Walking with bicycles

---

I am very slowly creeping nearer to the bottom of the North Island. I am very, very quickly hurtling to the bottom of my bank account.

Auckland

I was planning to leave Auckland about 2 days after I got there, but a long weekend was coming up and it was a chance to spend time with Sharlene - because it could be years before I see her again. So whilst she and Jodi slaved away at work, I lounged about the city and continued to bludge off them. I walked to Auckland Domain which is a very pleasant park area. When I got there I was planning to walk to the museum, but after the effort of walking a whole kilometre I lay down under a tree for about an hour staring at the blue, blue sky above, trying to work out just how I can get someone to pay me for loafing around like this. I just read Bob Geldof's autobiography, you read books whilst travelling you wouldn't normally read. Anyway Saint Bob says that there is nothing noble about the work ethic and slogging your guts out for a pittance. I have to agree.

After dwelling on the wisdom of Saint Bob and the beauty of the blue sky I dragged myself to Auckland Museum. It looks to me very much like the Reichstag building in Berlin - which is most unfortunate because it was built as a memorial to the 120,000 kiwis who died in the First and Second World War, therefore slightly insensitive architectural planning went into that. As museums go it was quite boring really - a display of wildlife which included polar bears and other creatures not generally found on these shores; a display of Maori ceremonial buildings and artefacts which at least had interesting background information; kiwi fashion design and creations and other artefacts typical of museums the world over - old stuff, owned by rich people long dead, and their families didn't know what to do with the stuff when they died so they donated them to museums for the tax-break. It also seemed odd to me that there were signs everywhere telling you that you could liberally take photos - why? Should I have taken one of the polar bear - not native to NZ and not living? At least it suffered a better fate than those poor creatures you see in zoos, long gone insane due to confinement. I wandered off to Newmarket in search of an ice-cream - is there a museum of ice-cream I wonder. I think there should be. They do make very good ice-cream in NZ.

Jodi and I went out to Ponsonby one evening when Shar was out. We went to Diablos bar which had open-mike night for prospective NZ pop stars. Some of them were really good. Some of them were really not - which is sad because they had put so much effort into it and clearly thought they were good, so you felt obliged to applaud all of them regardless of whether they were good or dire. Obviously this is foolish on the part of the audience because it is not going to encourage the lousy musicians to give up and devote themselves to their day job - but at least I could take heart from the fact that I won't have to listen to them again. It was a fun evening and Ponsonby is a nice little suburb - great cafes and some strange little shops that sell a thousand and one kitchen items you never would have dreamt you needed until you see them gleaming in all their plastic glory on the shop shelf. Luckily for my excess baggage weight, my motto whilst travelling is never to buy anything other than food, drink or essential items which need replacing because I had something nicked again.

I spent an entire cloudy / rainy day during that week wandering from bookshops to cafes and back to bookshops again. I had such a lovely time. I found the most amazing second hand bookshop. It is called Jason books, and smells of polished wood rather than that awful musty smell which usually hovers around in old bookshops. It was also very light and airy and they had loads of lovely, comfy couches. It was simply marvellous. In NZ they don't call items secondhand, they call them pre-loved. That's me - pre-loved. When I wasn't lounging around Jason's reading pre-loved books, I was skulking in Dymmocks reading the first few chapters of Ben Elton's new book. It's just too heavy to carry around, so I just borrow it from time to time.

On the long weekend we went to a music festival in Albert Park which was quite entertaining. When I bored of laying in the shade reading Saint Bob whilst listening to the music, I started people watching. There were a considerable number of very pale youths with dreadlocks and ridiculous wisps of facial hair - it just doesn't work for the very pale, particularly gingers, however it is very funny to see. In competition with the ginger mingers were the equally pale youths with paunchy bellies, Manchester tans and tattoes - see you don't have to have the Beckham physique or money to look like a god, you just have to have a tattoo. It must work on some level because all these gorillas managed to have attractive girlfriends - Joe Jackson would be turning in his grave if he weren't alive.

We went to see Sharlene's sister and her children, who are both beautiful. I wanted to take the baby, Huia, travelling with me - she was just so lovely. Chubby, happy, huge brown eyes, made me get all broody. We went to Mission Bay to a craft market which was really good - although I bought nothing. I don't actually miss shopping - lugging 25kg around every time I move towns isn't much fun and the fear of having to carry even more weight curbs all materialistic instincts. On my last evening Sharlene and I went to Point Chev with a take-away and a bottle of wine. It was a lovely way to spend my last evening - beautiful views, great wine, eating ourselves sick - what more could you want?

I left Auckland on Tuesday having spent two weeks in total during my time in NZ bludging off Sharlene. It was really lovely to see her again after all these years and I am eternally grateful for her hospitality. If ever in the future I do actually have a home and a job, I hope to return the favour.

Hamilton

After Auckland I went to Hamilton - not specifically to see Hamilton because it isn't the most beautiful part of NZ, but it is somewhere you go to change buses. I spent a night there in a very crowded hostel - 8 beds to a room and no windows. You all have no idea how I suffer to entertain you with my burble! The next day I went to the Botanical Gardens. There is a really nice walk along the Waikato river to the gardens. I spent the entire day wandering around with no shoes on. I am trying to lose the gleaming white strap marks from my walking sandals, but flip flops are not great to walk around all day in, so I went barefoot. This had little effect on the strap marks, but did mean a lot of stopping and removing tiny thorns and stones from my feet. Hamilton Botanical Gardens is actually a very nice way to spend a pleasant summer's day if you happen to be in Hamilton. It has lots of picturesque little gardens, beautiful rose gardens and most importantly very lush grass to walk on when you need a rest from thorns and stones.

Raglan

My next stop was Raglan on the West coast. Raglan is very beautiful, and has a great backpackers' hostel. The beach is miles and miles long and has black sand. Regardless of the colour of sand it still clings to you, it just seems more clingy when it is black. Raglan is famous for its surfing, I can't surf and doubt my ability to learn, so I just kayaked, went for long walks and lounged around the hostel drinking wine and chatting to everyone. Kayaking was lovely - although you had to wait for the tide to come in so you didn't get beached, but it was nice pottering about the bay whilst the sun was setting, and the fish kept on jumping out of the water - why do they do that? Wing envy or something? One evening I walked all the way along the beach to see the sunset, it was obscured by clouds but all the other sunset voyeurs were couples, which made me feel quite awkward and left out. Why them and not me? Could it be because I am too picky, never stay in one place for more than a few months or might it be that I keep on having very short-lived liaisons with very unsuitable, old men. I wonder!

The dorm room I was in at Raglan was a nice room with patio doors opening out onto a balcony overlooking the sea which was lovely. It was a mixed dorm which I was a bit dubious about after my experience in Paihia with the young man who had a very vocal wet dream, but here everyone was very friendly and chatty - by day, silent by night. We kept the patio doors open all night and one morning woke to a very large damp patch by the door. We all stood round the doorway assuring each other it must have rained heavily in the night- but that didn't stop the three ladies eyeing the two men slightly suspiciously - and hoping it was just rain on the carpet.

Rotorua

After Raglan I went to Rotorua - also known as Rotovegas, it being NZ's epicentre of all that is touristy and tacky. On the way there the bus passed a large factory advertising itself as "corrugated creations" and I wondered what you could create out of corrugated materials. When we got to Tirau I needed to wonder no more, for I discovered you can create an awful lot of shop signs out of it. How innovative!!

Despite the Rotovegas tag I had high hopes of arriving in a scenic wonderland and certainly didn't expect the commercialised downtown area or the overpowering, ever present, rotten-egg smell of sulphur. The smell I should have expected, it is well-detailed in the guide-book, I just forgot. The hostel I stayed in was quite central, very comfortable - and had a constant supply of hot water courtesy of its proximity to the thermal pools. Everywhere you go in Rotorua there is a little area with a hot foot bath, and a pleasant way to spend an evening is sat around one chatting to complete strangers whilst you share a foot bath. It works in NZ, but I just can't imagine it in London - although trying to imagine it makes me laugh. One of the parks in town, Kuirau Park, has many thermal pools and foot spas. It is quite amazing wandering through the fog from one pool to the other, and you can walk up to the hospital for views over the city - everywhere you look you see steam rising. Of course the attraction is tempered with the fact that it is a city built on top of a clearly still living volcano and if it decided to erupt you would be a goner within seconds.

I visited the Wai o Tapo thermal region - lots of mud baths, thermal pools, amazing colours. There is a geyser there that erupts at 10.15 a.m. every day. As I sat with about 200 other gullible tourists waiting for it to erupt the man next to me and I chatted about the weirdness of the geyser erupting so helpfully at the same time every day. He suspected there was a tap somewhere, however a park ranger person came out with a little bag of Persil, Daz or whatever which he poured into the geyser - and off it went. A bunch of prison workers in the 1920's discovered this when they inadvertently set the geyser off by adding soap powder to it whilst washing their little arrow suits. Interesting, but somehow disappointing. It was a bit like going all the way to Africa to go on safari to see lions in the wild, only to find a tatty circus with a few bedraggled, drugged lions jumping through hoops. If that is what you had wanted you'd just go to Vegas and catch a show with Siegried and what is left of Roy. Ah well, it is a geyser, it does what geysers do even if it did have a little artificial help.

I also went white water rafting. It was a grade V river - Kaituna Cascades - which was quite scary to me. So scary in fact that I almost chickened out, but I am really glad I went. There were eight of us so they split us up into two groups of 4. As there was a family of 4 from Auckland this left me with the 3 German backpackers. I was quite pleased at the prospect of not having to row much as I was in a dinghy with 5 men including the two guides. I deluded myself, the guides guided and the German backpackers stopped rowing every two seconds. Despite the guides shouting at them to paddle, they just weren't having any of it. But we had great fun - apart from the bit where they make you lean over the front of the boat and then paddle you all head first into the bottom of the waterfall (obviously after you have been over it). I hated that - just water hitting you in the face for minutes on end. When we went over the 7 metre waterfall it was really scary - I know that isn't that high, but it was to me. We surfed under the water for what seemed like ages, and I wasn't too sure of what way was up. As we surfaced I felt the dinghy tipping over to the right. I held on really tightly, terrified we were going over, through the waterfall around us I could see Max falling out. Matt the guide very nobly leaned over and dragged him back in. When we viewed the pictures at the end Max had actually been all the way out of the boat with just one leg still in - but he was still hanging on so he might have taken us all with him. We were soaked anyway, I just didn't fancy being upside down under the boat.

The trip was over far too soon - and although it was fun far too much of it was just the guides paddling us into the waterfall to get pictures of me spluttering and gooning like an idiot. How attractive. In the bus on the way back one of the young germans was telling Matt how he was a drug dealer back home and they were discussing the finer points of various kind of drugs. I was really taken aback, I know the youth of today have a very liberal attitude towards the drug culture (can I actually get any more middle-aged and middle England??) but to hear someone yell out above the noise of the engine "at home I am a drug dealer" and nobody but me bats an eyelid was so shocking. When I stopped being shocked I realised that what they were actually talking about was trucks, it was just his accent that made the word sound like drugs. Flooded with relief I surreptitiously ended my call to the local police snitch line.

Napier

Next on my tour was Napier. I was meant to go to Nuhaka much further up the Hawkes Bay coast to do some more farm work - but my first experience was somewhat mixed and I am not in a hurry to sign up for 10 hours a day free labour in the middle of nowhere again. I do actually feel very guilty because they seemed a lovely couple, however having met a few people in Napier I know from Australia has helped assuage the guilt. Napier is the Art Deco capital of NZ. The town was destroyed by an earthquake in 1931 and most building were reduced to rubble, so it was rebuilt in the architectural trend of the day. Now a lot of the original buildings have been updated to incorporate shopfronts, i.e. ruined, therefore a lot of the style is lost or restricted to the upper storey. The hostel I am staying in is not Art Deco style, but it is a really nice hostel. Even better I have bumped into two people I met in Australia as well as Ursula just whizzing through on her way back to Auckland so we agreed to go on a wine tour. It never fails to amaze me how my funds always stretch to wine however many cultural events I miss out on due to 'being a backpacker and not being able to afford it'.

After faffing around Napier for a few days doing very little - sitting in cafés, wandering along the beach, I finally got round to visiting the gannet colony. Gannets are quite amazing birds, they circle high above the sea until they spot a likely looking fish for dinner, then they dive like an arrow, plunge into the water and catch the fish. Their skulls are particularly thick to protect them from the impact, but they are prone to cataracts - which renders them unable to spot the fish and they die of hunger. The colony at Cape Kidnappers near Clifton is the only inland colony in New Zealand - and possibly in the world, so I had to go. Why I had to go I don’t know, but everyone said to, and I was faffing around waiting for drinking partners to arrive.

Getting from Napier to Clifton is a bit of a problem. There is no public transport, and unlike most tourist traps, there is no transport laid on just for backpackers. I didn’t want to sit on the back of a tractor or cram into a mini bus with a load of OAPs, because it is meant to be a lovely 10km walk to the colony along the beach. A company advertising cycling to the colony was advertised in the hostel so I telephoned them. Kim said she would come and pick me up from the hostel and drive me to and from Clifton, from where it was a very easy, pleasant cycle ride along hard, flat sand.

Timing of a trip to the colony is crucial. You have to go either side of low tide, or you can’t get along the beach. I should have gone on Tuesday and could have spent the entire day wandering along the beach and back, but being me, and not reading the small print, I left it until the starting time was 2.30 p.m - so it had to be that day because otherwise my next free day would be a 4.30 p.m. start on Saturday. I sat on the beach watching the surf pounding the shore and a rat scurrying around in the sand - which somehow seemed odd, it just never occurred to me beaches attracted rats - but of course ships are rumoured to be full of them, so of course they do.

At 2 p.m. Kim advised that low tide didn’t seem to be happening. There was a swell in the sea, and the tide wasn’t actually going out as far as it should, in fact it just wasn't really going out at all which may make cycling awkward if we set off too early, so we should wait until about 3. We waited until 3 and set off - there was me and a family of 6. Kim had warned us that in one place there had been a landslip and it would mean a short scramble over the rocks and in another section there may be a bit of soft sand and gravel but we would be OK as long as we didn’t turn the front wheel in the soft sand and we might need to stand and pedal. I don’t really know what Kim’s definition of a ‘short scramble’ or a ‘small section’ is, but for about 3 kms of the 10km we scrambled over rocks - carrying the bikes, and were unable to cycle due to soft sand for about another 4 km so it was much more of a walk with a bicycle. The final 3 km were the promised hard, flat sand so finally I got to cycle along the beach and admire the views.

It took me as long to get to the colony as if I had walked, only with far less time to admire the view because I was too busy carrying the bike and swearing my little head off. If it hadn’t been for tide times I would have gone back and waited for another day. It was a really hot day and the views were beautiful, but I hated that bike. However I got to Black Reef in time to make the walk up to the colony at the Cape. The views were amazing and the gannets, despite the disgusting stench, were funny to see. They live in huge colonies and every few seconds one of them starts a mating dance which was quite entertaining. The newly hatched chicks look almost like fluffy lambs with beaks. The older chicks demand food from the mothers and stick their long, sharp beaks so far down the mother's throat you can't believe they don't pierce them - or at least take their tonsils out.

On the way back the tide wasn’t much better, in fact it seemed even higher. I recalled Kim’s advice to make sure we didn’t get sand or sea water in the gears and didn’t give a toss - I was shattered, the bike was heavy, and letting us go out in a swell like that was madness, so rather than carry it, I plunged through the surf, dragging the bike along. The water came up to the saddle at some points - and this was still only an hour after low tide. When I got back the other 6 cyclists had already returned. They only got as far as Black Reef and we all agreed that at many points we had been tempted to ditch the bikes. I bludged a lift back into Napier from them as I couldn't be bothered to wait 30 minutes whilst Kim cleaned the bikes - all of which had an awful lot of sand and sea in the gears.

I got back to the hostel only to find a party waiting for me - during the week I had managed to invite half the town to a barbecue at our hostel and had assumed I would be back from my cycle by 5 p.m. at the latest. Here I was at 7, knackered, wet and filthy. Hostess with the mostest … sand. Once I cleaned up and Abby and I prepared dinner it was a great evening. We took up half of the outside area in the hostel, and I am not too sure they are overkeen on non-paying guests hanging around, but we had a lovely evening and it was great to catch up with Ursula and Andrea again as well as our new found friends who I had been chatting to earlier in the week and invited along.

Friday we had planned to go on the wine tour - but hadn’t booked it. Andrea wanted a proper guided tour. Ursula, Abby and I wanted to cycle round the vineyards - it just sounded great fun, and if you get too tired (and emotional) they come and pick you up in a van. What could go wrong - other than not booking until the morning of the trip and finding out that they are full. We had a plan B and a plan C - but plan C involved Abby driving which didn’t seem fair, so we hired bikes from the marina and cycled only to the local vineyards. We could only have the bikes for 4 hours, because it was nearly 12 and they closed at 4.30, so off we went, optimistic of our ability to tour the local vineyards, have lunch, drink wine, cycle steadily and be back on time.

Our first stop was the Filter Room, Ale & Cider House. They were really friendly, helpful and perfectly equipped for cider / ale tasters of all denominations - locals, tourists even, heaven forbid, backpackers. For $6 we selected 6 ciders and/or ales to taste. We selected 6 each - being English. The barman pointed out that the tasting was a full glass, so we agreed to 6 between three of us, taking time and traffic into account. Our next stop, Brookfields Vineyard, could not have been more different. Being backpackers and cyclists to boot we were treated like second hand citizens. $5 each, denied tasting of most of the tasting list on the grounds that 'I haven't got an open bottle', we should have just walked out, but the two wines that we were allowed to taste were very good - a whole mouthful each - I am surprised he didn't make us swig from the bottle! He did, however, show us a short cut to the chocolate factory which missed out the busy main road. We cycled along the back roads admiring the vineyards and the orchards, singing excerpts from The Sound of Music - out of tune and not knowing all the words, but it seemed to go with cycling along country lanes in the sun. What a shame we couldn't rustle up some dresses made out of curtains. The chocolate factory was less factory and more cafe, but that didn't stop us all buying a few very expensive chocolates after lunch to keep us going to the next vineyard.

Time was running away with us - it was gone 3 and we had an hour left. We raced to the next vineyard which was in a beautiful setting. A wedding was taking place in one half of the grounds, we helpfully stood around in the background and critically assessed the bridal party - far too much lipstick! The wines were not as good as the first vineyard, but at least we were treated better, and the Eiswine was so good that Sarah and I actually bought some. Backpackers making purchases - who would have thought. We were about 8km from Napier. It was 4 p.m. We had 30 minutes to find the route, get there and return the bikes - and even that was 30 minutes late. So being tourists we stopped and posed for photos, then wobbled home. Despite our moderation in wine intake it was an incredibly hot day. We finally staggered back just before 5 - having risked life and limb in the rush hour traffic. I wish I could have stopped laughing long enough to have got a picture of Abby cycling across the roundabout into the traffic, holding out her hand imperiously like a policewoman, to halt the oncoming traffic so the three of them could cycle round the roundabout. I had the sense to be in the right lane so was far less of a risk to myself and other traffic. Actually I was so far behind them I could see what they were trying to do so had time to move over lanes.

That night we had another barbecue - but a far more sober affair, we were too tired to party and too hot and bothered to drink - and we'd only managed two vineyards. Obviously I will have to make up for it in the South Island.

Next day I headed off for Wellington and my last few days in the North Island.

---

Photos

vh302
Auckland from Point Chev

vh301
Sharlene and Huia

vh300
Auckland by night

vh303
Waikato River, Hamilton

vh304
Hamilton Botanical Gardens

vh305
Raglan at sunset

vh307
Wai o Tapo champagne pool

vh306
Lady Knox Geyser about to erupt unnaturally

vh308
Lake Rotorua

vh309
Art Deco (somewhat lopsided), Napier

vh310
Gannet colony - braving the critics and wearing fur

vh311
Cape Kidnappers, Hawkes Bay

vh312
Barbecue round at my hostel

vh314
Cider Tasting in Hawkes Bay

vh313
Ursula can't wait to get at the cider

vh315
Wine tasting by bicycle

vh316
Plane trees, Mission Vineyard, Hawkes Bay

Comments

[Jessica]

Beer
what's the Beer like in Oz and New Zealand? is it better than American?