Around The World In 80 Waves

After a fantastic few days with Kathleen in Sydney, her responsibilities mean that she needs to get back home to Lismore, so I escort her back to the airport grabbing this picture on the way. It has been nearly 25 years since we last saw one another, but we have had a great time together and will be seeing each other again when I go north to surf the beaches close to Byron Bay later in my stay in Australia.

On my way back to Adam and Rosanna’s place I buy the new laptop and mobile phone which I have been using to catch up on this blog since my old hardware finally threw in the towel in Tahiti. I don’t want to labour this point too much because nobody cares about anybody else’s IT woes but ever since that time to when I write this, which is nearly a month, I have been turning the air blue with expletives and tearing my hair out.

Adam and Rosanna (who I seem to have failed to take a picture of to this point, so here is their wedding photo instead) have been incredibly patient since then as I rant and rave from their spare room.

It turned out that the first Windows 8 computer I had been given was actually defective, but the second one I was given after wasting a week on that was really little better and given that I am a Microsoft certified technician with the skills to rebuild computers entirely I should be able to run with this far easier than most.

I am staggered at how bad the product is that Bill Gates’ successors have brought to the market. If you are thinking of buying one may I recommend highly that you dont until the updates and service packs mean it is much more stable.

Another buddy Neil who has since spent time with me has said that he wouldn’t believe the number of problems that I have had if he hadn’t seen them for himself.

I am thinking of recommending Windows 8 to the CIA as a replacement technique for water-boarding to elicit information from terrorists and such like. However it would be such a cruel and barbaric treatment that I’m not sure I could sanction such brutality.

The weather here has also been appaling. By all accounts I have arrived during the wettest month in 6 years and I am reminded about being without my waterproof jacket almost daily. Generally this in the form of another drenching so I am not overly keen to go out much.

The upshot of all this is that I don’t do a great deal upon arriving in Sydney. However it hasn’t been the least bit relaxing. The only way is up from here!

Upon landing at Sydney airport I was met by an old school friend of mine called Kathleen, which is by far the best arrival I have had in any of the countries I have visited to date. Kathleen has joined me in Sydney for a few days to come and see the sights.

The two of us are collected from the airport by an old flat mate of mine from London called Adam who has returned to Australia to continue practising law and marry his lovely wife Rosanna, who is also a lawyer. I am lucky enough to have been offered a place to stay for the whole of the Australian leg of my travels in their house in North Sydney, which is just over the harbour bridge from the centre of the city

We spend the next few days being driven around, and generally being spoon fed the lay of the land. After more than six months of constantly being lost, and trying to find my way to safety in languages not my own I can’t tell you what a relief this is.

I have previously mentioned how shattered I was by this stage, and cannot stress too much that I really was running on empty by the time I arrived, so this was exactly what I needed.

On one of the days we take a stroll down to Luna Park on the north end of the bridge to catch a ferry across the harbour, during which I get these photos.

By Sydney’s standards it is apparently freezing, but given it is still nearly 20 C during the day I am loving the weather. We get excited as soon as it gets warmer than 15 C in the UK!

It is quite cold in the evenings though and leaving my coat behind in New Zealand is something I regret hugely straight away, but I’m told by the campervan office it will be with me again soon so I will just put on an extra layer until it arrives.

Another of Captain Cook’s achievements was discovering Australia, and in a similar fashion to him I will be exploring the coastline to see what I can find.

Usual backpacker haunts such as Uluru (a.k.a. Ayre’s Rock) or the outback are going to have to wait for another trip because the island is so big and I would waste far too much time getting to them and back to the coastline again.

To aid me on my adventures whilst here I have been sent this alternative map by one kind soul, who is aware of how concerned I am by the angry fish. How kind!

Not sure that I would do anything at all based on its guidance, but to be honest that wouldn’t be such a bad thing for a week or two. I really need to recharge my batteries so that I have the energy I will need for the second half of my travels and Australia is the only place left on my trip where that is possible.

My R&R will entail Rugby and Reclining with a beer in hand as I enjoy the business end of the British and Irish Lions tour, but I also need to catch up with all the buddies I have that are now living here.

I am flying into Sydney early on a Saturday morning and am looking forward to seeing what this truly global city has to offer over the next few weeks.

After leaving Mount Manganui I have time to reflect on my Kiwi experience on the road across the top of north island to Auckland. I love the islands themselves but as a rule I would have to say there really isn’t much here. I have scored some great waves whilst here but have spent huge amounts of time just driving to see some of the country, and have only really scratched the surface.

I have also noticed that due to the distances involved between themselves and others the locals seem to have become quite resourceful and independent in order to overcome anything. E.g. the lady who cut my hair in the barbers she has established in her gift shop alongside the road. It is called ‘Barber Ann’ and as a Beach Boys fan I couldn’t resist!

I head straight for the campervan depot near the airport to return my van, and get lost for the umpteenth time on this trip. Annoyingly as a result of being late arriving, dealing with the failings of my van, and then being pushed out the door for them to lock it behind me, I leave behind my wonderful Berghaus 4 season jacket without realising in the rush. #$%#@#$!!!!! I am told it will be sent on to me when I ring the call centre, but it has been great for swerving weight allowances on planes because of its huge pockets so I am dreading the next flight.

I am collected there by Sarah and Elspeth who had driven across town to meet me, before going back to enjoy a fun evening with Roddy who has manage to mangle his leg playing football in the two weeks since I arrived. On a mission of mercy I then get lost again trying to score some beer for us to enjoy with our pizzas. My phone runs out of battery right at the wrong minute and I am driving blind around several suburbs of Auckland trying to find their place for about an hour.

I know I am physically, emotionally and mentally spent after the first six months on the road, and am now making too many mistakes which are causing me more problems. Sadly I can’t catch up on sleep because my flight is very early the next morning and I decide to sneak out in the morning when my cab arrives, rather than wake up the whole house for no reason.

I am already grumpy by the time I get to the airport and am not at all in the mood for the Jobsworth on the Quantas check in desk who insists on me unpacking all the contents of my bags at the front of the queue in order to transfer 5 Kg from one to the other as opposed to sensibly using the combined weight of the two. I hope he isn’t going to be an indicator of what I should expect in Australia.

Mount Manganui is the big rock you can see at the end of the peninsular here and is what the town is named after.

I can immediately see similarities to my home town of Llandudno back home in north Wales which has its own big rock at one end of the bay, called the Great Orme. A few people walk around that to keep fit but it seems like half of the north island are speed walking along the beach then up and down the Mount.

I have arrived late in the afternoon but immediately go in search of a surfboard, because I want to go surfing early the following morning. The waves are looking clean and tempting, and a few questions around town result me hiring this 7’6″ surfboard from the Mount Surf Shop.

By the time I get settled in at my camp site right on the beach there is only half an hour before the sun sets so I crack on with making dinner and wait for the morning. (Only possible after scoring some free rolls from the lady in the burger shop to enjoy with soup – She took pity on my plight because all the retail shops were shut and I needed a little bit of bread to get rid of the supplies in my van.)

I have loads to do the following day so turn in early in order to get moving as soon as the sun comes up.

At first the surf looks great but by the time I have my wetsuit on and am in the water the tide is too high. Whilst it looks pretty it is a crap conditions for a surf. The waves are not breaking until right on the shore, because the water is too deep and I have a couple of nervy hire board inspections after stacking into the sand trying to bag a few.

It isn’t the best wave I have surfed by a long way but I do catch a one or two, and after returning the board I console myself with a dip in the heated salt-water pools located in the town.

I manage some lane swimming before giving up due to feeling like somebody was boiling my face, and spend another half an hour just hanging out like everybody else and soothing myself in the gorgeous water.

As usual on this trip I have managed to swerve just about all the historic culture since arriving in New Zealand. However rolling through the town of Rotorua I get a chance to take in both the interesting geography and some of the Maori culture.

I pull in to the Te Puia centre (www.tepuia.com) just off the main road and am instantly made aware of all the geothermal activity nearby due to the pungent sulphur smell in the air. It is like fifteen egg sandwiches rolled into one.

Te Puia is home to schools dedicated to continuing the highest levels in Maori arts and crafts. I see the workshop where fantastic wood carvings are being completed and a lovely lady demonstrated how the local plants are transformed into a fabric and then rope using only a mussel shell.

However the real stars around here are the various geothermal phenomena. This picture is of Pohutu Geyser, meaning big splash or explosion, which erupts up to 100 foot high about 20 times a day showering everybody downwind in spray.

There are others here too though, including the Prince of Wales geyser which spouts three ways at once signalling the imminent eruption of Pohutu. It was named to honour the visit of a British Prince, however I prefer to think of it as the WRU geyser because it also resembles the crest of the Welsh rugby team when it erupts.

There are other features too such as the boiling mud pools you see here, hot water ponds and streams. There is even a pool in which vegetables and fish are still cooked!

I pick up a carved mask to add to my collection in the shop but have to make tracks because I have a lot to today, not least get away from this smell!

After leaving the Hannah family in Hastings I decide to head north across the central plateau. As with all New Zealand scenery the views everywhere in the road are stunning.

The first place of note that I stop for a bite to eat is Taupo, where I cannot resist having a go at the Hole in One challenge. The island you see here is floating on the lake and for a small fee you can whack some balls to try and land them in the holes. Doing so wins $5,000.

I don’t scare the island much with my erratic shots but do bounce a couple of it using a 9 iron, and am more fascinated by how they must collect the balls. You wouldn’t imagine needing scuba gear at a golf club!

Many years ago when I was trying to start a career in IT I got my first job working on the service desk at South Eastern railways in the UK. One of my former colleagues from that time was a Kiwi who had returned home and was now living in Hastings.

Neither of us are involved with the railways any more, so it was quite amusing to see this railway warning sign right outside Andre’s house upon arrival.

We haven’t seen each other in nearly ten years but have a great time catching up over a few beers. I meet Andre’s family and am treated to my first home cooked meal in months.

As ever it is great to see a familiar face where ever I am on my travels, but also to find out what various former colleagues have been up to since we last saw one another.

Andre doesn’t surf himself but I am surprised to find that his father did and actually shaped boards under the Hannah Surfboards brand.

Searching online later I discover there is still an operation making them in the Hawkes Bay area, but I am too late to find out if it is related to Andre’s family, but I’m guessing it is too much of a coincidence not to be.

After a night spent in a car park right on the waterfront in Wellington I woke up with something of a sore head and found a note saying I owed the council $40 attached to my windscreen.

Apparently paying for parking does not allow sleeping in your vehicle, which is considered camping. The charge for parking was $10 and the charge for camping is $50. Had I parked the car and slept on the floor adjacent to the van it would only be $10, all of which is a bit ludicrous but par for the course with my racking up big bills of late.

The guy at the car park is only doing his job and is good enough to give me a discounted rate when I try to sort it out, but I need to head north towards Hastings so don’t stick around long.

My drive takes me up over the mountains and more stunning scenery, but as you can see it is a bit of a grey and cold day and it is for this reason that I stop and offer a lift to a hitch hiker. (Having walked 20 km in Mexico with nobody stopping I couldn’t do the same to somebody else.)

The stereotypical image of mauris would be something along the lines of this picture, but Matiu who I gave a ride too was far more interesting than that. He was conveniently also on his way to Hastings having just sold his car near Wellington, but was soon telling me all about his work trying to motivate young mauri kids through music.

We played some of the recordings he had put together with the youngsters and I have to say I was a big fan of what he called contemporary mauri music. I had hoped to be able to share some of it with you but sadly he hasn’t got back to me, so you will have to imagine yourselves elements of rap, R&B, soul all based around mauri culture and in the native language.

Matiu is a really colourful character who I discovered  has not always had the best of luck, so I hope his recent good fortune bodes well for him.

Having spent so much time on my own he made fascinating company as we drove past the wonderfully named Cape Kidnappers. (Another thing attributed to Captain Cook after mauris tried to ‘free’ his Tahitian cabin boy who they thought was being held hostage.) I was getting all the traditional perspectives on landforms, heritage, etc. rather than the more PC guidebook version.

It wasn’t long before we had arrived in Hawkes Bay, which is famous for its wines and I was surprised to see so many sheep wandering around in between the lines of vines. We bid each other bon voyage upon arrival in Hastings and I go looking for an old friend.

I stump up the cash for another ferry crossing back to North Island. Marlborough sound really is pretty but it isn’t anywhere close enough to justifying why it is $300 to take a campervan across.

My credit card takes the hit and I try to forget about it as soon as possible.

I arrive in Wellington and find a campervan park right on the waterfront where I stop for the night. I get settled in and then head straight out into the city to see on of the lions tour matches.

It is so long ago now that I can’t even remember who they were playing, but given I missed much of the game due to getting my time differences wrong that is not surprising. I caught the last five minutes of what was a rout and there is nothing much to report on the game itself.

I did however make some new friends in the bar which had plenty of ex-pats in it enjoying a night out. I got adopted by a table of computer animators who were all originally from the UK but now based here and working for Peter Jackson and the other movie companies based in the area on post production work.

It is more than a bit parky at the moment and we a freezing as we go on a bit of a pub crawl but it is a fun night for me despite missing most of the game.