Naturists (or is it naturalists?)
The kiwi (the bird), being a bit of a fat flightless softy, has had a rough deal of it with the European introduction of the (cue colonial opinion) obviously much better European species such as cats, dogs, stoats, hedgehogs rats and gorse. If not eating the kiwi’s favourite foods, then they tend to be pulling it’s useless wings off (wings stunted by the curse of mammal free evolution – though some may dispute these true facts).
Thus chancing upon one of the comedic birds was a fair sledge of luck. Well not quite chancing. Going on a night walk in a place where they are monitored and defended with bait traps had to help a bit. After an hour and a bit walking, and discovering awesome kauri trees, massive kauri snails, cheese eating eels, huge spiders and a forest very much alive with activity; the clock and walk were counting down to home time. Then in a flash (of a red torch) the guide called ‘kiwi’ as the 40cm burly bird crossed the path at the gallop in front of us and galloped to cover. Worthy.
Sperlunking
E-May (as she is known to some) is getting braver. More regularly it is necessary to call her back from the edge of things, and more regularly she suggests overnight tramps than ever it would seem. In spite of this, and acceptably, the fear of dropping through a man-hole sized crack inside a cave, and then crawling through water for 15metres was ominous. The able guide, farmer and shearer Philip was able to comfort and persuade, going first, and promising to pull Emily through by her hair if she required.
She did it. But I quote: “#%$@ I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, #%$@”.
Following this, caverns full of glow worms, and hundreds, nay, thousands of stalactites, stalagmites brought a more positive (and expletive free) side back to conversations.
Fair play to the courage of her though, taking on the cave after a previous short lived snorkelling adventure. Choking in the swell at Goat island, being rescued on a rock, and then kicking the flippers with relentless vigour away from a harmless but intimidating sting ray.
The Seasonal Excursions Part Three: Springtime 26/9/09
Northland
A trip up north. An escape from the windy walloping of a winter in Wellington. Probably not a scorcher, but surely some bikini time?
No.
The spring equinox, considered only briefly in the time of holiday preparations, unleashed natures best on the unsuspecting school holiday adventurers. Snow closures on the Taupo-Napier highway, Tsunami up north (and of course, in Samoa), and an earthquake outside Wellington. Side-stepped through good fortune rather than wisdom.
The rains however were unavoidable. Intermittently charging the rivers and streams, and rendering the local waterfalls the place to be (for rampant rapids), and adding to the sense of adventure on a number of walks (Wenderholm, Whangarei Falls, Mount Manaia, Hururu Falls & Waitangi Mangroves, St Paul (old volcano), Matai Bay, Cusack cattle move, Waipoua Forest, Trounson Kauri Park, Kaueranga Gorge( model dam, Edwards lookout, Billy Goats landing), Waiomu Kauri Grove, Square Kauri, Cathedral Cove, Lonely Bay, Cooks Beach and Hot Water Beach).
And when the campervan was rocking, this was generally due to gales, or my having lost something again. The wind roll and rat-a-tat of the rain drops at Cathedral Cove and somewhere by a field near Puhoi losing the most sleep.
Skirting Crime
After a day spent last minute tumble drying and packing, and exploiting hire company mix-ups for the free lend of some camping comfort extras, the need for a square (gas cooked) meal and relaxed park for the van was chief. The drive from Auckland to Bethell’s was greeted at nightfall with a beachside car park and a short walk out onto the black sand beach. On return the smashed window of a neighbouring car was debated with a family concerned, but familiar with local car crime.
We decided on a short search for alternative camp spots, but to no avail returned to find only three cars parked, in an otherwise puddle filled area. Each car by now had been done, with front window glass freshly absent. We followed gut instinct and decided to make ourselves absent, for a more rural location, distancing ourselves from dear old NZ car crime.
A trip up north. An escape from the windy walloping of a winter in Wellington. Probably not a scorcher, but surely some bikini time?
No.
The spring equinox, considered only briefly in the time of holiday preparations, unleashed natures best on the unsuspecting school holiday adventurers. Snow closures on the Taupo-Napier highway, Tsunami up north (and of course, in Samoa), and an earthquake outside Wellington. Side-stepped through good fortune rather than wisdom.
The rains however were unavoidable. Intermittently charging the rivers and streams, and rendering the local waterfalls the place to be (for rampant rapids), and adding to the sense of adventure on a number of walks (Wenderholm, Whangarei Falls, Mount Manaia, Hururu Falls & Waitangi Mangroves, St Paul (old volcano), Matai Bay, Cusack cattle move, Waipoua Forest, Trounson Kauri Park, Kaueranga Gorge( model dam, Edwards lookout, Billy Goats landing), Waiomu Kauri Grove, Square Kauri, Cathedral Cove, Lonely Bay, Cooks Beach and Hot Water Beach).
And when the campervan was rocking, this was generally due to gales, or my having lost something again. The wind roll and rat-a-tat of the rain drops at Cathedral Cove and somewhere by a field near Puhoi losing the most sleep.
Skirting Crime
After a day spent last minute tumble drying and packing, and exploiting hire company mix-ups for the free lend of some camping comfort extras, the need for a square (gas cooked) meal and relaxed park for the van was chief. The drive from Auckland to Bethell’s was greeted at nightfall with a beachside car park and a short walk out onto the black sand beach. On return the smashed window of a neighbouring car was debated with a family concerned, but familiar with local car crime.
We decided on a short search for alternative camp spots, but to no avail returned to find only three cars parked, in an otherwise puddle filled area. Each car by now had been done, with front window glass freshly absent. We followed gut instinct and decided to make ourselves absent, for a more rural location, distancing ourselves from dear old NZ car crime.
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