New Zealand: Auckland and Bay of Islands

On receiving the boarding cards I was pleased to see we had seats A and B - a window seat! Nice view of New Zealand as we come in to land! When we got on the plane, though, what a disappointment! Not every row on the plane had a window. A few just had a blank wall and ours was one of those. There was not much in the way of an entertainment system, either, so it was a good thing I had my kindle to hand.

Or, I could do a bit of writing, maybe - only my ink gel pen had exploded and was seeping black ink all over everything. We had to call a stewardess to bring a tissue to mop it all up. 

Although in general passengers have to pay for food and to use the entertainment system, because we had booked through Singapore Airlines, who presumably promise free food and entertainment on all their flights, we got a complimentary meal and one of the entertainment tablets. The entertainment system would not have been worth the money ($14) if we'd paid for it. They only had about 5 films, two of which I'd seen on other flights. What it did have was a rather fancy solitaire game with some quite cool graphics. I was playing that - but it would not have been worth paying fourteen dollars just to play solitaire.

Auckland

Then we had to get over the hurdle of actually getting across the New Zealand border. We thought US and Australia were bad, but New Zealand, at least on the day we arrived, was a model of inefficiency. At immigration they only had three officials on duty and at least two large planes had just arrived, meaning queuing for about 2 hours. After they'd stamped our passports, we had to queue again, for another hour, for someone to take and stamp our customs cards. Then we had to have our suitcases X-rayed but thankfully there was only a five minute queue for that, and though there was a drug dog, we weren't required to go past the dog.

It wasn't so bad for us, since we'd only come from Australia that day, but some of those poor people had probably just got off a 26 hour flight and were then faced with all that queuing. Surely they could get one person to stamp both passports and landing cards so people would only have to wait two hours and not three? And/or, if you're expecting two 747s within minutes of each other, put on a few more staff!

Another slight wait for our rental car, a Toyota Corolla, which they described as brown but it looked silver to us. Only room for one case in the boot so one had to go on the back seat. Arthur asked if I wanted to drive first, but I declined as I didn't want to have to get used to a new car in a large, unfamiliar city in a foreign country. I'm sure Arthur didn't really want the stress of being my passenger in that situation, either, if the truth be told!

We got a little lost and ended up on the wrong road - but it wasn't too hard to work out how to get to our hotel, the Sofitel Auckland, by using a map. There were no signs for a hotel car park, though, so Arthur parked at the front door and went in to ask. He returned with a nice young man named Dominic who took our car keys - there are no signs for the car park because it is valet parking.

Views from the Sofitel Auckland as darkness falls

Auckland Sky Tower by day and by night

Very swanky hotel with water features and marble floors. We were checked in by a woman with an accent we couldn't place. She was not easy to understand. I got the gist of what she was saying about using the key card to operate the lift, but Arthur didn't understand her at all and then couldn't work out why the lift wasn't going anywhere.

The hotel was one of, if not the, best we had ever stayed in. Large corner room with a view of the marina from one window and the Sky Tower from the other. There's a balcony, a sink each, a huge bath, chocolates, robes, emery boards, slippers all provided. They'd left the radio on for us. It was playing classical music and it suddenly launched into an instrumental version of God Save the Queen! Just as I was thinking they programmed the radios to play the national anthems of their guests, the presenter came on and it turned out that the tune of God Save the Queen actually is part of some symphony or other, which I never knew.

Sadly, we only had one night there - next morning we were to move on somewhere else, so there would be no chance to see any more of Auckland than the marina. No opportunity to go up the tower.

We went for a walk to find somewhere to eat on the waterfront and then came back to the hotel for a nightcap in the bar. Made full use of the very nice bath and then went to bed.

Day 12: 21 November: Auckland - Bay of Islands

A very nice breakfast. I had a sort of cold porridge with fruit, which was a lot nicer than it probably sounds. A lady came round with the "detox of the day" which was carrot juice and ginger and something else, but I've forgotten what that was. That was very nice too, a nice healthy start to the day, but then we had bacon and eggs which undid all the good work, no doubt.

After breakfast we set out. We started out on a route which included a toll tunnel, stopping at a service station to purchase the ticket. 

You have to use a machine which only takes coins, so we were trying to work out what we could buy that would give us the exact right money in change. It was only after we had bought some things we didn't really need that we found out that although it only took coins, it would give change, so we didn't need to buy stuff that would give us the exact amount in change.

Only when we'd paid the toll did we see the signs for the free, scenic route!

We were supposedly driving along a coast road, but didn't see the sea for ages. It didn't matter that much as the scenery was stunning enough even without the sea. Rolling hills and lovely trees, and of course, a LOT of sheep and cows. In the UK a field of cattle or sheep might include about a hundred animals. Here, it's more like a thousand per field. Bigger fields, of course. We stopped off at a place called Lang's Beach which was rather nice, and finally arrived at a car ferry which we had to take. It was good timing - the ferry was there waiting.

We arrived at our accommodation, Bay of Islands Cottages. It was quite rustic, a rambling garden and chickens everywhere, and a little cottage nestling among it all. There didn't seem to be any people around, but when we followed the signs to "Our Home" we found the owner, whose name was Peter, who gave us our keys.

The cottages are very nice inside - almost like a little studio flat with a spare single bed, a kitchenette equipped with crockery and a fridge, and a balcony with a lovely view of a bay. 

Bay of Islands Cottages

The view from Bay of Islands Cottage

Peter asked us what time we'd like breakfast in the morning. Our default answer was "8.30" but I suggested we should look at our itinerary as there were a number of excursions on it and it was entirely possible we'd have to be somewhere earlier than that.

I was right. We had to be somewhere that would mean leaving the cottage by 7am. In that case, Peter said, they would bring us a tray.

Russell

Arthur said we would go and look round the nearest town, a place called Russell. "It probably won't take long," he commented to Peter, which I have to admit I thought was a slightly insulting thing to say about our host's home, town even though it was likely to be quite small.

Russell is a charming little town with a few restaurants strung out along the waterfront. We saw a sign saying that booking was advisable so we went into a place called Sally's and reserved a table.

We turned out to be virtually the only customers. The food was good - I had a prawn starter followed by snapper on marmalade risotto and for dessert banana cheesecake with pokey ice cream. Pokey ice cream is a New Zealand thing, which is basically vanilla ice cream with bits of butterscotch in it.

We had a lovely view of the bay and the pier as the sun was going down, so we took some pictures, and when we had finished eating we went for a walk on the pier.

Russell Pier by day

Russell Pier by night

Returning to the cottage, we regretted not popping in to the supermarket and getting a bottle of wine to sip on our balcony, so we had a coffee instead.

I woke up in the middle of the night and heard what sounded like someone whistling outside, and creaking that sounded like footsteps. We had found that the door to our cottage didn't actually lock, or at least, we didn't have the knack of locking it, so it made me feel quite nervous - who was out there? What did they want? Were we about to be murdered in our beds by some prowling axe man? 

After a further three weeks in New Zealand, I am sure what I heard was a bird; there were certainly birds with cries that sounded like whistles and the creaking was probably the wind or the temperature changing.

I managed to convince myself I had been watching too many horror films and went back to sleep only to be woken before dawn by a cock crowing, and then again by Arthur saying "One minute". For a second I thought he was telling me that it was one minute until we had to get up, but he was actually talking to Peter, who had arrived with our breakfast tray.

Day 13: 22 November:  Scenic flight to Cape Reinga

The breakfast tray was pretty substantial with muesli, yoghurt, fresh fruit, toast and marmalade. We were to find that in many of the places we stayed, a tray brought to the room was the preferred means of serving breakfast. The tray would typically have all the above items on it plus a cooked option which we would have chosen the night before. Although at Bay of Island Cottages, that wasn't the norm, but a concession because we had to leave early.

Our itinerary gave us a choice of ways to get to our scenic flight. We could either go direct to Kirikiri airport, or we could catch the ferry at Russell to Pauhui and get a shuttle bus. We opted for the latter, since we knew exactly where the ferry stop was in Russell and how long it would take to get there, though as we sat on the ferry, which appeared to be hanging on for the trail of schoolchildren dragging their feet down the jetty, we did wonder if we'd make it in time.

When we got off the ferry, a young man walked up to us. "Julie and Arthur? I'm Daniel, I'm your pilot for the day." We had not been required to communicate which route we were going to use to get there, so it was lucky we had made that choice. Or perhaps Salt Air staff are psychic. Or perhaps nobody EVER elects to go straight to the airport.

In retelling the account of this day, Arthur is fond of saying that our pilot "looked about 14." I would have placed him at least mid 20s and possibly as old as 30, but all the same, he did look awfully young. Oh dear, I suppose that means I'm getting old - they say when policemen look young to you you're old, I guess you could say the same about airline pilots.

Our plane to Cape Reinga

Our fellow passengers were a couple from Germany and Daniel's girlfriend. Two other people were supposed to come but hadn't turned up.

We learned that the town of Kirikiri got its name because the Maori word Kiri means digging, and the Maori had observed the European settlers doing a lot of digging there.

The flight was quite bumpy. Normally, on a commercial flight, I get quite nervous about turbulence while Arthur always seems completely unconcerned. On this plane, with Daniel explaining where the bumps were coming from - usually because of air currents from a hill we were passing - and telling us that they would only last momentarily I felt relatively safe, and it was Arthur who has gone on about how scary the flight was ever since. 

I say it wasn't nearly as bad as our flight out of Innsbruck a couple of years ago when we got no explanation from the crew at any point why the plane seemed to be falling out of the sky and no apology, and no reassurance that we weren't going to hit a mountain. The main problem with this flight here, I found, was that the bumps invariably hit when I wanted to take a photograph.

The views of the coastline of the far North of New Zealand were breathtaking. We flew over the famous 90 mile beach, which isn't 90 miles long at all. It's actually about 60 but because the Australians had a beach that was supposedly 80 miles long, New Zealand wanted to go one better! 

Ninety Mile Beach

This beach is actually a state highway - one can drive one's car down it, and normal rules of the road, ie drive on the left and keep to the speed limit, apply. Much of that area isn't very accessible by road so it may be that the beach is the only road to some places. We didn't see anyone driving on it today, though.

We flew over national pine forests and on to Cape Reinga, which isn't quite the northernmost point of New Zealand but is pretty close.

Our itinerary had said that we would land on an "airstrip" which turned out to be a field. On the side of a hill. Arthur said his life flashed before him as the plane hurtled down a hill he would not be able to drive his car down.

Landing - in a field!

Waiting for us beside the airport was Joyce, a Maori lady, and her minibus, ready to take us on the ground part of the tour. Our first stop was the Cape Reinga Lighthouse, where you can look out and see where the Tasman Sea meets the Pacific Ocean. This area is said, by the Maori people, to be the launching off point of souls on their way to the spirit world. An island, just visible out to sea on a clear day, is where the departing soul gets its last drink of water on Earth before moving on.

The lighthouse at Cape Reinga

The meeting of the Pacific Ocean and the Tasman Sea

The next stop was a beach with crashing waves where we went for a walk while Joyce laid out a snack of tea and homemade peach muffins. Arthur asked the German people to take a picture of us on the beach, which they did, and we offered to return the favour. As they posed for their picture, a big wave came in behind them and they got rather wet. Arthur's photo must have captured the shock on their faces!

Us on the beach

The third stop was at the giant sand dunes, where one could, if one wanted, try sand surfing. Which is like sledging down a sand dune. Nobody fancied having a go at that so we just wandered around taking pictures.

The giant sand dunes

Joyce took us back to the field for our flight back. Less bumpy this time. Even at the airport, Daniel elected to land on the grass beside the runway as it was "easier on the plane". He assured us he hadn't missed the runway!

Views on the return flight from Cape Reinga

Lunch stop in Pauhui and caught the ferry back to Russell. The thing lurched just as I was sitting down and threw me onto the floor in a most undignified fashion. I thank my stars Arthur didn't have his camera out at that point!

Russell re-visited

Back in Russell we decided to check out the museum, only to find it was about to close. Museums in small towns tend to close at 4pm. We just about had time to pick up a leaflet about their heritage trail instead, and go for a walk around the historic spots, like the historic wharf; the Duke of Marlborough Hotel which is allegedly the first hotel to be licensed in New Zealand; the Custom House and Police Station; an old fish factory; an immigrant cottage; a church which still had musket holes in it from some long ago conflict, and the cenotaph to name but a few.

The church - one of Russell's historic buildings

According to our guide book, Russell was the site of a riot on the beach that started when two women started fighting over one of the whaling captains and all their families joined in. Perhaps that was the inspiration for the Jerry Springer Show.

Stopped off at the supermarket for a bottle of wine to drink on our balcony later.

We ate at Sally's again. Everywhere seemed much busier tonight. We got a table outside, and I think we were served by Sally herself. We learned from Peter that Sally's is where the locals tend to eat. 

Another sunset. Arthur's attempts to get a good photograph were frustrated by a child which spent ages throwing pebbles in the sea. Though a bit of human interest in a photo isn't necessarily a bad thing, I think he wanted a clear shot of the view without any people in it.

Back at the B and B we cracked open our wine and observed the night sky. I spotted Orion right away because of the belt, but Arthur couldn't see it until he realised that, just like the moon, it's upside down in the Southern hemisphere.

Day 14: 23 November: Begins in Bay of Islands 

Meeting some local celebrities

Today we had breakfast in the main house where Peter's wife Jenny had prepared some delicious pancakes with a hot berry sauce, and pastries full of alcoholic mince pie filling in addition to all the goodies we'd had on our tray. Strangely, though, no fresh eggs, which did seem odd given the number of chickens they had.

There were some other guests, who were minor celebrities as it turned out. One was a guy called Peter Latham, a photographer who produces calendars with views of New Zealand - likely he produces much more than that, but it was the calendar he had on hand to show us. He was there with an older woman called Nan who was chatty and friendly.

The other guest was called Brian and he had been, on at least one occasion, one of the professional dance coaches on New Zealand's Dancing With the Stars, which is their version of Strictly Come Dancing. He had partnered a woman named Beatrice who presumably everyone in New Zealand would have heard of, but we had no idea who she was. Brian was there to give a dancing lesson to the Russell Ballroom Dancing Club, of which Peter and Jenny are members. He does this at least once a year and always stays at the Cottages.

What is our claim to fame? We were asked. We said I was a soon to be published author, which aroused some interest as they are keen readers. Promised to let them know when the book is out.

We took to the road, stopping briefly in Russell to take a picture of the "Welcome to Russell" sign to show Arthur's former colleague whose name is Russell. 

The "Welcome to Russell" Sign

New Zealand: Matakana and Coromandel Peninsula

Matakana

We drove to Matakana, which is a small town back in the direction of Auckland, famous for its café and wine culture, the guide book said.

Tonight we stayed in Sugarloaf Lodge, another cottage type arrangement with another amazing view - sweeping fields, a forest, and some buildings, which we were to discover, was the Omaha housing estate.

Sugarloaf Lodge

The view from Sugarloaf Lodge

We were greeted by Allan, who is British, and had been living in New Zealand for 38 years, and his dog, George. They had another custom which we'd not come across in B and Bs before but which turned out to be a feature in several of them here, and that was that Allan brought us a glass of wine and some nibbles at 6pm: pre-dinner drinks. 

Pre-dinner drinks and nibbles

He told us that George would probably hang around with us for a while, and he did - hoping for some leftovers, no doubt, as he soon wandered off again when the food was all gone.

George

Then it was time for a look at the town of Matakana. It's a small place, and it only took half an hour to see everything, including a rather wacky public toilet. 

The public toilet building in Matakana

We chose a place to eat for the evening and booked a table. I think it was called the Farmhouse Kitchen or something similar. One of the places Allan had recommended.

With time to kill, we decided we'd go and check out Omaha. At first, there didn't seem to be a lot there apart from some expensive looking houses, but we did eventually find the beach where people were surfing and stopped there for a coffee.

The restaurant had forgotten all about us when we arrived to eat. Since we knew they were expecting a party of 26 we feared the worst - but they rectified it quickly and made up a table for us. We feared that the party of 26, which had already arrived and taken their seats, would mean our food would take forever to come, but there was no problem at all. You'll hear more about the party of 26 as there's quite an amazing coincidence attached to them, although for tonight they were simply there in the background. 

I had stuffed mushrooms and Thai curry and chocolate bread and butter pudding. Arthur wasn't impressed with the choice of desserts. What, only four choices?

Stargazing

We spent some more time looking at the stars. Last night we'd noticed a light in the sky that seemed to be flashing red and green, and so had assumed it was probably a plane, and then when it didn't move, decided it must be a navigation beacon of some kind. However, when we saw it again tonight in the same position relative to Orion we knew it must be a star. Out with the Night Sky iPhone app to try and figure out what is was. We think it is Sirius. Even without a telescope, you can see a lot more of the night sky out there - in London you can never see stars that seem to be flashing in different colours. I guess that is what light pollution does. There was another that looked to be twinkling blue and orange and we think that one was Pictor A.

Day 15: 24 November: Matakana - Coromandel Peninsula

Breakfast in Allan and Vanessa's home and then on to the Coromandel Peninsula, specifically a place called Cooks Beach. It was a long drive, taking us back through Auckland. We didn't take the toll road this time.

We worked out that you can attach an iPod to the car's entertainment system and listen to your own music. Since you can't get Radio 4 in New Zealand, Arthur was willing to listen to my playlists as we drove.

The next place we stayed at was The Mussell Bed, run by Chris and Paul. 

They were out when we arrived, but had left us a note telling us where our room was, so we found it, unloaded and had a quick read of the blurb in the room, which included a potted history of the Mussel Bed. 

Our room at the Mussel Bed

We went for a wander up to Cook's Beach. Our itinerary had said we were "2 minutes away" from local restaurants, but we concluded they meant 2 minutes driving rather than walking. Still, we found the beach, so named because Captain Cook once landed there.

As we were walking, we had quite a scare when an extremely loud siren started going off. WTF?? 

There had been something in the room folder about what to do if there was a tsunami and assuring us that Chris and Paul would make sure we knew what action to take in the event of one, but of course, we hadn't even seen them yet. However, Arthur had read that the tsunami warning was a continuous blast and this one was more like an air raid siren. He'd also read that they test it periodically and so this could well be a test. However, it went on, and on, and on, but when nobody else seemed to be heading for the hills, we relaxed a little.

We had noticed, in fact, a plume of smoke rising from a wooded area across the bay - Allan had told us there was a drought and a fire risk, so we wondered if it was a forest fire. As the siren finally abated, a fire engine sped past us, it's lights and siren going, heading off in that direction. We concluded that the siren's purpose was to summon the volunteer fire fighters (the smaller towns often seemed to have a volunteer fire service and Cooks Beach was pretty small) and it had to be loud and go on for a long time because the fire brigade would not have been sitting in the fire station waiting for a call - they would have been at home or at work.

It didn't seem that there was very much within walking distance so we went back to get the car. By now, our hosts had returned and we were able to meet them, get recommendations where to eat and order what we wanted on our breakfast tray in the morning. 

Arthur was determined to find the plaque commemorating Captain Cook's landing, so we followed the heritage trail until we found it.

There isn't the same kind of sweeping view at the Mussel Bed as there has been at the other places - but they do have a really lovely garden which has a river at the bottom of it. 

The Garden at the Mussel Bed

If you were so inclined, you could borrow a kayak and paddle out to the beach. It seems kayaking is a big thing in New Zealand. Several of the B and Bs that were close to water had kayaks available for any guests who cared to use them, and it was often a possible activity on the boat trips as well.

The recommended place to eat was called Eggcentric - Eggcentric by name and Eggcentric by nature; it was a quirky kind of place. We stopped there for a coffee and booked a table for the evening. The garden was full of sculptures and there was artwork for sale on the walls. When we went back in the evening the waiter was practicing the piano in between taking orders. We wondered if this was the advertised live music. The food was very good and a nice atmosphere.

Sculpture at Eggcentric

Day 16: 25 November: Cook's Beach

Leopard Cruise trip

Today was our next excursion, a boat trip with Leopard Cruises. It was run by Chris and Paul's son, Jason. We were booked on something called the "Full Monty Tour" (which meant we were on the full 2 hour trip which took in all the extra sights, not that there were male strippers on board for our entertainment). 

It seemed wherever there was a better option or some extra you could have, Beyond the Blue had booked us on it.

The tour consisted of a fast boat ride around the highlights of the coastline, including all the area's iconic rock formations, like Shakespeare Rock (Supposed to look like Shakespeare's profile and while it did resemble a man in a hat, it could have been anyone, really) and sail rock, that looks like a yacht.

The main tourist draw and iconic sight there is Cathedral Cove, where a large cave has been eroded in the cliff and right through the other side so it's possible to walk through it onto the beach. It's famous as a location in Prince Caspian so I was able to post on Facebook that evening that I'd been to Narnia!

Cathedral Cove

We also saw some local wildlife - various birds, including a heron, fish and even a penguin. 

The trees on the coast are one of two varieties which break into glorious red blossom in December; here in the North they are the Pōhutukawa, in the South they have the Rata. Because they bloom around Christmas, they are called the New Zealand Christmas tree. Of course, it was only November so they weren't in flower yet, so we wouldn't get to see them in their full glory, sadly. Although the rata were beginning to flower by the end of our trip.

Jason told us about the geology of the area - most of the rocks we saw are made from lava and pumice from a volcanic eruption 80 million years ago. The rock is relatively soft which is why it erodes into such stunning formations.

At one point he was even able to take the boat inside one of the caves.

Inside a cave

Whitianga

Boat trip over, we had three issues to sort out, all of which appeared to involve a trip to a nearby town. One, we needed petrol; two, we needed to do some laundry (we could use a washing machine at the accommodation but due to the water shortages they would charge us $15 and we reckoned it would be cheaper to use a launderette) and thirdly, as I reached in my bag for the key to lock the room this morning, I pulled out the key to the previous room in Matakana, so we had to find a post office which sold jiffy bags as well as stamps so we could send it back.

We found a small petrol station near Ferry Landing, on our side of the bay, but still needed the post office and launderette. Of course, the easiest way to get to the other town (Whitianga, which for some reason is pronounced by the locals as "Fitianga") is to get the five minute ferry across for $5, but we decided that it would be easier to drive there than lug our bags of laundry on and off the ferry and round the streets of Whitianga. It would also save us the ferry fare.

So we drove. It took an hour. We had lunch on the marina and Arthur realised he'd left his hat on the boat. However, as we were wandering around killing time waiting for the washing, we saw Jason and Paul having lunch in Subway, so we were able to tell them about the hat. Jason said he would drop it by later as it was his mother's birthday so he would be coming over anyway.

Finished our washing and drove back again. Another hour. This incident made us realise just how deceptive the distances can be. The fact that we took a two hour round trip just to do our washing has been a handy illustration of that. 

It also struck me as quite a contrast: in the morning I was in Narnia; in the afternoon I was doing my washing!

Eggcentric was closed tonight so we went to the other restaurant in Cook's Beach, a kind of fusion tapas bar. We'd called in earlier to reserve a table. Our ideal time would have been 8pm, but the guy asked if we could come earlier as they weren't expecting to be very busy. So we went at 7. An interesting selection of food, I remember, although I can't remember now exactly what I had. It was made up of sharing platters - you chose three or four and shared them. 

They were indeed not very busy. Only about one other couple there. We talked to the owner a bit and he said that there can be a lot of passing trade in high season but it wasn't high season yet. That starts nearer to Christmas and extends through January. At one point, someone came in, but not to eat - he said he'd come to wish the owner a happy birthday. No wonder he wanted to close up early if it was his birthday. So we'd met two people with the same birthday.

Day 17: 26 November: Coromandel

We had a full day at leisure to do as we pleased, and so we decided to go and see Coromandel Town. There were two ways to get there. A highway, and a road called route 309. Paul advised us that route 309 was much shorter, and mindful of yesterday when it took us two hours to get to the launderette we figured that would be the best way to go.

I was driving this morning with Arthur navigating. Route 309 turned out to be a dirt track road, barely wide enough for two cars to pass. It was steep and bendy with sheer drops down one side in places. You would not have wanted to meet one of those massive logging trucks that barrel along the highways at breakneck speeds. I expressed the opinion that they probably don't use roads like the 309, but we did come across them on some quite narrow roads - though not on the 309. We only met two or three cars all the way along, thankfully, although at one point there were pigs running about in the road.

I'm sure the time Paul said we'd save by going that way was probably eaten away by me going much slower than he probably would, because I was getting used to driving an unfamiliar car, and didn't know the road, and I tend to be somewhat cautious at the best of times. 

I did notice that when we drove back, with Arthur at the wheel, we did not return via the 309. When I looked it up in my guide book, they referred to it as "the infamous route 309"!

Coromandel Town is another small place with a heritage trail and a museum that didn't open on the day of the week we were there. There was no shortage of places to have lunch, though, and we found a nice garden to look around, and a watermill which had a museum attached, but they weren't doing tours that day. We were allowed to look around the outside of it and walk up to a viewpoint.

Watermill and museum, Coromandel Town

There was supposed to be some sort of train ride but we couldn't find it.

The recommended activity in Cooks Beach, according to our itinerary, was to visit Hot Water Beach. Hire a spade, it said, and dig yourself a hot pool. Our hosts at the Mussel Bed had spades we could borrow so we threw one in the boot. You can only do the hot pool thing at low tide, which on this particular day was at 7pm. 

The problem was that there is only a small area of the beach where the hot water rises, and with it being a summer evening the world and his dog were already there and covering pretty much all of the available space. 

The very crowded Hot Water Beach

We dug several holes which quickly filled up with cold water, and realised the only way to get the hot stuff was to dig where the sea was still coming in. Where, no sooner have you dug a tiny hole a wave comes along and destroys it. We discovered that you can experience the hot water springs simply by walking on that part of the beach, and, in fact, were it not for the waves coming in and cooling it off you'd soon burn your feet.

Arthur concluded that, if you got there early enough before most of the masses and dug ditches connecting your hot pool with the incoming seawater you could construct a pretty good hot pool, but we had neither the space nor the time to do that, so we gave up.

Went back to the Mussel Bed and made sure we returned the spade as it would have been a real pain to have to post that on from the next place.

We remembered to wish Chris a happy birthday and she brought us a piece of her birthday cake, a carrot cake with icing, very yummy.

It was busier everywhere tonight. More guests had arrived at the B and B and Eggcentric, where we decided to eat again tonight, was also much busier. Whereas before we'd been the only people there, tonight we walked in and found three tables already occupied. Two of the couples were already chatting to each other and we clocked their British accents.

We had another nice meal. One of the English couples paid up and left. Then it started to rain, to pour down in fact. We were sitting under a canopy roof and it was raining so hard that there were waterfalls coming off it.

It was at this point that the other English people started to engage us in conversation. Were we getting wet? No, we said, but at least here the rain is warm.

Typical Brits, all of us - only get talking when there's weather to discuss! It turned out that they, as well as the people who'd already left, were staying at the Mussel Bed, too. Though that wasn't so much of a coincidence since there weren't that many restaurants in town and the proprietors of the Mussel Bed recommended Eggscentric quite highly. Anyway, these people had been given a lift to the restaurant, we presume by Chris or Paul, and they were going to need to arrange their lift back. Since we all finished our meal at the same time and were going back to the same place, it made perfect sense for us to bring them in our car. We found they had a similar itinerary to us, although they were with a different travel company. Perhaps, I thought, we'll meet them again.

New Zealand: Matamata and Rotorua

Day 18: 27 November: Rotorua via Matamata

Hobbiton

A deviation from our given itinerary today. We went off the suggested route in order to visit Matamata, which is where Hobbiton is. In the town itself, the only sign that it has anything to do with Lord of the Rings is the half-built tourist information centre in the shape of a hobbit house. To get to Hobbiton, you have to take a tour.

I thought that the price of $75 per person would put Arthur off, but Hobbiton is not to be missed, no matter what the price. 

Once paid up, they give you directions to the Shire's Rest, where the tour begins. It's a touristy spot with a café and gift shop. I'd feared that we'd be driven around it in a bus and forbidden from taking pictures, but it is a guided walking tour and you can take as many pictures as your camera's battery life will allow. 

Our guide was a young man called Christy. It was his summer job before going off to uni. All the students want to work at Hobbiton - it's seen as a really cool summer job.

We learned a lot about how they made the films and the sheer lengths they went to in order to get just the right look for Middle Earth. For example, there is supposed to be an oak tree above Bag End but you don't get oak trees in New Zealand. At one point Sir Peter Jackson was considering having all the leaves ripped off another tree and false oak leaves glued on, but someone must have protested against cruelty to trees, and so they made an oak tree out of silicon instead, and each leaf was hand made, painted twice and individually glued on. From a distance it is virtually indistinguishable from a real tree, although when the wind blows its movement doesn't look quite natural.

The hills around the location belong to a sheep farmer, and since Sir Peter didn't think the sheep he had on the farm looked quite right, they had to be rounded up and hidden away while a load of sheep that Sir Peter believed looked the part were shipped over from Britain. Arthur commented that this was some feat given that us ordinary people can't even bring a single apple into New Zealand, yet Sir Peter Jackson can bring in a whole flock of sheep! I suppose if you have as much money as Sir Peter Jackson you can do almost anything. 

The lichen on the fences isn't real, either. It's made of paint, paper and yoghurt. The yoghurt was added to encourage growth of real lichens in due course. It was someone's job to go and paint all the fences with this stuff.

Sir Peter also insisted that the lines of hobbit washing were put out every day and taken in every night, so that a natural path would be worn up to the washing lines.

Not all the hobbit holes on the site were in the films. A number of extra ones were built "in case" but they weren't needed in the end.

The doors of the hobbit holes open, but there is nothing inside them - the interior scenes were all filmed in a studio in Wellington.

The hobbit holes vary in size - full size so that human actors playing hobbits look the right size in them, and smaller ones so that human actors playing humans can walk past and look bigger.

A Hobbit hole

One reason why this particular location was chosen was because it had an enormous symmetrical tree which was perfect as the Party Tree.

The Party Tree

Also on the site is the replica of the Green Dragon Pub which isn't in Hobbiton but somewhere else, as Arthur was quick to point out when I posted on Facebook that Arthur's birthday drink this year was at the Green Dragon in Hobbiton, and where was everybody? The tour ends with a drink there, beer, cider or a soft drink.

Arthur's birthday drink in the Green Dragon

The bar of the Green Dragon

The Green Dragon

Hobbiton even has a resident cat, called Pickle. 

Pickle, Hobbiton's resident cat

Of course, our deviation from the planned route meant that we were not on the road into Rotorua that we were supposed to be on and so the directions on the itinerary were therefore rendered useless, so it took us a while to find The Lake House, our next stop.

The Lake House is owned by Ken and Carol from Wolverhampton, and they made us very welcome. Carol is a talented artist - she had painted a number of the paintings on the walls. The room was in the house rather than the cottage arrangement we were becoming accustomed to. 

The room had patio doors which opened onto their garden, and at the bottom of their garden was a lake with a small island in it (again, there were kayaks you could borrow to go paddling on the lake). They even had their own little beach. 

The Lake House

View from the Lake House

The bottom of the garden at The Lake House

However, the bottom of their garden is a right of way so anyone can walk through. 

There was a lemon tree with lemons on it and a spa with a hot tub - the first one I've seen where you don't have to endure minus forty degree temperatures in order to get in and out of it! We didn't think there would be time to take advantage of that, though as there was quite a lot planned for us in Rotorua.

Lemon tree

We enjoyed a cup of tea and warm, homemade banana muffins with our hosts in their plush lounge and got their advice on where we could go and eat later.

Rotorua is a larger place so lots of choice of places to eat. We wandered around for a bit and eventually chose the Indian Star and had a curry.

Day 19: 28 November: Rotorua

Today we were supposed to be picked up by a seaplane at the bottom of the garden for a scenic flight, but it got cancelled because of the weather, which was a shame.

Lady Knox Geyser and Wai-O-Tapu Thermal Wonderland

Still, there were plenty of other things to do. Once we knew the flight was off, Ken and Carol suggested we went to the Wai-O-Tapu Thermal Park, where you can walk around and view all the volcanic features. 

There is a geyser there called the Lady Knox Geyser that goes off at 10.15 every day, and if we got a move on we could just about get there in time to see that.

We rushed and got there, and learned that the geyser doesn't go off on its own at such a regular time each day - it's all staged. It was discovered, we were told, when some Maori women were doing their laundry in the hot springs, and the detergent they were using triggered an eruption, much to their great surprise! So at 10.15 each day a man gives a talk about the history and points out the distinction between a geyser and a geezer, and then pours in some detergent to make the thing go off.

Lady Knox Geyser

After that, there is a walk you can do around the park to see and photograph features such as the Champagne Pool, the Rainbow Crater (which is not quite as colourful as its name suggests), the Artist's Pallette (ditto, but still interesting), Bridal Veil Falls and the Devil's Bath (a pool of lurid yellow water).

A volcanic crater

The Devil's Bath

The Champagne Pool

The Artist's Pallette

Rotorua is essentially sitting on top of an active volcano and is known for its hot springs. Even in the centre of town you can see steam coming up from patches of green and from the drains, and often you get a whiff of rotten eggs as you're driving around. Strange place to build a town, but it doesn't seem to bother any of the residents.

The volcano erupted in 1886, and destroyed a popular feature which we understand may have been a bit like Pamukkule in Turkey.

It was raining on and off as we were walking around and there was a cloudburst just as we were walking back to the car to go and see the mud pools, a pond full of what appears to be boiling mud.

It was all fascinating to see, and we wouldn't have done it if the flight had gone ahead as planned, as tomorrow we would have been moving on to the next place.

After lunch in a nice Italian café in town, we went back to the Lake House and made use of the hot tub before having tea and lemon muffins with our hosts.

In the evening we were booked in for an evening of Maori culture and a traditional meal. Luckily this was something that didn't depend on the weather.

Maori evening

I'd been looking forward to learning about Maori culture, because I didn't know much about it really; I think Arthur was a little unsure as the local "cultural experience" evenings in some places we've been in the past have not been to his taste. However, this one was done very well and we really enjoyed it.

We were picked up from the Lake House by a lady with a minibus. Her name sounded to me like "Deer's Rains". We were first to be picked up and she said she had two more stops. At the first, we picked up another German couple, called Matthew and Claudia. New Zealand seems to be a very popular destination for people from Germany.

Then we drove around for a while and at the next stop, who should get on but the couple we met in Eggscentric the other night!

At the Maori village, were were taken into a large marquee which could house a large wedding reception, and assigned to our tables. Matthew and Claudia were sitting with us, but the others were a few tables away. There was a bar, and an elderly gentleman was playing Abba tunes on a saxophone! Very traditional, I'm sure! I went to the bar and got a bottle of wine.

There was a compère who kicked things off by asking where everybody had come from, and doing a running tally of how many nations were represented. All the usual suspects - England, Scotland (though nobody from Ireland, it seemed), US, Australia, Germany, Holland, France; there was a large party from Auckland, and a few less likely places like Brazil, Bolivia and North Korea and someone even claimed to have come from Iraq. Others had come from various Pacific islands, and counting each one of those as a separate nation, the total came to 23.

The compère was very gifted with languages. He spoke all the main ones, English, German, French, Spanish, Dutch - at least he knew "welcome" and "chocolate cake" in all of the languages. When it came to Scotland he said "Och aye the noo" and "It's a braw, bricht, moonlit nicht", and gave even the obscure places his best shot at a greeting and a cultural reference.

After the introductions, were were all taken outside for a traditional unveiling of the meal, or hangi. The meat and potatoes (ordinary and the traditional Maori sweet potato) had been cooking all day, along with stuffing "for the English". It was all covered with cloth and there was a ceremonial unveiling. 

The Maori feast unveiled

After that we were taken to see a Maori canoe, about the length of a bus, and given a little talk on the canoes. Then we all went down to the river where a bunch of young men in full Maori warrior gear rowed a canoe past the audience, chanting a war chant as they went. That was impressive.

Maori warriors in their canoe

Then we went to see the show (so our white wine was not going to be chilled anymore by the time we got back to it). There was a stage, which had no back wall and was open to the outdoors, where a construction of a Maori village had been built complete with several straw hits, a totem pole and a cooking fire. As we were taking our seats, men and women in costume were walking around on stage, as if going about their daily business. 

Maori village

The compère was on stage with two members of the audience who had been selected to represent the audience, or "the tribe of many nations", and to receive a formal welcome from the Maori Chief on stage as they would have greeted friendly visitors in years gone by.

There were demonstrations of dances, games of skill the Maori children would play, such as jumping over sticks, which actually prepared them for having to run about in the forests, dodging the roots of trees. The women were swinging things that looked like white balls on the end of ropes, not unlike giant "clackers" for those who remember the 70s toy. They could make sounds with them like galloping horses or even a train.

The Chief, a guy possibly in his 40s, wearing very little apart from tattoos on his bottom and legs, and a loin cloth, gave a welcome speech in Maori and then a chat in English about Maori history. He explained how they used to do the tattoos, using a chisel, and opening the healing scars up several times which sounded really painful. However, the skills for doing that have largely been lost so nowadays they are done with a needle like any other tattoo.

Maori warrior

They sang some songs, and of course, did a Haka. They told us that every tribe had its own Haka, and there were different ones for different occasions, such as when a new Chief was inaugurated. Later in the holiday someone we met on one of our excursions said that this was the sanitised version of what the Haka was and that the actions and movements were indeed very warlike and represented what the warrior was going to do to his enemy, and after that what he was going to do to their women!

Back to the show, and the two selected audience members were required to say something in response to the Chief's greeting. One of the two was from Nigeria and was able to say some words in Nigerian that his own tribe would have used in such circumstances. They were very impressed by that.

When we got back the food had been laid out buffet style with sides and salads as well. The food was plain but delicious, with a slightly smoky flavour. The potatoes were especially nice. Possibly some of the nicest potatoes I've ever eaten.

When we first arrived, some people, including us, had been given orange stickers, and we weren't quite sure what they meant. It turned out that those with the stickers had booked, or been booked on, a wildlife walk with a guide through a nature park. As I said, if there were any extras to be had, Beyond the Blue had added them for us.

Our guide, Gene, first took us to a pool which was very clear, and had water bubbling into it from the volcanic springs, and some fish. The he turned out all the lights so we could see the glow worms around the edge of the pool.

We learned all about the kiwi bird. Unlike any other bird, the kiwi's nostrils are at the end of its beak and not at the top. This means it can sniff out the grubs and the things in the soil that it eats. The long beak can detect vibrations as well, which also helps it find food.

The females are bigger than the males, and that is because they lay huge (in proportion to their body size) eggs. The female kiwi lays an egg that is one third her body weight. In fact, she generally lays two in a clutch. That is the equivalent, said Gene, of a human woman giving birth to a four year old child. Once she'd laid her eggs, the female abandons them so the male hatches them, but then he clears off as well and the chicks have to fend for themselves from day one. 

That is one reason why they are so endangered now, because all the animals the various settlers introduced would prey on them. Stoats, for example, were brought over to keep the rabbit population down, but the stoats quickly learned that a defenceless kiwi chick was a much easier meal than a fast moving rabbit.

So it is very rare to see a kiwi in the wild and most New Zealanders have probably never seen one.

We were taken into an enclosure where there were kiwis. They were still hard to see, even when you knew they were there, but I did spot one. We were told not to take photographs, even without a flash, because these birds are apparently so shy that if someone takes their picture they go off their food for weeks.

After than we walked through another aviary, where there must have been parrots. We couldn't see them, but as we entered, we heard them say "Hello!" and as we came out the other end, we heard, "'Bye!"

Gene showed us a bird called a Jenny Rua which is more common in the South Island. This particular one had been hand reared by a human male and had imprinted on him to the extent that when they tried to breed her, she rejected all the males of her own kind so violently that she now has to live in isolation.

We saw lizards who have evolved so that the adults come out by day but the juveniles are nocturnal - because if the two ever met, the adults would eat the young ones.

Day 20: 29 November: Rotorua

Seaplane flight

We'd re-booked the seaplane flight for today in the hope the weather would have improved. Carol and Ken were optimistic that it would happen today. They were telling us that several of the pilots had children. To be fair, this was relevant because that's how their daughter knew them, but I couldn't help thinking, I don't need to know whether they have children. I just want to know if they can fly a plane!

There was no phone call, as there had been yesterday, to say it was off, so I went to the bottom of the garden to look out for the seaplane. 

Sure enough, it arrived and taxied right up to the shore. Carol and Ken had joked that we'd have to swim out to it, but thankfully that wasn't the case. The pilot, Angela, jumped out and pulled the plane even closer to the beach. (She was one of the ones with children, and I can vouch for the fact that she could fly the plane, too.) All we had to do was step up onto the floats and from there it was a couple of steps up into the plane.

The sea plane arrives at The Lake House

A couple from Hungary were already on board. They didn't speak English so we couldn't talk to them much.

Take off was quite bumpy but once airborne it was less bumpy than the first flight. We flew over Rotorua International Airport, which qualifies as an international airport because it has two flights a week to Sydney.

Rotorua International Airport

We flew over Rotorua and over some beautiful lakes and up to the crater of the volcano that erupted in 1886. In the distance we could see the White Island, which is the currently active volcano, smoking away out at sea.

Rotorua from the air

A view from the sea plane

Volcanic crater from the air

We returned to the lake and took pictures of the Lake House from the air while Carol was taking pictures of us getting off the plane, so we could later swap pictures by email.

Getting off the seaplane

After watching the plane take off again we set off for Napier. This was a fairly long drive and we'd been warned that there was a long stretch with no petrol stations and no mobile reception, so it was advisable to fill up first. 

Ken told us which was the cheapest petrol station and also recommended a stop at Huka Falls.

Huka Falls

Huka falls is a stretch of river where turquoise water rushes through a narrow gully. A horizontal waterfall, Ken called it. It was certainly worth a stop there to take pictures and listen and watch the power of the water. 

Huka Falls