Wanaka to Bay of Islands: Leaving New Zealand On A High

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Prior to booking a 15,000 ft jump out of a plane the closest I had got to thrill seeking during my 24 years was sliding down the staircase at home in a cardboard box aged 10. So, naturally, skydiving seemed the next sensible step.

In order for one to plummet towards the ground before a parachute is, finally - hopefully - unleashed, the weather conditions need to be pretty spot on. There must be little to no wind and also no rain nor chance of rain (as when you’re falling at speed the raindrops actually hurt). My skydive was booked up for 11am and I woke up that morning feeling excited and nervous. There had been snow overnight on the tops of the mountains and it looked stunning. God wasn’t on my side though (or maybe he was, depending on how you look at it) and as there was a fair bit of cloud and wind the jump was cancelled. I rescheduled for later that day but again it was cancelled. There would be another opportunity later in our trip so we recovered the hefty deposit and began the 600km journey to the Abel Tasman National Park, right at the top of the South Island.

We made it about half way to a little place called Hokitika and spent the night there in a decent room with a TV. Not much to report other than the discovery that the featured series of Lost is dire and seems more like a low budget ITV series, a member of the housekeeping staff walking in on a naked Dave (his response to this women barging into our room well before check-out time without even knocking was, wait for it, “sorry”), and me happening upon a particularly nice muffin. Having recovered from such wild incidents, we continued North and visited the ‘pancake rocks’, which are rocks that look like pancakes. Not, like I had hoped, pancakes the size of rocks. The maple syrup stashed back into the glove compartment we pootled on.

We spent our one full day in the Abel Tasman NP hiking a 12km stretch of reputedly one of the best walks in the country. It is possible to do the full walk but that takes something like 2-3 days and requires effort. And camping. Having glimpsed some of the individuals that did decide on the full walk we were glad we took the easy way out - carrying bulky packs and breathing heavily there was no way they were having a good time. Not that they’d admit that if you asked. Not that we did ask. Anyhow, the walk was lovely and followed the coast through rainforest and woodland. 12km later we found ourselves in a sandy cove from where the water taxi picked us up and took us back to our petrol-guzzling Mazda. That evening we treated ourselves to a meal at a restaurant called “Hot Mama’s” (to Dave’s disappointment, a regular restaurant) as we’d been together 3 years. Dave even let me have a glass of wine!

The following day we drove to a place called Nelson, near where we would catch the ferry, and spent a night in a good hostel called Tasman Bay Backpackers. It was good because it offered free chocolate cake at 8pm every evening. It was sunny in Nelson and we spent the day mosie-ing round the weekend market eating crepes, watching a local football match and for my part at least, looking forward to chocolate cake. We went to the kitchen at 8.05pm on the night we were there but we couldn’t see the cake. When we enquired at reception the guy in charge explained slowly, carefully and apologetically ‘you really must come down at 8pm. I’m sorry but there is none left now. I’m very sorry’ as if he was imparting news of the death of a beloved pet. So I suppose it wasn’t that good. They really should have made a bigger cake. Or at least have had people on hand to help you deal with the loss.

We caught the ferry the next day and, unlike our last experience of the Cook Straits, it was calm. Dave is keen I point out that the only thing that made us feel nauseous on this occasion was the film ‘The City of Angels’ that we watched. It was made bearable (along with exchanging cynical glances and raised eyebrows with Dave) by the Easter Bunny that came round with mini chocolate eggs, as it was Easter Sunday. The bunny didn’t hang around for the film though, he had better things to do. Ah, what I wouldn’t have given for a bunny costume and chocolate to pass the time.

Back on the North Island Dave drove us the 150km through Wellington and up to Palmerston North, New Zealand’s answer to Kingswood in Bristol. For those fortunate enough to have avoided Kingswood thus far, imagine a Wetherspoons, New Look and a ‘club’ on which the one featured in ‘The Office’ was based, frequented and surrounded by pock-faced, gold-adorned chavs driving around with ghastly music blaring out of their ghastly cars. And you have Kingswood. It even has a place called ‘Bar Celona’ which, whilst indeed a bar, isn’t even Spanish themed. I mean come on. Anyhow, I didn’t come half way round the world to talk about dumps in England. Especially when there are one or two here I could be yapping about.

First though, I had unfinished business with 15,000 feet of air. Taupo, in the North Island, is considered a great place to skydive. Not one to argue, I again booked a jump. The following day Dave and I drove to Taupo under an ever-increasing blue sky and I began to hope (and fear) that this one might actually go ahead. We arrived nearly an hour early but thought we’d drop into to their office to check it was looking good for a go ahead. The second I was through the door they had me signing disclaimers (that I dared not read) and picking a ‘package’. I went for the ‘bankruptcy’ option, where for the price of a small house you receive videos and photos with which to bore family and friends for many years to come. No sooner as I had signed away over £200 of my riches I heard someone say ‘there’s a plane going up in 3 minutes, you’ll be on that one’. So it was that me and a Canadian couple, Ben and Heather, got into our jump suits, were harnessed up by an all too chatty bloke from Brighton who in my opinion really should have been concentrating harder on doing up the straps properly, met our respective “jump masters” who were to be in charge of not letting us die and boarded the pygmy plane.

It was all fun and games on the way up. Andy, to whom I was strapped, joked about whether I’d seen the instruction video (which, of course, I hadn’t) and the other skydive instructors made their condolences that I was unfortunate enough to be strapped to Andy of all people. Oh, how we laughed. After about 10 minutes of steady climbing we got to 15,000 feet, which is really, really high. At about 3 miles, it’s the highest skydive you can do and means that when you exit the plane you freefall for 60 seconds at speeds of over 200 km/hour before the parachute is released. So that’s about 2 miles covered in the first minute and the last mile at a more leisurely pace. Sat on the edge of the plane with my feet dangling out my heart skipped a beat and as we leaned and fell into nothingness I think my heart stopped altogether. It was amazing though and the 60 seconds flashed by in an instant. The parachuting was serene after the noise of the freefall and we spent about 5 minutes slowly drifting towards the landing site taking in the views of the lake. I’ll be sure to show anyone who will watch the video when we get home. With the exception of my Mum, as I must confess to a four-letter expletive escaping my lips shortly after the parachute was opened.

The following day Dave and I hiked the Tongariro Alpine Crossing. It’s a 20km one-day trek up and over a plateau bridged between two mountains. It was hard going and we were pleased to reach the 2291m summit of Mt Ngauruhoe at around midday, having started out at 8am. The walk was truly amazing; we sauntered in sunshine at the start, battled high winds at the top and sun again on the long way back down while crossing constantly shifting landscapes of lakes and craters and mountaintops. We finished at around 2.30pm and were - sorry but there’s no other word for it - knackered.

The following morning, after a really good sleep, we made our way to Rotorua. There was loads of stuff we wanted to do there like white water rafting and zorbing (rolling down a hill in a giant hamster ball) but it was all too expensive. So instead we did nothing. For our 3 nights there all I can remember is trying to go for a walk in the botanical gardens but getting chased out by flies, spending ages trying to track down a Subway for lunch and buying a Domino’s pizza for dinner one night. It was a great pizza.

Our next stop was the Waitomo Caves, 150km west of Rotorua, where we arranged to go ‘black water rafting’ (not nearly as scary as it sounds). There were about 10 of us in the group, all of whom apart from Dave and I were from the ‘Kiwi Experience’ coaches (18-30s holiday types). Most of them were hungover and one bloke in particular looked like he been hauled from an alcohol-induced coma only minutes before. This bloke, along with another equally listless colleague, turned out to be our guide. We got changed into wetsuits, shorts and booties and before long were picking out ‘tubes’ (rubber rings) and practising for a jump backwards down a waterfall. We climbed down into the caves and drifted along in our tubes, staring up at millions of glow-worms dangling above us. The jump down the waterfall was fine, if a little traumatic for someone that is scared of water, turned out it was the paddling that was impossible. Even using all of the strength in my arms I am incapable of pushing myself along. At one point I actually got left behind and one of the guides had to come back and effectively kick me along. Still we made it, eventually, and it was good to get out of the freezing cold wetsuits and into a hot shower followed by tomato soup and bagels.

After we’d dried out we made a decision to bypass Auckland (having been there already with my parents) and travel the 450km to the Bay of Islands, in the very North of the island. We were really glad we did. Even though the weather was miserable, to the point where we couldn’t get on any boat trips to see the islands for which the bay is named, we stayed in a lovely hostel and made full use of the kitchen, lounge area and book exchange. Fully rested and relaxed we made our way back to Auckland through the drizzle a few days later to catch a flight back to the 30 degree heat of Australia. It couldn’t come a moment too soon!


Dave: I’ve just read this blog, and though I think it’s good enough, there are quite a few things that happened that Helen neglected to mention. Not that you probably care, but I’ve listed them below:

1) We went to Franz Joseph glacier. It was pretty much the same as Fox glacier that we’d visited earlier in the trip with Helen’s parents.
2) Rotorua smelled of rotten eggs pretty much the whole time we were there. They claim it’s to do with all the volcanic activity, but I think it’s due to the resident’s diet.
3) The river crossing we did was up one of the volcanoes that was used as ‘Mount Doom’ in the Lord Of The Rings films. I guess Frodo would be pretty annoyed to find out that there’s a fairly easy path up to the top that only takes a couple of hours. Clearly Gollum was having a bit of a laugh with him.
4) We stayed in a hostel that was totally infested with flies.
5) At the same hostel a donkey chased me. I say chased, he really just kept following me, but it was scary none the less!
6) We went to some waterfalls, a big stone arch and a cave. Nothing really happened at these so I guess that’s why Helen didn’t mention them. Not sure why I am….
7) We went to see the oldest stone building in New Zealand! Which wasn’t all that exciting…
8) We visited somewhere that makes fudge. Which I am surprised Helen didn’t include!

That’s all I can think of for now….

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Comments

[wisa]

It took me a little while to figure out that the naked david story and the happening upon a particularly nice muffin story weren't connected....obviously too many inuendos in my mind! some of the scenery looks lovely, and so does the food! good fajitas it's got to be said :) I gave blood today :s not the greatest experience, but free biscuits so cant complain! :D do you realise it's someones birthday in a mere 23 days!? hehe speak soon! lots of love xxxxxxxx