Eat my snow

Christchurch, Methven & Mt Hutt, South Island, New Zealand

After taking a truly spectacular drive up to Christchurch from Wanaka, we decided to spend the weekend in the city and head up to Mount Hutt the following week when it was a bit quieter. There are few things more embarrassing than having a four year old child whizzing past you on the slopes, and staying away until a school day would minimise the risk. The tourist info place in Christchurch city centre would only offer overpriced, cramped and shabby hostel rooms, so we found ourselves another snappy motel room with a voucher we had cut out of a newspaper weeks earlier. We booked our flights out of the country and extended the car hire for another few days, then set off around the city to do the usual "New Zealand's World Famous..." spotting. Cara treated herself to a haircut and I treated myself to a slap up lunch at the local kebab shop. If I was going to face the "So, what do you think about my new hair?" question, I wanted something lining my stomach when the time came. The next day was spent driving around Banks Peninsula, east of the city, which is where the locals store their hills. We saw plenty more of the great scenery which kiwis seem to leave lying around all over the place, and almost drove into a lost cow on a hilltop. We offered her a lift home, but she preferred the walk and carried on in the opposite direction, looking for more blind corners to hide behind.

Monday morning we drove up to Methven, which is the nearest town to the Mt Hutt slopes, and organised our lift passes and gear hire for the following morning. Methven seemed to be exclusively populated by skiers and people catering to the needs of skiers, with not much else going on. I can only imagine that in summer, the residents pack the whole town up into a big box and drive it over to the east coast, where it spends the warmer months as a quaint, Edwardian seaside village.

After acquiring ourselves yet another spacious, comfortable, multi-roomed motel cabin for the same price as a trendy hostel broom cupboard, we took a drive down to Ashburton, the nearest town of any size (population : 15,000, large by south island standards), as we wanted to find a supermarket where we could buy a big bag of live green lipped mussels for dinner. We had a big cooking pot in our kitchen and it would have been a shame not to use it. After arriving in town, Cara stuck her head into a few stores to ask the locals where we could buy a big bag of live green lipped mussels. They all just stared at her like she was a loony (of course, she is a loony, but for different reasons). Why on earth would we want a big bag of live green lipped mussels, they asked? Who buys live mussels? Who sells live mussels, for that matter? No, they couldn't help us, and if it was all the same to us, would we mind getting our scruffy backsides out of their town and taking our strange foreign ways with us. Live mussels, indeed. Whoever heard of such nonsense? Two hundred metres further down the road we found the local supermarket, and inside was a big tank brimming with green lipped mussels. I can only assume the locals we encountered ate only straw, and shunned such needless extravagances as supermarkets. We filled a big bag with the tasty molluscs and paid the grand total of two pounds for them. Back at the room l cooked us up a grand dinner of moules mariniere avec frites. Actually, it was mussels and oven chips, but why split hairs? If you ever visit New Zealand, I strongly recommend trying the mussels. Each one is the size of a poodle, and cooked up in a puddle of wine and cream, they taste great. And cheaper than chips, literally.

Bright and breezy the next morning, it was back on with the thermal long johns and off we drove up the mountain to the Mt. Hutt ski slopes. The weather was perfect, with nary a cloud in the sky, and the last thirteen kilometres of the drive took us up a narrow, icy road which clings to the side of the mountain by it's fingertips. It is always an invigorating experience to stare at a sheer, five hundred metre drop as your car loses traction on an icy, hairpin corner.
The two days skiing were fantastic, and if I say so myself, my snowboarding skills are now exceptional. Professional snowboarders would approach me on the lifts and ask me what my secrets are. Of course, being a kung fu snowboard grandmaster, I would just humbly say it was down to plenty of practice and the odd spot of meditation. Unlike the last time I went snowboarding, no bones were broken and I could even get down the mountain without hurting anybody else. I would at this point like to extend a big thank you to the pink-suited skier who so considerately skied across the front of my snowboard one afternoon, whacking me across the thigh with their ski-pole in the process and allowing me to enjoy the curious sensation of skidding fifty metres down the slope on my face. And you were even too modest to look back or acknowledge your generosity in any way. I can only hope that you contract some form of untreatable fungal infection on your genitals, causing you to scratch feverishly in social situations and ostracising you from friends and family. Prick! And just to add insult to injury, as we exited the ski lift for the final time on our last day, Cara turned to me and said "You've done really well. You haven't had any really bad falls this time, have you?". Great, I thought, that was something that could have been said when we had made it down to the bottom. Sure enough, half way down the piste, probably as I was thinking about not falling over, I fell over. A great big, flailing limbs, snow up the nostrils and down the pants kind of fall that makes you look like a ragdoll in a tumble dryer. As I spun through the air for the third time, everything moving in slow motion, I thought to myself at least this will look impressive to anybody watching, but after I finally stopped and managed to extricate my head from the snow and my feet from up my arse and under my left armpit, I looked around and not another soul was in sight. It would seem my luck was taking a turn for the worse. Other than that, a grand time was had by all.

It was finally our last night in New Zealand, and I was going to treat myself to an enormous bag of fish 'n' chips from town. Cara, being the kind of weirdo that can say no to fried food, was having some pasta, which is apparently little curly things that you boil in a pan. Very exotic! I put on my woolly hat and my goofy grin and grabbed the car keys. The car was parked in the driveway, and as I was reversing onto the road there was a very loud crashing noise, which came at the exact same instant as the car stopped dead in its tracks. I looked in both wing mirrors, but couldn't see anything. I moved the car forward a bit, opened the door and had a look at what might have caused my little problem. There was nothing to be seen. Oh, hang on a minute, that was not quite true. There did seem to be something poking out of the top of my car. How curious. I should, at this point, fill you in on a few details about our car. The vehicle we had been renting for the previous seven weeks was a Toyota Rav4 four wheel drive, or "puddle jumper" as the locals liked to call it. Another thing that New Zealand is "World Famous" for is car crime, specifically things being stolen from parked vehicles at some of the more remote tourist attractions. With this in mind, we had chosen a Rav4 with blacked out rear windows, so nobody could see what we had in the back of the car when we were off doing the sights. The down side of this choice, other than making me look like a pimp in a hippo's bladder jacket, was that we couldn't see a damn thing out of the rear window at night. And the damned thing I couldn't see out of the rear window on this particular night, was a very large, very solid, concrete lamppost, which, thanks to the rear door of my Rav4, was now leaning out over the road at what some might call a jaunty angle. I walked to the back of the car to assess the damage, and it did not look good. The spare wheel was bolted onto the rear door, and the lamppost had used this to completely stove in the rear door, which now wouldn't open. I threw my hands up in the air and shouted all my favourite obscenities at the clouds. The clouds let me know what they thought of the whole sorry episode by starting to rain on me. There was nothing else to do except call into Liquorland on the way home from the chip shop. Seven weeks of driving through blizzards and hanging off the edges of cliffs, and I finally get scuppered when a lamppost jumps in front of the car.

The next morning we drove back to Christchurch to drop off the car. At the rental place, I hand over the keys and tell the chap in charge what happened.
"Oh well, never mind eh?" he said after giving the car a quick inspection.
"Is that it?" I asked
"These things happen" he said, grinning. "We'll soon get that hammered out, anyway"
To say I was relieved would be an understatement. Fortunately, when we first hired the car, we took out the insurance excess waiver, which dropped our financial liability in case of an accident from $2500 to $100. I just wasn't sure it would cover us in the event of reversing into a concrete lamppost. After going through the usual formalities, he even gave us a lift to the airport. What a thoroughly pleasant chap. In fact, pretty much everybody we met in New Zealand was friendly and chatty. I can honestly say that I only met four unfriendly people during our entire visit here, and they were all on the ski slopes. I guess some stuck up tossers just resent sharing their pistes with hairy goatboys like me. So, a big thumbs up to the people of New Zealand. Great scenery, great people, a million different things to do (even if some of them do require an unhealthy degree of exertion) and great food and wine. All they need to do is sort out that frozen chip debacle and I think they'll have it sorted.

Mik

What a difference a day makes

Cardrona ski-field, nr. Wanaka, New Zealand

The school holidays were over so we headed back to Wanaka a less touristy town than Queenstown and just that bit closer to the ski-field we wanted to try out. We found a room. It was a good deal considering the time of year, as it was a large one bed unit, but this meant it was very cold. We sat for a while in many layers whilst the heater tried to take the edge off!

We signed up for three days of ski-ing and hired the chains we thought we might need. We set off early and drove the long winding track to the ski fields. We were both very glad we had a 4WD as the road was fairly scary. I was just glad that Mik was happy to drive as I really wouldn't have fancied it. We could barely see 5 metres in front of us and there were fair size drop-offs at the side of the road -agh! The bad weather was certainly going to make for an interesting first day's ski-ing!

We got ourselves kitted out, Mik with his snowboard and me with my skis, and hit the easy slope for a practice run. It was freezing cold, the low cloud meant everything was white and actually finding the piste was difficult, and it was snowing. Being a fair weather skier I really wasn't sure about all this.

We had both signed up for lessons so headed off to see if the professionals were finding these conditions any easier. There were only 3 in my group which was just as well as it would have been very easy to lose the people at the back. As the weather conditions meant we couldn't really ski very fast the instructor had us doing lots of weird tricks like ski-ing on one ski. To practice our balance apparently, although I think he just wanted a laugh. He also decided to try and teach us to stand on the tips of our ski's (whilst still in them), again just for the amusement factor. I mean I'd only need to know how to do stuff like that if I want to be an instructor and show off to my class!

Mik and I then spent the afternoon ski-ing down what we assumed were runs. The snow kept falling and the wind picked up and it got very cold indeed. So cold that the part of my hair which had been exposed was covered in frost and I looked like I had icicles hanging from my head. Still we braved it out til the end. It was our first day afterall.

As we were about to set off down the mountain road a couple asked if they could have a lift as they hadn't wanted to bring their car up. They chucked their boards in the back and off we set. I spent the journey trying to distract them and myself from the fact that the road was a little slippy after the snowfall. Again, god bless 4WD's!

That evening, once showered and fed I don't think we moved. We were exhausted.

We awoke the next day, aching slightly, but to a beautifully clear sky. The perfect weather made such a difference, for a start we could see where we were going. We managed to get a couple of runs in before lessons and it was excellent. Fresh snow and blue skies - now that's my kind of ski-ing. Mik was coming on in leaps and bounds. I was very impressed and after lessons we hit the intermediate slopes and there were very few falls - for either of us! We spent most of the day taking photos of the mountains we hadn't even been able to see the day before and LOADS of video of us trying to do our best ski-ing/boarding - we'll bore you with those when we get home!

We were there til the last lift as it was such a perfect day. Again we headed home and sat in a state of vegetation all evening.

The next morning we had to move rooms. This actually proved to be a good thing as when I went to collect the new key kitted out in my ski gear the lady asked if we were planning to head up to the ski fields at Cardrona. I nodded to the affirmative and she then informed me that the mountain was closed and would be all day! Apparently they had had so much snow overnight that the road was blocked. The weather in this country is just mad! We were really disappointed but decided not to hang around. Our bags were packed, we got a refund on our lift pass and decided to set off for Christchurch and hopefully get some more ski-ing in somewhere else.

Not a bad Plan B, however......when I went to settle up for the the lady said the roads towards Christchurch may also be locked - bloody brilliant! We drove to the information centre to check it out. Hooray they were open. It wasn't exactly what we had had planned for the day but it was an interesting drive. The roads were open but we saw at least one car which had come off the road due to the conditions. They should have paid attention to the radio warnings 'Drive to the conditions, if they change reduce your speed' - sung to a jingle of course!!

Cara

It wasn't all bad

Otago Peninsula, New Zealand

Dunedin, yes give it a miss, but the Otago Peninsula nearby is beautiful. And if you can dodge huge bull seals on the beach you can view the rare yellow eyed penguin from a hide. There are only 3,000 of them. We saw 2!

Cara

I'd rather drill a hole in my forehead than waste time thinking of a title for this entry

Dunedin, South Island, New Zealand

Potentially the dullest, most uninspiring geographical location on the face of this green earth. Should be twinned with Burnley.

Mik

Now that's what I call remote

Te Anau, nr Milford Sound, New Zealand

Upon arrival in Te Anau we did the usual and stopped by the visitors centre to get any recomendations on accomodation. Whilst there we also found out that the road to Milford Sound was closed due to avalanche risk. Oh well it's not like that was the only reason we had come to this remote part of the country! Actually it was, which meant we had no choice but to sit it out. That afternoon didn't turn not bad as they were showing March of the Penguins at the local cinema. As an avid lover of penguins I thought it was a brilliant film and I now want to visit Antarctica. The whole experience was made even better by the fact that the cinema seats were like arm chairs and if we had wanted they would have served us cheese and biscuits!

There were a couple of guys in the room next to us who provided some entertainment. One night they tried to come into our room by mistake. Mik politely advised them of their error and off they stumbled in a drunken haze. The next day the motel owner told us they were hunters and as if to prove the point they came back the following day with a dead wild pig on the back of a truck! Nice, although even nicer were the blood stains from where it had been slaughtered on the back of another truck. Where the hell were we!?!

The next 2 days the road remained closed as they were blasting the snow to get rid of the avalanche risk and then having to clear the road. The second day of waiting we decided to drive the road and see how far we could get. It was a beautiful drive but the barrier was down and we could not get through. To make up for it Mik took us for an offroad experience. Finally he got to see what the car would do. Needless to say I wasn't quite so enthusiastic as we lost sight of town and wheelspan through the mud!

The following morning we got up early, again, in the hope that the road would be clear. Horray, they were going to be opening it at 11am so off we set complete with a set of chains for the car. We arrived at the gate to a queue of traffic. They finally opened the gates at 11.30 and everyone drove very cautiously through the mountain, past the huge piles of dynamite blasted snow. It made for quite a vista.

We then caught a boat and set off into Milford Sound, which we found out is in fact a fjord. The difference, well a sound is the result of rising sea levels flooding valleys, whereas a fjord is the result of glacial erosion. I did a geography degree don't you know. But still had to learn that from the skipper! The boat took us slowly through the stunning scenery and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. This in itself is unusual as Milford is known for it's low mists, even in summer, so we were really lucky in the end! The cruise lasted an hour and a half and we took a million photos, none of which do the place justice. We were then dropped at an underwater observatory where we could view the local fish life.

After the lovely 2 hour drive back to Te Anau we treated ourselves to a night out and went for burgers and beers at the local pub. The next morning we headed out and for the first hour of the journey barely saw another car on the road, talk about isolated.

Cara

Back to earth with a bump, a shudder and an icy slap around the face

Queenstown, South Island, New Zealand

I have always found it fascinating how your environment can affect your perception and mood. For example, during our last month in New Zealand I have been feeling extremely lucky to be here. To be able to wander to and fro as I please without the merest hint of stress, pressure or discontent. Feeling young at heart and eager to enjoy the many and varied experiences this country has to offer. I was viewing the world through the eyes of youthful exuberance and I had even been asked for I.D. when buying booze, for the first time in twenty years (although the legal drinking age is eighteen, most shops ask for I.D. from anybody under thirty. I still enjoyed it). However, on my first morning in Queenstown I awoke to realise that I am actually a scruffy, unemployed, overweight, unhealthy, middle-aged grouch with a girl's haircut and limited prospects. It came as quite a shock to the system, let me tell you. You see, Queenstown claims to be the party capital of New Zealand. It also claims to be the ski capital and the adventure capital of New Zealand. And we arrived at the height of ski season. In the middle of the school winter holidays. And on a Friday night. Shit!

Because we are apparently at the height of NZ's harshest winter for decades, most of the towns we have visited are empty of tourists and the briefest search usually turns up a great room for not a lot of money. Not so in Queenstown. The place was packed to the rafters and what it was packed with was lots of very healthy, wealthy, young people sat outside the many bars and restaurants after finishing a hard day on the piste, flashing everybody with their pearly white teeth and designer sunglasses. Then you have me, wearing the same clothes I have been wearing for the last fourteen months, badly in need of a haircut and feeling old enough to have fathered most of the people around me. And that was just the start.

For the lion's share of our travelling so far, Cara and I have enjoyed a fairly comfortable lifestyle. Of course, we're backpackers eking out our day to day existence on a modest budget and living out of a bag, but for most of the countries we have visited, those few pounds went a long way and we have rarely had to go without. Plush rooms, fancy restaurants and exotic excursions all fell easily within our financial grasp, and enjoy them we did. Our budget was as strong as an ox and could handle everything we threw at it. Then we arrived in New Zealand. We had to cut back on many of our usual luxuries and watch the pennies a little more closely. The budget started to look a little pale around the edges and it was losing stamina rapidly. Then we arrived in Queenstown. Almost immediately the budget suffered a full blown coronary and began hemorrhaging cash in all directions. We tried everything to staunch the flow of money, but it continued to spurt out of every pocket. Nothing could be done and we were both reduced to eating packet noodles in front of the TV whilst the train of inebriated party-goers passed beneath our window.
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Our original plan was to stay in Wanaka, about a hundred kilometres north of Queenstown, and spend a week or so skiing and snowboarding on the nearby slopes. Unfortunately, the only way we could afford any of the accommodation was for both of us to turn tricks on the lakefront, and even then we'd be struggling (whilst Cara could have earned a mint, it turns out it would have cost me a fortune and on the balance of things we would still lose money). Even after moving down to Queenstown, we quickly discovered our plans might prove to be more than our terminally sick budget could take. Couple that with the fact that we had arrived during possibly the busiest skiing period of the entire year and it was clear we needed to rethink our agenda. We decided to stick around for a few days to do the various activities we wanted to get done in town, then move south toward Milford Sound, before heading back to Wanaka after the school holidays were over.

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We booked ourselves onto New Zealand's world-famous Shotover Jet, which involves sitting in a jetboat and driving up and down the canyons of the Shotover river. It was actually great fun, despite the arctic winds and large ice patches on the riverbanks, and quite a novel experience. The boats are extremely quick and agile and can take you places that a boat has no right going. The driver fires the boat full tilt at the rock walls of the canyon, only to whip the steering wheel away at the last second, bringing you so close to the rocks you fear your earlobes might remain behind, dangling from a piece of protruding granite. He also spins the boat in rapid 360 degree turns and skips across riverbeds barely deep enough to wash a sparrow, while his passengers squeal and yelp in mock terror. It is much more enjoyable than it sounds, although that's probably because I'm not describing it very well. The closest analogy I can think of is this; it is like having a pneumatic drill vibrating the length of your spine whilst a grinning maniac drives you straight at a brick wall at top speed, and all the while somebody else is firing crushed ice at your face from a shotgun and tipping water into your lap. You try to smile but a frigid wind freezes your features into a fixed, rictus grin and your left eardrum implodes when the petrified Korean lady sitting next to you screams her surprisingly capacious lungs into the side of your head. There, now that sounds like fun doesn't it? Give it a go, you'll never look at a pedalo the same again.

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That afternoon we took a ride up Queenstown's world-famous gondola cable car, to see the world-famous views over the world-famous lake where world-famous people take world-famous paragliding rides off the world-famous hill and the world-famous blah blah blah. We also enjoyed the world-famous Skyline Luge ride, which is actually more like a toboggan than a luge, as you sit on it rather than riding supine (something to do with soup?). Actually, it's more like a dinner tray with handlebars than a toboggan, but now I'm just being pernickety. Either way it is excellent fun, only costs a couple of dollars, and is probably the most fun you can have wearing a helmet. That night we treated ourselves to Guinness and draught cider in a local pub and the next morning, tired and hungover, we set off for Te Anau from where we would go to see the world-famous Milford Sound.

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Mik

Franz Josef & Fox Glaciers

Franz Josef, New Zealand

The drive from Motueka to Franz Josef was our longest journey yet. It took us about 6 and a half hours and we saw about 3 cars! The drive took us down the west coast of the south island and there aren't many people living there. The biggest town is Greymouth with a population of 13,500!

We arrived in the small town of Franz Josef in the middle of a downpour and unfortunately for me it was my turn to scout out a room. We found a cheap one but this meant no kitchen and only a small heater. We spent the evening in bed with the electric blanket on eating pot noodle. We hadn't warmed to Franz Josef! Litterally.

The reason for coming here was because of the glaciers, one in Franz Josef and one in Fox about 20 miles away. I had wanted to climb on one but as the weather hadn't cleared up I didn't get to do it. We walked up to the terminal/face of each glacier took some piccies, had a drive around, wandered on a grey beach on a grey day, and left in search of better weather.

Cara

Three seasons in one week

Taupo, New Zealand

A definition of irony: "We've had no power because of the snow. I haven't even been able to run my freezers!" A farmer quoted on New Zealand's channel 3 news.

As we were leaving Rotorua we had been reliably informed that we would only get as far as Taupo, the next town. This didn't matter as we wanted to stop there but basically all roads south of Taupo had been closed because of heavy snowfall. We had no idea when we would be able to leave the town. We were hoping it wouldn't take too long to get those roads cleared.
Taupo is a town on the edge of New Zealand's largest lake making for a beautiful setting. It is also close to the countries first national park with it's volcanoes and stunning scenery, where Mordor was filmed in Lord of the Rings. So we really wanted to do one of the day walks there and take in the stunning scenery. This however was the first place where the weather stopped us from doing something. All the snow meant the track was closed and we wouldn't be able to do it. Such a shame as I am sure that a snow covered Mordor would have made an amazing sight.

Taupo was also a centre for other outdoor activities including bungy jumping. Mik decided he was going to do one. I have to say the location for the jump was beautiful. He would be jumping off of the end of a cantilevered platform 47 metres above a crystal clear river. I have to say it made me feel better that it was above water but it still didn't tempt me in the slightest. Off I went to the photo taking viewpoint and Mik headed off to get a big rope tied to his ankles! He looked quite calm but apparently he was, and I quote, "Sh*itting his pants" Still, off he leapt and I'd love to show you photos of him plummeting towards the river but unfortunately the camera didn't play ball and I missed him! Well that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. Sorry Mik.

Another popular activity was tandem skydiving and for reasons I can't recall I had decided that this was something I wanted to do. The decision to do it in Taupo was made not only because of the splendid view one would get on the way down but also because Taupo was the cheapest place in the country to do it. So it looked like the time had come. Some may suggest that flinging yourself out of the plane of the cheapest operator wouldn't be the wisest choice, but hey why spend a lot of money on something you're not sure you are going to enjoy.

We booked ourselves in before I could change my mind and when the time came the weather was perfect. Damn! I was most nervous in the motel room before we set off. Once we got there however we checked in and had to wait a while for our turn. I had thought this would make the nerves worse however we got to watch others landing after their jump and this seemed to reassure me that you could do it and survive! I was actually surprisingly calm as we kitted up, to be honest I don't think I really realised what I was about to do.

We were teamed up with a professional. The guy that was going to be pushing me out of the plane was called Andy G and had a leather hat complete with fake mohican, how reassuring!! He was great though and seemed to be very thorough doing up the straps and buckles, which I certainly appreciated! Mik was teamed up with a guy who had actually been working at the centre in Kent where Mik had done his first jump, and at the same time - small world and all that. So there were 6 of us jumping with our respective professionals and a few extra cameramen, all of whom had to cram into a rather small plane. I knew I didn't want to be the first out but ended up getting on the plane first therefore was going to be the last out - hmmm!

Off we set climbing to 12,000 feet. When we leveled off the door opened pretty quickly and I started to get a bit nervous. People were rapidly disappearing in front of my very eyes and it was a very surreal experience. The worst was obviously seeing Mik sat in the doorway of the plane one second and just gone the next. My guy was great though and did a good job of trying to distract me with songs, as far as I can remember, about gumboots!! The next thing I knew I was sat with my legs out of the plane with the wind whipping at them. They chose this point to make you pose for a photo! But I guess it is a good distraction. I just knew I couldn't look down or I wouldn't want to do it.

So that was that. Suddenly we were falling out of the plane and tumbling through the air. I hadn't expected to find myself upside down and this scared me somewhat. Soon enough we were the right way round and all I could see was the ground coming at me at an alarming rate, so I felt much better! You get tapped on the shoulder and have to put your arms out whilst trying to make a 'banana' shape with your body, i.e. feet up and bellies stuck out. I have absolutely no idea if I was doing this or not. I was just struggling to scream as the force of the air against your face makes it pretty difficult. You only freefall for 45 seconds (falling 7,000 feet in the process) but it actually felt like quite a while. Once the chute is released you slow right down and you can relax and enoy it. I could even see where I was. It was amazing, as we were the last out I had thought we would be able to see parachutes below us but most were already down. The whole experience only lasts about 6 minutes but in that time I got to steer the parachute and look out over the lake towards the mountains on the horizon. Fantastic.

I have to say that for someone who suffers from vertigo I thought I did very well! And I will definitely be doing it again. I have to say though that it's one thing to get pushed out of a plane with someone strapped to you, but quite another to throw yourself off a platform with just a rope attached to you so well done Mik.

For a bit of relaxation we headed to a local park where we first wandered round the geothermal areas and then hit the hot water stream. Having enjoyed the hot water beach so much we thought we'd try it again. And no need for spades! We found a natural pool complete with mini waterfall, and climbed in. It was a glorious and sunny day so no stripping off for Mik this time as the passers-by might have had a bit of a shock!

Napier, New Zealand

Luckily when it came time to leave Taupo the roads had been cleared and so we set off east for Napier on the coast. We found ourselves another lovely motel straight out of the 1970's complete with yellow formica kitchen surfaces! They are of course the cheaper motels but hey they throw in a pint of milk too so you can't complain! The town itself is famous for it's art deco buildings built after an earthquake practically destroyed the town in 1931. Once we had seen them and had visited a lonely dolphin we moved on.

Wellington, New Zealand

Arriving in the NZ capital of Wellington meant driving on motorway for the second time on the island! It is the capital afterall, but with a population of just 250,000 they don't exactly have UK style traffic problems! Their motorways are therefore very few and far between and are also very short pieces! It never ceases to amaze us just how few people actually live in New Zealand for it's size. It makes for magnificent views of unspoilt countryside and quiet roads as well as cities which aren't overcrowded. Nice.

We would be catching the boat across to the south island from here but also wanted to stay a day to visit Te Papa - the Museum of New Zealand. There was a Lord of the Rings exhibition on here which was excellent. They had costumes and weapons from the film and showed just how they made the hobbits etc look so much smaller than the others. The amount of work that went into the films is just staggering. We also took in a world news photographic exhibition but that was about it. Blimey I nearly forgot to mention the fish and chips! We found a place which did proper handcut chips instead of the frozen ones Mik had been complaining about. He, needless to say, was in heaven!

Cara

All Blacks, Goldilocks and the foul stench of hell

Coromandel Peninsula, North Island, NZ

Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.
-Mark Twain


Auckland, Part II
After our trip around the Northlands, we made our way back to Auckland for a night before heading south. After arriving back in the city we drove straight to Eden Park where we managed to bag a couple of tickets to that evening's rugby test between the All Blacks and Ireland. The seats were uncovered and down near the pitch, but it wouldn't be a problem would it? After all, this was New Zealand in the middle of winter. I'm sure we'll be fine.

We checked ourselves into the same hotel we had stayed at during our previous visit and set off to watch the rugby. At the train station the platform was packed with black and green shirts and it was obvious that a few people had been on the sauce for quite a few hours already. There was a good party atmosphere despite the crappy weather but by the time we reached Eden Park the rain was torrential. I was wearing my new coat, which had officially been named Least Funky Jacket Ever Made, as it looked like a hippo's bladder with pockets. On the plus side, it was completely waterproof so the rain didn't prove to be much of a problem. Cara was in the same boat with her hippo's bladder and we both sat in the stands, nice and dry. Although the rain didn't let up for the entire match, we still had a great time watching a top quality game. Now we all know the kiwis are supposed to be fanatical about rugby, but I'm sorry to say New Zealand, the Irish fans were making most of the noise. Mind you, that might have been because half of the NZ fans around us left the stand to get out of the rain. Hmmmmmm, fanatical you say? After the match we walked back into the city. Two minutes after we left the stadium the rain stopped.

Coromandel Peninsula
From Auckland we drove down to the Coromandel Peninsula for a few days. We initially planned to spend a night in Thames at the base of the peninsula, but after driving around the town we realised the only entertainment to be found was watching teenagers overrev their cars on the local garage forecourt, so we decided to move on. After driving around the northern tip of the peninsula along the very scenic coastal road, we finally arrived in Whitianga. After a bit of research, we managed to bag ourselves a great little cottage with two bedrooms and a well stocked kitchen, and all for less than the local backpacker hostel wanted for a double room with a shared bathroom. It certainly pays to shop around in the quiet season, as most motels are fairly empty and happy to get any business, whereas a lot of the hostels get a steady stream of crusties all year round and rarely offer decent discounts. More importantly, we had Sky TV so we could watch the World Cup matches from the comfort of our own bed.

The next day we planned to visit Cathedral Cove and Hot Water Beach, which had both been recommended by friends and our guidebook, but when we woke up, it was hammering down with rain and we decided instead to take a drive up to a couple of waterfalls in the hills. The next morning it was still raining, so we decided to go anyway.

Cathedral Cove is a series of vast arches and tunnels worn into the limestone cliffs by the sea, and connected by a narrow strip of beach. Hot Water Beach is exactly that, a beach with hot water. Although the name Hot Water Beach refers to a fairly long stretch of sand, the hot water part is restricted to a small area, accessed only at low tide, where water heated underground seeps out of the sand. Small shovels can be hired from a café near the beach, and you can dig a hole in the sand, which fills up with the hot water and you have your very own hot tub on the beach. Sounds like fun, but I wasn't convinced this would be the best time of year to try it. The tide would not be far enough out until after dark and it was not the warmest day to start with.
We drove down to Hot Water Beach on the way to Cathedral Cove, as we would need to hire a shovel for later and the café would be closed long before the tide went out. We secured our shovel for a few dollars and promised to leave it outside their backdoor before we left. They were clearly not expecting many people to show up in this weather. From there we drove on to Cathedral Cove car park, which was a half hour walk down to the cove itself. The rain was still coming down but we took the walk anyway. After all, I had The Least Funky Coat Ever Made, and that would keep me warm and dry in any weather. The Cove was fairly impressive, but quite frankly the weather was not helping anybody except the fish and by the time we made it back to the car we were cold, wet and hungry.

Late in the afternoon we drove back toward hot water beach. The weather was taking a turn for the worse and the wind was gale force, but we had already spent $4 on a shovel so there was no way we were giving up. The tide wouldn't be out far enough until after sunset, so we would just have to sit and wait. With every minute that passed, the wind blew harder, the rain fell heavier and the temperature dropped faster than a squirrel tied to a house brick.

As the last of the sunlight drained out of the sky, we prepared to go down onto the beach. I changed into my shorts and peeled off my shoes and socks. Cara was wearing her bikini under her clothes and wisely decided to keep everything on until after we had dug the pool. We both made our way down onto the beach and ran as fast as we could to where the hot water seeped out of the sand, four hundred metres away. Down on the sand the wind was howling in off the sea, and we had both almost lost all sensation in our feet by the time we reached our goal. We could see steam rising off the sand and we started to dig with our small shovel. I stood in the hole and shovelled out the hot sand as fast as I could as the wind whipped around us. The plan was to dig out a small pool for us to sit in and keep warm before we froze solid, but our first attempt was off the mark. As the pool filled with the hot water seeping out of the ground, my feet became warmer and warmer, until eventually the pool was too hot to stand in. Strike one. I moved a bit further down the beach and started digging again. This time the water was too cold. Strike two. Apart from being bloody freezing, I was starting to feel like Goldilocks working her way through the porridge. On the third attempt we struck baby bear's porridge. Well, actually we struck geothermally heated sea water, but you gather my inference. It was just right.

We both took it turns digging until we had a pool big enough to sit in. By this time the weather was atrocious and I was getting cold feet about stripping off and jumping in. Actually, what I was more concerned about was getting out of the water and turning into a snow man. Cara had no such concerns and whipped off her clothes and dived in. It was just like laying in a hot bath, she said. I just stood in the pool to keep my feet warm and left it at that, until my woolly hat blew off the top of my head and was almost gone into the night forever, before I finally caught up with it way down the beach. The steam rising off the pool was looking very inviting but I was even more concerned about making it back to the car after we got out of the water. The dilemma was finally resolved by my male ego. I am a full-blooded Lancastrian male and could I really let myself be outdone by an Essex girl? Actually, I probably could if I thought for a second that Cara would ever let me live it down.

Oh well, I thought. If I was going to do it, it should be done properly. Off came the raincoat and the fleece. I took a look around to make sure we were alone then off came the shorts. It was bloody freezing, and the cold was only slightly less pleasant than having my nether regions sandblasted by a howling wind on a dark, remote, beach in the back-end of nowhere. I jumped into the pool (it was actually more like a large puddle) and the difference was incredible. It really is like sitting in a very hot bath. Imagine sitting in your tub at home, while somebody sprays you with a cold shower and throws sand in your face and you'll have some idea of what I'm talking about. It was fantastic and I could have stayed there forever, but sooner or later we had to get out. And what an experience that was. Unpleasant, would be the kindest way to describe it. After drying off as best we could with a towel and pulling on our clothes, we ran for the car park. On the way back we passed a couple who must have been very surprised to see a large, hairy, naked man briefly lit up against the cold night sky by our camera flashes, as we recorded the event for posterity. The things you see on the beach. Back at the car the engine went on and the heater was ratcheted up to hot and crispy. We had a hilarious time on the beach but neither of us are eager to repeat that mad dash back to the car again. Not flattering weather at all, and we have the pictures to prove it.

Although by now it was getting quite late, we decided to treat ourselves and cook a large roast for dinner. For the first time in our entire trip, we had an oven, and it would be a crime not to use it. We bought everything we needed once back in Whitianga and that night Cara and I enjoyed a roast chicken with stuffing, roasted and mashed potatoes, half a gallon of gravy, and some vegetables for Cara. What luxury, our first roast dinner in fourteen months.

The next morning we set off for Rotorua and there was not a single cloud in the sky. Bloody weather.

Rotorua
In central North Island, and about four hours drive from Whitianga, Rotorua is famous for smelling like freeze-dried vomit. Oh, and there are also some thermal springs, geysers and other assorted geothermal activities, but the sickly, egg sandwich, have you farted smell is it's main claim to fame. I quite liked the town, as it is possibly the only place in the world where I can take off my socks in public and nobody will notice. And you can also buy a large pizza for two quid, which is ideal for crashing out on the bed and watching the football highlights. We stayed here for a few days, walking around the lake and visiting the thermal springs and mud pools etc. Daytime activity wasn't too strenuous as we were getting up at three or seven O'clock in the morning to watch some of the World Cup matches and we didn't want to strain ourselves. The weather wasn't too great either so we rarely strayed far from home. From Rotorua we moved south to Taupo where hopefully things would get a little more exciting.

Mik

Fish & chips and cider - home from home

Auckland & Bay of Islands, New Zealand

We arrived in Auckland on a Friday afternoon having left Rarotonga on Thursday morning. This was of course as we had crossed the international dateline. The flight itself was only about 4 hours but we had lost a day (but gained a days budget!) and had gone from being 11 hours behind the UK to 11 hours ahead. Bizarre.

Landing in Auckland was exciting but also cold! We were looking forward to exploring New Zealand but it was also their winter! This meant that after 5 whole months of summerwear we had to dig out what winter woolies we had. Having done this we quickly realised we would have need to get some proper stuff. What a great excuse to go shopping! Much time was spent perusing the empty shopping streets of Auckland, we couldn't work out where everyone was, but I guess with a population of 1.2mil Auckland isn't exactly a massive city, and they obviously don't consider Saturday a serious shopping day! Anyway, Mik eventually decided which coat he wanted to buy and we could concentrate on other activities!!

Like finding out what food was on offer! There was sushi galore, which was a real treat for me, hundreds of Chinese restaurants due to the large Asian community in Auckland AND most importantly (for Mik at least) fish and chip shops. One night we treated ourselves to a meal in a Brazilian restaurant. It had been so fantastic in Rio we couldn't resist. It was great, as much meat off the skewer as we could eat but it cost us a day's budget! I think that was a bit of a wake up call for us, we wouldn't be eating out much during our time in NZ.

The weather did come as a bit of a shock but part of me found it a nice change - go figure! Not the rain though, and the first afternoon there it was raining. We headed out with our umbrella, unfortunately it was also extremely windy and before we knew it our high quality umbrella, bought on the streets of Bolivia, was destroyed. Great! Not even an umbrella could have helped us the following day as we wandered around the city being soaked by horizontal rain, quite impressive! This was of course also before we had stocked up on decent waterproofs.

Our activities were further hindered the next day by a power cut. We lost power at 8.30am and when one is in a city you don't really expect it to last long so we set out for the shops hoping it would be back on by the time we got there. Yeah right! The power cut lasted nearly the whole day in most parts of Auckland. The whole city had gone down and as such many businesses had closed up for the day and gone home (to rescue the food in their freezers no doubt!) So we wandered the empty streets not able to book a hire car or buy anything. The most annoying part was that there wasn't much to be had by way of food either, in fact it was 4pm and the electricity had just come back on before we got some food - fish and chips by the way!

We had arrived in Auckland on the first day of the World Cup and as such made it our mission to find somewhere where they were going to show the England game the following day. Being 10 hours ahead of Germany wasn't going to make this an easy task as games were going to be at 1, 4 or 7am in the morning our time! Luckily the first England game was at 1am and we found a pub (serving pints of ale and cider - result!) which was showing it. We went earlier the same evening to watch the rugby and even though New Zealand had been playing there were actually about 3 times as many people watching the footie which made for a good atmosphere - despite England's poor performance. It was even better in that they don't allow smoking in pubs anymore, so there were many people watching the game through the windows, fag in hand!

Having sussed out the campervan and car rental deals we eventually decided to go for the car. I had really wanted to try and campervan at least for a few days but it was so wet and cold, and as we got a good offer on a 4x4 we went with that. This would also probably come in very handy when we reached the South Island as they had just had highest snowfall for 14 years - that could prove interesting! So after the winter clothes had been bought and the car hired, off we headed. The motorway out of the city only lasted until the skyline was out of view then became your average A road. Apparently they don't have much motorway at all, anywhere, but then with a mere 4 million people living in the entire country I guess they don't need them.

Our first stop was the Bay of Islands to the north east of Auckland where we were hoping for less rain! The area is beautiful and the lack of motorways made for a really enjoyable drive. We explored the bay and one of the islands by getting a boat across and luckily it was a beautiful day (well the morning at least). The weather appears to be very changable here! As we are visiting in the off season (could it be the rain putting people off?) there weren't many people out and about here either. In fact the largest number of people we saw in one place was when we got up at 6.30am to go to one of the local bars which was showing the footie and doing a breakfast special! The fry up was enough to tempt me up that early to watch football!

We also visited the Waitangi National Reserve covering the site where the treaty between New Zealand and Britain was signed back in 1832 making NZ a British colony. Then we decided to head further north to Ninety Mile beach, so called because.....well actually we don't know as the beach isn't actually quite that long. The locals obviously decided that 82 mile beach didn't have the same ring to it! We saw a very small section of the stunningly wild beach as the weather was closing in and we decided it we wouldn't drive the length of it. Instead we headed back south, crossed a river by ferry and stopped in a small harbour town for the night. We spotted a B&B sign and were really glad we checked it out as we ended up getting a whole 2 bed cottage to ourselves. It was the biggest place we had stayed in and even though it was just for one night we really enjoyed having a lounge and separate bedroom. Real luxury.

We had intended to set off early the following morning but as it was chucking it down we had a lie in ('cos we don't get many of those!)! The plan was to head into the Waipoua Kauri Forest and go for a walk to check out the famous indigenous trees. We reached the parking area at the start of the trail on vapour and after a chat to some guys who were travelling in the opposite direction we realised we would have to go back the way we came to fill up! Having done this and come back to the forest the rains came down and we abandoned the idea of a walk. We took a quick detour to see just one of the trees then headed back to Auckland. If we got there in time, and there were tickets left, we wanted to go see the All Blacks play Ireland at rugby. Fingers crossed as I don't think seeing a tree qualifies as an overly productive day!!

Cara