Arrived 20/01/20
Auckland
Six hours after leaving Bali and 2 hours ahead we touched down in Brisbane, then 1 hour later took off again for our 3 hour flight to Auckland, another 3 hours ahead, all of which meant it was 12.25 pm when we got to NZ, having had only the briefest doze overnight on the planes. We picked up our hire car, found the hotel, just on the edge of the Central Business District, and did some shopping to stock up on breakfast items for our studio flat and lunch items to save money in a country that is going to be a lot more expensive than SE Asia.
An understandably slow start the next day was followed by a walk around the Domain, the city’s oldest and very pleasant park and then a look at the city centre. Corriene loved the shops on Queen Street but I must confess it was I who fell into temptation and bought a rather colourful shirt. Well, I may have got my complement of shirts back up to par, but I had not replaced the lovely but now very shrunken red shirt I bought on my first Bali visit, so there was a definite need. At least, that’s how I persuaded myself it was a good idea.
Despite being New Zealand’s largest city, with a population of 1.6 million (one third of the total NZ headcount and nearly 8 times as many as the capital, Wellington), Auckland has a laid back feel and is easy to both walk and drive around. Even in the city centre traffic is light; we saw very little queuing. Pavements are wide and everyone observes the pedestrian crossing lights. It was a particular pleasure to be able to cross on green and not have to watch out for traffic coming around the corner as you do in Asia. Nor do motor bikes teem everywhere on the roads, let alone the pavements, which are strangely clear of obstructions. Bliss.
The next day we set off in good time to walk to the ferry terminal in the centre of town to catch the ferry for the 35 minute journey to Waiheke Island across the calm waters of Auckland Harbour and the Hauraki Gulf. We bought a combination ticket that also included a hop on – hop off bus on the island. Our first stop was the little town of Oneroa, which was full of character and expensive little shops – would you pay NZ$50 (£25) for a pair of flip-flops? Another trip on the bus took us to Ostend, where we soon wondered why we had stopped. Moving swiftly on we came to Onetangi with its attractive beach, where we sat and ate our sandwiches before the bus took us to Batch Winery.
The island is covered in wineries, all selling tastings and most with restaurants selling fancy food with prices to match. I might have been tempted into a tasting but it wasn’t Corriene’s cup of tea (not that she drinks tea and not that we would have been drinking tea anyway, but you know what I mean), so we set off on a hike through the bush that promised wonderful views and I am sure they would have been for Waiheke is a very scenic island, but with dense bush all around we did not see much other than trees and bushes. We did visit the rather misleadingly named Cascades; unfortunately, given the extended dry weather they would more appropriately have been called the Dribbles. There were numerous rodent traps; introduced feral mammals cause havoc to the native flightless birds. At one point I spotted a useful short cut, only to find after 20 minutes downhill walking that it led to a dead end. Not so useful after all, especially as it was all uphill coming back. Further on, around the delightfully named Dotties Lane, we came across lots of young native plants in protective surrounds tended by an elderly volunteer who had planted them and now needed to keep them watered through the hot, dry weather.
A final bus trip took us to Mudbrick Vineyard and another hike. Once again we had to retrace our steps, this time because of a track closure, and just made the ferry. We had had a good day and done a lot of walking for a change.
The Museum of Transport and Technology (MOTAT) sounded interesting and so it proved when we visited the next morning on our way out of the city. Huge old working steam engines, a collection of cars, an exhibition of telecommunications developments, a collection of trams and interactive exhibits made it a delight for children of all ages – even us. Uncle Syd used to volunteer here, working on tram restoration I believe. We took one of the trams to the MOTAT 2 site where a huge hanger was packed with vintage airplanes including flying boats with vast bellies and a Lancaster bomber. We could easily have spent longer but needed to get on our way to Whangerei.
Northland
Whangerei
The traffic was a little slow getting out of Auckland and very busy on Highway 1 leading north; a lot of work is in progress to improve the road. We turned east to Mangawhai, stopping for coffee and finding it hard to get hold of: the first café in town had a broken coffee machine, the second had stopped serving coffee and was cleaning the machine (at 3.00pm), ditto the third café; finally we found one that was able to serve us; unfortunately the coffee wasn’t great. Never mind. On to Mangawhai Heads to admire the beach and islands. Then on again to Marsden Point to look over the bay at Whangerei Heads from outside the oil refinery, before finally reaching our B&B on the northern side of town. We were soon off again to see the local waterfall, which was more impressive than the ones we travelled miles for in Lombok, and on again for dinner at Tutukaka, where cousin John used to have his yacht. The countryside all day had been lovely, with wooded hills, grassy meadows (albeit looking rather dry) and glorious beaches and headlands – and as a bonus I had rarely had to drive in a straight line because the roads were continuously windy.
Paihia
Leaving Whangerei we made for Whangerei Heads out on the peninsular opposite the refinery, with more marvellous sea views at Ocean Beach and Urquharts Bay, although the latter was also ‘blessed’ with the sight of the oil terminal. We then followed a circular route to take us back via Pataua, only to find that the road did not quite make it across the channel there and, not having the foresight to have an amphibious car, we had to return the way we had come before going north again on the busy Highway 1 for some miles to the turning for the Old Russell Road. This took us back towards the coast where, on a hill high above Helena Bay there is an art gallery and restaurant. We had a rather unusual French toast for lunch, complete with cream, bacon and fruit salad (sounds weird but it kind of worked), and earmarked several tens of thousands of dollars worth of very attractive vases, bowls and pictures to decorate our $14 million home on Waiheke Island when we win the Euromillions lottery. After that it was just more fantastic beaches (by this time they were starting to blur one into another in the memory) on the way to the very pleasant little town of Russell on the Bay of Islands and then the car ferry cross to Paihia and our studio apartment for the night.
Awanui
A shorter day took us to Awanui, 5 miles up the road from Kaitaia, where we arrived at 2.30 and enjoyed a restful and productive afternoon booking the Picton ferry and Corriene’s bus home from Heathrow. On the way we took a diversion out to Te Ngaere beach (my favourite so far) and another up the Karikari peninsular, where we turned back a couple of miles short of the beach when we hit a dirt road that was so corrugated I was afraid for the welfare of our rental car – and our brains.
From Awanui to Cape Reinga at the northern tip of New Zealand there are two routes: one up the main road and the other up the beach. This isn’t any old beach; this is Ninety Mile Beach, so called because, well, I guess you can work it out. Actually you cannot drive the whole way, and getting on and off the beach involves driving through a stream and soft sand which can be a challenge even for 4-wheel drive cars. We certainly couldn’t take our rental car through that, but luckily there was a bus trip available. It took us up the road and down the beach so as to avoid the softer sands at the top of the beach during the morning high tide. We stopped at Houhora, where a camping site had a beautiful position on the shores of the harbour, before heading on to the local shop and a ‘small’ ice cream (in reality a small mountain). On the way we passed thousands of acres of new avocado plantations; this water hungry but valuable crop grows well here but is being blamed for the water shortage in the current dry summer. Before reaching the cape we stopped at a lovely beach for lunch; I decided it was time to test the waters and waded out into the surf, which was surprisingly cold after the ocean at Bali, and rolled with the breakers for a while.
The cape itself was spectacular. According to Maori belief it is where the souls of the deceased leave the land to begin their journey home. I don’t know about that, but it is certainly a memorable place, the headland’s cliffs jutting out into the foaming surf all around and the lighthouse sitting handsomely above.
After letting air out of the tyres to get better traction on the tricky track stream quicksand, the bus then took us to giant sand dunes where we were issued with a board and given the opportunity to slide down. Corriene unaccountably declined but I gave it a go, climbing 2 feet forward and 1 foot back up the steep dune before laying on my board and whizzing down. Many people when they reached the bottom continued impressively shooting across the level flat sand; my board came to an ignominious stop while I slid off the front onto the sand; clearly I had not quite got the hang of this.
We drove on and stopped on the beach while the driver re-inflated the tyres and then set off for our 50 mile drive at highway speeds along the sands, slowing slightly only when the winds and waves or streams had carved out bumps.
The final stop was at a kauri shop. There used to be vast numbers of this huge tree in Northland but the short-sighted European settlers cut most of them down. The bowls, carvings, ornaments and other items on sale here are all made from swamp kauri – fallen trees that have been preserved in marshy ground and then dug up. Amazingly, many of these trees are estimated to be over 40,000 years old and their timber is still of excellent quality. One such specimen is the centrepiece of this shop, so large that its insides have been carved out to create a spiral staircase within the trunk.
Ruawai
Leaving Awanui the next day we drove (by road) to the southern end of Ninety Mile Beach, just so we could say we had seen it end to end, and then moved on the beautiful Hokianga harbour, where we were lucky, not only to arrive just in time for the ferry, but also to be the last car they could fit on board. We parked at the mouth of the harbour and walked out to the the site of the old signal station which for many years guided the old sailing ships across the dangerous sandbar and into the safe waters beyond. There was a sign explaining that of the hundreds of ships that attempted to negotiate the entrance ‘only’ 16 were wrecked. There was no sign of them now but the view was fantastic. Again.
The road south wound tortuously through forested hills where we stopped to visit Tane Mahuta, the lord of the forest, the largest (by volume) living kauri tree. We stood in awe in front of this giant who has been thriving here for an estimated 2,000 years. Compared to us it seemed so permanent.
A detour ahead took us to Kai Iwi Lakes, not far from the sea but freshwater and very popular for water sports.
Our accommodation for the night was a B&B out in the country with retired dairy farmers Peter and Sarah. It was quite an experience, Sarah, a whirlwind of energy, enlisting our ‘assistance’ in rounding up horses, cattle, alpacas, a donkey and a goat. She had just got back from weightlifting after a 3 day horse ride in rough country; the next morning she was off to yoga before breakfast and justice of the peace duties afterwards; she has also recently taken up scuba diving, roping in Peter, keeps bees and rare New Zealand geckos, teaches horse riding and frequently judges horse events. Peter, meanwhile, had been out fencing all day and the next morning took us to the peak of Toka Toka, a volcanic plug with 360 degree views. We had a lot of laughs.
Before we left the area we visited the Kauri Museum at Matakohe, a terrific place – and if I say that about a museum you know it must be good. It had steam engines installed in a sawmill, huge kauri trunks and planks, lots of interesting old photos and reconstructions of old houses and collections of kauri gum, the beautiful amber produced in large quantities by the tree and dug up by the early settlers. We could have spent longer there but lunch and the journey to Coromandel were calling.
Whitianga
When planning this leg several days earlier I had allowed time for a leisurely drive around the Coromandel peninsula but what with our walk up Toka Toka and the museum visit we didn’t leave Matakohe until after 1.00. Consequently we couldn’t stop much but despite the heavily overcast and slightly drizzly weather still appreciated the scenic Coromandel coastline with the road winding its way just feet away from the rocky shore before heading inland after Coromandel town to climb the hills between there and Whitianga on the east side where we finally arrived at 6.40. This was where we found our cheapest meal so far in New Zealand, a takeaway fish and chips for Corriene and burger for me, all very good and just NZ$20. Regrettably we were not able to do more local exploration. We will have to spend more time in the area when we return to the country. Four weeks down under every UK winter sounds very attractive…
Hobbiton
The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit were filmed at 158 locations around NZ. The best known one is the hobbit village near Matamata. It was constructed from temporary materials for the original series of films, then removed, and then rebuilt permanently for The Hobbit. We ummed and ahed about visiting, not because we weren’t interested but because of the outrageous cost – NZ$84 (£42) each for a 2 hour tour. In the end we decided it had to be done. We arrived at 11.40 to find the first available tour (they run every few minutes) was 1.30. The place was packed; they average 2,700 visitors a day through the year, so the place is a gold mine for the farmer who owns the land and Peter Jackson, the films’ director who part owns the business.
Visitors are taken by bus from the reception area to the village itself. On the way a video plays welcome messages from the proprietors interspersed with scenes from the films and the Shire theme music to get you in the mood. All tours are accompanied by guides who provide interesting information about the making of the set and the filming, including the tricks used to create the illusion of height differences between the little hobbits and Gandalf. The attention to detail in the set is extraordinary; even the fences have fake lichen on them and the philosophy is taken to an extreme in the case of the oak tree above Bag End. For the Lord of The Rings a large tree was transplanted and placed there before being taken away after filming; for The Hobbit a 60 years younger version of that same tree was needed so an artificial tree was made in Taiwan and shipped over. Peter Jackson wasn’t happy with the leaf colour so had all the leaves spray painted. After all that the tree features in the film for a full 8 seconds as a reflection in the pond!
That of course is all very well, but how did it feel to be there? It felt great. The place is absolutely enchanting. It made us feel we wanted to live in a hobbit house in a hobbit village. A full man-sized one maybe, but one just as magical, with a local like the Green Dragon, where we had a drink at the end of the tour. So are we glad we visited? Definitely yes, even though the wallet is gasping.
Shocking Hat News: Corriene has never been fond of her latest hat but after one attempt to lose it in Bali has managed to hold on to it. Until now. She had it when she went in the café at the Hobbiton reception but not when she came out. An exhaustive search revealed no sign of it, so now we are on the lookout for her fourth hat of the trip!
Rotorua
Rotorua is the ‘thermal’ capital of New Zealand: the area is host to a a large number of hot bubbling mud pools and geysers, all the good ones charging steep fees to view, so we started at the cheap end in the local park. It may have been free but it was hardly spectacular, although I must confess that steaming pools are not something one sees everyday at Vivary park in Taunton! The beautiful 28 C sunny weather we had throughout most of Northland deserted us for a while and although still warm we had to dodge a light shower as we walked by the lake.
The next day we resolved to experience more of the local wonders of nature and headed to Waimangu Volcanic Valley where in 1866 an explosion of Tarawera volcano had destroyed the famous pink and white terraces and devastated the surrounding landscape, opening up a whole series of mini craters in a rift. Since then thermal activity has been constantly evolving and native bush has reclaimed the desolate land, providing walks that are both scenic and very interesting. The valley is carefully looked after to prevent human damage while at the same time visitors are well catered for with good footpaths and lots of information; Corriene even managed to buy a new hat! We walked right through to Lake Rotomahana, including the Mt Haszard hiking trail, and then caught the bus back to the reception area to continue our journey along the shores of Lake Taupo, filling a giant caldera, to our overnight stop at Turangi.
Turangi
The night here was notable only for the Chinese meal. In Auckland we had had a Chinese and been given huge portions; we thought that was a one off but it seems not because we had the same experience here. We ordered a dish each and both were enough for two people so we ate what we could and took the rest home in a doggie bag to eat the next night.
Wellington
The route south took us along the Desert Road across the relatively barren plain that surrounds the central volcanoes of Tongariro, Ngaurahoe and Ruapehu, scenery different to anywhere else we had seen in NZ.
We stopped for coffee at the town of Bulls, which, despite its attempts to capitalise on its punna-bull name, seemed rather stuck in the past. Back in the seventies when I was last in the country NZ had been a great place if a little old fashioned. Now it is still a great place but quite up market and hip; supermarkets offer if anything a better selection of goods than in the UK; tour activities are numerous, well managed and expensive, and cafes offer decent food and coffee (if not always to Corriene’s taste). But not in Bulls. The café was rather dreary, the coffee poor and the cake stodgy. And schooling seems to be optional; the waitress subtracted $13.40 from $20.50 and gave me $6.10 change. We then had a discussion about whether I should get another dollar and it was only after enlisting assistance from another staff member and a calculator that she agreed. Terri-bull.
Our accommodation in Wellington, like most of the places we have stayed, was a studio apartment with fridge and microwave. This one was spacious and also had a washing machine and tumble dryer and despite being just 15 minutes walk from the centre was very quiet. I doubt we could get that for £63 a night in England’s capital.
After a look at the not unattractive but unremarkable shopping area of Lambton Quay (the waterfront in 1840 but now 200 m inland thanks to an 1855 earthquake and land reclamation), we took a ride up the cable car – not actually what we normally think of as a cable car hanging high in the air, but a funicular railway, built to enable easy access to new developments in the hills above the centre when the city was young. At the top were good views and a museum inside the old winding house relating its history and displaying two perfectly restored old tram cars. European history here is relatively short but well documented.
Our route back took us through beautiful botanic gardens, planted on the steep hillsides that characterise Wellington, which is also noted for the windy climate that was in full swing during our visit; for the first time in months long trousers and a light jacket were needed. When other places in the country had temperatures up to 35 C, we had 22 C and gales. We had intended to visit the Te Papa Museum of New Zealand next but I was feeling tired and achey so instead we rested at the hotel and saved that visit for the next day.
We started the morning with a winding drive up to Mount Victoria lookout, site of an old signal station, views all around the city and harbour, and provider of information displays. We discovered that Wellington is the windiest city in the Southern Hemisphere – no surprise there, but even so to have 173 days a year when the average wind speed is over 60 kph is quite something. Which begs the question, despite an attractive coastline and a pleasant city centre, why does anyone want to live there?
It was then time for our postponed museum visit. This was our third one in New Zealand; the first two had been very good but this one surpassed them both. As the national museum it has had money lavished on it and the resultant displays are the best I have seen anywhere, the volcanic and tectonic plate geography brilliantly illustrated and the Gallipoli experience grippingly presented, while the Maori history is strongly represented along with the 1840 Treaty of Waitangi between the British Crown and the Maori chieftains.
180 years later there are still ongoing disputes over land claims arising from the treaty and Maoris make up 16.5% of the population but 50% of the prison inmates, so there are clearly difficulties, but the government seems to be making serious efforts to acknowledge Maori culture; everywhere information signs are in Maori as well as English and reference is constantly made to Maori legends and beliefs. The Maori experience contrasts with that of the Australian Aborigines. The latter I only saw hanging around aimlessly on street corners, making trouble or at best working in an Aboriginal cultural centre, whereas all the Maoris I came across were well integrated into mainstream society, holding down jobs and maintaining houses, both activities that appeared to be less usual for Aborigines.
We had to cut short our tour of the museum to check in on the 5.00 pm InterIslander ferry for the 3.5 hour cruise to Picton at the head of the picturesque Queen Charlotte Sound in the South Island.
Rob's Roads 