Perth

Day 6: 14 November:  Singapore - Perth

Had to get up at stupid o'clock in order to catch the plane. Too early for breakfast at the hotel so we had to find something at the airport. In the terminal we were at there was very little choice of places to eat. The choice was a Chinese breakfast or Burger King. Surprising that an international hub the size of Changi airport couldn't come up with any more than that.

The flight was fairly uneventful although the plane seemed to be flying through thick cloud for about an hour after take off, which made me a little nervous - usually they clear any cloud within five or ten minutes. Was something wrong, or was the cloud extending much higher up into the sky than in most places? There were general knowledge quizzes on the entertainment system; doing those took my mind off wondering when we were going to break through the cloud, and passed the time once we were up in the sunshine.

The final approach to Perth was quite bumpy as it was windy and I was reminded of last time I flew into Perth and the landing was aborted. Either it wasn't as bad or this pilot was more confident landing in wind - we got down on the first attempt with no problems.

Perth

Arthur's aunt and uncle, Teresa and Paddy met us at the airport and drove us to their house. They live in a district called Como, which is near to Perth zoo (although we didn't have time to visit the zoo). Our room overlooks the communal pool for their block.

It seemed that we did nothing but eat and drink from the moment we arrived until we went to bed, with just a short break from stuffing our faces to go and meet Arthur's cousin Jasmine who was arriving on the ferry. Jasmine's husband Vincent arrived with loads of food for the evening - olives, pate, salami, soft cheese. Theresa provided prawns, barbecued ribs, vegetables and rice. Yet somehow we didn't feel too full, just nicely satisfied.

Ashleigh, Jasmine's sister, came along too, and was telling us a bit about her work as a vet. Someone had brought in an injured fox cub they had found, but it had to be put down. I thought that was sad, but I got the impression that people in Australia are not that fond of foxes.

It was lovely to see them all again, and to be able to sit outside on a balmy evening enjoying a leisurely meal with everyone.

Day 7: 15 November: Perth

Paddy and Teresa like to get up at 5.30 and go cycling, and Paddy talked Arthur into doing the same. I'm still not confident cycling and would have been scared of falling off an unfamiliar bike and making a twit of myself in front of our hosts, or not being able to get up the hills, or getting run over. They only had two bikes anyway, which meant Teresa couldn't go either. 5.30 seems terribly early given that we don't usually get up till 8am at home, but the jet lag meant that we were waking up that early anyway. 

Places around Perth

We went for a drive to a place called Mandura which had a market which sold art and crystals and where you could get a tarot reading. Arthur was quick to point out that I could get an Australian tarot reading, but I didn't do it. Teresa bought a painting of a bird.

We went to Rockingham, where, they said, you could get a boat trip to an island but nobody wanted to, because the reason for going was to see the baby penguins and it wasn't the season for them.

Everyone here is very vigilant about wearing hats and sunscreen and insisting that we do the same, and warning us about remembering to apply sunscreen to the tops of our feet. It's supposed to be 37 degrees today, we were told.

Because they get up so early, Paddy and Teresa nap every afternoon and Arthur is only too happy to join them. They all seemed quite amazed that I didn't want to sleep as well, and preferred to use the afternoon to write my journal and read instead. And ogle a couple of tanned young men using the pool below the bedroom window!

Sunset beach

As a thank you for accommodating us, we took Paddy and Teresa out for a meal, but first of all we drove over to a place called Cottesloe, which has a west-facing beach and is the spot in the area to watch the sun go down. There were lots of people there doing just that - groups of students who were celebrating the end of their exams, romantic couples and photographers. We took lots of pictures, of course.

Sunset at Cottesloe

Me with Teresa and Paddy

Ashleigh and Jasmine had recommended a place to eat but when we got there we saw it was full to the brim with noisy "schoolies" (school leavers - in Australia it is the end of the school year in December, and the exams are in November, so those who are taking exams are pretty much free now until January, and they're in the mood for some exuberant celebrations) and so we decided to find somewhere else. 

A short drive away there was a quieter hotel bar where we could have a pre-dinner drink, and then we chose to eat in a restaurant called Barque. The two waitresses who served us were from Belgium and Norway. The food was excellent there; and so was the wine, and we ended up having three bottles of the stuff!

Day 8; 16 November:  Perth

Woke up regretting that third bottle of wine. Paddy had knocked on our door before 6am to get Arthur to go cycling with him but we didn't hear him, so he went on his own. 

Teresa drove us down to the coffee shop where Paddy and his cycling buddies usually stop for refreshments after their ride. We met Kevin and Lester: Kevin is a New Zealander and was telling us some good places to go in Queenstown.

"Freo"

We decided that we would leave Paddy and Teresa in peace for the day and catch the ferry down to Fremantle, known to the locals as "Freo". It was a sunny, hot day, a good day to be out on the water. The running commentary they broadcast on the boat pointed out all the largest and most expensive properties, most of which belonged to business tycoons who were no doubt well known to the Australians but I had never heard of any of them. Mostly, it seems, they made their fortunes from mining.

Fremantle

We got off the ferry and, after watching a gigantic container ship being guided in by the tugs, went in search of something to eat. 

Main Street sounded like the place where all the cafés and bars would be, but it turned out to be as deserted as the City of London on a Saturday. 

Eventually we found an Indian restaurant - the sort of place we'd eat at in the evenings at home, and we really only wanted a snack, but it looked like there might not be anything else open. We were the only customers, so the staff were very attentive. We had the full attention of two waiters, a black guy and a guy in a turban and even the chef came out - we could tell he was the chef because he was wearing chequered pants and his hands were stained orange with spices.

Arthur ordered a rice dish, I went for a main course without a starter, which didn't come with rice so I ordered rice as well - so we had far too much rice. Not bad food, it filled a gap, and it was cool in there with a nice loo. Only after we came out did we turn a corner and find all the cafés where we could have got a coffee and a sandwich. Apparently Market Street, not Main Street, is the place to be!

Following the recommendations we'd been given, we went and looked at the Round House, a museum which used to be a prison. The exhibit we found particularly interesting and amusing there was a series of letters written by the captain of a merchant ship that docked in Fremantle in 1892. He'd written about 10 letters over a period of about 6 weeks, all of them complaining bitterly about Fremantle: the weather was awful, the docking facilities were not suitable and his ship got damaged, the workers were lazy and stole things and absconded to go and work in the mines and so on and so on. In his last letter he wrote, "A curse on Fremantle and every son of a bitch in it", and stated categorically that he would never return. Although he'd stopped short of saying "I Quit!".

Outside, an elaborate flag pole was flying numerous flags - the Australian flag, the Fremantle flag, the Aborigine flag - with a space reserved for flying the national flag of any incoming vessel. As the ship arrives, their national flag is raised and lowered after 10 minutes. Every port used to do this as a courtesy but Fremantle is the only place that continues the practice to this day.

Flagpole

We then found a gallery which had an exhibition of photographs of elderly residents of the town, and beside each photo was a piece of writing telling the life story of each person, where they came from, why they ended up in Fremantle, what they did for a living, what their passions were.

Paddy and Teresa came and picked us up and on the way back took a small detour to the streets with the most jacaranda trees. I'd been noticing these lovely trees all over the place as we were driving around and hoped I would get a chance to photograph one. They were all in flower while we were there, bright lilac flowers, and there was this one street which had loads of them.

Jacaranda trees

We had a quiet night in and ate Teresa's delicious chicken casserole with mashed potatoes and roasted courgettes.

While Paddy did the dishes the rest of us went for a walk by the river, and out along a disused jetty; well, disused as a jetty, anyway - it's a popular spot for anglers and there were quite a few people out there fishing. It was lovely and cool there, a relief from the hot stickiness and 37 degree temperatures. The city lights twinkling in the distance, the lapping waves and a full moon. I was surprised there weren't more couples out for a romantic stroll, as well as the fishermen and people walking their dogs.

Day 9: 17 November:  Perth

Quinn's Rock

Despite our insistence that we would be perfectly happy to use the train, Paddy and Teresa insisted on driving us to Quinn's Rock where my cousin Debbie and her husband Mitch live. 

Quinn's Rock is quite a way out of Perth and a fair distance beyond where the commuter trains stop. We found Debbie's address without too much trouble and the two families met over a cup of tea, and then Paddy and Teresa left us as they had a play to go to that afternoon.

Debbie's son Richard is now in Australia too, working in IT. Apparently he'd applied for a work permit and then procrastinated until there was a last minute rush for him to get there before it expired. He made it - just.

Originally we had planned to visit a nearby national park, but it turned out there was a big event on, so it would have been extremely crowded. Instead we went to a nearby marina where there were shops and places to eat. We sat down for drinks and lunch, and who should walk around the corner but Paddy and Teresa, who had decided to go for a walk before returning home. They had another drink with us before they left. They had just been saying, wouldn't it be funny if we met up with them again - and then they did! 

Near Quinn's Rock
Left to right: Debbie, Mitch, Richard, Teresa, Paddy, Me

That was the first of many coincidences on this trip. There were some even more amazing ones on the New Zealand leg.

After we'd eaten we moved on to a place called Hillary's - a similar sort of place but bigger and busier and more commercial. There was one bar which was heaving, and none of the restaurants would serve drinks without food. We finally got a table in the bar and had another drink before going back.

Mitch fired up their barbecue, which is the size of our oven at home, and made an evening meal of burgers and sausages and salad, but none of us could really do it justice because we'd had such a massive lunch.

They drove us to the nearest station and pointed out the really good Indian restaurant it had taken them six years to find. 

Debbie came in to help us negotiate the ticket machine. Buying transport tickets for any form of transport here seems a lot more complicated and prone to problems than in Singapore. The ticket machine we'd tried to use at the ferry stop yesterday didn't seem to work properly - which the local alcoholics and beggars tried to take advantage of by coming over and offering to help and then asking for money - and then it turned out you could purchase tickets on the ferry itself, anyway.

Even with a local to help us at the train station, we must have looked confused as a strange, skinny young man, aged about 13 with blond curly hair and acne, came over and offered advice. He caught the same train as us and was walking up and down the carriages asking people for money - but since he'd seen us put all of our change in the ticket machine, he didn't hassle us, and just passed by with a smile. At one point the ticket inspectors got on (they work at 8pm on a Sunday there, it seems). They had a serious conversation with the young man but didn't make him get off. I wondered if someone had reported him begging or whether they were purely and simply checking tickets. Debbie sent a message later saying she hoped we got home OK - she was a little concerned about this kid because he was so odd, and had watched to make sure he left us alone.

The train took us into central Perth where we enjoyed the Christmas lights while waiting for our lift home. One large building had a slide show projected onto it which changed every few minutes.

Christmas lights in Perth

We ended the day watching a documentary about the history of the Australian wine industry (apparently in the 70s there was a wine called Kanga-rouge!).

Day 10: 18 November:  Perth - Melbourne

Spent the morning packing. Ashleigh came to drive us to the airport for our Melbourne flight, with Virgin Australia. Arthur, convinced we'd have to pay for food on the plane (Virgin Australia being a budget airline) insisted on buying sandwiches for the flight. But there was food included, so the sandwiches were superfluous and had to go in the bin. 

This plane had a couple of interesting features I'd not come across before. As well as the usual map showing the progress of the plane and the places it's flying over, and how long it is till you get where you're going, on this one you could also look at a "pilot's view cam" and a "down cam". However, most of the time the down cam was just showing turquoise sludge and the pilot's view a grey blur. It was a bright sunny day and I certainly hoped the actual pilot had a better view than the camera was giving us! Looking again as we were coming in to land, you could suddenly see things on the down cam - roads and things, and the horizon on the pilot's view, then scenery, and on the final approach you could make out the runway and a good view of what the pilot could see as we taxied to the gate. So for most of the flight it's pretty rubbish but worth looking at during landing.

Melbourne

Both of us have friends living in or around Melbourne at the moment, who we wanted to see. However, the day before we left England Arthur got an e-mail from his Melbourne friend, to say that he was going to be in Europe for a few days and did Arthur fancy going out for a beer? That really is Sod's Law in action, but we did manage to connect with my friend, Bee.

Our hotel was in the middle of a pedestrian shopping mall so the taxi couldn't take us right to the door. It wasn't as salubrious as the hotels in Singapore, but then, hotels in Singapore generally are of an extremely high standard. To get to our room it was necessary to take two lifts and walk through the breakfast room which resembled a staff canteen more than a restaurant. Although breakfast was included, it was a cold buffet which as far as Arthur is concerned, doesn't count as breakfast. I guessed we'd be eating breakfast out.

When we got to the room he complained he could smell a dead rat and actually went around the room looking for one. I did notice a faint smell, but I would have said it was a drain problem rather than a dead rat. There was no deceased rat anywhere in the room, I'm glad to say, so it probably was just the drains.

We didn't spend long in the room because my friend Bee had called me to say that she was sitting on a bench outside the hotel, so we just dumped our stuff and went to meet her. She'd been showing her artwork in an exhibition and was loaded down with things she was taking home. We found a Chinese restaurant that Bee liked and had a lovely meal and a catch up.

Me and Bee

Day 11: 19 November:  Melbourne

Day at leisure in Melbourne. Started with breakfast in a little café beside the hotel and then a trip to the shops to find a charging adapter. Arthur had assumed that, because Australia was originally British, it would, like Singapore, use UK style sockets - but it doesn't. That wasn't a problem in Perth because Paddy and Teresa had one we could use, but now we were on our own and needed to find one. Luckily we did, otherwise we would have to spend three and a half weeks without our phones, ipad, ipod, laptop, kindles and cameras. That would have been a disaster.

We basically had just one day to spend in Melbourne. We had been told the immigration museum was good so we went there and learned all about the history of immigration to Australia. 

Some sort of recruitment drive?

We had lunch in an Italian place on Federation Square. There is a very large screen there which was quite dominating. Great for events, but on this day it was broadcasting the speeches from some tedious political conference. However, once that had finished, we found it was broadcasting a live feed from the square so we had a bit of fun trying to spot ourselves on it.

Federation Square, Melbourne

Can you spot us on the big screen?

Getting arrested

After lunch we followed up on another recommendation we'd been given - the old Melbourne prison, the one in which Ned Kelly was held. There were two parts to this, firstly the prison museum in which you can learn about the various prisoners that had been executed there - exhibits in each cell told their stories, next to a display case containing their death mask. Kind of gruesome. 

You could learn about how they hanged people - also quite gruesome, and about the lives of female prisoners, who were mostly in there for baby farming, which seemed to mean they were the child minders from hell. 

Plenty of scope for ghost stories here.

The second part was called the Watch-House Experience, which was a tour of the old police cells, and in which you got "arrested". Everyone taking the tour had to line up against the wall, men on one side and women on the other while being lectured by an "officer" (tour guide). 

Some people were given cards with scenarios on them to give an idea of the kind of things people got arrested for. Arthur was one of these people, his story was he'd been arrested for assault! 

Then in groups of six we were put into cells and the lights turned off for five minutes or so, before they let us all out and let us look around the exercise yard and at the padded cell and take our own mugshots.

Prisoner Cell Block H

Melbourne Jail

Having escaped from jail (no need to contact Prisoners Abroad on this occasion) we walked to Lygon Street where there is a considerable choice of places to eat, and we chose an Italian place. We came across a bar called the Charles Dickens which was done out like an English pub and had a glass of wine.

That, sadly, was all we had time to do in Melbourne. 

Day 11: 20 November:  Melbourne - Auckland

Another stupid o'clock start to catch a plane. Very friendly taxi driver who was from the Balkans although the combination of the East European and Aussie accents made him sound South African. Had a nice chat with him although it was a bit disconcerting when he had to stop the car twice on the hard shoulder because there was something wrong with it. It was booked in for a service later that morning - but for now we hoped it would keep going for long enough to get us to the airport in time! Thankfully, it did.

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