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 (!).

28th October - Goldborough to Kawatiri

We were relieved when the skies had cleared a little in the morning and we achieved the first 10 minutes without rain for what already seemed like a long time. We stretched our legs and had a nice chat to some American girls who had been working and travelling and had been invited to stay under sponsorship.

I found myself kicking myself again. I always intended to work and travel in Australia and New Zealand and would sometimes love to turn the clock back 14 years and have a word or two with myself. Hindsight doesn’t reflect an alternate reality though and I have to try to learn from it instead of torturing myself. Matt feels similar in many ways. There’s so much we both want to do yet before we have to grow up and I spend a lot of time thinking to try and reconcile what we’d like to do with what we may have to do. I have a constantly expanding list of skills I want to develop, and hobbies I want to take up, and things that I’d like to do, and things that I want to learn, and stuff I want to do better, and it just goes on and on and on. I want more people, more places, more knowledge, more life. Sometimes I can’t wait to come home to get started and sometimes I’m too scared to come home because I cannot see how reality can possibly work like that. Surely I couldn’t have been doing all of these things all along? Maybe the magic only works while we’re away? It’s hard to not spend too much time scrabbling away in my mind for a way to somehow make it all work.

But in the end I don’t like to talk about it because it all sounds too corny. I just know that I have never been so relaxed and happy but how could I not be? I don’t have to do any of the things that used to fill me with anxiety and self-doubt. I don’t have to teach or drive or please anyone other than Matt and myself. I don’t even have to pay bills or clean the house or do the boring stuff in the same way. I’d be stupid to still be such a wreck all of the time.

Back in the not-so-real real world, we tried to start Garry and found he had a totally flat battery and could barely muster a splutter. Almost everyone else had already left the camp site other than a large hired campervan and a man with a caravan who was searching under the trees using a metal detector.

Not wanting to disturb the sacred haven of a person’s posh camper we opted to ask the treasure-seeker if he had any jump leads instead. He was friendly enough but Matt and I soon found ourselves somehow dismissed until he was ready to stop searching for whatever he was searching for and check to see if he could help us out.

When we got back to Garry however, he seemed to have mustered some life from somewhere and started straight away. Magic.

Glad to be on the move and reasonably dry, we headed to pancake rocks where, due to a geological process that isn't completely understood, the rocks form in layers like pancakes. The sea has worn away at the rocks and made chasms, blowholes and other interesting features that can be seen from specially constructed viewing areas. They’re best viewed in stormy weather (yesterday would have been perfect) or at high tide for their full effect but we still saw the sea having a good slosh and a few blowholes blowing.

Keen to be outside as long as possible, we followed a walking track along the banks of the Ponorari and Punakaiki river for a few hours. The vegetation was totally different from our last few walks and we wandered from temperate rain forest to grassy meadows. It seemed a long time since we’d just walked through plain old fields.

We went over the swingbridge and past some pretty ponies and back to the rocks to take some pictures before setting off to cover a bit more ground.

We drove along the dramatic coastal road for a while but Matt got sleepy so we pulled over in a DOC site for him to have a rest. Matt had a little sleep and I met Phil Solid. I introduced the pair of them when Matt woke up but Matt found him a dirty disgrace so we left him there and moved on back into the rain. I’d explain more about Phil but he was spectacle probably best recalled verbally.

We spent the night at Kawatiri , a camp by the main road. It was a bit noisy and full of bitey critters but it was free so we’re not complaining.