Dear my gallant followers,
After several towns, hostels and internet cafes, I finally found one reckless enough to allow customers to upload data and have taken full advantage to provide you all with a respite from the tedium of reading those ugly and clunky things called letters. I hope the photos are to your liking.
After two and a half weeks of travelling, I have now completed my tour of the North Island and find myself in Wellington for two days before jumping ship and heading southward. Given I’ll be spending the next week in remote National Parks, I thought I’d give you all a double helping and let you indulge not only in a visual guide to the North Island but also serve you with a dollop of textual gastronomy.
Let me take you back a week today and we find ourselves looking at a rather lost Englishman weighed down by two rucksacks, walking between three bus stops, all within one hundred metres of each other, all of which could be the one he needs to wait at and none of which, that are thoughtful enough to put a sign and clarify which might be so. But alas! As you will see, my fellow flies-on-the-wall, there now begins to emerge several other similarly laden people, performing the same ritual as this handsome-yet-clueless Englishman. After all perform the customary three stop check, dumfoundedly search in their bags and folders for answers and repeat their initial check over of all the local bus stops, we can observe the first glimpse of eye contact, of social contact and yes, there you have it folks, they are discussing, using the value-added powers of companionship and have decided where to stand in wait. David Attenborough eat your heart out.
There were fifteen or so of us that finally gathered at what proved to be the correct bus stop and by early morning, we were heading south from Auckland to begin our tour of the North Island. The first day we travelled to Cathedral Cove, where with the fine company of a blonde long-haired German, I took the afternoon to sea-kayak the surrounding coves and coastal cave-networks. After a few hours in the water, we returned to the hostel for dinner before heading to Hot Water Beaches for midnight low-tide. Now for all you geographers, careful not to get too excited by this geomorphological action you’re about to be introduced to. Due to a series of isolated geothermal pockets, there exists a patch of beach in the North Island where one can dig a hole and be rewarded with a pool of bath-like water in which to bathe. It really does seem like the perfect way to spend an evening, sat on a beach, in a geothermal hot tub, with the ocean quite literally at your toes. But with all things in life, the reality is never quite how you imagine it. Instead of a relaxing few hours spent in the hot water pools, I spent my time endlessly digging (the sides of course collapsing after several wave fronts) and burning my feet doing so, since the water is quite literally boiling. What one is meant to do, is build a person sized hole (which would taking bloody ages), fill the pool with boiling water (where you will, and I stress, you will most definitely will, burn your feet beyond any measurable level of fun) and then carefully dig trenches to encourage several washes of cool sea-water to vary the water to the desired temperature (which I will also point out, is, damn-right impossible). After two hours of miserably failing at all of the above stages, I resolved to return to the hostel, drink with everyone else that came to similar conclusions as me and stare at the glowing redness of my feet.
The next day, we headed to Waitomo, where the astute few of you will match the caving pictures to. After donning a seven millimeter wetsuit, a harness, helmet and some abseiling gear, we descended 250 ft vertically into the cave networks. Again, for all you geography enthusiasts (and yes that’s you Rosie Wallace), put down any hot drinks, sit up tall and listen to the wonders of limestone caves. Briefly put, a few millions years of rainfall has steadily reacted with the permeable and soluble limestone rock beneath the green grasses of Waitomo. Steadily but surely, it has carved a series of caves deep into the underlying rock and with the invention of abseiling, someone with a brain for business and a few backpackers reckless enough to jump down into them, we found ourselves deep inside the pitch-black cave networks in freezing cold waters, climbing underground waterfalls, jumping off cliffs and tubing the toe-numbingly cold waters. But, what makes these cave systems unique is that they are in fact not pitch-black. In truth, they are reasonably well-lit and not because of any man-made device but rather due to the wonders of biology, digestion and poo. The caves’ ceilings are covered with bioluminescent glow-worms, painting a star-lit night’s sky and lighting the cave by an astonishing amount. These glow-worms (actually glow-maggots – the name changed to increase greater visitor sales), emit a blue-green light as a result of a protein digestive enzyme. They shine and illuminate the cave for nine months before pupating into flies where they mate for fourty-eight hours, climaxing with both partners starving themselves to death, falling to the waters in a loving embrace. Given the male fly’s genitalia makes up fifty percent of his entire body weight and that he spends his entire adult life meeting all of his mates’ wants and needs, this particularly fly has been locally nick-named as ‘the perfect boyfriend’… go figure.
After an evening warming up from the day’s adventure, I jumped back on the bus and have continued my North Island tour in Rotorua, a town with the amiable attraction of smelling throughout of the sulphur pools that surround it, Lake Taupo, which I must tell you is one of the most beautiful locations in New Zealand, Tongariro National Park where I had a rather awe-inspiring day climbing Mt. Doom and a day in River Valley rafting the grade five white waters that carve their way through the green and plush sheep-covered hills.
Right now I’m in Wellington where I have today and tomorrow to see Parliament, a few museums and get my cultural fix before heading across the waters for two and half weeks in the dramatic and inspiring wilderness of the South Island. I’ll do my best to keep up the photos and keep all you lovely lot informed with all that’s happening, on this somewhat warmer side of the world.
Kia ora & all the best,
‘til next time.
