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Published: July 26th 2009
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(N) Travelling southwards from Auckland through the middle of the north island is to pass through “King Country” - nothing to do with the UK, it was named after the
King Movement, set up by various Maori tribes in the middle of the 19th century, when they elected a king and formed a group to defend themselves against increasing European pressure to sell land for settlement. The heart of their territory was this King Country, and outsiders knew better than to try and buy it from them. So the groups stayed apart, but the breakthrough in relations came in the 1890’s, when the Maori king allowed the construction of the Auckland to Wellington railway. Today, Maori presence is said to be stronger here than anywhere else in NZ.
The king of the King Movement at that time was based in
Te Kuiti, which today is a small rural town, and that is where we headed for the first weekend in April, for an altogether down-to-earth festival: the annual sheep muster, which we (well, Nick) wanted to go to, as a traditional New Zealand event. Started around 5 years ago, it is an annual sheep celebration that has got successively bigger.
Te Kuiti is very proud of the event, and we heard the MC of the show declaring to the crowds that nowhere else in the world could they see such a sheep spectacle.
So, for sheep fans, here are the stats:
1. There are around 48 million sheep in NZ (peaked in 1983 at 70 million!)
2. That’s about 1 person for every 12 sheep
3. Each sheep produces about 5kg of wool per year
4. NZ produces 25%!o(MISSING)f the world’s wool
Plenty of stalls lined Te Kuiti’s main street, selling food & souvenirs, including
tangelo juice which we had never tried before, an extra-tasty orange juice. At 2pm there was the highlight of the proceedings, the
sheep run down the main street. Just before the sheep were let loose, a few quad bikes driven by local celebrities proceeded down the street past the crowds, and everyone was surprised to see the prime minister John Key on one of them.
It wasn’t long before the sheep ran and bounded down the road (it had been sealed off for the occasion), bleating and looking generally nervous. About 600 of them were penned in at the end of
the run, near where we were standing, and began running round and round in circles, before heading to the ice cream van, from which they were soon turned away. 4 of them were selected for shearing demonstrations: they were unceremoniously hauled onto a makeshift pallet platform, two by two, and shearers raced each other to see who would make their sheep naked first. It was a fairly interesting spectacle but seeing just 2 sheep-shearing races was enough, and the poor sheep can’t have enjoyed such a public coat-removal, not least as they all ended up with a few nicks from too hasty movements.
In true comedy style, it turned out that the number of sheep that made it to the end of the course was only about half: when they had all been let loose at the other end of the main street, the other half had managed to break free, down some side streets! One guy asked a steward how many sheep there were in the final penned area. “Not as many as down the other end!” came the reply.
The weather was fine and it was interesting to wander round the small town centre and take
in the atmosphere. But the thought of going inside the town’s community hall to watch the actual sheep shearing competitions take place for the next 3 hours was a bit overwhelming, so we made do with a trip to the pub, as well as the
marae (Maori meeting hall) and the Japanese gardens before going back to the seaside village of
Raglan, 90 minutes away, where we were staying Friday and Saturday nights.
Raglan is a small place on the west coast (pop 2,700) that is well-known in NZ for its laidback nature and love of surfing. (It’s also another place to bear the name of a random British gent, this time Lord Raglan from the Crimean War!). In fact, we were staying just outside Raglan in a place called Manu Bay, famous for its very long and uniform waves (and, for any surfies, the longest left-hand break in the world) but we didn’t know that until later.
On the Sunday, we drove the very long way home, first heading south along more wonderful NZ coastline, past other famous surf beaches such as Whale Bay and wild & isolated Ruapuke Beach, where we had lunch. This was typical
of so many NZ beaches: the first thing you notice is the
length of the beach, stretching down as far as you can see, and also its
width - so much sand!; and not developed at all - everyone brings in and takes away their food and drink. It was so scenic; and a couple of families were fishing.
Our final stop was in hugely significant coastal village of
Kawhia (pron “Kar-fee-ah”, pop 670). It was at this place that one of the original Maori canoes first arrived in the 14th century, from their legendary homeland of Hawaiki, thousands of kilometres away. After its epic journey, the canoe, called
Tainui, was dragged to a small hill and buried; today you can only see the small stones that mark the position of the bow and the stern. The burial place is
tapu (sacred) to the Maori, as is the
marae (meeting house) next to the hill, so we had to ask permission before entering and walking around to the hill; and although it was not a dramatic location, it was still awesome to be where one tribe of Maoris originally settled in NZ.
Also during this weekend, we stopped
off at the
Kiwi House in a village called Otorohanga, a place where you can see the national bird. This is not easy in the wild, as they are very shy, are nocturnal and also are awake for just 4 hours a day! There were 2 kiwi birds in the enclosure, a Great Spotted (2.5kg) and a Western Brown (1.3kg). The small brown one was a male who was very lethargic but the female was running around non-stop like she was madly possessed, always digging with her very long thin beak, looking for food. Because it was dark we could not get a picture, but we got a short video (see top), which shows the really comical way in way she lurches from side to side as she runs. Also in the bird park we saw falcons, kea (forest parrots), and the tui, known for its wide range of melodic songs. Tui is also a classic Kiwi brand of beer.
I also had a work conference this month, held in a vineyard called Ascension. After the worky bits were out of the way, the vineyard gave tastings in the cellar, not only from the bottle but also from the
‘first press’ of the season’s harvest, straight out of the tank. They also were thoughtful enough to include the actual variety of grapes that made each wine, so you could eat the fruit and then try the fermented version.
Nearby the vineyard is a park of kauri trees, perhaps NZ’s most famous tree: the oldest ones were planted many centuries ago and dwarf all their surrounding trees. They were much sought-after in colonial times for building material but are now protected. To stand next to one is to be over-awed, so it would have been rude to by-pass it.
Joe Bennett, author of NZ travel book
A Land of Two Halves writes the following about the 800-year old
McKinney Kauri tree in the park, called Parry Kauri Park (also see photo):
“When Chaucer was born, this was a sturdy young tree. When Shakespeare was born, it was 300 years old. It predates most of the great cathedrals of Europe. Its trunk is sky-rocket straight and sky rocket bulky, limbless for half its height. Ferns sprout from its crevices. Its crown is an asymmetric mess, like an inverted root system. I lean against it, give it a slap.
Bridal Falls
A waterfall we visited on the weekend, 55m high, and reached via a short walk through mossy bush It’s like slapping a building. This is a tree out of Tolkien. It’s a kauri.”
*****
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