So we ended up staying a couple of days in Mount Manganui, a great little beach town just to the east of Tauranga. First we had to navigate ourselves past Mothers Day where, it seemed, anyone with a heartbeat had descended into the town to quaff on cake. Whatever happened to people just staying indoors whilst their kids conjure up failed attempts at breakfast in bed??
For the next three days the weather turned increasingly nasty. If the first five or six weeks in NZ went firmly against the meteorological grain then the past week or so have been, I guess, quintessentially NZ. On Monday afternoon we headed into torrential rain and gale force winds around the bay of plenty to a place called waihi beach, a beautiful stretch of coast that unfortunately resembled, on this day anyway, childhood holidays in Swanage stuck in a dark caravan for twelve hours whilst my dad recovered from a migraine. Despite the best efforts of the weather to put a dampener on things we got a great spot in front of the crashing waves where we whiled away the hours drinking wine and playing games...oh how the real world is going to hurt.
The next day we were off to do a circumnavigation of the Coromandel Peninsula, a gorgeous slice of coastline that juts out northwards east of Auckland. In the summer the population of this part of the North Island almost quadruples with an influx of tourists both domestic and foreign, but this very much being Autumn it was very quiet. Still, despite the incessant rain and battering winds we drove onwards up the west coast along a road that literally hugged the sea for 45kms where, once again, NZ's drivers proved there capability for being utter wankers (sorry mum).
We decided to stay in a small place called Coromandel town which, in the daylight the day after, was a really cute little place with cool architecture inhabited by residents who wore cowboy hats and wellies. You know the type.
So onwards we went, cruising around the north of the peninsula before stopping abruptly, a few kms outside of the Coramandel's main town Whitianga at a place called Cathedral Cove. Now although NZ's tourist landmarks have been in the most part extraordinary examples of nature, some have been tediously built up for no apparent reason other than to make bystanders stop and pay for the usual tourist by-products such as ice cream or magnets. This, thankfully, wasn't one of them. Even the weather, which up until now had been horrifically bad, decided to dramatically clear to leave beautiful clear skies. The cove itself was incredible, in fact the whole area, the beach, the bay, the giant arch created by years of erosion plus a perfect waterfall that created a rainbow effect as it cascaded from the cliff-top above were all really amazing to see. Even more so due to us having the whole place to ourselves until, just as we got up to leave, a packed bus full of loud tourists got off and came traipsing down the hill. Some things just work out too well.
From there we left the beautiful Coramandel to stay at a campsite literally in the middle of nowhere but which had something we would remember for a long long time. At the side of the campsite, covered by a large canvas roof was a huge thermal pool. As we were, yet again, the only people around we quickly made use of this amazing pool with one of the most spectacular night skies we have ever seen, anywhere. It was almost as if, as we lay there in 40 degree water, that a thin layer of cloud was above us intermingled in the stars but amazingly we were staring at the milky way, up there in all it's super-stellar glory, just beautiful.
So on we went, yet again trailing a path northwards but this time to NZ's largest city, Auckland. In the map, on the TV, in the papers and generally among the people it is almost as if Auckland has it's own gravitational pull, dragging other towns and people into it's orbit. In reality, it feels and looks like a bigger version of Basingstoke.
After paying for a pitch at a campsite on the edge of the city run by an Indian woman who took an instant dislike to me, we were on our way into the city, via public bus!
Our first impressions of Auckland's centre was that it looked about as generic as it was possible to get. I suppose it had the feeling of a smaller Melbourne just without any of the buzz. It didn't look horrible or anything just lacked the character and vibe of other cities of the same size. We spent the afternoon walking around the city centre, grabbing some coffee and sushi in the process before heading back later in the evening feeling a little bit average.
As we were giving the campervan back in a few days we decided to leave Auckland behind and head north in pursuit of something more interesting. We had four days and planned to do a circumnavigation of the northland without realising, in hindsight, that this was a huge distance.
We passed some fantastic beaches on the way up and by this time, thankfully, the weather had started to change leaving a landscape that looked more South Pacific island than new Zealand. Before long we had pulled into the Bay of Islands, one of NZ's top tourist drawcards which despite the guidebook exclaiming it's overhype was absolutely stunning. Cove upon cove of deserted White sand beaches with the clearest water you could imagine. They say that 80% of the time water clarity extends ten metres or more, which is incredible if you think about it.
Due to our financial situation (or lack of there of), we turned down the opportunity of a cruise but then we could see how beautiful this area was, islands included, from the shore and didn't miss out on a bloody thing. You can see why so many people come here, it was, to all intents and purposes, pure perfection.
From there we headed northwards stopping briefly at a place called Mangonui to eat quite possibly the greatest fish and chips (fosh and chops if your from New Zealand) we have ever eaten. I know I keep dishing out these superlatives (amazing, fantastic, beautiful etc) like sweets but honestly, it is all 'that good'. We shared a weird but beautifully tasting fish called a bluenose complete with traditional chips. Not gourmet by any standards but these kiwis certainly know a thing or two about fosh and chops...
So all that was needed to do now was drive the 200kms to the far northern tip of the North Island, a place called Cape Reinga, a magical place where it is said Maori souls depart to the after life. It was a huge drive up there, much longer than we anticipated, but we were rewarded with the arresting sight of two bodies of water- the Tasman Sea and the Pacific Ocean colliding together below from the elevated position atop a sheer rock face adorned by a famous lighthouse. It was the perfect place to essentially end our NZ adventure due to the sheer symmetry of visiting both the far south and far north and over 6000kms in between.
So how can we sum up our time here??
Well, we've spent 61 days in a van. 61 days where we have traversed, in most respects, the entire country. It is a country that is unspeakably beautiful, incredibly remote and populated by people that have a deep love for their country without shouting it from the rooftops. In fact its a kind of subdued patriotism where 'all blacks' flags appear not waving high from the top of a ford transit but hooked discreetly on to wooden gates in some obscure part of the country.
It's also a country that never takes it self too seriously such as possum patties being sold next to an animal care clinic or condoms, lube and pleasure products sold on a supermarket display entitled 'winter relief'.
In the end, we spent over two months in a van and didn't kill each other. If that isn't testament to a solid relationship then I don't know what is.
Peace and love, Tommo and shell xx
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