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Published: April 6th 2010
We continued along Highway 35 which follows the Pacific coast. This is possibly the most remote area of New Zealand that we have hitherto driven through. Wellington was a delightful introduction to the North Island, a pretty city with an excellent museum and easy to like. From there on to Napier and up to Gisborne which is supposed to be the sunniest town in New Zealand. It certainly has an excellent second hand bookshop! All easy and pretty straightforward.
And then Highway 35, remote, isolating and quite different to any area we had come across to date. For the first time we found ourselves in real Maori country and signs of their culture and style mixed with poverty, desolation and shattering splendour threatened to overwhelm. Ridges of mountains on our left, narrow beaches unfriendly with grey and black shadowed driftwood on our right. Above us clouds soft grey curled across pale blue skies and around the ribs of the mountains ahead. In the distance across the sea we can just glimpse through the mist Whakaari - an active volcanic island.
We drove by horses tethered on the side of the road near lonely houses or small villages. We didn’t
drive through those villages unobserved. This is a rural land where all strangers are carefully noted. This is a place that it would take time to get to know and sadly time is not on our side. It was clear very soon after our arrival on the North Island that we had miscalculated how much time we would need there - we had definitely not allowed enough.
We can see the carved fronts of marae - meeting houses - but we cannot get near enough to see them prperly nor would we be welcomed if we had - these are working, living buildings not tourist attractions.
We drive through a lovely little place called Tikitiki and I remember reading that the church there is decorated within as a Marae and that we would be welcome in there. So we visit. This church is built in memory of the Maori soldiers of WW1 and is decorated within in the Marae style. But it is still a church. Most touching for me is the stain glass window at the front which has Christ upon the cross and at his feet Maori soldiers. If you get the chance ever go
there - it is beautiful.
It is getting dark and we are struggling to find a campsite - this isn’t the easy South that designs itself around the needs of the tourist - here on Highway 35 you have to fit in with life that exists outside of your travels. I start to really appreciate New Zealand. Round the darkening mountain edge the most magnificent of sunsets plays out its drama. Salmon grey clouds stretch across the midrange of the sky, gold streaming above them and glorious deep pink light falls over the edge of the earth below. The sea is flat. We stop, unable to resist watching the day ending so magnificently, despite our rising anxiety about driving these steep narrow roads in the dark.
Eventually we come across a camp site. A young lad tells us the price. It is expensive, but we are tired, so we agree to it.
“Most people jus get in their vans and drive away when I tell them the price,” he grins. I am about to hand over the money and I pause and look at Tim.
Tim asks if we can just look at the site before
we agree.
“Sure,” he says and walks ahead trailing beer fumes and the scent of a long unwashed body behind him. Tim looks as me. Our eyes agree - this isn’t a good place. We change our minds and tell him that we are going to move on. He watches us go chewing the nails on one hand and scratching his groin with the other hand.
Close to 9.00pm we drive into a little place called Te Kaha and Tim spots a campground. It is closed but he goes into it to see if he can find anyone. I volunteer to guard the van and incidentally to play with the largest cat I have ever seen in my life. Tim emerges from the dark. We have a site.
“I have just spoken to two Amazonian Maori women,” he said “They totally dwarfed me. We can stay.”
So great was our relief that while we cooked we sang loudly - why not? We were the only people in the campground that night! Or so we thought... Next morning as I showered I heard the trills of an elderly lady echoing my rendition of “Don’t you wish your
girlfriend was hot like me?” She was happy and I just tiptoed very quietly out of the shower block.
Tim climbs quietly into the van and we drive away. After a few miles he mentions that he had heard an old man singing a couple of the songs we had been bellowing forth the night before. Hmmm - maybe we had had company after all.
Whew! Rotorua - interesting smells emerge from the deep inner earth. We had turned inland from the Pacific Highway in order to explore a little of the geysers and steam of Rotorura to Lake Taupo. This is a wonderful part of the world. Midst the geysers there continues a stronger sense of the Maori. I learn there that within their culture all life has movement and the swirls in their carvings represent that movement. I also learn that the two unborn children represented wthin the carving of a woman represent twins - the Maori guide explains without a glimmer of a smile to the nodding group of earnest tourists until he catches my eye and a twinkle emerges.
When we arrive at Lake Taupo it is freezing cold but Tim still insists
ongoing for a swim. He enters the water without a falter in his stride while I sit huddled in my fleece on a bench. Diving in he swims about a 100m out and then back to shore and swaggers up to me.
“Not too bad at all,” he smirks “Getting used to the cold of the water here.”
I snigger. And snicker. And snigger. And guffaw.
“What?” he asks.
“This section is the warm beach. Hot waters emerge into the Lake here,” I finally answer when the sniggers have subsided.
“Damn!”
Driving through that area leaves me with a deep sense of satisfaction. I love the sight of the hot steam from deep within the earth rising primeval above the trees. We walk through Orakei Korako - where the emerald terrace and steam fall and rise while mud bubbles and bursts. Slightly off the beaten track and with few people it is a privilege to visit that we enjoy whole heartedly.
We move on to Coromandel Peninsular which is lovely but sadly I have hurt my back and am unable to enjoy it. We end up going to a physio who tries to
Huka Falls
Near the start of the Waikato River's long journey to Auckland where we met up with it again.help but although there is some improvement, movement is hard and now all I want is to get out of the van and sleep in a proper bed. We cut the Coromandel visit short and head up Auckland taking it carefully as I cannot sit for very long.
Auckland and its northern environs is lovely. New Zealand has a population of about 4 million I believe of which 1 million live on the South Island and1 million in the Auckland area. I totally understand why they live there - it is liveable! Fresh air, sea, coast lines and city! What more could you want?
While there I met up with a friend from school I had not seen for just over 20 years. As soon as we started talking it was as if only a few minutes had passed since we had last seen each other. Easy laughter and friendly teasing mixed with several glasses of wine - a delightful way to spend a sunny day! Annoyingly she is still as beautiful as ever she was! Sigh.
With joy we hand over the Jucy van - we have had enough of it and now we say goodbye
- not even a lingering one at that.
One of the most enjoyable moments in Auckland was meeting the “Ten Pound Pom”. She and her husband had come to NZ from England in the 1960’s when you could emigrate there for £10. She had a real love for the land and with 4 of her 6 children having married Maori’s she not only knew a great deal about their culture and history but could speak the language of that region. She taught us that Maori words need to be broken into syllables with each one ending in a vowel. She explained that if you are given a gift by a Maori you must accept it or it is acknowledgement of war and that furthermore when visiting them you must bring a gift with you.
She laughed when I told her why I had fallen in love with the Pukeko bird.
“They are really very pretty,” I said “But no brains and therefore they don’t present an intellectual challenge.”
With a sense of shock we realise our visit is over. Our luggage has been checked in and we are in a queue to board the plane. What
New Zealanders seem to have
a deep love of corrugated iron. Isn't this building - made of the stuff - awesome? Love it! happened to 6 weeks of our lives? What is going to happen in the next few weeks? Time has whirled by with the wind that tried to knock us off our feet.
But now we must face a different time - now we are to meet Fiji Time!
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Hugh
non-member comment
I want to go to NZ, like now now.