likely lads…..

Just before Christmas Steve and Elizabeth made the mission out to NZ and from the looks of their pasty complexions off the plane it wasn’t a moment too soon…

Steve hired a 6metre long Maui Camper and the four of us took off for 10days to explore as many highlights of the North we could squeeze in.

In Rotorua it rained…and rained, heavy and monsoon like for 2 days. Puddles like lakes, campsites like wetlands, it was insanely heavy rain. We abandoned camp and headed to the sights.

The highlight of the day, we’d read about a hot water stream an hours drive out of the city called Kerosene Creek. It was what the locals called a natural spa and still a freebie in a city heavily laden with tourism. Taking a metal road off the highway we drove for a further 20 minutes, the back wheels kicking up a dust storm until the road panned out and ended in a line of trees and the start of a small weather beaten dirt track. The creek was puffing out steam like a billy can when we arrived. We must have looked every inch the tourist crew as we stripped down to our togs, each looking nervously towards the scolding bath we were about to endure. A helpful looking maori fella called over to us, “watch out bro, it’s pretty hot tonight ahy”. You could see his cheeks were flushed despite his brown skin.

We waited and watched Pete move towards the waters edge.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the story I’d told everyone earlier that day on a geothermal village tour. I’d swaggered about recounting the tale of the Asian tourist couple that dipped their feet into a thermal pool they’d stumbled across on a nature walk years back and upon finding it cool had rushed back to get their togs on a hot day. When they came back to the pool they leapt into it’s centre only to be boiled alive as the pool had heated up to over 70 degrees in the time they’d been gone. I suddenly felt very responsible that I was about to cook my potential father in law alive.

The following day after the rains Pete and I nipped out to view the gorgeous lake we’d been camping at only a stones throw from our pitch. It was stunning.

And then we were on the move again.

PICK-AH-NICKINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG. food food food food food. There was a sallow dead goat on the bank behind us. The waft of decaying flesh was a horrible reminder of the 6 day old Christmas ham now going into our sarnies.

For Christmas Steve bought Pete a very cool rod and we didn’t waste any time getting in it the water.

I actually got home to a note on the bed the other day to say ‘Gone Fishing’, a quote that resonates with the kiwi way of life that Pete had been dying to have a use for.

Wine touring, need I say more?

Plenty of barbies were had. The word on Pete’s lips is ‘FANDANGLE!’, seriously there were sweaters in the 80’s printed with this.

For New Years we were in Napier and being that we all fancied a night of boozing through our wine tour collection we decided to sit tight and slip over to the beach at midnight to watch the fireworks from the Soundshell a couple of bays up the coast.

We played a name game ladies to gents with the blokes scraping in with a 1 point lead and by then suddenly midnight was upon us. When we got down to the beach it was littered with orange lights, as we squatted on the stones it seemed that everyone had a fire but us. Steve and I carefully propped our glasses on the stones and set about making FIRE. We huffed and we puffed, I demanded more kindling, more kindling I got! Elisabeth and Pete watched our crazed frenzy with great mirth until Pete couldn’t stand it anymore and took over my post as Fire Igniter. As midnight drew closer and our pit remained black Steve drew his hand into the air and with great aplomb said, ‘I have an idea’ and took off running towards the ocean. As we watched, Steve approached a group of youths around a fire, reached in and drew forth a burning log. Running up the beach we all silently sung Chariots of Fire in ours heads as he approached and proffered the fire starter. Steve, you’re a legend.

Note to everyone road-tripping about NZ, below is a doc camp (Department of Conservation) We pulled off the single lane forest highway to stretch our legs and found more than a pit stop.

Prior to this we’d been staying in your average campsite and at peak season they were rammed, particularly full of kids. The doc camp although limited in facilities (one loo, a tap and a billy can hook) was practically empty, right on the river bed and wonderfully quiet. I know where we’ll be camping in future.

From Napier we drove onto Gisborne and up to Whakatane. Dolphin country.

After browsing through the pure tourist gold that Whakatane offers we settled on Dolphin Sighting and some Dolphins we did sight!

This is a trip dic goes from: ‘I’m about to go dolphin watching, don’t really believe I’m gonna see one, but I’ll humour the skipper…. to: I CAN’T BELIEVE I JUST SAW A DOLPHIN!!!!’

weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee hahahahahhahhaha

The first one I saw made me scream. We’d been churning about in the ocean for a couple of minutes, the captain excitedly calling into the mic that dolphins were pooling beneath us and as I strained my eyes out into the ocean a dolphin leapt clean out of the water beside the boat, drew eye level and plunged back into the sea. And all I could do was squeal with delight. Squealing with delight is shocking at 30, no sooner had the sound left my lips than I was looking around to see who could possibly have made that noise…

Happy bows-men.

Nothing like a beach holiday eh?