We landed in Auckland on a hot Friday afternoon for a 5 day dash around New Zealand’s North Island; known in Maori as “Te Ika a Maui” meaning “the fish of Maui.”
The “Lucky Rookie” camper van was our transport and accomodation for our dash, and if you met our valiant steed you may describe her as a fairly shaky elderly lady, somewhat wafty and disinterested around bends, and prone to offer a deep shudder of disdain when brakes were required. She was surprisingly effective at heating up her interior in record time, requiring the windows open constantly- the noise from this often akin to a small hurricane.
We believe she led a life of offering her services as a camper conversion of a Toyota Estima to many campervan hire companies, and was now close to her last legs, in a “palliative” budget hire company. Her comforts included a bed converted from day time seating, a butane gas ring, a small sink, and a “chilly bin.” (or “Esky” if you are Australian…)
All you need surely?
Once aboard our Lucky Rookie we made a flying visit to a small supermarket for some rudimentary provisions and headed north. The Bay of Islands was our destination, but proved elusive that day. Instead Wharengai tempted us, its close proximity irresistible after several hours’ driving. It was a largish town with a pretty marina right in in the centre. We found a spot to (only slightly illegally) park for the night, and followed the sound of distant music to what may have turned out to be a bikie bar. It dawned on us slowly that we may be out of our depth here, and so after a quick drink and an unintelligible chat with a bloke called Nigel, all under the watchful eye of a large man-bunned Maori, we were on our way. The twinkling lights from the boats and graceful dockside buildings drew us to the water, and from there we wandered the streets until the cosy camper beckoned.
We nestled overnight among other vans, mostly larger, more glamorous and definitely newer. A beautiful Saturday dawned, the morning light gently awakening us. However, soon after our eyes opened, an abrupt start to the day saw us departing our night lodging in pyjamas, to the relative safety of the Pack n Save car park. Our sudden departure was due to the discovery of a warning sticker on our windscreen…. Apparently our night’s lodging was designated only for “self contained” campervans, and because we were not displaying a sticker on our windshield stating our “containment” status….. (meaning with or without toilet – we were without) we were presented with a warning notice.
So, after a quick change in the supermarket car park, more shopping (an adventure in itself in a gigantuan Pack n Save!) and a bathroom stop we were northward bound again.
The trundle north brought us to the Russell ferry – and despite my best efforts to get left behind – we arrived safely on the Russell side and carried on into the picturesque historic town. Highlights included our first breakfast with the van… seated overlooking a very pretty bay where locals and tourists alike were paddle boarding, fishing, and kayaking. A quick walk around town revealed the oldest church and cemetery in the country, (Russell was New Zealand’s first capital) and a trip to the museum included viewing a 1:5 scale model of Captain Cook’s Endeavor. A walk up to Flagstaff Hill and descent to a small holiday house village was followed by a memorable return journey! We walked back via the coast as recommended in the Lonely Planet to be done at low tide. However, for Swedish engineer; Magnus is a gambling man (an oxymoron I know….) and so decided to forge ahead and attempt the coastal return at 3/4 high tide. This started well, but ended up with lots of bouldering and chest deep wading. Quite pleasant once we got used to the idea, and definitely better than watching TV, but there were a few moments of hesitation, and I think I may have heard a couple of Swedish curses at the more fraught moments, like when the iphone and camera took a short swim….
The day concluded at a pleasant campground in Paihia, eating divine salmon patties on a misty rainy evening. The rain was just enough to deter us from sitting outside for long, and so we journeyed into town to wander around, finishing with a very pleasant seat at a merrily lit bar listening to a live music with a glass of wine and the obligatory bowl of Kumara chips.
On Sunday morning we trundled south heading for the Coromandel Peninsula. This was a long hot day of driving on motorways, and made us realise this was not the way we wanted to spend our time. We arrived in Thames and checked out the campervan areas – but decided our self containment status (not) precluded any free camping here – we did not want to push our luck with another warning…… so headed north along a really beautiful winding coastal road through two small towns to a campground at Te Puru.
Our campground hostess recommended a short walk to a swimming hole and we were glad that we took her advice. The natural water hole in a stream was sublime – clear water with a stony bottom, and we were the only swimmers. Just the refreshment we needed!
We also did a short reconnaissance into the beginning of tomorrow’s track. This proved worthwhile, as we knew that long pants would be required.
This evening’s meal was not a gastronomic success, in fact Magnus commented that although he eats almost everything, it was not possible for him to eat tonight’s offerings. No offence intended but much taken, and the paltriness of our meal was magnified by the gift we received from a passing large Maori man. He just sauntered over with a plate full of steaming kebabs and explained that he had cooked too many and would be grateful if we took some. We were of course most grateful, and even more so as we bit into their deliciousness!
The next day, Monday, was a challenge! This day proved to be our most challenging walk together so far, we estimate approximately 16 km- at least 3/4 of which were done on a steep incline or decline. Several stream crossings, and much rock scrambling formed part of our 800m ascent of the rocky spine of the Coromandel Peninsula, but despite our efforts and elevation, we were not rewarded with views to speak of.
A fabulous day, but somewhat sobering, as we were forced to understand we were no longer in our 20s…… (in fact we felt much closer to our 80s…. rather than the mid century we chronologically are…. ) Creaking knees and objectionable hips rudely forced this into our consciousness. We were pleased to arrive back at the campground to its comforts and glorious sunset. A quick swim and fish and chips by the beach were balm to our bodies and souls.
The next day we headed to Rotorua and enjoyed a true sensory feast of the sights, smells, and tastes of this geo thermally active part of the country. We both found this area the most different to our homes in Sweden and Australia, and we were very interested in the traditional Maori life still lived by current residents; cooking, washing and bathing using the naturally occurring geo thermal activity.
We wished that we had been alive pre 1886 to see the spectacular pink and white terraces before the eruption of Mt Tarawera which covered these popular tourist sites for ever after.
We ate a traditional hangi meal, had an informative guided tour, and enjoyed a performance of traditional Maori song and dance, including the use of Pois; soft balls on a string, swung expertly in rhythm, and on occasion to mimic a bird in flight. We also saw a 30m geyser in action, as well as many hot pools of varying hues and sizes, and pools of bubbling mud.
Our curiosity sufficiently sated, we struck off in the heat to get closer to Auckland so as not to drive too far the following day. We were fortunate to find a nice campground about an hour south of Auckland, complete with a welcoming cat, and a shady glade in which to revive our wilted spirits.
When sufficiently revived, we strolled down to a local tavern, which was good exercise at best – the rowdy but friendly locals had been there, quenching their thirst for some hours it seemed.
In the morning we headed into central Auckland and followed a Lonely Planet guided walk; then hired some bikes and peddled along a wonderfully crowded promenade, narrowly avoiding the bubbling masses of humanity that also were peddling, or scootering, or walking, or crawling their way along with us. Our route was a shared path along a stunningly beautiful coast past Mission Bay and Bastion Point. It was a public holiday and even more masses of people crowded the beaches and small towns along the way. We were somewhat fascinated by electric kick bikes – of which there were many!
Our day and New Zealand dash concluded at the palliative rental company – to return our still breathing old lady, and after reading hundreds of bad reviews, considered ourselves quite lucky to have a fairly smooth return process.
Onto the airport, and homeward bound. We are yet to consult with Magnus’s friend Alex about whether we appeared on Australian Border Security, (he is an avid fan!) as Magnus was perceived as somewhat of a national threat on his re entry to Australia. Luckily nearby was a fairly reliable Australian girl with whom he often knocks about…… (AKA me) and so after a lengthy chat with the Border Police, he was granted his further 3 month tourist stay …..
Hej då!