Fourteen
months later, it was finally time for the yellow shorts to move to new
territory. One week ago I boarded a plane in Auckland, waved goodbye to my Kiwi
home, and flew west to Melbourne, Australia. But not before going on one more
adventure.
With
my trusty sidekick Karen, who opened many doors of opportunity for me
throughout my NZ trip, I started a venture north of Auckland to discover the
Far North and make it to the northernmost tip of the North Island in New Zealand.
Yes, I just used the word 'north' four times in one sentence.
I
flew into Palmerston North (there's another north!) and from there we started
driving...north...to look at a large calving operation. We sprinkled in a bit
of work to validate our whole trip, but it was largely to find sunshine and
coastline. We took a detour to the ski hills of Ruapehu where the temperature
dropped from 20 to 9, but the views were spectacular. We stayed the night in
Raglan, and I got one more chance to enjoy the best fish and chips in the
country (at least that I've tried).
Our
next stop was Gulf Harbor just outside of Auckland. Karen's dad has a yacht he
sails throughout the summer, but our high hopes of sailing were quashed when
there was confusion about the dates and Karen's father was no where to be seen.
But no matter! Even in a harbor a yacht is a luxury, so we set up shop and
slept at the marina.
Then
on up we continued! On a random pamphlet that Karen picked up, a place called
Abbey Caves was described as a 'photographer's paradise' and thus we had to
explore. As it turns out, it is a true, unguided, caving experience. The man at
the top recommended we have proper walking shoes, a headlamp, and clothes we
didn't mind getting waist deep in water. So we went with our sandals, an
iPhone, and our normal (white) clothes.
At
the mouth of the first of three caves, it started a bit like this:
Karen: Go!Me: No!Karen: Go on! Do it!Me: No way!Karen: You'll be fine! Go on!Me: I know I can go down, but I'm concerned about getting back up! And I have no faith that you can lift me!
Moments
later we shifted positions and Karen went down first, so of course I followed.
The caves were beautiful, and it's remarkable that they're unguided and not a
tourist attraction. We saw glowworms directly overhead, and I'm pretty sure
they were in my hair as my head scraped the narrow passages. We ventured into
all three caves until the water got too deep since neither of us was willing to
sit wet in a car for hours. I would like to point out that when we returned to
the mouth of the first cave, Karen stopped and said:
"...I'm not really sure how to get out."
Obviously
we got out, and we journeyed past Whangarei to Whananaki South to stay with Karen's friends. It was a beautiful place with good people and a large supply
of white wine. Also, the longest footbridge in New Zealand.
Our
next stop was Paihia and the Bay of Islands, a gorgeous bay that any individual
would want to retire in. There was nowhere to look where it wasn't pristine blue
water and golden sand. While the weather didn’t lend itself to swimming,
it did to walking. We did a lot of walking. Along the sand, over the rocks, on
foothills, and even up a steep cliff on an unmarked path that I was determined
was correct. As it turns out, I was wrong and in the completely wrong and
likely unsafe place. For some reason, when I suggested bush walking along the
cliff’s edge, Karen refused, and we turned around to find another, perhaps
safer, path.
Now
I’m going to hurry us along to the highlight of the trip: the Far North,
including the 90 Mile Beach and Cape Reinga. We decided to take a bus tour that
would take us to the top, because if you want to drive on the beach, you’re
better off not sacrificing the underside of your car in the salt water. The 90
Mile Beach itself is in fact 50 miles long, and we drove three quarters of it
to make our way to the sand dunes. The surf is terrifying, and the beach is
largely used for fishing and occasional surfing, but not swimming.
Our
next stop was sand tobogganing on the sand dunes. If that doesn’t sound awesome
to you, we’re never traveling together. It was so much fun. You had the option
of three sleds: two that you sat in, and one that you laid your stomach on.
They were each varying speeds. I took the middle sled down twice (and in case
you didn’t realize, that means hiking UP the sand dune first). We came to the
end of our time, when no one had yet done the fast board. Then, from the top of
the hill:
Karen: Do the fast one!Me: No!Karen: C’mon! Do the fast one! Don’t be silly!Me: No! We’re leaving, everyone’s done!Karen: DO THE FAST ONEMe: FINE
I
proceeded to hike up the sand dune again, passing the guide on my way, who
taught me how to lay on the board and wished me luck.
So
with two busloads of people watching, I laid down on the boogie board while
Karen sat next to me on her ‘slow’ sled. I took off. Screaming. It was
terrifyingly fun, right up until I hit the bottom of the dune, where there was
a shallow stream that ran several bus lengths. I flew across it, putting
a foot out and causing myself to swerve and spin, covering myself in water and
sand while simultaneously skinning my arm. It was awesome. I got a lot of high
fives and smiles from my co-passengers, and the bus driver offered me a towel.
But
we haven’t even gotten to the coolest part yet! We kept driving north, believe
it or not. Up to Cape Reinga, the definition of Far North, where the Tasman Sea
and the Pacific Ocean meet. Supposedly it’s the only land where you can stand
and see two oceans meeting, and it’s incredible. Where the two currents come
together is a whirlpool of waves and rips, something you would want to steer
clear on a boat. I could have watched it for ages (pictures don't do it justice), but we were limited to an
hour. Karen and I were last on the bus, and we then started our return journey
south.
Then we drove. And we drove
some more. To make our travel more interesting, we drove up on the east coast
and down on the west. We almost managed our entire trip with free
accommodation, but gave in after our long bus trip and paid $109 for a hotel
room. Then we went south to Auckland with a brief pit stop at Tane Mahuta, the
oldest and largest Kauri tree in New Zealand.
Because we couldn’t admit
that our adventure was over, we caught the last ferry to Rangitoto, a
volcano/island off the coast of Auckland. There we caught up with Caro, one of
the girls we calf reared with on the South Island. We hiked to the top and
sweat our butts off, then ran down to make sure we caught the last ferry home.
After dinner and a coffee, we split ways and Karen and I headed to her Aunt’s
for our last night of free accommodation until I flew out to Melbourne the next
day.
I’d be lying if a said I
flew out of New Zealand happily. I
tried to hold it together as we became airborne, but I think my neighboring
passengers saw through me. It amazes me how fast a year goes by; it still feels
like it’s only been a few months since I flew across the Pacific the first
time.
I’ve been in Melbourne a
week, and it’s been great. But I’m going to save the Australia blog post for
now! All I’ll say is that I’ve only got a few more hours in the city until we
take off for a four day camping trip on the Great Ocean Road. Can’t wait to
share about it!
