south to dunedin, road trip part one

Dunedin was always my end goal. When poor little Hetty died on the side of the road back in the Northland, I wasn’t too sure about how I would get south. But, as you all know from the Northland road trip stories (one and two), I ended up renting a car because I was so. ready. to. leave. town.

16 May

We pick up the story in Auckland, where I met back up with Bob, from Far North Rentals, and returned the zippy little Honda Fit to him in exchange for a rental car from Ezi Rentals. Let me just say that they are *not* ezi to work with and I likely won’t be renting a car from them again. Except I liked the Wellington office boys. But in Auckland, oh calamity I had problems.

I only spent a day in the city, mostly trying to avoid crowds and wonder how the hell I got into this city in the first place. I found a little pocket of the city that I liked – Ponsonby – and that made me dislike Auckland just a little bit less, but its still not on my list of favourite cities. I also met Tim Reid, a Southern World guy that Katie hooked me up with. We chatted for a while about tourism in New Zealand and about our mutual love of wine before parting ways, me to a sushi dinner and him to a Virtuoso event. In the morning, I wandered down to Ponsonby to get coffee and explore this pocket of Auckland that I’ve missed every other time.

I loved it.

After returning my rental car to Bob, he dropped me at Ezi Car Rentals for my new rental car. I sadly can’t say many good things about this. I had an email in which I was offered a 10% discount and I told the woman helping me about it before she printed anything. She nodded distractingly, and I assumed it was good. Before signing the paperwork, I asked about it again and was assured that it was taken care of.

I step back to wait on my car and about fifteen minutes later, they called me back over. Seems they couldn’t find my keys so they had to reprint the paperwork and I needed to resign it. This time I looked over the paperwork and didn’t see the 10% discount so I asked about it again. A third time. This time, the woman went over to someone and said something in an undertone. The second woman appeared and asked me – quite condescendingly – where I thought I was getting a discount from. I showed her the email, and explained that they were offering 10% discounts to their Facebook fans. As she was reprinting my paperwork AGAIN, she said that “in the future, you should tell us about this before we do the work.” And I very politely said that I fucking had.

Anyway, I got my car and off I went toward Rotorua. This drive. Oh, this drive.

There was nothing special about most of it – the motorway out toward Hamilton, highway 2 toward Tauranga. And then, somewhere near Matamata, all hell broke loose. This was the weirdest drive of my life and I’m still a little freaked out by it.

I was happily driving along in the semi-post-rain, billowing grey clouds off to the east, lighter grey clouds to the west, when I passed a sign for the Fitzgerald Glade. I make a mention of it because I want you to know exactly where I was when I thought the dementors had got me.

The glade was ahead of me, a narrow opening in the trees into which the road disappeared. Pines grew on either side. Above me, the sky was a light grey, the worst of the rain past. In my rearview mirror, the sunset grew a brighter orange. I entered the glade and marvelled at the darkness of the forest. I left the forest on the far side into pea soup thick fog. I cannot tell you where it came from. I cannot tell you where it went. I cannot tell you anything else other than it was beyond strange.

There had been no indication of fog until that moment I left the glade. I didn’t climb higher into the mountain or drop deep into a valley. I did sense that I had gone through a tunnel – even though I actually hadn’t – and was now on the far side of a mountain near to Te Urewera. If you do not know of Te Urewera, let me tell you the legend. It’s a vast remote region in the North Island, vaguely between Whakatane, Rotorua, Lake Waikaremoana, Ikawhenua, and Maungapohatu. Being so remote, and only slightly menacing, the Maori tribes here were left primarily untouched by the British colonialists. The Tuhoe tribe is widely known for their claims of Maori sovereignty. Dense forests, unsealed roads, and only one major highway cut through this immense portion of the North Island and I was convinced I was here.

I arrived in Rotorua later in the evening and got checked into my hostel. I went in search of a grocery store and made dinner. I’d been going to bed super early for most of my road trip, save a night with Rob and that horrible night in Piha.

17 May

The next morning, I woke up early and set off for the Redwood forest.It was easy to find, towering trees of red bark and dark green canopies. I wandered there for almost two hours, hiking through the memorial glade first and then a longer trek up to the quarry and back down to the park entrance. There is a canopy tour; I wasn’t prepared to pay for it, but it looked pretty cool. From there, I drove out to the Waimangu Volcanic Valley. This was impressive. By far one of my best sights thus far.

It’s about a two hour walk into the valley. At the end of the hike, you can either walk back up (yeah, right) or catch the bus that runs every forty minutes. I picked up my guidebook from the visitors centre and set off down the track.

In June 1886, Mount Tarawera erupted. This eruption caused the Waimanugu Rift Valley, a 17km long valley, at the end of the which is where I hiked. The volcano itself is across Lake Rotomahana and from the upper edges of the hike you can see across to where the famous Pink and White Terraces once were. In the 1890s, hydrothermal activity began in the area, although prior to the eruption there had been no evidence of activity.

The hike takes you past the Southern Crater, Echo Crater, and Inferno Crater, as well as – in an optional walk up Mount Haszard – the Fairy Crater and Black Crater. If you’ve never seen a geothermal pool before, this would look like a landscape from a post-apocalyptic film. Steam rises from all the craters, from all the lakes, from holes in the ground surrounded by green and orange rocks. White terraces – silica – coat entire portions of the valley. Steam rises from everything.

There were very few other people there. For a while, I walked concurrently with another couple but I took the Mount Haszard route while they returned to the main track.

In Echo Crater, I stared at Frying Pan Lake, aptly named as it resembles a large steaming frying pan complete with a handle. The temperature in this acidic water can reach 55• C (131• F).

I walked along the streamside and then climbed up the steps to the Inferno Crater. The silica lines the entire cauldron and the ice blue water at first appears to be ice cold. Its not. Its temperature ranges between 35• and 80• C (95•-176• F). It is also highly acidic and is home to the largest geyser-like feature in the world… unfortunately that feature is at the bottom of the 30 m deep pool and unseen. I could, however, see fumaroles on the surface of the water. Interestingly, the levels of Inferno Crater Lake and Frying Pan Lake and the overflow stream are cyclically interconnected. As the levels in the crater lake rise, the levels below decrease. This hydrothermal phenomenon is not known anywhere else in the world. It was very cool to see and I wish I could have spent more time there.

However, I felt like spoiling myself after a two hour hike (I’m really good at giving reasons for this) so off I went to the Polynesian Spa in town. This is by far one of the most famous hot springs in the world – up there with the Blue Lagoon in Iceland. Busloads of tourists come here. And since I’d just explored the Ngawha Springs the week before, I thought, well, I’m here, I may as well give it a try. I booked an Aix spa treatment and went in early to take advantage of the private outdoor hot pools. My favourite was the Priests Spa, so-named because of the supposed healing powers. It had a pale blue tinge to it unlike any of the other pools in the area.

I spent almost four hours at the pools before taking my weary, tired body back to the hostel for a late dinner and some wine. I had a busy day ahead of me the next day and I wanted to be prepared.

18 May

Another phenomenal day. I was up and out early – I had two places to check out before finally leaving the geothermal wonders behind and driving across the country to New Plymouth. The first was the Wai-o-tapu Thermal Pools – one of the natural wonders of the world. This is home to the famous Champagne Pool, Devils Bath, Mud Pools, and Lady Knox Geyser.

My first stop was the mud pools. It started raining here, so by the time I pulled into the parking lot at the main entrance, I had made the decision to wear my rain gear. Wise choice. I was the only person at the mud pools, and it was deceiving how calm they looked. In my mind, they were thick, bubbly mud that would probably be great for my skin. In reality, they’re steaming hot and very dangerous. To watch mud boil is an impressive sight, though, and found in a lot of places in this region of NZ. Honestly, the geothermal activity here probably only heightens the mystique surrounding Te Urewera and the Maori tribes.

Anyway, I bought my ticket for the Geothermal Wonderland and stepped out into the rain… right behind a very slow-moving, picture-taking, in-my-way, family. In fact, when I finally passed them and stopped at the edge of a thermal pool to take a photo myself, they promptly stepped in front of me to take their own. I was so over it, I had to distance myself as quickly as possible so I didn’t sling some rather offensive words in their direction. I headed off into the wilderness that is the Geothermal Wonderland. I passed craters filled with gorgeous colours, even in the rain. I walked across the boardwalk at the Champagne Pool and climbed out of the crater on the far side to explore the further reaches of the park.

Alone and in the rain, my mind kept wandering to “what if…?” What if there was an eruption here and now? What would happen? These have long been dormant volcanoes, but what if? Mt Ruapehu, only 200 km away, was under an eruption warning that week. It was a fleeting thought.

I explored every inch of that park. I loved it. On my return to the Champagne Pool, I went live on Facebook to share it with my friends.

My last stop in the Rotorua area was a place that I definitely plan on going back to: the hot springs creek. This is not relatively unknown, since its mentioned in the guide books, but I had to go anyway. I drove down a tiny one-lane, unsealed, very pot-holey road and parked on the side of the road. A narrow pathway leads you out there through the muddy creek , but once there its heaven. There was a couple in the water and I passed one older man leaving. I was about to climb back into the car for a long road trip so I didn’t want to get in and smell like sulphur, but I did wade through it to warm my toes up.

 

*Side note – there are a LOT of other geothermal things in the Rotorua area, and I only made it to a few… definitely check out some of the others if you are in the area and have time*

I left Rotorua behind and headed west. The road was small and winding, through gorges and valleys, along mountainsides and cliffs. I crossed rolling hills in the Waikato and went through tiny towns with nothing more than a petrol station. When I hit the coast, I was also hit with insane wind gusts. The rolling waves of the west coast were before me once again and you all know how I love those waves. The cliffs in the distance were chalky white, a reminder of England’s Dover Cliffs, and the surf relentlessly pounded the beach.

I made one unplanned stop to find the Three Sisters, but the tide was coming in and I didn’t want to get stuck out there… so I’ll save that for another day. I passed through more small towns and then hit the motorway outside New Plymouth. Traffic ground to a halt in the rush hour and I crawled along listening to my phone inform me “in five hundred metres turn left,” “in four hundred metres turn left,” every. single. minute.

Soon I was pulling up to the hostel where Dan and I were set to meet. We found rooms, went and bought groceries, and made ourselves a nice pizza dinner. We started chatting with two girls who had been through Paihia while we lived there – we didn’t know them – and talked about various things we had all done in New Zealand. We also broke out the Monopoly game, but that lasted only until one of us bought the last property and then we said screw it.

For details on our Mount Taranaki hike, read this post.

After Dan and I returned from the hike, we set off for lunch and a short exploration of town – in the rain. So, instead, after lunch, we headed out to Mike’s Brewery, a local brewery about twenty minutes outside of town. We each picked some beers to taste and sat in their barn like space enjoying them. The rain cleared while we were here. After a leisurely beer tasting, it was time for wine. There’s an award-winning fruit wine winery close to town, so that’s where we went.

I’m not sure I’d ever had fruit wine before, but I can tell you that it was interesting and delicious. We sampled feijoa and kiwi wines, boysenberry (my favourite) and some dark fruit red blends. Dan sampled their two gins as well, him being somewhat of a gin fan, and proclaimed them delicious too. We had a great conversation with Steve, the owner, over the wines and when we asked how much we owed him, he waved it off. So, huge thanks, Steve, because that was a great experience and yummy wines.

That night I kicked Dan’s butt in Scrabble. Thanks, Mom, for my competitive streak!

The following morning we went our separate ways – me to Wellington and Dan across to the east cape.

It was a long drive to Wellington and it was made worse by the threat of horrible weather. Luckily, I never did see any of that except upon arrival into the city. I stopped in Stratford for coffee and some writing and in Wanganui for lunch and groceries, but otherwise I made the five hour drive straight. I cruised easily along the Kapiti coast, wound my way through the hills outside of Wellington and entered the city just after rush hour. I picked up the keys from Paul and headed for his house, intending to take a hot shower and unpack the car. Instead, I went and met Ryan for a drink and a catch up at Monterey, this great little bar in Newtown.

I have always loved Wellington, from the first moment I laid eyes on it from the air eight months ago. The city embraced me and all its little quirks captured my heart.

But it was weird to be back.

I felt like a stranger, even though I knew all the little back alleys and the tiny coffee shops. I avoided certain places that I had loved back when I lived there, maybe out of fear that they wouldn’t be the same? That they wouldn’t remember me?

Paul was on call for the weekend so we didn’t get a chance to do much together, but we did find time to hit Baobab for brunch on Sunday. This funky cafe is in the heart of Newtown and every single piece of food + coffee is to die for.

The rain started while we were walking back toward the house and came down in sheets for the rest of the afternoon. Taylor and Tobyn picked me up from Paul’s and we went in search of our last night of accommodation on the North Island. We ended up at Downtown Backpackers, on Bunny Street across from the train station. The next morning, I spent time at the library before meeting up with my last person in Wellington – Ray. He took me to Lamason on Lombard/Bond Streets before I headed back to meet T&T… to leave the North Island.

Stay tuned for part two of this most spectacular road trip adventure… I’ll give you a sneak peek…

“…in front of us, the waves surged toward the shore, crashing only metres from where we were parked. Behind us, the mountains rose up, cloaked in the season’s first snow, their white peaks shining in the full moon light.”

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