Death Road down hill mountain biking

A small section towards the end of the Death Road. The road has widened by this point and the camera is pointing at too low an angle, but it's the only part of the video that isn't obscured by mud and rain on the lens.

8th December – Easter Island

We were up earlier to go on a walk to do the Northern route of the island. It was a clear and hot sunny day so we were well-armed with sun-cream, water and an enthusiasm to see the more remote sections of the island.

We took to route past our Maoi friends from yesterday, following the coast and stopping occasionally to admire the flawless blue sea and the rocks below from the vantage point of the cliff edge.

Our first real stop was at Anakakenga, where it’s possible to crawl through a small opening like that of the houses of Orongo, and into the caves below. Once inside, the cave opens out into two grottoes, each leading to apertures which enable you to stand suspended part-way down the precipice and over-looking the ocean. Matt went in first so I could get a picture of him perched high in the air above the crashing waves. Had it not been for the smell of the decomposing cow nearby it would have been perfect!

After Matt emerged it was my turn. I went in with a German couple and we had nothing but the torch in Matt’s phone between us. I wasn’t quite so brave as Matt and though I got close enough to the cave opening to see the sea, I was no way brave enough to stand on the edge of what essentially the middle of a cliff, with such a sheer drop into the crashing waves below me.

We followed the path for a while before stopping for a nice picnic at the last point before the path turned inland, and just before Ahu Tepeu, where we explored a platform with a few fallen Maois near a village site with remains of a few houses similar to those found at Orongo.

We followed the dusty path for several kilometres before reaching Ana Tepahu. We entered through a ‘Polynesian horticultural complex of sweet potatoes, bananas and taro’ and reached the two former cave dwellings.  

We had a look around the first one and took photos of the less-accessible second one and were just about to leave and get back on the road when a guy told us that the first one was actually about 400 metres long. We went back to explore its length and were glad that we had. We enjoyed poking around the lava tubes, apparently created when rocks farm around and moving stream of molten lava, were fascinated by a tendril of steam that loitered and rose in an small patch where a single strand of light streamed in through the roof.

We exited in the middle of a field and made our way back to the road and along the way a little to Ahu Akivi where there are 7 standing moai. It is the only inland Moai and only one where statues face out to sea. They are assumed to have astrological significance since, at the equinox, they look directly at the setting sun.

This was the first site of the day that was busy with tourists coming and going by the bus-load.  The Moais were an impressive sight and the whole experience was enhanced by the observation of the cultural collision of clothing choice between the sun-proof long-sleeves, jackets, hats and headscarves simultaneously sported by the Chinese, and the European students in their tiny shorts, tinier bikini tops and with nothing but a pair of sunglasses to cover their modesty.

We planned to climb the tallest peak of the island, the volcano Amunga Terevaka. However, partly because of the heat and partly because I didn’t fancy following a pack of near-naked student-types to the top, we gave it a miss and continued our circuit instead.

We were now quite far inland and without the ocean breeze it was super-hot. I was applying sun-cream constantly and cowering in the shade of my knackered Thai brolly but still struggling. We were determined not to miss out on the last stop of the route and so headed to Puna Pau – the site of the quarry where the top-knots for the statues were made before being transported to the sites around the island.

We hadn’t fully realised that the quarry was not exactly on the route and so would involve retracing our steps if we couldn’t think of an alternative. After dismissing the idea of nicking the bicycles carelessly left unlocked by another pair of tourists, we rested on the quarry-top for a while before deciding to risk taking a farmland trail that looked like it might possibly head in the right direction.

Undeterred by the log that appeared to intentionally block the route and in deep discussion about what Chilean trespass laws and what form local sanctions might take, we tramped our way across private land until we reached a dirt road.

The problem was then how to get to the dirt road. With the help of an old man who came out of his battered caravan to point us in the right direction, we worked out the ‘gate’ – a simple process of temporarily dismantling a barbed-wire fence in order to get out.

After about 7 hours, 20km and 1600 calories later (thanks Endomondo!) we arrived back at the campsite, with just enough time for a shower (with a miraculously appearing door that didn’t exist when we left that morning), a cuppa and a piece of fruit before heading out with the campsite crew to the evening’s entertainment.

The Rapa Nui Kari Kari dance is a ‘folkloric ballet of great strength and endurance’ but we were expecting something totally tourist-oriented and affected. It was no doubt very touristy but there were also no question about the power and the stamina of the performers. The women were graceful, energetic and beautifully dressed, but the men really made the show. They were all muscle, potency and intensity and had the most superb traditional dress.

I couldn’t help thinking of the lads at school and how they would respond at the idea of dancing, singing, wearing ‘skirts’ and yet even they would not have been able to dispute just how macho these guys were.

As well as a combination of vigorous and sedate (mostly female-led and quite honestly a bit dull in comparison) dances, there were also a couple of instances of audience participation. We studiously stared at the floor as they passed. As much as we fully commend the bravery off all who took part it, these exercises are pretty much designed for humiliation and it was impossible not to laugh at other peoples’ efforts - especially the guy who just shook his knees like a petrified chicken throughout the whole routine.

Back to hostel it was time for a long-overdue Pisco and a good chat with Elena and Marcal from Spain. They had done a similar route to us but had also worked in India for some time and so we had lots to talk about. They were too tired to make the most of the Pisco so we rescheduled a date for tomorrow.

I was just about to go to bed when I realised that despite my best efforts, I had managed to get myself a good dose of comedy sunburn. Due to my high, round-necked t-shirt, I now looked remarkably like the Cluedo-piece, Miss Scarlett. Thanks sun.

7th December – Easter Island

After the heat of yesterday, we weren’t too disappointed to wake to a drizzly day. We chatted to Jen, an open and independent German/ New Zealander who spoke 6 languages and would have been annoyingly attractive was she not just so damn nice.

Our mission for the day was to see some more of the famous sights of the island and place the geocache coin that we found 4 years ago somewhere that might serve as recompense for our sloppiness.

The volcano Ranu Kau, with the staggeringly beautiful lake residing in its extinct crater seemed like the perfect location. Even on such a murky grey day we could see the striking contrast of its blue water and green vegetation.

The location of Ranu Kau is deserving of its immense beauty. The volcano sits on the edge of the island with just a small lip of land before the cliffs drop dramatically down into the sea. This section is closed to walkers but it is possible to take a path that circumnavigates part of the crater and leads to the sacred village of Orongo.

The route was crazy windy and I feared I’d seen the last of Matt as he negotiated the geocache area but he assured me that the rocky outcrop meant he was protected by the wind and wasn’t as perilously close to falling into a volcano as he seemed. Good stuff.

At the entrance of Orongo we met Carlos, the ranger for the area and a devoted fan of The Beatles and Tom Jones. He told us that he dreamed of going to Liverpool and Wales and seemed to be constantly on the verge of bursting into song. It was all a bit incongruous to be on the site of a distant and ancient cult and be talking about how Tom Jones still has very sexy hips despite his advancing years.

So, Orongo was a ceremonial village, built when the belief in the Moais was changing, and used for just a few weeks at the beginning of every Spring. From approximately the end of the 16^th Century until about 1867, the Make-Make cut used it for the Tangata- Manu competition, where tribal chiefs, or their representatives, swam out to a nearby islet and waited for the arrival of the spotted tern. The aim was to get back to the village with the first egg to be laid. It was an incredible deed of endurance and physical strength and the winner was endowed as Tangatu-Manu (birdman) and regarded as sacred for the rest of the year.

The site contains 54 mud and slab houses which are partly set into the ground to shelter them from the powerful elements, and overlooks both the volcano and the sea. They were built and used from the end of 16^th century to 1867 and it was interesting to see how solidly built they were (though they have been reconstructed now) and marvel at their tiny doorways. Orongo is also the main rock art area and there were lots of impressive petroglyphs around but they were cordoned off, probably due to their proximity to the edge, so we were unable to see them as closely as we would have liked.

Thankfully, it cleared up a little while we were there so we ate our delicious-looking but stale (I’m sensing a theme) cake and enjoyed the views over the islet as well as the other aspect of the volcano.

6th December – Santiago Hotel to Easter Island

I was reluctantly dragged awake at 5.30, though, all moaning aside, the wake-up call makes all the difference in preventing fitful sleeps when one has less than 5 hours in bed.

Matt realised he’d left his swimming trunks at the pool yesterday and so I called reception to see if they had found them. I had to explain to the guy on reception a few times. He was initially very shocked and thought Matt had left the pool without any shorts on at all. I straddled the line between amused and embarrassed at requesting a skanky pair of shorts be returned from a high-class swimming pool. I soon tipped the balance however as the housekeeper, who delivered them to the door very shortly after, had them hanging on the tip of his finger and looked nothing short of appalled.

Breakfast was better than all other food they’d inflicted on us so far but still very deceptive-looking. I find it so confusing when food looks so good but tastes so horrid. I was beginning to fear for our time on the island - if that was all the Chileans could dish up with such extensive access to resources, I dreaded to think what it would be like on the most remote inhabited island in the world.

Along with our recent companions, we were reassured that we were going to actually get there when the car to the airport arrived on time and check-in was uneventful. I was especially relieved when Matt made it through the flight without any shenanigans and we both even managed a bit of sleep.

A few hours later, we circled Easter Island as the plane aligned with the runway. It was a great photo opportunity but I was also juggling with the camera of a nearby lady who’d asked me to take some pictures and so they were probably not as good as I’d like them to be.

On the ground we found ourselves at the least airport-like airport ever. It was just a small wooden building surrounded by palm-trees and totally lacking in any of the equipment and contraptions of modern airports. We walked down the steps of the plane, across the runway, past the wooden, handmade sign post which signalled where to go for transfers and into what felt like little more than a tourist info centre.

I was delighted when we were greeted with luxuriously heavy flower garlands by Victoriano and left to wait for our bags – the retrieval process for which still involved the same amount of unnecessary elbowing, pushing and shoving as the typical international hub.

I took my beautiful garland off and placed it carefully on a counter so that I could apply my sunscreen, onky to turn round and find that someone had nicked it!! Since so many people were wearing them and there is only so much variety you can get in flower garlands, I couldn’t identify the culprit. I seemed unable to stop myself gomping and grumping as I climbed into the car. Victoriano disappeared for a while and came back with a flimsy synthetic one. I was delighted! It was so sweet of him to get it and because it wasn’t made of real flowers, it meant I could take it as a momento.

The sense that the airport was just a pretend model one was increased as instead of the usual motorway journey, we literally drove around the corner and along for a block before reaching Tipani Moana campsite. There we were give a very thorough introduction by Benjamin, the owner and one of the islands very few full-time navy officers.

Keen to see more of the island, we walked into the main area of Hanga Roa, the only town on the whole island. We saw our first Moai, Ahu Tautira, right in the centre over-looking the sea. It was a little odd to see it right next to a restaurant and with a view of surfers behind it.

Further down the road we came across another piece of unexpected modernity – the park gym. I remember seeing these apparatuses for the first time in China, and being absolutely delighted by them. When I came home I went for a walk with my mum in Poolsbrook country park and was approached by a woman doing research on how the park might be improved. I put it forward as an idea and the woman seemed to be as thrilled as I had been about such a ‘unique’ concept. After a few more weeks in Derbyshire, I realised that China was not so exceptional and that, in fact, the park gym had already gained quite a lot of ground in the UK. We have since seen lots of them. How entertaining that such a notion may have made its way to this secluded patch in the distant reaches of the Pacific Ocean but had still not penetrated the deep, dark recesses of Poolsbrook.

So anyway, we had a lovely time playing on the gym by the sea and observing the enthusiasm of a local man who really went for it and a bunch of local dogs who were equally as keen.

We walked further around the coast in search of more Moais. We found a few clustered together with some carvings. We were quite impressed by one with eyes and carvings on its back, until we clicked that it was on a steel platform, looked quite new and was facing the wrong way.

At lunch time, my fear of a lack of anything decent to eat materialised. The prices of food in the restaurants was severely prohibitive and the supermarkets, though abundant in number, were predictably limited. We were hoping that there might be lots of tasty fresh produce grown on the island but suspected from the brown, wilting nature of what we saw, that it had taken the same journey as us – including the delay of being bumped off the flight!

After a nice afternoon nap in stifling tent heat, we went back out to see more of the Moais. A cluster of different structures were easily accessible from the town, featuring Ahu Ko Te Riku, Ahu Tahai and Ahu Bai Ure: known to us as, ‘the big one with eyes’, ‘the middle one with no eyes’ and the ‘row of five’, respectively. Our inability to pronounce their names did nothing to diminish the grandeur and gravity of watching the sun set behind them. The feat of man combined with the triumph of nature was awe-inspiring.

5th December – Santiago to airport

Despite the bad night’s sleep and not having to fly as early as we feared, we were still up at the crack of dawn to get everything packed and sorted before we travelled. We took the metro and a different bus to yesterday and were safely at the airport by 10.30am.

We had loads of time so we headed to the LAN office to see if my little bag with my water bottle had made it’s way to lost property – it hadn't but they did show the the iphone and tablet that had been found so I could have been quids in on the deal.

Our flight still hadn’t appeared on the board but since the queue was humungous, it made sense to get in it. A couple of hours later we were still in it and only had a short time until the plane was due to board.

When we finally got to the front, we were asked if we would like to volunteer not to fly until tomorrow. The deal was nowhere near as sweet as our volunteering jackpot at the start of the trip and Easter Island was a dream destination so we weren't willing to cut our trip there short.

The check-in lady had other ideas though and spent so long dithering that our time for boarding came perilously close. She offered us a flight back a day later but it flew to Lima before Santiago so we weren’t interested. After leaving us waiting for ages, she finished her shift and took off, telling us that someone else would look after us and the manager knew all about it.

The manager was doing her best not to catch the eye of the group of people who, like us, seemed to be stranded at the check-in desk. When I did manage to collar her and ask if we were getting on the flight, she simply said, ‘no’. Not too long after, she also picked up her bag and scarpered – this time without a word of explanation! I saw her trying to sneak off and chased her down but she was very dismissive.

Eventually we got to speak to someone helpful and things started to come together. We were sent off for a free lunch while they sorted out our flights and puny compensation. Things could have been worse though - there was another couple who were also bumped and had their time on the island reduced from just three days to two. They’d had their flights for about as long as we had and had even successfully checked in the previous night.

What couldn’t have been much worse was the food in the restaurant! Everything in the buffet looked great but tasted awful! I didn’t know it possible to make salad taste gross! We did have a good laugh about it though and crossed our fingers that the food at the hotel we would be sent to was a delicious as last time.

When we got back, the ground staff were panicking before we seemed to have a leg of our journey missing on our itinerary. We probably could have wangled an extra flight but admitted to intending to travelling overland to Lima at a later date. We did still have to go via Peru to get back to Santiago but they did change our Brazil flight to a more direct one and give us vouchers for food and onward travel when we got back to Santiago.

Finally, at gone 4pm, we were off to Hilton Gardens hotel. The one member of ground staff who had been exceptionally helpful, despite not speaking English, gave us both a hug and a kiss and waved us off.

I had a great afternoon in the hotel gym and pool. I can’t say I’ve missed much other than people but I have missed getting into my little head-bubble and pounding it out in the gym. After a good workout, I moved from the gym to the swimming pool, sauna and jacuzzi for a nice relax. I was about to go for dinner when Matt came to join me and we bumped into the couple we had seen at the airport, Mark and Margaret. We had a nice chat in the pool and arranged to meet up over dinner.

The company was great and we enjoyed hearing about their stories of travel in Russia but the food was terrible. I realised just how spoiled we’d been on our first ‘volunteer’ when the waiter brought over the menus, realised we were from the airport, huffed and took them back. He then told us what we were having chicken and mash for dinner. No choices, no vegetarian option, not even a smile. When Mark told him that was the same as we’d had for lunch, he reluctantly offered us pasta.

I couldn’t help but smile when the pasta came. It looked like a crappy kids version you get for a couple of quid when you order an adult meal in a chain-pub. The pasta was a kind of dried ravioli and it just wasn’t cooked enough. We chewed our way through a couple of pieces before Mark spoke to the waiter, very politely, and told him that they didn’t want to be there about as much as the hotel didn’t seem to want us but that we’d at least like something proper to eat.

We were told we could have something from the non-pauper menu but that we all had to order the same thing and from a pre-determined section. We gave the pasta a miss and agreed on the rack of lamb. It took ages to arrive and when it did, it looked so much more appetizing. Unfortunately, it was so tough that I got cramp and callouses trying to cut it. I was in stitches by the time that Mark just gave up and picked the thing up to tear it apart with his fingers and eat with his hands – not only was the whole situation ridiculous but it made him look even more like Ron Swanson that he did previously.

We were up late chatting and packing but it was so good to collapse into a big comfy bed without the noise of the Santiago hostel, knowing that tomorrow we would really be on our way.

Anji Canyon Jump

Apologies for the terrible encode quality and shocking editing. I'll upload a better copy when I get chance.

Anji Skydive

21st November – Forest Pools to Trounsen Kauri Park

There were lots of trails from the campground and we would have like to go for a walk but the DOC book warned that cars had been broken into so we didn't dare. Matt did accidentally indulge in a bout of thuggery himself though and somehow broke the doorframe of the toilet.

Halfway between Omapere and Waimamaku on the maps was ‘labyrinth woodworks’. We took a detour and found a little wooden puzzle shop on stilts with a massive great peacock sat on the balcony. I was greeted by a toweringly tall man with a long beard, who immediately engaged me with a simple-looking puzzle, handed it to me to work out and then showed me around his shop - while I pretended that I wasn't becoming extremely frustrated with not being able to work it out.

Louis told me about the puzzle society that he belonged to. They meet every year, in a different country and he had a selection of glossy brochures detailing the attendees and the puzzles that they had brought with them. It was actually pretty serious stuff, with membership being invite- only, and some of the best minds in puzzle-making. The ‘magic-circle’ of puzzlers, including such innovators as the creator of Sudoku. Every year, each one of them brought a new puzzle for their peers to try out. They brought enough copies of it for everyone to take one home and so they all left with over 100 new puzzles.

Louis talked me through some of the puzzles that were in the magazines and showed me the ones that he had created. They were mostly based around a system of building blocks with letters on them and they would have had me tearing my hair out in minutes. It was all pretty impressive stuff though and I would have liked to chat to him for longer but he had to go and bid for a giant sheep on an online auction!

Louis and his wife were in the process of developing a new garden maze – hence the giant sheep. He told me about his first experience of mazes as a kid in Holland, and how he’d sneaked into one without paying and just been enthralled. He was too scared to leave via the main entrance because he was certain the lady would know and so had to find the hole in the fence to sneak back out again. He went back years later to pay the money he owed and to maybe do some publicity but there was a young girl working the gate and she’d just thought he was crackers and so he just paid and had another look.

Given all this I had pretty high hopes for the existing maze. We paid our $4 to his wife Sue, and she gave us tiny pencils and bits of paper to go hunt down the 16 letters we needed to find and unscramble to earn our prize.

As we crossed the little footbridge in the rain, what we actually found was a load of string tied around tall plants with the occasional scrap of soggy cardboard box with a letter written on it. It was bad enough to be good fun so I still enjoyed it.

We were struggling to unscramble the letters until we got back to the shop and had a flash of inspiration. We asked Sue of the sentence was ‘five baby peacocks’ and I was quite excited that maybe we might get to see them. As impressed as Sue was that we guessed it without any clues, it turned out that the letters were as old as the maze and the baby peacocks were long gone, having been sold on ‘Trade-me’ along with their mother!

The area was famous for its giant auri trees so we stopped off on the way for a look. We followed the path through the forest to Tane Mahuta, the oldest kauri in New Zealand. When we turned the corner and saw him I actually had to catch my breath – he was humungous! A whopping 51.5 metres tall and with a 13.8 metre girth, he was 244.5 cubic metres of tree!

Next we went to see Te Matua Ngahere – the 2^nd biggest and named the ‘father of the forest’. He wasn't as tall as Tane Mahuta but was even fatter with a 16.4m girth.

It was also possible to take a different path to see the 7^th biggest kauri, Yakas. We were in need of a bit of exercise so we followed that too. I guess this poor fella wasn't as popular as the ‘lord’ and the ‘father’ because we didn’t see another soul. His delicate roots were protected by a walkway though so we did get close enough to throw our arms around him and really get a sense of how truly massive he was.

We made our way to Trounsen Kauri Park to stay the night. It’s apparently one of the best examples of podocarp hardwood forest and the book said it was possible to do a night walk and see kiwi, weta, bats, kauri snails and glow-worms. After dinner and a hot shower, we headed off with our red-light torch to see what we could find. Not much as it turned out. Our footfalls were noisy and so we must have scared off everything but the glow-worms. We did hear a rustling at one point and Matt thought he may have seen the shape of a bird but that was about it. The quest to see a kiwi before we leave continues.

20th November – Puriri Bay

We woke up to yet more rain and a film of glue on the rear of the car from last night’s fun. Feeling guilty after pigging-out, we psyched ourselves up for a soggy jog. Matt was straight out there but I took a bit longer. Spotting some dolphins cruising and leaping through the water helped give me a happy boost though.

Running alone on a seemingly endless stretch of sunny beach with barely anyone around is very liberating. Running backwards and forwards down a 250m stretch of pebbly sand in constant view of everyone parked looking out to sea is not so much. It isn't quite as easy to stay motivated when you have to cover the same ground 24 times and everyone is looking at you like you’re insane but at least the rain kept us cool.

I’m not sure what the deal is with having campsites with freezing cold showers that don’t have a roof. It was kinda fun yesterday with the sun shining down as I held by breathe and tried not to squeal. Getting dry today in today’s weather was a bit more of a challenge.

We waited a while to see if it would brighten up so we could go for a walk but there was no sign of getting a break. We passed the time watching half the campsite trying to remove an oversized camper that had got stuck in the mud. We would have offered to help but there were so many people already running back and forth to the beach collecting buckets of sand, wielding spades or standing looking pensive with their hands on their hips that we would have been superfluous.

We decided to see if we could drive to find the sun and took the windy road to Russell - the first European settlement in NZ and formerly described by Charles Darwin in 1835 to be full of the ‘refuse of society’.

In actual fact, Russell was very much like a Derbyshire village: mostly populated with shops selling expensive ceramics, over-the-top handbags and hand-made jewellery.

We took a walk up to Maiki, Flagstaff Road where Hone Heke chopped down the flagpole 4 times in protest of the British rule. On a clear day, the views over the bay would have been fabulous.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with several hours of to-ing and fro-ing from the pharmacy trying to get my now knee medication sorted out. The people at the doctor’s surgery were incredibly helpful but the pharmacy ladies were a little bit put-out by the whole process. I eventually left with a bulky selection of medication which they had refused to put it bottles because they ‘had to stay in the original packaging’ for customs, despite the fact that the tiny little pills of codeine were the only really questionable medication and they had managed to bottle those. They also only gave me enough pain-relief for 10 days so now have to go through all the rigmarole again.

I was cheered up by the car ferry though. We followed the road to Okiato, where it just disappeared into the sea. We waited for a few minutes for the boat to arrive, drove on to it and were in Opua in just a few minutes. It was so cool to be bobbing along in the sea in our car that I couldn't help wishing it was a little bit further.

We couldn’t resist a quick detour from Waitangi to Shippeys – an awesome fish and chip shop on a 19^th Century ship with proper sails and everything. We sat on board, listening to a guy perform an acoustic set and munching on deep sea bass, fresh from the ocean. Upstairs was open-plan with clear side shelters that could be rolled up on a nice day and downstairs was cosy and reminded me of an old country pub. Has the sun been shining I’m sure we could have been tempted to stay for a beer or two and watch the sun set but we had some fancy toilets to go see and so cracked on instead.

Friedensreich Hundertwasser was an Austrian eco-architect who spent some years living near Kawakawa and had been commissioned to design their public conveniences. They were meant to be quite a sight and so we stopped for a look-see. They were actually very lovely if not a little bizarre. Made from recycled mosaic and glass wine bottles with an elaborate roof-top garden, they looked very out of place in amongst bargain shops and opposite the chicken and chip vendor. They reminded me of the Gaudi structures in Barcelona, only in a more obscure setting.

We finished off a mostly unremarkable day by driving to Forest Fields basic DOC site where we passed a pretty unremarkable evening by a dirty-looking river.

19th November – Uretiti to Puriri Bay

Since we were right next to such a lovely beach, it seemed a shame not to take advantage and go for a morning jog. Since we only have one MP3 player now, Matt went first. He didn't expect to get far but he returned after a good while and looking a funny colour so I knew he’d done better than he thought. When I measured it using the software on my phone, he’d jogged 3km non-stop. Looks like it won’t just be walking that he’s kicking my ass at soon.

The sun was heating up by the time that I went and I’m not sure my date with Ranfurly last night helped. 6km later I was boiling hot and actually looking forward to a cold shower. As I drew towards the exit off the beach, I noticed a bunch of elderly nudists, hanging loose on the sand and, before I thought about it too hard, just chucked off my clothes and ran into the sea. I was delighted with myself. An old guy asked my about the temperature of the water and I stopped for a quick chat with him and his wife after I’d put my clothes back on. I’m not sure I’ve ever stared someone in the eyes so intently.

We drove to Whangarei but it looked pretty rough so we didn’t stay long. We’ve been trying to reduce our amount of ‘stuff’ so Matt dropped off some things (mainly his coat collection) at the op-shop (but still couldn’t resist leaving with some binoculars) and I bought some contact adhesive for my multiple shoe issues. We also stocked up on water-proofing for our outdoor clothes – probably not worth a mention apart from the fact that it was made in Derbyshire, in the postcode next to ours (DE55)! All the way at the other side of the world and we were buying things that were most likely made in Heanor!

After all that excitement we were ready to find our overnight location. We set off to the DOC campsite at Whangaruru North Head but passed an interesting-looking farm with places to camp. I stopped off to enquire and spoke to a guy who told me they had were currently hectic with several families, pony camp, dirt-bike camp and about 25 WOOFERS but that we were welcome to stay. The farmhouse stretched out with various rooms, seemingly all tagged together in a ramshackle order and containing with people of all ages, most of whom didn't even look up as I passed. Matt wasn't feeling too sparkly and I wasn't really in the mood to try to penetrate such a dense and confusing bubble and so we continued.

I can’t say that the area seemed particularly friendly. We passed lots individual segments of private land, all bearing an array of signs declaring that dogs, stray livestock and trespassers would be shot. No spontaneous walks there then.

Puriri Bay was still quite lovely despite the rain and was a lot more relaxing than the farm would have been. We ate dinner, looked out over the bay and caught the end of a speedy but glorious sunset. It’s been a while since we've seen the sun disappear into the sea.

Instead of going to bed we ended our evening with a frenzy of chapatti making. We've both been trying to stay away from bread because we noticed that we feel so much better in ourselves without it. Unfortunately, our will-power does not always agree.

18th November – Muriwai Beach to Uretiti Beach (with lots of beaches in between)

We got up at 6am so we could clear off before people started setting off to work and sat overlooking Murawai Beach as we ate our muesli.

We headed to Goat Island Marine Reserve with the hope of maybe doing some diving since it’s meant to be incredible and perfectly preserved there. It was far too pricey and we were concerned about the visibility after all the rain recently, so we made up for yesterday’s lack of food by munching on bacon and egg sandwiches and enjoying the view instead.

Matt needed to do some diddling with car while the weather was holding so I went for a wander around the reserve, where I met and a German guy called Simon, who made me feel envious by talking about his experiences while WOOFING (Working On Organic Farms). We took a wander to the viewpoint and he turned the talk seamlessly from Degrees in Mechanical Engineering to breasts, in the way that only men in their early 20s can. I was about running out of things to say about breasts when we bumped into Matt. Simon went off to go on the glass-bottomed boat and Matt and I drove to Pakiri beach.

Pakiri beach was lovely. We passed pretty little mini-inlets of sand and sea and watched seagulls fighting over fish before turning the corner and being struck by an expanse of shimmering blue sea and dazzling white sand. We watched a group of guys apparently fishing using an elaborate system of a kite, a weight with a flag on it, a huge reel and about 5 miles of line with hooks and bait tied at regular intervals.

We kept an eye on the kite while we wandered right down the beach in the hope of seeing what they reeled in but it was still flying incredibly high and far away as we made our way back.

Next stop on our unintentional whistle-stop tour of beaches was Mangawhai Head. It had been ages since I’d been for a run because of my knees but the long, flat beach and cooling wind made it irresistible. It was wonderful. I had forgotten just how much I loved it and I felt like myself for the first time in days. I had just got back to the car when the outer-sole fell clean off one of my trainers.

We were on our way to Uretiti campsite to stay for the night when we passed Lang’s beach, one of the beaches where it’s possible to drive your car. Matt was totally undeterred by the two guys trying to fix pieces back onto their car. In fact, he was so eager to get on to the beach that he nearly mowed one of them over.

We had to follow the tracks of other cars because the sand was so soft and tyres dug deep. We got to a section with wet, compacted sand and I suggested that it might be the best area to stay in. In less than a minute Matt was not only back on the dry bit, but trying to climb a slope. We got about 2 metres and were stuck fast. Matt got out and pushed and we still didn't go anywhere other than deeper. Thankfully, I’m harder and stronger than he is but I nearly gave myself a hernia heaving at the front bumper.  As we drove away he said to me, “Now I see why the sign said ‘Tractors Only’”. Yeah, thanks love.

We arrived at Uretiti, which just happened to be right beside another pristine beach. Matt made a cracking chilli and we took a long sunset walk down the beach, reminiscing about TV programs we used to watch with our families. I've been feeling a sad longing for The Generation Game ever since.

We got into a conversation with a nice Kiwi guy over a hedgehog and ended up talking about how he lost his son in Kenya because he was a photo-journalist and knew too much. I've met so many people with a sad tale to tell and the strength of some individuals just amazes me. I wish I had just a fraction of their resilience.

Saturday 17th November – Whitianga to Muriwai (eventually)

I’m not sure what I liked better. Waking up yesterday in a cosy bed with the sun streaming through the many windows, or waking up this morning to the default torrential rain and knowing that I didn't have to escape my sleeping bag, get my shoes on without being able to sit up completely and make the morning dash through the rain to have a wee in a pit toilet.

We skipped the Smith’s morning coffee routine just to have a bit more time to get the dull stuff sorted and avoid out-staying our welcome. We did end up with the opportunity to have a bonus chat with our mum’s though, which was super-nice given that we rarely get chance to these days due to the most awkward time difference yet and the fact that we can never seem to be able to coordinate a good enough connection with a charged laptop.

We spent a last 10 mins with Geoff and Lorna. Geoff was a very nice guy and it’s a shame we’re unlikely to see Lorna again because I would have loved to spend more time with her and get to know her better. We set off in the pouring rain towards Auckland. It’s like a different country to the sunny seaside of yesterday.

In Auckland city we parked up cheekily in Countdown carpark while Matt went to print out the advert for the car and my insurance forms. He came back to the car 20 minutes later because it wasn’t saved in the right place and then had to go back to the internet café.

The car park was covered in warning signs and I started getting a bit concerned about getting a ticket so I struck up a conversation with the parking inspector. He was a young guy from Dubai who liked to blow his own trumpet and with a bit of cooing and flattery I soon had a parking space and a friend for life.

Matt returned with the adverts and spent a bit more time having to write in the bits of his email address and phone number that the printer had cut off the end and then it was my turn to help out by walking around the city, asking the hostels to put them on their notice board.

I only had my flip flops on and the rain was making the streets super slippy so I was skidding all over the place looking for hostels, half of which didn't seem to exist. Eventually, I got down to my last 2 adverts and my brain finally noticed something that had been niggling at me – there was no price on the damn thing!  I re-did the rounds where I could be bothered and wrote the rest off.

We tried to dropped the last two adverts off in hostels in the further reaches of the city – it was reassuring to my ineffective but easily wounded sense of direction that Matt also found that some of them just weren't there and eventually left Auckland city about 5 hours later than we intended.

Relieved to finally be getting out of the city, we set the phone Sat Nav to a campsite in the Waitakere Range and looked forward to having some dinner and putting our feet up. Another few hours and three non-existent campgrounds later (the closet we got was a closed Christian camp) and we abandoned the Waitakere Range and headed 45mins down the road to Muriwai beach. We got there tired, hungry and with no energy to do anything other than collapse into bed – only to find the gates were locked just 10 minutes previously. Despite all of our efforts to be good and not wild camp, we ended up parking up on a residential street and sleeping in our clothes just in case we got moved on in the middle of the night.

Friday 16th November – Whitianga

Despite short sleep it was so nice to wake in a cosy, bed under non-rustly covers on a sunny day and jump in a hot shower. I got ready standing up for a welcome change and went to the house to chat to Lorna while Matt came round.

The theme of civilisation continued and we all went into the town to meet Geoff so we could have a coffee together. It was a very pleasant but strange sensation to feel part of a normal life for a while.

But it was such a nice day and we were in such a nice area that tourism called and we were soon off to see a few sights. First stop was Hot Water beach where it’s possible to dig down into the sand and release pool of thermal water to bathe in. This is only possible two hours either side of low tide because otherwise the sea is in the way so we took a wander down the beach for a while. We’ve had so much time near the sea but I’m struggling to recall any time we’ve spent actually on the beach, rather than just driving around the coast in the rain. I’ve never really considered myself a much of beach person but I found myself thinking about how much I missed running down the sand in Australia - it certainly seems a shame to have passed so much coastline and not had the weather to really enjoy it.

We made up for our lack of sunny beach exploring a little more by travelling to Cathedral Cove.  We were greeted at the car-park by startlingly blue waters and views over the whole bay, dotted with little islands. We took the walking path towards the cove itself and stopped briefly on the way to look at Stingray Bay, with its white cliffs, azure waters and even a picturesque old-fashioned-looking sailing boat moored nearby. It looked like a scene from a story book.

Further along, we reached Cathedral Cove. It was far more touristic but equally as lovely with its iconic giant arch carved from stone and the sparkling sea. We wandered for a while but weren't dressed or feeling particularly partial to basking and so took the flower-lined path back to the car-park, admiring the bright pink ‘elves hat stands’ on the way.

Back at Hot Water beach, it was odd to see the previously empty beach now with a big splodge of people in the middle, and even more heading towards it armed with spades. As we neared the crowds, we could steam rising from the little baths that people had dug for themselves. It was quite comical to see them all there looking like little birds in their little baths.

Despite seeing the steam, we stupidly marched straight into a spot where no-one had dug, not thinking that they might have a good reason, and promptly burnt our feet. Other places were cooler as the water from the sea merged with the thermal springs and we got to have a nice paddle.

Unfortunately, we had chores to do and needed to head back so we could prepare the car for its photo-shoot in order to be able to make an advert to sell it. It was great to be able to do it by moving our things into our temporary home rather than having them spread out in a car-park in the rain though, so once again we were grateful for our chance meeting with Geoff.

Our hosts were even more generous and were happy to let us hang around to make use of their internet to sort out more things, like communicating with my doctor over my stupid knees and finding out where the payment for 700quid to the credit card had gone. We felt a bit rude glued to the computer for the eve but hosts didn’t seem to mind at all and asked us if we’d like to stay for another night. It was great to snuggle on a sofa with the TV on in the background, sorting stuff out and chatting occasionally though. Pity it turned out that the online statements were just incomplete and that not only had the money arrived to the credit card, it had also been spent again twice over. Oops!

Climbing into the cosy bed for another night was a real treat and one that I’ll miss tomorrow I’m sure.

Thurs 15th November – Whanaiterenga to Coromadel to Whitianga

As we sat watching the birds and rabbits, we were in two minds which direction to take this morning. We knew we needed to be around Auckland to sell the car in our last week and so considered leaving the Coromandel Peninsula as somewhere we could visit on daytrips to get out of the city and just heading up to the Bay of Islands instead.

Since I was long overdue a trip to the docs about my knees, we decided to deal with that first and see what was going to happen with the grey-looking weather.

Thames is so named because Cook thought the river bore a resemblance to the Thames at home. Given that most of my experience of the Thames comes from the opening credits of Eastenders, I couldn't really verify this.

They did have a friendly doctor’s surgery, with a reasonable fee and the selection of recent magazines I’ve ever seen outside of a news-agency – though curiously, they all had their titles removed. It took me three attempts with the credit card to pay but I definitely felt like I was making progress to finally be about to see someone.

The doctor turned out to be a Geordie fella about my age so we had a nice chat as he layed me on the bed and touched bum with the heels of my feet while I tried my hardest to suppress my giggles. He told me that it wasn't clear from my symptoms whether the pain was related to my colitis or actually just good-old arthritis but I found the whole process a lot more reassuring than I was expecting to.

Even the blood tests that I needed were a lot more straightforward. I’m so used to having to make an appointment at hospital and then having to fart about getting there and waiting about for ages. This time I just had to wander over to a different corner of the surgery and wait my turn for a minute. I had to pay another $70 but I had a lovely chat with the phlebotomist about her daughter coming home for Christmas and the whole experience was generally a lot more pleasant and relaxed– even if it did make me feel homesick about missing Christmas.

It was slinging it down but the weather report said it was like that all over the island so we decided that we’d at least do a circuit of the peninsula and then we’d know where we’d like to come back to if the weather picked up while we were in Auckland.

As we made our way up the coast the day brightened up and we got to see some of it in its full glory. I can see why it’s the jewel of the North Island – it looks a lot like much of the South!

We stopped in Coromandel town for a wander and a debate about whether it was worth heading right to the top of the peninsula on the unsealed roads. A trip to the i-site gave us a 10km route to follow around the town and the scenic bits so we thought we’d do that while the sun shone and then maybe drive North in the evening.

Since we were back by the sea, we thought it was about time we tried a famous paua fritter and stopped at the chippy. It looked like mushed up liqourice and tasted like the sea and grease so I’m not really sure what the Kiwis are on about. It wasn't even as good as whitebait fritter and that had eyes!

The ‘fairly flat’ walk started off not so flat as it wound its way up to the lookout for views over the town and wharf but it was nice to feel like we were doing a bit of exercise even though it was sore. We admired the pretty pink thistles and the scene over the valley and grimaced at the big, black cloud that hung over our onward path.

The only showered here and there though so it wasn't so bad and the sunshine was lovely in between. We considered taking the Harray track but the sign warned that it wasn't so well formed in places. Without my sticks and with the memory of the misery of wet, dangerous tracks still fairly forefront in my mind, we gave it a miss and headed down Long Bay instead.

Long Bay lived up to its name but would have been better named, Cockle Beach. The tide was out and so the bay was just a film of very shallow water and roots, where snails drew patterns in the sand. We stood and watched them closely for a while, trying to make shapes out of their wanderings. The ‘sand’ was a layer of beautifully coloured cockle shells at different stages of destruction. By the water, there were millions of them still intact, some ‘chattering’ with the slight movement of the water and others providing a hiding place for tiny, clear crabs. There were a few other shells dotted amongst them but I wished that I understood what made so many end up here.

At the other end of Long Bay, we did the circuit of a nature walk where we could see the tall, straight Kauri trees, traditionally used by the Maori’s for canoe making and now quite endangered due to destruction and disease. There were a couple of gigantic specimens which were quite impressive, though the biggest of them all was now just a stump. L

Mindful of how little time we seem to suddenly have left, and the fact that I may need to go back to Thames tomorrow, we decided to take the 309 scenic route towards Whitianga and stop off at the a sunny point to make some dinner and take in some views.

The spot we found wasn't quite what we wanted but it did turn out to be the right one. Dinner was nearly ready when a tired-looking cyclist nodded a greeting. I told him he was just in time for dinner and he pulled over for a bit of a chat. He wasn't a small guy but he made short work of the huge hill so we were really impressed/put to shame. We nattered for a while and he declined food but told us invited us to stay at his ‘sleep-out’ and got back on his way. He called out on the way back down that he had text his wife and she was expecting us, which made us smile.

It turned out to be a very friendly road and most people who passed us gave us a wave. While we were packing away, we were messing about and I put my arms up in the air in an over-exaggerated shrug and glanced at the road. A passing woman skidded to a halt in the little lay-by, thinking that we had broken down and I was gesticulating for help!

We drove round to Whitianga and took a drive around the town. We hadn't passed Geoff but we didn't want to arrive at his house before he had finished his ride or his wife had got back from line-dancing. Mercury Bay looked lovely in the fading light.

We approached the house with trepidation given that it was a bit of an odd situation. There was no need. As soon as I met Lorna, I took to her instantly and we were jabbering along in no time.  She was lucky enough to have the talent and the time to indulge in all sorts of hobbies and many of them were things that I have considering spending more time doing and learning about in the future - painting, photography and dressmaking were three that immediately stood out. Not only that but Geoff was a joiner – my most fantasized about future hobby!

After Geoff had had his well-deserved dinner, they took us out for a night-time tour in the car to orient us and tell us a bit more about the local area. Even though New Zealand doesn't have much in the way of what we’d call history, I do like how most people have an interest and knowledge of the heritage of their surroundings. 

We passed the rest of the evening chatting and drinking delicious coffee. Unfortunately, this kept me awake thinking about far-fetched future plans where we split our time between India and the UK. Fortunately, the fact that we were in an actual room meant that I could pass the time doing yoga or just enjoying the space and comfort of the bed.