My arrival into New Zealand was heralded by rain and temperatures that barely reached double figures. Trousers were found and put on under dresses, sarongs (plural) were wrapped around shoulders and the Kashmir shawl was unpacked!
Peter and Cian were waiting for me at arrivals looking suitably exhausted after their 24 hours of flying and it was with subdued energy that we all greeted each other. Peter had arranged for us to pick up a 'Wicked' van, (Wicked being the company name as well as the description of the van!) and our taxi to their head office awaited outside.
Our van was discreet and understated. It blended in with the surroundings and the paperwork came complete with a bottle of pear Cider! We loaded the bags into the back, filled the glove box with promotional flyers, mounted the map onto the dashboard and hit the roads of Auckland as the rain continued to drizzle between the down-pours.
Thanks to my amazing map reading abilities plus my uncanny sense of direction we passed the garage at the end of the street twice before ending back at the Airport!
We reversed the direction of the map and tried again. Two hours later we had left Auckland and were heading for the Bay of Plenty – Well, we were definitely out of Auckland!
The Bay of Plenty was a bit further than it looked on a map, about 176k further than anticipated. After a brief consultation and a unanimous vote we turned left at the next junction and headed for Miranda where we found a great little caravan park to rest the night in.
We were tired, we were dusty, we were cold and jet lagged!
The park had hot showers, hot tubs, a park, shared kitchen, laundry, delightful grounds yet we just made ourselves a cheese and tomato roll each and went to bed at 8pm. It was still cold, it was still raining but inside our Wicked Van three bodies snuggled up nice and warm and slept the sleep of the exhausted!
We awoke to discover that the two mosquitoes, who had shared the van that night, had been exceedingly busy during our hours of sleep. Both Peter and Cian were covered in huge welts, I, luckily had only one small bite on my chin as I had been wrapped so tightly in a blanket nothing had been able to penetrate!
It was still raining and it was still cold. Hot showers were taken, more rolls were made and with the map once more pasted to the dashboard we forwent the abundant activities available in the park and headed back onto the roads.
Map reading became easier the further up the Coromandal coast we headed.
Eventually I had a choice of one road up and another back down so the map was put away and I enjoyed the passing scenery. The sun tried to peep from behind the rain laden clouds as we stopped for a loo break by a beach.
Shells littered the shore in a thick carpet calling out to be collected. The rain had now stopped, our legs were cramped, we were all in need of some personal space and so we disembarked and headed for the sand.
Cian joined the beach patrol looking for anything and everything. A thick piece of nylon rope lay abandoned at the far end on the shore, large fir cones found buried in the sand were washed and collected,
shells were gathered and wrapped in the folds of my shawl as we walked the shore line from end to end enjoying the fresh air and space around us.
With our new found goodies examined and added to our supplies aboard the van we felt better, the beginnings of emerging creations were under-way!
Despite the rain the views were spectacular.
Small islands lay scattered in the sea reminding us of the islands of North Vietnam. If the sun had been shining we could have spent the day in this tiny cove alone, collecting, making and swimming in the water. But there was no sun today, the clouds had gathered once more, drops of precipitation began to fall from the heavens and so we returned to the van to continue our explorations.
We continued along the coast for a while longer before our one road began to climb. Greenery now surrounded us as we worked our way up the winding, climbing road.
Tree ferns reached up and out over the canopy, huge ravines dropped away as we climbed even further into the heart of this volcanic peninsular.
With the sun shining this route must be breathtaking even in the mist and rain it was inspiring.
We stopped at designated view points along the way, rushing out to gaze mesmerised at the view, wrapped in our blankets and shawls and any other clothing close to hand.
Lay-bys lined the road, many on the corners of dramatic drops.
We stopped at each one to examine the lay of the land.
Out side the wind blew, the mists swirled as periodically between the showers, the rain lashed down, yet in our Wicked van we explored the country-side with the heater on, warm and dry looking out at the rich green mountains filled with their tree ferns, waterfalls and steep ravines!
The one road lost its tarmac surface as we followed it further.
Bridges allowed access to only one car at a time, and still the track climbed and climbed up away from the coast yet, with the narrowness of the peninsular, it was never far from sight!
Waterfalls fell to the side of the road, trees stretched up, shear drops defined the sides of the road. There were no crash barriers, no warnings, just the occasional pile of flowers beside the road. I was glad it was day light, glad it was raining and glad were were driving so slow!
We crossed the roof of the Coromandal Peninsular and began our journey back down the eastern side of the point.
Where the road split into two I made a calculated directional judgement based on sun position, the fact that there were only two roads on the map and the knowledge that we were driving down the first.
An hour later, after a very long journey through thick jungle like territory, we were back very near the beach where we had started the day.
The map was removed from my presence and Peter was firmly put in charge of our future directional intents!
The scenery changed from dramatic drops and tall tree ferns to climbing forestry full of pine trees as we made our way back towards Whitianga. I studied the Rough Guide and discovered we were only a few kilometres from Hot Water beach. It was getting late but the rain had stopped and we still had a few hours of sun light left, so with Cian map reading, we headed down the coast.
Hot water beach is famous for its 38 degree hot water spring that seeps from the point into the sea. At low tide this spring in uncovered and for about two hours people arrive with spades, hired from the shop by the car park, to dig themselves hot sandy pools that then fill up with this hot water. It is a battle of tide against man as each time the builders think they have build their sea wall to with stand the seas waves, one extra large one is sent to breach the defences and all hands must jump from their relaxation in the hot water to rebuild damaged walls and to empty the cold sea water!
(I took no photos of this place so I 'borrowed this from the internet - it was NOT sunny like this when we were there lol )Peter and I sat under a large tree, sheltered from the gale force wind by the surrounding cliffs wrapped in our various layers, while people wearing swim suits and woolly hats dug like crazy, lay down in the hot water and then jumped up as waves splashed over them and their defences! Cian paddled in the sea until, on one extra large jump, he misplaced his footing and fell over! Peter and I remained wrapped in our layers with-in the lee of the rocks as the mad men and children below us braved the sea and wind!
We returned to the van for food. Hot spaghetti with tomato sauce topped with cheese and served with bread was consumed as people returned from the distant waters edge looking cold and sandy! Dishes were washed, the sun (behind its thick layers of cloud) dropped below the horizon and we headed into the hills in search of somewhere to sleep. A quiet lay-by beside a forestry park was found and once more by 9pm were were wrapped and warm and asleep within our van (this time with out the mosquitoes!)
Breakfast was had amongst the trees. Peter consulted the map, I did the washing up!
The van was tidied and Cian, still sleepy from the day before was allowed to return to the land of slumber as we headed down the road. Peter and I watched the passing scenery in wonderment. There was just so much diversity within each passing kilometre. Small homesteads, rich farmland, huge forest ranges, tropical rain forest and tiny towns with their straight roads and 'No Engine Brakes Please' signs!
We drove until 11am nearing the town and harbour of Tauranga where we had read there was an old volcano that could be walked around in an hour. Large ships lay in the waters beside the roadside. Cian awoke in the back and sat up just as we rounded a corner and spotted the police man with his speed camera. Although we were not speeding, neither Peter nor I had our seatbelts on PLUS we had a sitting Cian in the back. 100m later we were pulled over by the officer's partner further up the road. Tickets were written, warnings re-minors in the back of vans were issued and with us all up front and buckled up, we continued the last 1k to the volcano!
The clouds parted to reveal a hot shining sun plus sandy beach. We parked not far from a loo, picnic table, clean bin, water drain and shower dispenser. New Zealand provides everything for the travellers!!!
Morning ablutions were completed, dinner of left over supper was consumed. The van was brushed and re-organised, dishes were washed, more shells were collected. With our lives and home ship-shape we began our journey, by foot this time, around Mount Maunganui.
The sun shone through the clouds and for the first time since our arrival, one layer of blankets was removed from our shoulders!!!!
A cargo boat had been washed up onto rocks a few weeks before and huge clean-up was still in operation. To us the beaches looked great but teams of people dressed in while coveralls still scrubbed and wiped at the rocks, large steam cleaners blasted away and filled bin bags lay awaiting collection.
The sun was now hot and the cold of the previous day was fading from memory. The red flowering New Zealand Christmas Tree dazzled us with its brilliant colours.
Branches lent themselves as bouncing swings as we walked, rested, admired and smiled.
Back at the van Cain went swimming while I created and fed the gathering bird.
They had arrived one by one while I had woven and weaved my newly acquired threads, looking for food and greatly disappointed to discover I only had shells and string. Peter passed me a piece of bread and I was rewarded by the brave and noisy who came to be fed by hand!
As the afternoon passed and my creations came into being, the map, along with the rough guide, was consulted yet again. We had a brochure for the Wai-O-Tapu hot pools that looked good. We had also followed the coast for past 2 days so a route was plotted that would take us inland to the centre of the Island and into the Taupo Volcanic Zone!
The drive down was once again breathtaking as we drove through the mountains and trees without taking ANY photos!!!
We arrived just before 5pm, only to find the park about to close. We picked up more details of opening times, read the bits about places to stay locally and headed for the mud pools around the corner.
Boiling hot mud 'plooped' and 'plopped' its way to the surface as sulphurous gases filled the air with noxious smells.
Strange shaped were thrown into the air,
Strange sounds surrounded us as we stood safely behind the barriers and watched with stunned fascination this strange and mesmerising phenomenon!
We had been told of a guy who, in a drunken stupor, had thought that a quick immersion in the hot muds might be a good idea. He had 'cooked' himself instantly and died.
These pools of mud were not simply warm, they were boiling and we were glad to have the walkway beneath our feet as all over the area hot gas seeped out of the ground making it impossible to stand on.
We stayed at the Waikite Hot Pools for the night.
This was a camping park beyond our imagination.
Hot steam rose from the valley as boiling water was pushed from the ground by the thermal what-nots!!!
This natural mineral rich, boiling water had then been channelled into a reservoir and allowed to dribble into a series of hot pools each of varying temperature, starting at 42 degrees and cooling to 15 degrees in the main pool.... 42 degrees I was about to enter heaven!
The grounds had been set out in a wonderful way giving privacy and a feeling of tranquillity as you lounged in the pool of your choice.
Food was abandoned as we entered the pools to laze in the soft mineral water, soaking away the strains, smells and dust of the day.
Two hours later we ate, only to return to the hot pools as soon as we had finished. The sky darkened around us, one by one the pools were emptied for cleaning and ,the warmest we had been since our arrival, we retired to or beds in the van.
The pools fill overnight and campers are allowed free access to them any time they wish while the public need to wait until 9am. I was awake as usual by 6am but this time I didn't have to wait for the rest of the van to awaken. I crept out with a towel in hand to submerged myself in the deserted pools. Steam rose around me, the ripples were mine alone as I drifted from one side of the pool to the other. Bird calls could be heard all around me, while the sun rose in a cloudless sky. This is what I had been missing. Warmth and sun.
Peter and Cian arrived at 8am to inform me it was time to leave for the lava pools. I persuaded them to join me instead and our itinerary was put on hold for an hour. By 9am we were still in the pools and Lady Knox Geyser was due to blow at 10.15!!
Sadly, I left the hot water behind, dressed and arranged the van. We purchased our tickets to join the growing crowd that arrive each day to witness this phenomenon and headed for the geyser.
(42 degrees!! I so need a new Hut tub please!!!)
