Auckland to Waipoua Kauri Forest
Cathedral Cove to Tongariro National Park

Photos:

• Kaikoura to Pancake Rocks
• Fox Glacier to Christchurch |1 |2
• Wwoof (Willing workers on organic farms) : April 12-April 30,2006
• Milford Sound : April 6-8, 2006 |1 |2

We are under the land down under.

Our arrival in Auckland, coincided with Hurtie's arrival; a cyclone bearing down from Australia. The driving rains, 200kph/ 125mph winds, downed trees and power outages could not deter us from seeing the country we had long awaited to gaze upon. Actually, they could, but after a few relatively minor arguments we decided to press on.

Our original plan was to buy a "bomb" (junk box on wheels) that we could live out of and try to sell before we left. We threw those plans out the window about five minutes after landing in the Auckland airport. While gathering some maps and brochures at the information center, we were approached by the owner of a campervan company. He had a campervan that he needed to get to Christchurch within the next nineteen days. After dotting a few "i"'s and crossing a few "t"'s, we were driving away in a four person campervan at a third of the normal price with our ferry passage paid for. He neglected to mention that everyone drives on the wrong side of the road in New Zealand and all the cars have the same manufacturers defect which involves the steering wheels being placed on the right (wrong) side of the cars. These factors seem manageable until you factor in the high winds, low visibility and then arrive at one of the many round-a-bouts that seem to pop up out of nowhere and are expected to merge to the left. Whoever heard of such craziness? We were equipped with all the comforts of home including a sink, stove, refrigerator, toilet, shower and two sleeping areas, which comes in handy after listening to countless hours of backseat driving, from a particular person (female) that will remain nameless.

Our road trip began on the North Island in the City of Sails, Auckland. After loading up on provisions we toured around Goat Island, Bay of Islands, Waitangi National Reserve (where the Maori signed the Treaty of Waitangi with the British in 1840), Doubtless Bay and Hokianga Harbour. We strolled through Waipoua Kauri Forest (contains 3/4 of the remaining Kauri trees in New Zealand, which had been logged for ships masts in the 19th century), bathed in the thermal hot baths at Hot Water Beach and meandered through Cathedral Cove (enormous limestone arch).

On our way to Rotorua, a city that smells so much like rotting eggs that its nickname is "Sulfur City" (they claim it has to do with hot springs and geysers spewing out noxious sulfurous gas, but we are pretty sure it is rotting eggs), our three and a half horsepower campervan strained under the weight of our backpacks with the RPM's flirting with the red zone, spewing out black smoke, chugging up yet another winding hill sputtering, "I think I can, I think I can". As we struggled to roll over the crest of the hill, we heard a loud, "BANG!". We ruled out hostile fire immediately because everyone from New Zealand seemed quite friendly, even towards American tourists. Backfire seemed a logical explanation until the campervan started wobbling side to side. In the time it took us to pull over, put the hazard lights on and apply the emergency brake, a kind Kiwi had pulled over and asked us if we needed any help. After explaining he had been a race car driver and could change a tire in no time flat, he and Matt began jacking up the van and removing lug nuts. Unfortunately, we blew not one but two tires and we had two spares of questionable quality. The sun had set and the road was dark as the mini RV hovered in the air on a Fisher Price jack when we came to the realization that we did not have the necessary tools to release the second spare. Enter kind Kiwi number two. This man pulls up in his truck loaded full with his family asking if we needed any additional help. After explaining our situation, he says, "No worries. I will run back to my farm and fix you up a tool and be back in a few minutes". Less than ten minutes later, he returned with a tool he had just welded in his garage which could not have worked better to release the spare. In the time it took us to put on the second spare, Tom, kind Kiwi number two, had invited us to sleep in his guestroom and asked if we had eaten any dinner. Before we had a chance to answer, he was phoning his wife to set two more plates for dinner.

As our home on wheels hobbled to a stop in their driveway, we were greeted at the door by Tom's lovely wife, Chris. She guided us into their home, introduced us to their daughter, Libby and before we knew it we were sprawled out on their couch sipping on some fantastic New Zealand beer, throwing back some macadamia nuts and exchanging life stories and travel exploits. After a fantastic dinner, they pointed us in the direction of the showers and invited us to do our laundry as well (this was obviously a not-so-subtle hint). The next morning, after breakfast, we were given a tour of their orchards, where Tom proceeded to pick and stuff a bag for us full of their avocados, oranges, lemons and walnuts. We were invited to stay another night for a New Zealand BBQ. In fact, they invited us to stay as long as we liked with the potential of getting some work picking kiwis on the local farms. We hesitantly declined because of our need to get the campervan to the South Island.

We are not certain if Tom and Chris confused us for long lost relatives who recently won the lottery, but regardless, their kindness and generosity was overwhelming, unexpected and enormously appreciated. We have never felt so fortunate to get a flat tire. In response to our question of what we could do to repay them for their kindness, they replied, "Enjoy your travels in New Zealand and come back and visit soon".

Where do we apply for dual citizenship?

After a quick stop to have our tires repaired, we made a brief visit to "Sulfur City" to make certain the "thermal pools" were not actually enormous vats of egg salad gone bad. Once our scientific research was completed there, we decided to press on to Tongariro National Park, of Lord of the Rings fame. The Tongariro Crossing is a full day tramp with fantastic views. A word about tramps...:

In order to avoid Matt's mother from sending out a chaperon and Jen's father from sending out a hit-man, let us assure you that the tramp we are talking about is far less promiscuous than the one you are thinking about, although it would make for a much more exciting and adventurous walk in the woods . Americans say "hiking", Europeans say "trekking" and Kiwis say "tramping". We just think they have a good sense of humor.

Mordor's Mt. Doom (Mt. Ngauruhoe), a single vent volcano, has spectacular colors surrounding it that seem to beckon you towards the summit for a closer look,... unless you are lazy like us and you can just walk around it. A bit further along the Crossing we reached the Emerald Lakes. True to their name, their emerald color seems to deceive the eyes. All the tourists gathered around in breathless appreciation of the stunning view of these magical pools. It is conceivable that the tramp up the side of the mountain may have contributed to this breathless experience as well, but why destroy your first impression?

With no sign of Mordor, Frodo, Golum or any other of the cast of characters from some obscure movie we have heard about, we made our way to Wellington for a sound night sleep at the ferry terminal in order to catch an early morning ferry across Cook Strait to the South Island of New Zealand.

The three hour crossing of Cook Straight from North Island to South Island was exceptionally tranquil and scenic with dolphins racing along side of the ferry as we weaved around the tiny islands around Picton. We made our way south down the east coast to the underwater wonderland of Kaikoura. Looking forward to swimming with the dolphins and penguins, shooting endlessly at the orcas, pilot and sperm whales with our 35mm, we eagerly inquired at the tourist information center where we needed to sign up. Upon learning the prohibitively expensive costs of these activities, we decided it would be economically more feasible to buy a goldfish, name it Flipper, throw it in the bath tub, put on the Little Mermaid DVD, don a mask and snorkel and jump in.

Although we didn't see any sperm whales breeching, orcas devouring defenseless furry baby seals or bottlenose dolphins torpedoing themselves thirty feet above the suface of the ocean, we did see several penguin crossing signs. Slightly depressed, we parked the campervan on the beach for the night. We awoke the next day surrounded by an extended family of seals basking and barking in the morning sun.

Satisfied we were granted a modest marine animal experience, we headed north to the wine country town of Blenheim to drown our sorrows in some fermented grapes, with the understanding that it had to be after 12:00pm somewhere in the world. We proceeded enthusiastically with wine, liquor and olive oil tastings. Breakfast of champions. Plenty of fruits and grains.

Considering our slighly impaired condition, we thought it would be a perfect opportunity to sprawl out (pass out) on a fluffy patch of grass while consuming large quantities of alcohol absorbing starches and watching the slighly perplexing game of rugby.

As we made our way down the west coast we stopped in Punakaiki to ponder over the process of of stylobedding while peering at the Pancake Rocks and the numerous blow holes. The blow holes where a bit underwhelming at low tide so we decided to hang around until the tide rolled in. We should have left before it was too late, but alas, we did not. During our second walk through, Matt's beloved Boston Red Sox hat, which had been broken in to the point of perfection, was ripped from his mangy locks by an unforgiving blast of wind from the Yankee north. He fears this may be a bad omen, but we are not allowed to talk of such things.

Surrounded by cascading waterfalls in the midst of lush rain forest lies the Franz Josef and Fox Glaciers. They are, however, not actually just lying there. They are advancing between 1-5 meters/day and retreating. As fact has it, all glaciers are advancing. When the ice melts more rapidly than the advancing glacier, it gives the appearance that the glacier is retreating. We just thought you should know that.

After frolicking about Franz and Fox we meandered over to Lake Matheson to absorb the spectacular views of Mt.Cook and Mt. Tasman reflecting their beauty and granduer off the placid water. The powers of reflection wane a bit with cloud filled skies, blusterly winds and persistant trickeling rain. After devoting a sunset and sunrise there hoping to catch a glimpse of the mountain range, we had to move on with only a fleeting glance of Mount Cook poking through the clouds before more clouds rolled in. We will have to by the postcard.

Winding our way through the Southern Alps, we arrived at the outdoor adrenaline capital of the world, Queenstown, resting on the northern shores of Lake Wakatipu. Bungy jumping, skydiving, canyoning, jet boating, white water rafting, sledging, rock climbing, mountain biking...they have it all. Basically, any outdoor activity ending "ing" can be done here...with a fat enough wallet, or at least a few credit cards.