had hitch-hiked through South Africa, in the 80’s which must have been a bit hairy, and made my attempts seem a bit low risk. Both blokes were absolutely genuine, and having picked up hitchhikers myself over the years, I like to think it was a bit of gratitude being returned to me.

So.., the last week at work went by in a bit of a flash, seeing your life flash before you (I promise my emails will become less over-dramatic given a few months) will tend to make everything else seem a little bit trivial, however not content with the previous weekends adventures. It seemed that there was to be more where that came from.

So some time on Saturday afternoon, whilst clinging for dear life to the top of Mount Ngauruhoe, I began to understand that the mountain was successfully living up to its reputation, also being used as Mt Doom in one of that Jackson’ blokes’ films. I was with a party of 15, we had all had full packs on climbing a slope which was at about 40 degrees (inclination), which after having only 4hrs sleep the night before, even I was not best prepared for.

I was third in the party, with Mike the guide leading, and Travis, an American bloke second. It had been getting more windy all the way up, and about 20m from the top, I took a break for about 5 minutes to catch my breath. I was looking ahead and it was seeming to take the two guys in front an eternity time to reach the summit, I kept going and then suddenly realised why. The wind suddenly got up to tremendous strength, as strong as you can imagine(I realise this sounds a bit OTT), but i was having trouble clinging to the mountain lying down, never mind standing up which just about impossible. The snow underfoot, had also turned to solid ice, and we hadn’t got our crampons on, so for about half an hour there, I was definitely about 300% out of my comfort zone, along with about 15 others!.

So I was on top of a volcano, miles from anyway, beyond the reach of helicopters, and I thought ‘This is the second Saturday in a row’ Some times, you should have definitely stay in the pub.

We eventually retreated, after loosing in an almost constant flurry, gloves, helmets, crampons, cb radios, false teeth and most of the upper layer of my facial skin to the wind, which was gusting up to 100kmh, carrying particles of ice which had roughly the same effect as having your head shoved into a shot blasting cabinet.Unfortunately, one of the girls we were climbing with got her hand spiked by another team members crampon when the wind blew her backwards, she went into a little bit of shock, but we managed to get her back down the mountain ok.

From such a testing afternoon, we had a very light hearted end to the day, sliding on our backsides (posteriors are very underrated) back down the mountain, and hurried back to the Mangatepopo hut where we made dinner, and everyone was trying to out-do each other with tales of ‘just how much’ they had been crapping themselves. Its safe to say, that I lost a couple of pounds last weekend.

So, it has been back to normal this week, thank goodness, and ive got some serious plans laid out for the weekend which at the moment consists of boiled eggs and soldiers on Saturday morning. But then again, you know what they say about most accidents happening in the home.

I’d promise to take it a bit easier, but the emails wouldn’t be as interesting.

Hope everyone is ok, looking forward to seeing a few of you in the new year. Catch up soon

Steve

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Comments

[Al]

!!!!
Blimey, crazy adventures! I'm pleased you're OK!

[Charlotte]

Heck!
Well it makes speeding around NEDDC carpark look tame! Enjoyed reading about your exploits but please go a bit slower!

[ben]

strewth!
Bet the volvo would have made that bend. Bloody Jap crap...

[Craig]

Christ mate. At least you wern't in the Uno!!! You would have come a cropper!!