Nice campsite but completely over-run with mosquitoes. We'd spent 20 minutes swatting the little twats before lights out last night so were gutted to find a gang inside the van when we woke up. I'm sure they were winking at us, dabbing the corners of their blood-soaked mouths with little napkins. Our worst fears were confirmed when we held a bite count: Dave 19 Wend 12.
God, I hate mosquitoes.
Quickly forgotten though when Wend spotted a pod of Dolphins splashing about just off the beach.
Now Dolphins, I like.
Friday, December 15, 2006
Day 61. Tapotupotu Bay, Cape Reinga. Downwardly mobile.
Busy day today. We were up with New Zealand's equivalent of a lark for the 3 hour trip to Cape Reinga at the northernmost tip of the country.
It was a dull old journey and I was just telling Wend we'd made a mistake traipsing so damned far when we saw a sign for 'Giant Sand Dunes'. This perked us up no end, especially when we spotted an enterprising hippy renting sand surfboards. We paid our three quid, and after 15 seconds of comprehensive tuition were clambering up our first Dune.
These things really did live up to their billing. Absolute monsters up to 170 feet high made entirely of fine golden sand, which looks great, but makes them a real bugger to climb. Worth the effort though for the white-knuckle craziness on the way down.
We then visited the lighthouse at the top of the peninsula. Directly below is where the Tasman Sea meets the Pacific Ocean, generating waves up to 10 metres high in stormy weather, but as calm as a village pond today.
Another site sacred to the Maoris, visitors are asked to be respectful and refrain form eating and drinking on the headland.
I think we spotted a couple of Maori Chieftains who had special dispensation - either that, or they were fat tourists who couldn't resist their lard sandwiches until they'd driven from the site. Morons.
Great beaches near the lighthouse too, and because most of the afore-mentioned fatties are too lazy to walk further than 5 minutes from their cars, it was possible to enjoy some skinny-dipping without fear of offending a porker.
Camped on a nearby Department of Conservation site. A bargain at a fiver a night.
It was a dull old journey and I was just telling Wend we'd made a mistake traipsing so damned far when we saw a sign for 'Giant Sand Dunes'. This perked us up no end, especially when we spotted an enterprising hippy renting sand surfboards. We paid our three quid, and after 15 seconds of comprehensive tuition were clambering up our first Dune.
These things really did live up to their billing. Absolute monsters up to 170 feet high made entirely of fine golden sand, which looks great, but makes them a real bugger to climb. Worth the effort though for the white-knuckle craziness on the way down.
We then visited the lighthouse at the top of the peninsula. Directly below is where the Tasman Sea meets the Pacific Ocean, generating waves up to 10 metres high in stormy weather, but as calm as a village pond today.
Another site sacred to the Maoris, visitors are asked to be respectful and refrain form eating and drinking on the headland.
I think we spotted a couple of Maori Chieftains who had special dispensation - either that, or they were fat tourists who couldn't resist their lard sandwiches until they'd driven from the site. Morons.
Great beaches near the lighthouse too, and because most of the afore-mentioned fatties are too lazy to walk further than 5 minutes from their cars, it was possible to enjoy some skinny-dipping without fear of offending a porker.
Camped on a nearby Department of Conservation site. A bargain at a fiver a night.
Day 60. Whatuwhiwhi via Whangaroa. Myth 'n' Chips
Up early as we wanted to break our journey with a walk around Whangaroa Harbour.
Now a deep-sea fishing base, this was the scene of a massacre in 1809 when Maoris killed several crew members of HMS Boyd who'd come ashore. They then donned the sailors' clothing and boarded the ship attacking the remaining crew. A barrel of gunpowder exploded and the ship was burned to the waterline.
Or at least that's what I read in one of our guide-books.
Personally, I don't buy it. For a start, the Maoris would have been sporting their distinctive facial tattoos, which crewman's clothing isn't going to do much of a job of hiding. But more importantly, I'm yet to see a Maori who doesn't tip the scales at under 18 stone, so unless the outfits were fashioned from Spandex they'd have struggled terribly to get into the trousers.
Great walk though. We ended up on top of St.Pauls Rock high above the Harbour with exceptional views over the northern stretch of The Bay of Islands.
Stopped for a magnificent plate of Fish and Chips on the waterfront at Mangonui. Cooked to order, and to perfection. No vinegar mind. Any Brit foolish enough to mention the 'v' word in this neck of the woods is treated with deep mistrust and suspicion.
Weird. Maybe they'd have been more accommodating if I'd been wearing a very small person's sailing pants.
Now a deep-sea fishing base, this was the scene of a massacre in 1809 when Maoris killed several crew members of HMS Boyd who'd come ashore. They then donned the sailors' clothing and boarded the ship attacking the remaining crew. A barrel of gunpowder exploded and the ship was burned to the waterline.
Or at least that's what I read in one of our guide-books.
Personally, I don't buy it. For a start, the Maoris would have been sporting their distinctive facial tattoos, which crewman's clothing isn't going to do much of a job of hiding. But more importantly, I'm yet to see a Maori who doesn't tip the scales at under 18 stone, so unless the outfits were fashioned from Spandex they'd have struggled terribly to get into the trousers.
Great walk though. We ended up on top of St.Pauls Rock high above the Harbour with exceptional views over the northern stretch of The Bay of Islands.
Stopped for a magnificent plate of Fish and Chips on the waterfront at Mangonui. Cooked to order, and to perfection. No vinegar mind. Any Brit foolish enough to mention the 'v' word in this neck of the woods is treated with deep mistrust and suspicion.
Weird. Maybe they'd have been more accommodating if I'd been wearing a very small person's sailing pants.
Day 59. Russell. Lazy, hazy day.
Lovely sunny day so passed the time pottering about in Russell and on a nearby beach.
Wend spotted the Brummies we'd met a few days ago but we managed to duck into a shop before they saw us.
A close call - couldn't handle any of John's terrible Tommy Cooper impersonations today.
Wend spotted the Brummies we'd met a few days ago but we managed to duck into a shop before they saw us.
A close call - couldn't handle any of John's terrible Tommy Cooper impersonations today.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Day 58. Russell, Bay of Islands. Old town, new money.
Hard to believe, but this small town in the Bay of Islands was briefly NZ's capital following the historic signing of the Treaty of Waitangi in 1840, but was quickly abandoned once many of the buildings were burnt down during the Northland Land Wars.
Darwin described Russell as full of 'the refuse of society', a magnet for fleeing convicts, whalers, prostitutes and drunken sailors. Now of course, it's all dainty cafes, expensive restaurants and twee gift shops flogging pricey tat. We could smell the money as soon as we arrived. Very picturesque and all that, but to be honest the place could do with a brothel and a few drunks to liven things up.
Had a watered down pint in New Zealand's oldest licenced Inn. Bet they wouldn't have dared mess around with the beer 170 years ago.
Day 57. Orewa. Smokin'...
The mini spell of decent weather came to a halt today so after a quick circuit of the rest of the Coromandel we decided to drive up to the other side of Auckland on our final push North.
Stopped off in Coromandel Town where we found this little shop that smokes all kinds of weird stuff on site. It's great. Their premise being, if it lives in the ocean and fits in their smoker, they'll sell it. Smoked Trevalley for me, while Wend tried Smoked Orange Roughy, both of which we're yet to see in any London chippy.
After 5 thousand kilometres we came across something totally unexpected this afternoon. A motorway. In fact, the whole driving through Auckland thing was a complete shock to the system - at one point we were even held up in traffic; unheard of in the past 6 weeks.
Dramatic thunderstorm just as we arrived at the campsite in Orewa, with a stonking rainbow to end the day.
Stopped off in Coromandel Town where we found this little shop that smokes all kinds of weird stuff on site. It's great. Their premise being, if it lives in the ocean and fits in their smoker, they'll sell it. Smoked Trevalley for me, while Wend tried Smoked Orange Roughy, both of which we're yet to see in any London chippy.
After 5 thousand kilometres we came across something totally unexpected this afternoon. A motorway. In fact, the whole driving through Auckland thing was a complete shock to the system - at one point we were even held up in traffic; unheard of in the past 6 weeks.
Dramatic thunderstorm just as we arrived at the campsite in Orewa, with a stonking rainbow to end the day.
Day 56. Hahei. Just like that.
This is quickly becoming one of our favourite spots in NZ. Walked along to the neighbouring Cathedral cove where we spent most of the day. Unusual rock formations, but didn't look like any Cathedral we'd ever come across - Gaudi's effort in Barcelona at a push I suppose.
Lush place though. More or less deserted too until a coach party tipped up mid-afternoon to spoil the peace.
We'd read there was superb snorkeling at high tide if you could brave the icy waters for more than 5 minutes. Not sure what constitutes 'superb' over here, but all we saw were some pebbles, a bit of seaweed and a solitary mussel.
Shared a couple of bottles of Red in the evening with brummy couple camped next to us. The bloke, John, reminded us of the Harry Enfield character who was "conseeederablay reeecher than yeeow". A carpenter by trade, he'd somehow managed to make a couple of million and left Moseley behind for a 6 bedroom pile in the Cotswolds.
Unfortunately, John was also a big Tommy Cooper fan, so we were 'treated' throughout the session to his take on most of the great man's best one-liners.
It was a long night.
Day 55. Hahei, Coromandel Peninsula. A big ten out of ten.
The West coast of the Coromandel is blessed with loads of excellent beaches and we took our time this morning driving from one to the next in search of the perfect 10.
Tough work, as you can imagine, especially with only a couple of Waihi Steak and Mushroom pies for sustenance (Curate's egg of a pie; mostly good, but let down by a soggy base).
Opted for Hahei beach, which has the look of something you might find in a remote part of Thailand; pinky white sand, turquoise sea and several little islands scattered out in the bay. Absolutely gorgeous it is, and if the weather holds we'll probably stop here for 3 or 4 days.
Wingspan of a Gannet by the way is almost 2 metres.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Day 54. Whaihi Beach. A short long walk.
Had ambitious plans to walk the full 9k length of Whaihi beach and back this morning. Probably managed a quarter of it before the temptation to get horizontal became too strong.
Spent the rest of the day doing a lot of nothing. Did spot a couple of dive-bombing Gannets though, which held our attention for 30 seconds or so, bigger than we thought they'd be, must look up their wingspan later.
Spent the rest of the day doing a lot of nothing. Did spot a couple of dive-bombing Gannets though, which held our attention for 30 seconds or so, bigger than we thought they'd be, must look up their wingspan later.
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