Day 257 – 15 April 2010: Strange Dreams and Caz jumps out of the plane

I heard a lot of stag calls last night, though there was a distinctly human quality to many of them. It’s how the hunters attract the stags towards them as reciprocal stag calls amount to a ‘challenge’. However, I can’t help thinking it was just two hunters confused as to whether the return call was beast or man. There weren’t any shots fired last night because, as former Welshman Robert explains, you would have to be nuts to go firing shots out in the middle night. This is not to say that you can’t see stags at night because their eyes shine out ‘like big silver golf balls’. Apparently, this campsite will be packed out in a couple of weeks as the deer hunting season gets started properly. Robert doesn’t seem too pleased about this, presumably because there will be too much competition.

I’ve related my experience of Milford Sound a couple of weeks ago and Robert says that he has kayaked from Doubtful Sound to Milford Sound, which sounds like something I would like to do. How long did it take? ‘Eight weeks,’ he says. Oh well, maybe next time.....

I had a strange dream last night, where I walked into a crowded room to find a young slim Elton John singing a song by a band called Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy (or previously The Beatnigs, both of whom feature Michael Shanti, now of Spearhead, music trivia nerds)....’Television, drug of the nation, breeding ignorance and feeding radiation’.....not very Bernie Taupin-esque lyrics you understand, and another good song murdered, I think to myself as I stand at the back of the room. ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds’ anyone? However, my brother, who in reality I haven’t seen or spoken to since I left the UK, is at the back of the room and he says it sounds good.....

We have to go back through Taupo today to get Caz to her 10:30 appointment to get pushed out of plane at 15,000 feet. However, it is too windy this morning apparently, although it is not very windy on the ground. So we have a few hours to kill and we decide to go for a walk around Huka Falls.

Upstream from these falls, the river narrows from about 100m diameter down to about 15m, which means the river suddenly becomes a rapid that only suicidal rafters would attempt, even if the rapid didn’t eventually lead to the 35m crashing waterfall. At the top of the walk toward the falls is a hot spring creek, which forms a natural Jacuzzi and a chance for a free natural hot springs bathing experience. Hot springs have been turned into commercial enterprises wherever possible, but this one is not big enough for that, and we pass a group young women coming out of it in their bikinis.

After the walk, we go back for Caz’s parachute jump. She is very nervous as she is escorted into the plane and Mary and I watch as it ascends out of visibility. About half an hour later, Caz is back on the ground with a flushed and excited face, exclaiming that she wants to go again.....

We camp by Lake Rerewhakaaitu where we bump into an American couple who recognise Olive, our van, from the South Island. We are just south of Rotorua, the volcanic town by the lake of the same name.

steaming hot spring

Day 256 – 14 April 2010: swinging about on a jet boat on the Aratiata Rapids

Today we have another scenic drive, this one overlooking lakes Rotoaira and Taupo.

We stop in the town of Taupo. Across the street from the information centre is a McDonald’s with a 1940s style passenger plane attached to it for additional customer seating.

In the information centre, we all book a jet boat ride for the afternoon with Rapid Jet, who claim to operate the only jet boat in NZ that goes over whitewater rapids. After a quick walk around town, it is time to drive to the starting point.

The boat ride is on Aratiatia Rapids on the Waikato River. At the top of the rapid is a large hydroelectric power station, with the rapids being a spill off from it. There are eight people on the quite compact speed boat, which makes it extremely agile, light, and therefore fast. Jet boats are powered by a jet of water ejected from the back of the craft, making the propulsion much more intense. The pilot swings us between various obstacles and the rock face banks, seemingly coming within inches of serious hazard. As well as a lot of fun, it’s a scenic little canyon. The pilot tells us that this part of the river was recently used as a setting by a film crew for a Yogi Bear film that is supposed to come out next year.

We are told that we are not allowed to bring cameras on the trip because we will probably drop them, which could be dangerous. It has nothing to do with the Rapid Jet employee photographing us as we go up and down the rapids so they can sell us a CD of them when we finish. We buy one CD to share between us, which costs NZ$35 (£17) on top of the $90 per person for the ride. Not that I am complaining though. It was like a scenic roller coaster ride that lasted for more than half an hour, though it didn’t seem so long.

Tonight we camp at a DoC site defined as ‘basic’, which means it has no water facilities (and no TP in the toilet). It is about 40km from Taupo and is accessed via a dirt track. In fact there is a track that goes through the campsite deeper into the woodland which undulates up and down and in bends, just like a BMX or Quad Biking track. However, I am told by one of our fellow campers that people take their 4x4s on this.

This is a hunters’ campsite and, for probably the first time since we arrived in NZ, most of its patrons are New Zealanders. They are here for the population of deer in the woods around us. One of the hunters is friendly guy of about fifty called Robert, who has brought his young sons as well as being joined by extended family. He is originally from Wales, but left in 1981 and now lives in Hamilton. We have a long chat with him, during which time he asks how much it costs to go stag hunting in England. When I explain that in England such things are seen a rich man’s hobby, he is quite disappointed as he had hoped to make a trip. Hunting seems to be very much a part of the everyman culture in NZ. Robert tells us he doesn’t have a job, so he sources his food the old fashioned way.

Day 255 – 13 April 2011: Where are the Orks?

We have to get Olive out of her parking space by eight this morning, so we depart Wellington early to drive to Tongariro National Park. The Tongariro Crossing walk which Caz and I hope to do tomorrow is supposed to take ‘7 to 8 hours’, though we have learned that these guidance times are mostly vast over estimates.

As we approach Whakapapa, the tourist centre for Tongariro, we can see Mount Ruapehu, aka ‘Mount Doom’, from the road, although the peak is covered by cloud. The galloping forest and grassland terrain leading to the mountain makes me expect to see an army of marauding Orks charging over the ground.

When we get to the information centre, we find that the weather forecast for tomorrow is for gales of up to 90km per hour, making the Tongariro Crossing walk quite inadvisable, unless we fancied flying over part of it.  Instead we go for an hour’s walk this afternoon to Tawaki Waterfall which drops fifteen to twenty metres into a pool. It’s one of those waterfalls you can walk around behind it, which I do. I should really start scoring these. This is pretty cool, though maybe not so spectacular as a lot I’ve seen in or around Milford Sound, nor the one in the Aussie Outback where we went swimming. It’s definitely worth a seven out ten though.

We camp at a small DoC site on the edge of the national park. It rains again, so it’s another damp night.

'Mt Doom'

me behind waterfall

Day 254 – 12 April 2010: Outsized Spitting Image and a ‘Gents’ club on main street

Having wasted most of the day sorting out pictures and finances on the computer, I go off to the parliament building, Wellington being the capital of New Zealand. However, when I get there at 4:10 I am told I have missed the last tour, so I go across the street to the ‘Backbenchers’ pub.

This is populated by some official looking people going through their briefcases of papers while outsized caricature puppets hang from the walls and ceiling. I am sure that they are very well known in New Zealand, but I can’t say I recognise any of them, although the style of the puppets makes me think they are probably made by the same people who made the Spitting Image (UK satirical show) puppets in the 80s and 90s.

I decide to go back towards Cuba Street, the pub hub of the city. Walking along the main shopping street, I notice a poster of a comely woman in a bathtub. ‘Care to join me?’ it says. This ‘Gentlemen’s Club’ is professionally presented so that it fits in perfectly with its other more conventional commercial outlet neighbours. Not that I go in, I hasten to add.

Later, I meet up with Caz and Mary to get an Indian Kiwi curry, which is comparable to the standard fare you would get in the UK.

Day 253 – 11 April 2010: a boar in Marlborough Sound...gutted

In the queue to get on the ferry, we notice a pick-up truck with some dogs in its bay overlooking a dead boar tied onto the open bay door. When we board the ferry we are parked directly behind it, which is a bit too close for Mary and Caz’s comfort. We can see that the boar has been gutted. This definitely wouldn’t be allowed onto the Dover to Calais ferry.

The ferry trip is due to last three and a half hours, but two hours of this is spent negotiating the Marlborough Sounds. Predictably, and it is my boring duty to report, it is very beautiful. The Lord of the Rings films have done much to publicise the beauty of this country. My wonder is, what took Hollywood so long?

Once we get out of the sounds, the wind gusts over the deck and I have to hold onto my hat. It would be great to be on a sail boat crossing this channel.

In Wellington, we go to Wellywood Backpackers Hostel on Tory Street. Already we can note the difference between the North and the South. Parking in Wellington is a problem. On Sundays, parking on the street is free, but I will have to get up tomorrow morning to move Olive to a car park which costs $10 a day, and I will then have to move her back on the street for the evening.

The hostel is comfortable enough with a large communal area taking up the whole of the fourth floor. However, there are a lot of younger backpackers here, so I feel a bit old.

There seems to be a bit of an indie music scene in Wellington. A club up Tory Street has some bands on in the evening, though I am too tired to go out after having a few ciders at a pub on Cuba Street where I watch people pass by.