Orakei, Auckland 1071
New Zealand
In spite of the drizzly weather, we headed out for a few short tramps on Sunday making our way into the Coromandel Forest Park and walking out to Cathedral Cove, a wonderful sandstone arch cut by the wave and erosion. Nearby there was also a nice beach and a small natural waterfall, which made a perfect shower. I’ll have to come back again in the summer—with a towel in hand—to more fully appreciate the cove’s grandeur. I have heard of some spectacular sea kayaking in this area as well, which I would enjoy checking out.
What students will do for good fun… A 08:30 am low tide at Hot Water Beach near Hahei, along with some load noises, and the lights turning on at 06:30 motivated us all to get us early and head north from our batch (kiwi slang for a vacation house) in Tairua. Hot Water Beach is quite unique. Here 60 degree C water comes through fissures in the earth, emerging right on the beach. A hole, properly dug and protected by a small wall to protect it from incoming seawater, will act as a exceptional natural hot tub. Even though we arrived at Hot Water Beach at the perfect time, just before low tide, Poseidon was frowning. All the bad weather had kicked up quite some large surf as well and rogue waves would randomly come dissolve the walls I worked frantically to construct around our hot water spring. The work was futile and after an hour of struggling, I simply gave up and plopped down in my little puddle accepting that fact that every now and again a cold wave would come lapping up on me and spin me around. It was still great fun however—a geologically power experience I will not soon forget.
Tonight I invited two of my good friends, Marcel and Soren, over to my apartment for a nice Mexican dinner. Though I have been cooking quite a bit to eat healthy and save some money, I have not had Mexican food since arriving in Kiwiland. To amend this, I made tacos with all the staples: seasoned beef, refried beans, lettuce, tomato, salsa, sour cream, grated cheese—absolutely delicious. So good in fact, that we have concluded to make it a weekly event. It is very nice to be able to hang out with friends, share good food, and engage in fine conversation. Till next time—remember don’t forget the spice.
In comparison Saturday proved far more mundane, reaching its peak level of excitement when I opened my mailbox to find a new installment of New Zealand postage stamps. As many of you know, I am an avid philatelist and became engrossed with the intricate details of a colorful series of Sir Edmond Hillary commemoratives and two round kiwi stamps with a very fine combination of monotone simplicity, symbolism, and beauty.
Sunday morning I arose early, packed my rucksack, and headed to the ferry wharf where Eugene was waiting with tickets to Waiheke Island. Waiheke Island, located to the east of Auckland in Hauaki Gulf, is the home to a sublime countryside cloaked in numerous vineyards and sheep fields. I asked Peter from “the bike shed,” where we rented our mountain bikes for the day, what he liked about Waiheke Island. After revealing I was from Alaska, Peter explained “Waiheke is a mix of Madison and Anchorage. It has the feel of small town USA and the grandeur of Alaska—all circa 1960.” After spending a day on the island, biking nearly forty miles of its long, winding, and steeply graded roads, after gazing over its brilliantly green, grass covered hillsides and glittering gold beaches; I can confidently say there is very little on Waiheke Island that reminds me of Alaska. It is beautiful none-the-less. On our travels, Eugene and I passed dozens of vineyards, countless sheep, and even climbed into a very large rock garden topping a knobby hill. During the circumnavigation of the island, I saw tropical birds, pheasants, and a giant, painted rock appearing to be a ravenous ogre. I made sure to avoid him while stopping at a wine store just before departing the island to pick up a bottle of the local specialty, which I plan on saving for a very special occasion.
Until then I wish you a great week.
Please check out the google.map “Erik’s NZ Adventures” where I have geo-tagged the locations of all my past kiwi trips and digitized my biking and trekking routes at the following site provided by clicking on the map to the top right or the text at the bottom of this website.When we arrived at around midnight on Friday the weather was not promising, blowing a highly inconsistent mixture of snow and rain, which proved bitterly chilling. Saturday morning only proved worse—horizontal rain. Most of the skiers (myself included) decided to wait it out. We spent the day in the lodge making friends and swapping stories. The sun cast brightly through the windows when we woke up Sunday morning. In record speed I managed to get dressed, eat, buy a lift ticket (84 NZD = approx 55 USD), hire rental gear and make it up the mountain just as they were opening up the quad. The first few runs were glorious and the snow felt like spring corn. The experience of skiing on active volcano, with igneous rocks jutting out all around you is quite impressive. For all the Lord of the Rings fans out there, Mount Ruapehu is what director Stephen Jackson chose for Mount Doom in the film). I managed a few black-diamond off-piste runs before the clouds moved in again, around noon, and reduced visibility to a stone’s throw at times. Most skiers gave up and called it a day, but a few of my intrepid friends and I stuck it out and skied till 4 PM, when the cumulative effective of the wind beating pellets of snow and hail on our faces for hours, minimal visibility, and deteriorating snow conditions forced us in. After cleaning up the lodge and fixing a flat tire, we were ready for the return trip to Auckland in which my travel speakers blasting out a continuous stream of Bon Jovi, Chili Peppers, and Dave Matthews Band saved the day.
Even though the aggregate weather was sub-prime, the camaraderie of the trip was excellent and I consider myself lucky to have been afforded this spectacular opportunity. After all—how many people do get to ski in August?
Setting out under clear skies with a strong breeze, the sailing proved quite enjoyable, though notably less rigorous than I had anticipated. Yet, the saying “in New Zealand you can experience four seasons in one day” also proved true as the warm summer-esque weather broke with an incoming front becoming markedly colder and down pouring rain, a change, which occurred in a matter of mere minutes. I was ready though with warm cloths, a ski hat, and gloves on hand. The sea gods did not particularly approve of the combination of my ski hat and army baseball cap however and the latter was snatched off my head with a heavy gust of wind. It now resides at the bottom of Motukorea Channel amongst many other seafarers’ former treasures. Though our yacht, carrying a spare outboard motor and barbecue, was not as fast some of the lighter racers, we quite contently finished in the middle of the pack and capped off our day in true sailors fashion with a shot of rum. Though I found sailing quite enjoyable, particularly in favorable weather, I still think a drift boat may have it beat on my personal desirability chart…
On Saturday morning I headed south out of town with a few members of the tramping club (think hiking) to May Camp. We reached camp by noon and went for a short walk though the Korehangehape Gorge (I may have butchered this name as I don’t have map sheet in front of me). This area is an old mining region established just over a century ago and includes a sizeable tunnel blasted through the canyon wall, which trampers are now able to hike though. The route, though short, was quite scenic first following the stream, then crossing through the tunnel (nearly one kilometer long) and emerging in the dense New Zealand sub-tropical forest. Once back at camp, I was able to meet many other trampers and share a festive evening including among other events, playing on the local playground (which included a quite impressive “flying fox” or “slide for life” we in America often call it), sharing a large pasta dinner, and dancing in the local War Memorial Hall.
Sunday morning we cleaned up from the previous nights festivities and headed out on another tramp. This time we penetrated much deeper into the dense kiwi forests. I was quite impressed when we finally ran into a kauri tree, which I had been hearing a great deal about. In one word, Kauri trees are MASSIVE! Up to 3 meters in diameter and living up to 1500 years, kauris are straight as a rod, with little to no taper as they ascend the canopy. The hardwood is quite good for carving and for this very reason, kauris were heavily harvested up until the 1950s, when they finally obtained expansive protection. The two hour walk in, which as I have found typical for NZ included many stream crossings and little hope of keeping your boots dry, was completely worth seeing these few mighty and beautiful trees. Unfortunately, I did not manage to get any good pictures, but I promise you them in an future post. Cheers…