We did not feel that the North Island was as attractive as the South but it had its moments. We stopped off in Wellington which has to be the most unworthy capital city in existence as it’s about the size of Barnet, but we were fortunate that our trip clashed with the NZ comedy festival. We saw an English guy called Terry Alderton who was pretty original and made us laugh. On our way further north we did a walk called the Tongariro Pass; it was about 26km long and 1800m up a dormant volcano but the views from the top of the mountain were incredible even with an 80kph wind trying to blow us to our deaths. Unfortunately our camera could not do it justice.
We then drove to a couple of places but couldn’t find accommodation at a price we could afford as the thriving Antipodean currency was burning a rather large hole in our pockets. We ended up in a really nice place in Rotorua, famous for its sulphur hot springs and coloured waters. We were not as impressed with the geysers as we had expected but the hot spring across the road was lovely. Our financial position had also lead to a new eating habit: one meal a day, buffet, eat, eat, eat, bloat, bloat, moan, hurt then nip to the supermarket for a bottle of wine for dinner. Our other highlight of Rotorua was their luge, similar in set up to Queenstown but much steeper, much faster, much more dangerous and as such, much more fun. I (Andy) came close to death as I flew full pelt round a bend with no barrier to shield me from the cliff below, my brakes were as useful as a chocolate teapot and it was only old school feet down and watch my trainers smoke that stopped me from a tragic yet rather stylish end. If you are in NZ do the Rotorua luge, it’s awesome!
We then drove straight up to the capital city that should be, Auckland. No surprise, after the luge experience, I got a speeding ticket. The first morning we had arranged to scuba dive in a local aquarium with a carpet shark, plenty of plenty of large broad nosed, seven gill sharks, King fish and a Manta ray and no protection it was awesome as were the looks we received from the visiting local Year 2 school children. We decided to have a few drinks and watch the comedy that night to celebrate our survival. Two shows for one ticket meant we could get the drinks in and settle down for the long haul. Our only oversight was that the second gig was somewhere else and when, at the end of the first show, we saw Terry Alderton (the comedian we had already seen in Wellington) appear again, we realised we were not where we should be. At this point we also realised we would have to leave our front row table and leave ourselves at his mercy. Quietly and subtly with a jug of beer in one hand and full glasses in the other trying not to draw attention to ourselves we began to leave the room. Just as we got to the bar I thought I’d afford myself a glance round to check we were clear, but when I did I saw Terry running after us. It’s hard to know how to react when a comedian with the build of Mike Tindall, a Cheshire cat smile and a sparkling pair of silver glittering plimpsoles with matching belt is right behind you, staring back at you while the entire audience is watching, faces full of anticipation. Alex let out an involuntary little scream. In the end he didn’t attack us. In fact we had a little chat and explained the situation to the amusement of the crowd. Then after a little kiss and cuddle we made our way out but not before he had kindly invited us for a drink after our respective shows. Our show passed painfully as upon our late entry we had doubled the audience and we decided we should take Terry up on his offer although unsure whether he was just being politely English. Fortunately he was there and we spent the rest of the evening having a really good chat and a good little drink to boot. Not only can he do the greatest Souf Landan impression ever but he was also a really down to earth top guy, just like Michael Macintyre. It was a really good end to our time in Auckland.
We hadn’t arranged from the outset for our trip to coincide with the local country rock festival in Paihia although the sight of literally tens of pensioners line dancing in full kit, and country singers playing their latest hits on every street corner actually created a really nice atmosphere. Though we discovered one night that drunk pensioners have a trait that makes them far more frustrating than the usual drunk teenagers. Drunk teenagers get in late, shout to their mates and laugh because they are inconsiderate, then they pass out and don’t wake up until midday. Drunk elderly folk get in late, shout to their friends because they are deaf and then as they don’t need sleep, wake up at 5 in the morning and start talking again.
That morning Andy had been skydiving, Alex decided to watch as she had already done one and this seemed the wise choice as I needed looking after upon my return to safety. I jumped from 16,000 feet and had a minutes free falling; it was cold, exhilarating and brilliant yet I never want to do it again.
Luckily, the next day we had booked what turned out to be one of our favourite trips in NZ. We joined ‘The Rock’ overnight cruise. The Rock is a renovated car ferry that sleeps 40. We had virtually a full group and very eclectic they were. We had a large group of young Indians who lived in KL, a group of Malaysians, some older Aussies, an American family, two other Brits and a lone mysterious Frenchman named Fred. Our first activity was a shooting completion involving a plastic duck attached to a rope from the back of the boat and a paintball gun. We each had three shots at the little fella and a prize would be given to best male and female. I was not in contention after my 1 out of 3 effort but I certainly knew who my money was on for the ladies prize, especially after her question regarding the shooting apparatus. “Where do I sight it?” asked GI Alex to the crew with the surety of seasoned assassin, then carefully and with metronomic precision she painted the little quack-quack with 2 out of her 3 shots and grazed him with the third. Alex was crowned ladies champ, given free cider and we adjourned for drinks whilst our fishing rods were being set up. We then all spent an hour or so fishing off the back of the boat though nobody caught anything, except Alex of course who landed a large red snapper.
For some reason I was asked to give a speech to everyone before dinner to try and bring people together. Luckily I like the sound of my own voice and was able to blag away, congratulating the Indians on their World Cup victory and sympathising with the Aussies over their Ashes defeat. I decided not to use my line about reuniting people from all over our empire and I think it was for the best. Though I did mention that after our displays so far I would need to practise homemaking and sitting on eggs as Alex had certainly taken the hunter-gatherer role away from me.
After a top feed and a few drinks it was time for our night sea kayaking which was great fun, looking up at the stars in the beautiful dark night sky. Alex and I then decided to go night swimming and few others joined us. All that was left to do was drink our hot chocolate, toast marshmallows over the fire and head off to bed.
The next morning we visited some of the smaller islands of the bay and were given a nature walk and talk about the islands history. We then went snorkelling for our lunch. The Malaysians and Indians were lovely people but not built for water and so they clambered about the shallows with lifejackets and a myriad of other clothing. Luckily we had befriended Kam. Kam was a local who was the size of Hagrid and who as well as working for ‘The Rock’ owned a dive school. He lived from food gathered from the sea, so much so that he’d never bought a mussel yet ate them daily. He swam out with us to gather lunch and he showed us how to dislodge sea urchins called Ateroa and oysters using stones taken from the sea bed. We collected many oysters but ate many more, it was a great experience. Then suddenly the mysterious Frenchman Fred (also a good swimmer as it turned out) started screaming for us to come over as he had ‘found a horse’. Trying to swim but laughing too much to get anywhere fast we approached Fred. He beckoned us to dive down with him and sure enough we saw a horse, a large, pregnant male Sea Horse, it was a brilliant sight. After lunch we made our way back to port knowing we had been on an absolutely superb trip!
So now off to Japan for 48 hours for Sushi and Sumo!
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