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.

Wed 14th – Dickie Flat to Whangaiterenga, Coramandel Peninsula

We were all packed up and ready to leave Dickie Flat when I noticed that there were some not-too-knee-crippling walks to the old gold-mining area detailed on the information board. We walked around the hills and down the Waitawheta River to Mount Karangahake. They started drilling and blasting for gold there in the 1890’s. Before too long the mountains was full of 12,000m of intersecting tunnels. There were so many that I have no idea how the mountain stayed standing.

Some of the tunnels were open to tourists and explored as far as we could. It wasn't possible to go very far into the mountainside before you hit an iron grill that blocked the gate but I’m not sure if I’d have wanted to. I found the old trucks and bits of machinery that we could make out just beyond the public access really creepy. It must have been brimming with life and incredibly noisy when it was functioning and now it was just eerily quiet.

Further mining also took place on the opposite side of the river, where miners created ‘windows’ in the cliff face so they could dump the rock out. We crossed the old tramway bridge to go and have a look around, but even with our head-torches, it was hard to see and treacherous underfoot.

The ceilings of the tunnels glowed with a ethereal, silver phosphorescence and I couldn't help reaching up to touch it. It was much slimier than I would have liked!

When Matt told me to turn my light off and look up, I wasn't sure what I was going to find. I was really excited when I saw the bright pin-pricks of glow-worms. I made my way as far as I could with my light turned off – until I got a slimy, stingy drip in my wide-open eye that Matt kept telling me was glow-worm wee. I was hoping that it would lead to phosphorescence based super-powers but no signs yet.  

I decided that enough was enough with my stupid old-lady knees and that I would finally go to the doctors – no matter how expensive. We drove to Thames town but by the time we arrived, the surgery was closed.

Instead we continued to Coromandel forest park to stay at one of the many DOC camp-grounds there. The first one we reached had a few vans in a square field so we continued further down the road in the hope of finding somewhere more National Forest-like. The next one not only had great name, Whanaiterenga , it had flushing toilets, lots of little camping areas, each with individual fire-pits, and was totally deserted apart from lots bunnies and birds and trees. We didn’t get to sit out and enjoy the facilities because, as usual, it was raining, but it was still nice to feel as though we were truly in nature’s domain.

Saturday 10th November – Te Awanga, near Hastings

We woke up to a sunny day, feeling determined to spend some time relaxing. I managed to sit and read for about an hour before I started getting fidgety and ready to do something.

A couple of the women that I’d been speaking to passed us on the way to do some whitebait fishing in the sea. I watched for a while as Di wrestled with a giant net and helped Judy count up the fish she’d caught. I found it really hard to touch the flibbely, white, wriggly things at first but I kept trying. When they asked me if I wanted a go I jumped at the chance – if only so I could have a go at wearing the waders!

With the force of the waves and the size of the net it was actually quite a workout. Di came out to help me nd we lasted about 30 seconds before we were both on our bums and soaked. We did get the hang of it though and, with a bit of mimicry of a guy further down the shore, we were soon collecting 20 or more per batch, plus the odd mussel here and there. Eventually we all got a bit tired and took our catch to clean and sort them.

Matt had wanted to try whitebait patties but we kept missing the chance. Judy and Di had owned a fish and chip shop before giving it up for a life of fruit picking and travelling and so they insisted that they would cook them up and bring them for us to try.

Matt had a go at cleaning up and cooking the mussels. They were big ones, though nothing in size compared to the shell of the giant horse-mussel that I’d seen on the beach – it was bigger than my foot! I tried really hard to like them but they were just a bit too sandy for my taste.

When Judy and Di brought the patties over a little while later I had lost my bottle a little bit. I’d eaten the mussels without chewing them too much or looking at them too hard and now I had to eat something that was looking at me. I didn't expect them to de-head or fillet something so small but I’m not sure I was prepared to eating so many whole fish in each bite. They tasted alright but I agreed with Di, catching them was infinitely more fun than eating them.

Over the course of the day, we met several of the permanent campground residents and were invited to spend the evening with them at Dave’s place. Mike had told us earlier that they made their own rum and we were quite impressed. It turns out that they actually made their own alcohol and then added flavours to it. 

The flavours for the night were rum and kahlua – which weren't actually so bad, if a little synthetic.

The problem came with the conversation. We thought that the Australian’s were racist but the Kiwis are just as bad. Gathered with 6 other people who had been so kind to us, we weren't in situation to challenge every comment, but we made no secret of wincing every time Dave made a joke we weren't comfortable with. I really don’t how people can be so nice in general and yet be so awful about certain groups of people. Matt attributes it to fear and I think he’s right but it still leaves a really bad taste in my mouth.

Friday 9th November – Ruahines to Hastings

As nice as it was to wake up and look out of the window over the world, the walk back down the hill from Longview Hut was horrid. It was certainly much steeper on the way down that I remembered it being on the way up and I needed Matt to get me down any section higher than a couple of inches. The scree surface made it particularly difficult, painful and hazardous and I was feeling pretty grim and sorry for myself.

We drove from the Ruahine range via to OngaOnga. It was a pretty, ‘historical’ village with a few traditional looking businesses but not much else there. It did have a DOC office and I was hoping to find out about some on-steep walks but although the building was open, there was no-one there.

We picked a few things up in Hastings and decided to treat ourselves to a proper campsite. We drove through the town of Clive and ended up at Te Awanga Motorcamp. It wasn't actually the place that we intended to go but the guy we spoke to, Noel, offered us a friendly face, hot shower, a sea view and to check-out when we wanted and so we couldn't resist.

We’d planned to spend the evening drinking wine with our feet up but somehow spent pretty much all of it cooking tea and doing laundry instead. We had a few nice chats with people, didn't have to walk very far and enjoyed the sound of the sea though so there were no complaints from us.

31st October – Mckee Reservoir to Nelson to Picton

We had a nice last morning in the campsite, going through the map and being given hints about where to go in the north island.

We planned to get a few mainly car-related chores done and Matt wanted to see Nelson so we headed there. We found a new indicator stalk at a breakers so we could get finally get rid of the one which was held together with cardboard. Feeling like we were on a roll we thought we should also get round to getting the wheels aligned since Matt has been complaining about the car pulling to the left since we set off.

Pulling into the mechanic’s, they immediately pointed out that one of the tyres needed changing because it was all worn on one side. We kicked ourselves for having left it so long but it wasn't safe to drive on so we had no choice. By the time we’d finished discussing it, the half hour slot they were going to squeeze us into had dwindled and so we needed to leave the car with them for a few hours.

Since we were looking at spending $500 in car stuff and ferry tickets for the day, we wanted to avoid the shops and so took a walk to the ‘centre of New Zealand’. It was a nice, steep, zig-zagged walk to the top of the hill and a 360⁰ view of the city looking like it had crawled out of the sea and spread out over the land. All of the cities we’ve seen in the South are low-rise and look less built up than UK towns. The only one that wasn’t was Christchurch and that has certainly changed now.

We circled the hill and came out at the other side of town near the Japanese gardens. We’d just finished a very pleasant look around when we got the call to say that the car was ready. We wandered back past rows of beautiful cottages, decorated with resplendent, colourful flowers and creepy Halloween decorations.

I just couldn’t get my head around having Halloween in the bright sunshine but it didn't seem to dampen the spirits of the groups of people out trick or treating later in the evening – though I do wonder if it puts more of an emphasis on having a decent costume when people can actually see them.

The day had flown by and we lost a few hours of the evening on the never-ending road to Picton. It was well signposted so we didn't use the map and only later realised that the main road took the most circuitous route possible. With a 5am start for the ferry, we didn't waste much time in getting to bed.

30th October – Mckee Reserve

I’d planned to spend our day of sunshine running, relaxing, reading and walking and it started off well with a nice jog.

After that though I’m not sure what happened. A ‘quick springclean’ of the car ended up somehow taking up the vast majority of the day and an awful lot of campsite space. I had our bedclothes airing on walkway handrails, the bed propped up against one picnic table, the tarp drying off draped over another, and all of our stuff spread out all over the grass.

Meanwhile, Matt was happily extending a lighter socket to the back of the car so we could plug our cooler in now the weather has heated up.

I’m sure no-one wants any more details about that and, other than a funny conversation with a fella who I thought was part of the family business but turned out to be doing community service, that was pretty much the whole of the day. Although we did get invited over to the neighbours’ to eat fresh bread, made in the wood-burning stove.

We spent the evening around the fire with Helen, Ken and Phil, making pancake letters on the stove in a cast-iron pan and generally listening to Phil as he told us ‘interesting facts’, comically -crappy jokes and showed us time-lapse videos of Maori ‘haungei’ – which we narrowly escaped watching all huddled together around a plug socket in the toilet.

29th October – Kawatiri to McKee Reserve

After so many days of rain recently, we were planning to head to Picton and get the ferry to the north island but today was so sunny and pretty that we just had to go to Abel Tasman national park.

Now I am sure that you are all tiring of me saying that the landscape and views were incredible but they were. Every single day we have been in New Zealand we have seen something spectacular. Sometimes I have found it hard to write the blog simply because I can’t wrench my eyes away from the beauty of what is outside my window.

Yesterday we followed the coast, looking past enigmatic cliff formations into the haze cast by unsettled seas striking stubborn towers of rock that had broken from the land and were dispersed far from the shore, We followed windy roads between ocean and rainforest and saw whisps of clouds lingering amongst the dark hills, suspended in vertical trails or wrapped cozily around smaller peaks.

Today, what we can see is much closer to the UK at the height of summer. Many more trees I can recognise but not name and even more I wish I could see more often. The umpteen greens I’m becoming accustomed to but with some now being totally overwhelmed by flushes of red, orange, yellow and pink. It’s like the Wizard f Oz where everything turns Technicolor.

There are rivers winding around valleys and segments of the land given over to growing kiwis, oranges, pears, asparagus and apples. There are hills of corrugated slopes, hills of evergreens and hills of scrubland set against mountains of snow. And the sunshine, tripping though it all and bouncing off rock, water and leaf, makes all the colours far more intense.

We stopped briefly in the town of Motueka and roundabouts to pick up bags of fruit from little stalls with honesty boxes. We bought golden kiwis, pears, tangelos and saw kumara, asparagus and more that we didn't spot in time to stop

We took the windy road to Marahau, which is at the end of the road in Abel Tasmin National Park and has a lovely beach where groups of kayakers start their voyages deeper into the park. We sat around for a while, enjoying the view and then went to the information centre to find out about walks. Even the walks involved catching water taxis or kayaking and we considered our options before deciding that it would be too expensive considering our recent splurges and that maybe we’d just find a nice campsite and chill out in the sunshine for a change

Heading back to Motueka, we stopped at the Monkey Wizard brewery and had a taster of some local beers before purchasing a couple for our day of proper camping. The lady who owned it was sulking because she wanted to spend the day paddling in her kayak in the sea opposite her house. I had to suppress a giggle when she complained that she didn’t get away so much because she had to make use of her home pool and spa. My heart bled.

In Motueka we paid a visit to the very informative I-site office where we found out that the next few days were due to be glorious. The lady told us about some nice walks and campsite and gave us some more information about different kayaking options so we decided to hang around for a few more days.

Matt had been complaining about his size 16s falling down already and we found some men’s Columbia walking trousers for a bargain $5. We also spotted a book on bushcraft for him and another one on grammar (not quite so adventurous) for me and so we were set for a good few days of proper camping.

McKee Reserve was unlike any $6pp campsite we've been to so far. Sandwiched between ‘bush’ and the huge blue expanse of Tasman Bay, it had several blocks of actual flushing toilets, cold showers, lots of water points, BBQ ovens and a conspicuous lack of the little blighters that have not only plagued our waking hours but also kept us at night tearing at our flesh – the dreaded sandfly.

I went for an explore and got chatting to a lovely, positive local couple called Helen and Ken, who had an impressive camping set-up and were busy cooking up a whole leg of lamb over the open fire.

Helen made adorable fur-lined slippers that she sold at local markets. They had both worked together until business had slacked off and Ken had to get a job. Ken worked in mental health and was full of praise for the financing and execution of the provision of services. He supported men in sheltered accommodation and it was really interesting to hear about his work and how different it sounded from the stories I've heard at home.

Also hanging around nearby was a slightly odd but interesting fella called Phil, who lived in his car at the site. He liked to park in the shade ‘to keep the chilly bin cold’ and so was permanently tucked away in the trees rather than out on the pitches. 

When I wandered back along the beach to our camp, Matt was still absorbed in his bushcraft book but insisting on pancakes so I got to work. I hate eating pancakes but love making them so he was already feeling queasy when I got overexcited and moved onto making them ‘American-style’ with a strawberry and pear syrup.

When I took some to our neighbours, they had a big pot of delicious veggies roasting in the pot and so I handed them over and cleared off to cook up some noodles before I got too envious. Matt was still stuck in his book and not feeling too sociable though so I went over later to spend the evening sitting by the fire and chatting to Ken and Helen. We had a good giggle pretending that I’d actually made Matt up and talking about how they’d met at a funeral (!).