Travelling around the North island of New Zealand really feels like seeing the whole world in a nutshell. A lot of countries claim that they have everything, mostly unjustified – thinking of France, Argentina and Israel here – and perhaps New Zealand doesn’t either, but it certainly can feel like it.
Arriving in Auckland was a little bit like arriving in an Asian metropolis, which is unsurprising given that 13% of Aucklanders are of Asian origin. The wall-to-wall Asian restaurants and shops, along with the neon signs and packed shopping malls gave it a feeling of Hong Kong but without the humidity, especially after the downpour that greeted us as we stepped out of the airport terminal. Apart from enjoying some katsu curry and miso soup we also took the obligatory photo of the Sky Tower and visited One Tree Hill, in the suburbs, from where there were some pretty clear views over the Auckland skyline.
Apart from the Asian cuisines New Zealand also has a few of its own culinary highlights to shout about. I suppose the two most famous New Zealand dishes would be some sort of lamb dish and crayfish, but for both of these I will have to wait for the South island. The first taste that impressed me was the coffee, served with great care and attention everywhere. I didn’t really know what a ‘flat white’ was before we got here (other than a brief explanation from a friend in Euston station early one morning) but now I can’t stop from ordering at least one a day. If I can find a steak-and-cheese pie to go with it then my life seems complete, a revolutionary concept in the savoury snack world. I was also recommended New Zealand ice cream before we arrived and I can safely say it lives up to this recommendation, the hardest part is choosing from the range of indulgent flavours. New Zealand has also embraced that mainstay of Friday nights in provincial Britain, fish and chips, even down to the correct condiments which most other countries have failed to adopt. One of the things I like about the ‘chippies’ here is that they also offer mussels, prawns and other shellfish, in addition to the usual battered fish, just to add a bit of variety.
The day after we arrived we met Monika’s sister, Lenka, at the airport and the three of us set off north from Auckland. On the way up to Cape Reinga are forests of giant Kauri trees, dwarfing everything else in the forest. These trees have been watching over the world for centuries, some of them older than Christianity. They have presided over virtually the entirity of modern history, albeit from a vantage point far removed from most of the action. Nowadays they stand there and prompt discussions among visitors as to whether you could bore a one-lane, or even two-lane, road through the base of the trunk!
We left the trees behind and continued further north to Cape Reinga, the landscape starting to resemble the stark landscape of a Patagonian plateau. Cape Reinga is not the northernmost point of New Zealand in a similar way that the Cape of Good Hope is not the southernmost point of Africa but standing on the end by the lighthouse felt like you were perched right on the edge of the world. It seems as if the ancient Maori felt the same way as they regard it as being some sort of gateway to the afterlife. Just round the corner at Spirit Bay a campsite overlooking the Pacific Ocean collide with the Tasman Sea offered the earthly pleasures of a beautiful sunset over a shell covered beach. All along the western side of the peninsula heading up to Cape Reinga lies Ninety Mile Beach, an alternative highway for those in buses, vans or those with insurance for off-road driving. At the southern end sits a small coffee van run by a typically welcoming Maori guy, claiming that is the only solar powered espresso machine in Australasia. I am prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt!
After all these transcendental experiences, driving south towards the Bay of Islands was bound to fall short of expectation, and it did. Having sold tours to the Bay of Islands waxing lyrical about the beauty I was disappointed to find that most of the highlights are hidden offshore and the town on the mainland resembled that of a British holiday resort. We did see a stingray gliding through the bay but other than that my personal highlight were the art nouveau public toilets in the town of Kawakawa. We soon snuck off to the coast just south and found an excellent, isolated campsite right by the beach, making up for our earlier disappointments.
The other piece of the island that juts northward is the Coromandel peninsula, an area covered with lush forest in the inland and lined with sandy beaches and turquoise waters around the edge. One of the tourist highlights here is Hot Water Beach, where spades can be hired for $5 with which visitors can dig their own personal spa pools, mixing the sea water with the hot spring bubbling up through the sand. Just around a headland is another of the highlights – the beaches around Cathedral Cove that resemble a Thai island with their sandstone rocks, sandy beach and crystal clear water. Take a dip in the sea and that illusion will soon disappear however, the water temperature being closer to that of Cornwall than Koh Samui.
Of course the only subject being discussed in public, on TV or over the radio during this time was the Rugby World Cup, which was just coming to its conclusion. Until the day of the final I had being hoping the All Blacks would win, mainly because I could not foresee enjoying travelling in a country going through national mourning. However, whilst witnessing the final in a pub on Coromandel by half-time I was secretly rooting for the French (a rather dodgy confession to make) such was the level of hysteria being generated. Since the World Cup finished the Kiwis seem to have realised that they haven’t had a government for a few weeks and that there are elections coming up so this has replaced the rugby as the main topic of conversation on every channel. I have heard New Zealanders being discussed by European media as being a bit slow and backwards but maybe the ‘simpler’ lifestyle is a much higher standard of living, spending a lot of time outdoors and engaging in physical exercise. It is also notable just how friendly and welcoming all New Zealanders seem to be – you cannot go anywhere without striking up a conversation about their country, your country, weather, rugby and everything in between. Especially chatty tend to be the Maori guys that own cafes, shops and restaurants, part of their marketing campaign seems to be to lure people in with a good conversation and then the people realise they are enjoying themselves and indulge in whatever they are being offered!
The Bay of Plenty has recently been in the news as the place where the drunk Philippine captain managed to run his tanker aground on the reef, spilling tonnes of oil into the sea, causing environmental damage and closing one of New Zealand’s most visited beaches. Along the coast we visited Petr and Lucie, who we travelled to the Gobi desert with. We spent the night at theirs, looking through their photos of Mongolia (all of us laughing when one showing Monika revealed her to be wearing exactly the same clothes as she had on that day!) and catching up on their news and more recent holidays. They have been living in New Zealand ever since arriving at the end of their trip through Russia, Mongolia and South East Asia. One of New Zealand’s most popular beaches is that at Mount Manganui just a few kilometres away, with a little mountain at the end with a trail to climb for amazing views over the Floridian style resort. We climbed on a perfect clear morning and could spot the Rena, the stricken tanker, offshore. When the weather is good here it is really good and it seems as if the government supports the outdoor lifestyle by providing great facilities to encourage people to get out and about. The strong public health systems also mean that very few people are seen on the street puffing on cigarettes, more likely puffing on hill treks.
Heading inland we hit the Icelandic part of the north island amongst the sulphur springs and lakes of Rotorua. A hidden gem is the Hamurana Springs just north of the lake, crystal clear waters winding through a redwood forest. In a Maori suburb of Rotorua town itself is a church and Maori centre amongst the sulphur lakes and every small house has a hot spring in the driveway. More bubbling mud pools are hidden amongst the flowers in Kuirau Park in the centre. However none of these can be compared with the multi-coloured lakes at Wai-O-Topu Thermal Wonderland on the road to Taupo. Although the name sounds like some sort of kitsch Disney park it is more like a national park and the natural geysers and lakes attraction are well worth the entry fee, especially the famous Champagne Lake.
This kind of thermal activity normally means there are some hot springs hidden somewhere and l0-and-behold we found some just round the corner from Wai-O-Topu, joining a couple of Kiwi families in the know for a quick dip in the warm waters, some sort of preparation for the Tongariro Northern Circuit trek we were embarking on the next day. The trek starts in the Tongariro national park on the other side of Lake Taupo, which we drove around at sun set.
The 3-day trek was supposed to be our highlight of the North Island but of course you cannot count on the weather and we woke to driving rain. Even fully clothed in waterproofs and with decent trekking boots we were soaked after 8 hours of torrential downpour and stomping through 3m of snow. This snow also covered the lakes and craters on top, hiding the attractions that make this one of the world’s most popular treks (at least the first day of it). To top it all off we had upgraded from camping to the mountain huts due to the 3m of snow and one of the main thoughts driving us on was that of a warm hut where we could dry our clothes and warm ourselves. So imagine the disappointment when we found that the gas heater had broken down. This was unrelated to the gas outage that was blighting the north of the island and causing farmers to destroy around 30 million litres of milk. The conditions became worse over night and with hardly any dry clothes to put on we had no choice but to abandon the trek and head back down to Whakapapa. Luckily the first day is the most important (people walk it as a one-day trek, the “Tongariro Alpine Crossing”).
We drove away from Tongariro and towards Taranaki to warm up, taking not the Forgotten Highway but rather the even-more-forgotten-minor-road. No petrol for 150km (we had to return to a town to fill up) and passing through ghost towns where we only met cows and goats strolling around deserted pubs and shops.
Luckily the weather was much better around Mt. Taranaki, even if we could not see the volcano itself. We walked along Fitzroy beach in New Plymouth, admired the new bridge and Len Lye’s Wind Wand and spent some time wandering through the beautiful Pukekara park, including the cricket oval cut into the hillside that is oft touted as one of the worlds most picturesque. The next day we took a rainy trek around Dawson Falls at the base of the mountain before driving away towards Wellington. And then, wham, in the rear view mirror the volcano peeked out from the clouds and we spent the rest of the afternoon admiring a slice of the volcano from various view points. A visit to New Zealand really is defined by the weather and I can really see what Crowded House meant by four seasons in one day now.
Wellington was our final stop on our North island tour. I was pleasantly surprised with the capital city. A lot of corners where people sat drinking coffee in cafes, side-streets full of street art, some really modern architecture and a harbour full of yachts swaying in the infamous Wellington winds. The lovely lady at Inter-islander ferries squeezed us on to a ferry the evening before the morning we were due to go and we snuck out of Wellington, crossed the Cook straits, negotiated the Marlborough Sounds and arrived on the South island. It is a shame that we missed the Waitomo caves and the wineries around Hawkes Bay but there is always something that must be left for next time!
Arriving in Auckland was a little bit like arriving in an Asian metropolis, which is unsurprising given that 13% of Aucklanders are of Asian origin. The wall-to-wall Asian restaurants and shops, along with the neon signs and packed shopping malls gave it a feeling of Hong Kong but without the humidity, especially after the downpour that greeted us as we stepped out of the airport terminal. Apart from enjoying some katsu curry and miso soup we also took the obligatory photo of the Sky Tower and visited One Tree Hill, in the suburbs, from where there were some pretty clear views over the Auckland skyline.
Apart from the Asian cuisines New Zealand also has a few of its own culinary highlights to shout about. I suppose the two most famous New Zealand dishes would be some sort of lamb dish and crayfish, but for both of these I will have to wait for the South island. The first taste that impressed me was the coffee, served with great care and attention everywhere. I didn’t really know what a ‘flat white’ was before we got here (other than a brief explanation from a friend in Euston station early one morning) but now I can’t stop from ordering at least one a day. If I can find a steak-and-cheese pie to go with it then my life seems complete, a revolutionary concept in the savoury snack world. I was also recommended New Zealand ice cream before we arrived and I can safely say it lives up to this recommendation, the hardest part is choosing from the range of indulgent flavours. New Zealand has also embraced that mainstay of Friday nights in provincial Britain, fish and chips, even down to the correct condiments which most other countries have failed to adopt. One of the things I like about the ‘chippies’ here is that they also offer mussels, prawns and other shellfish, in addition to the usual battered fish, just to add a bit of variety.
The day after we arrived we met Monika’s sister, Lenka, at the airport and the three of us set off north from Auckland. On the way up to Cape Reinga are forests of giant Kauri trees, dwarfing everything else in the forest. These trees have been watching over the world for centuries, some of them older than Christianity. They have presided over virtually the entirity of modern history, albeit from a vantage point far removed from most of the action. Nowadays they stand there and prompt discussions among visitors as to whether you could bore a one-lane, or even two-lane, road through the base of the trunk!
We left the trees behind and continued further north to Cape Reinga, the landscape starting to resemble the stark landscape of a Patagonian plateau. Cape Reinga is not the northernmost point of New Zealand in a similar way that the Cape of Good Hope is not the southernmost point of Africa but standing on the end by the lighthouse felt like you were perched right on the edge of the world. It seems as if the ancient Maori felt the same way as they regard it as being some sort of gateway to the afterlife. Just round the corner at Spirit Bay a campsite overlooking the Pacific Ocean collide with the Tasman Sea offered the earthly pleasures of a beautiful sunset over a shell covered beach. All along the western side of the peninsula heading up to Cape Reinga lies Ninety Mile Beach, an alternative highway for those in buses, vans or those with insurance for off-road driving. At the southern end sits a small coffee van run by a typically welcoming Maori guy, claiming that is the only solar powered espresso machine in Australasia. I am prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt!
After all these transcendental experiences, driving south towards the Bay of Islands was bound to fall short of expectation, and it did. Having sold tours to the Bay of Islands waxing lyrical about the beauty I was disappointed to find that most of the highlights are hidden offshore and the town on the mainland resembled that of a British holiday resort. We did see a stingray gliding through the bay but other than that my personal highlight were the art nouveau public toilets in the town of Kawakawa. We soon snuck off to the coast just south and found an excellent, isolated campsite right by the beach, making up for our earlier disappointments.
The other piece of the island that juts northward is the Coromandel peninsula, an area covered with lush forest in the inland and lined with sandy beaches and turquoise waters around the edge. One of the tourist highlights here is Hot Water Beach, where spades can be hired for $5 with which visitors can dig their own personal spa pools, mixing the sea water with the hot spring bubbling up through the sand. Just around a headland is another of the highlights – the beaches around Cathedral Cove that resemble a Thai island with their sandstone rocks, sandy beach and crystal clear water. Take a dip in the sea and that illusion will soon disappear however, the water temperature being closer to that of Cornwall than Koh Samui.
Of course the only subject being discussed in public, on TV or over the radio during this time was the Rugby World Cup, which was just coming to its conclusion. Until the day of the final I had being hoping the All Blacks would win, mainly because I could not foresee enjoying travelling in a country going through national mourning. However, whilst witnessing the final in a pub on Coromandel by half-time I was secretly rooting for the French (a rather dodgy confession to make) such was the level of hysteria being generated. Since the World Cup finished the Kiwis seem to have realised that they haven’t had a government for a few weeks and that there are elections coming up so this has replaced the rugby as the main topic of conversation on every channel. I have heard New Zealanders being discussed by European media as being a bit slow and backwards but maybe the ‘simpler’ lifestyle is a much higher standard of living, spending a lot of time outdoors and engaging in physical exercise. It is also notable just how friendly and welcoming all New Zealanders seem to be – you cannot go anywhere without striking up a conversation about their country, your country, weather, rugby and everything in between. Especially chatty tend to be the Maori guys that own cafes, shops and restaurants, part of their marketing campaign seems to be to lure people in with a good conversation and then the people realise they are enjoying themselves and indulge in whatever they are being offered!
The Bay of Plenty has recently been in the news as the place where the drunk Philippine captain managed to run his tanker aground on the reef, spilling tonnes of oil into the sea, causing environmental damage and closing one of New Zealand’s most visited beaches. Along the coast we visited Petr and Lucie, who we travelled to the Gobi desert with. We spent the night at theirs, looking through their photos of Mongolia (all of us laughing when one showing Monika revealed her to be wearing exactly the same clothes as she had on that day!) and catching up on their news and more recent holidays. They have been living in New Zealand ever since arriving at the end of their trip through Russia, Mongolia and South East Asia. One of New Zealand’s most popular beaches is that at Mount Manganui just a few kilometres away, with a little mountain at the end with a trail to climb for amazing views over the Floridian style resort. We climbed on a perfect clear morning and could spot the Rena, the stricken tanker, offshore. When the weather is good here it is really good and it seems as if the government supports the outdoor lifestyle by providing great facilities to encourage people to get out and about. The strong public health systems also mean that very few people are seen on the street puffing on cigarettes, more likely puffing on hill treks.
Heading inland we hit the Icelandic part of the north island amongst the sulphur springs and lakes of Rotorua. A hidden gem is the Hamurana Springs just north of the lake, crystal clear waters winding through a redwood forest. In a Maori suburb of Rotorua town itself is a church and Maori centre amongst the sulphur lakes and every small house has a hot spring in the driveway. More bubbling mud pools are hidden amongst the flowers in Kuirau Park in the centre. However none of these can be compared with the multi-coloured lakes at Wai-O-Topu Thermal Wonderland on the road to Taupo. Although the name sounds like some sort of kitsch Disney park it is more like a national park and the natural geysers and lakes attraction are well worth the entry fee, especially the famous Champagne Lake.
This kind of thermal activity normally means there are some hot springs hidden somewhere and l0-and-behold we found some just round the corner from Wai-O-Topu, joining a couple of Kiwi families in the know for a quick dip in the warm waters, some sort of preparation for the Tongariro Northern Circuit trek we were embarking on the next day. The trek starts in the Tongariro national park on the other side of Lake Taupo, which we drove around at sun set.
The 3-day trek was supposed to be our highlight of the North Island but of course you cannot count on the weather and we woke to driving rain. Even fully clothed in waterproofs and with decent trekking boots we were soaked after 8 hours of torrential downpour and stomping through 3m of snow. This snow also covered the lakes and craters on top, hiding the attractions that make this one of the world’s most popular treks (at least the first day of it). To top it all off we had upgraded from camping to the mountain huts due to the 3m of snow and one of the main thoughts driving us on was that of a warm hut where we could dry our clothes and warm ourselves. So imagine the disappointment when we found that the gas heater had broken down. This was unrelated to the gas outage that was blighting the north of the island and causing farmers to destroy around 30 million litres of milk. The conditions became worse over night and with hardly any dry clothes to put on we had no choice but to abandon the trek and head back down to Whakapapa. Luckily the first day is the most important (people walk it as a one-day trek, the “Tongariro Alpine Crossing”).
We drove away from Tongariro and towards Taranaki to warm up, taking not the Forgotten Highway but rather the even-more-forgotten-minor-road. No petrol for 150km (we had to return to a town to fill up) and passing through ghost towns where we only met cows and goats strolling around deserted pubs and shops.
Luckily the weather was much better around Mt. Taranaki, even if we could not see the volcano itself. We walked along Fitzroy beach in New Plymouth, admired the new bridge and Len Lye’s Wind Wand and spent some time wandering through the beautiful Pukekara park, including the cricket oval cut into the hillside that is oft touted as one of the worlds most picturesque. The next day we took a rainy trek around Dawson Falls at the base of the mountain before driving away towards Wellington. And then, wham, in the rear view mirror the volcano peeked out from the clouds and we spent the rest of the afternoon admiring a slice of the volcano from various view points. A visit to New Zealand really is defined by the weather and I can really see what Crowded House meant by four seasons in one day now.
Wellington was our final stop on our North island tour. I was pleasantly surprised with the capital city. A lot of corners where people sat drinking coffee in cafes, side-streets full of street art, some really modern architecture and a harbour full of yachts swaying in the infamous Wellington winds. The lovely lady at Inter-islander ferries squeezed us on to a ferry the evening before the morning we were due to go and we snuck out of Wellington, crossed the Cook straits, negotiated the Marlborough Sounds and arrived on the South island. It is a shame that we missed the Waitomo caves and the wineries around Hawkes Bay but there is always something that must be left for next time!
I'm always struggling whether to comment on Czech or English blog entry, but it's the latter one this time, as I'm writing mainly to Allan.
ReplyDeleteHow could you? You betrayed your Icelandic roots! Of course you read Independt People. Don't you remember what Bjartur of Summerhouses said about being dry and warm? It's just a nonsense invented by people from the town! And you guys fled from the trek, just because of being wet? Shame on you! :-P
Anyway, kisses to Monika and don't be such a soft flashpackers next time!
Yeah, OK, I hold my hands up. Funnily enough I had images of Bjartur going through my head during the trek, how he used to be really happy when he woke up after rolling off his bench into a pail of water! But also about the daughter who thought the people in the town were so friendly when they were laughing at her!
ReplyDeleteHope you are well. Trying hard to lose the flashpacker tendencies we seem to have picked up. ;-)