Big Trip

Another lousy overnight flight this time. This could well be the last time we ever fly long-haul economy. Nobody slept particularly well. Erin wouldn't go to sleep until about an hour and a half out of Heathrow, and I just couldn't get to sleep. I was too hot and irritable. I watched Bill Murray in Broken Flowers, which was a good film, but half the dialogue was inaudible (technical fault, I think). I was so desperate later in the flight that I watched The Wedding Crashers, which was probably improved by the lack of some dialogue, though not to the extent of the previous film. Sarah's preferred option, Pride & Prejudice, just wasn't working at all.
Anyway, we landed on a perfect winter afternoon. Crisp, clear, cold, with perfect blue sky. Just the sort of day you'd want to come back to (in winter, anyway). Arriving back at the house was very odd. The outside looked familiar, but the inside seemed small and dark, and the kitchen didn't look like ours at all. I'm sure we'll get used to it. It seems strange to think that we won't be spending our days all together now, and that we will have to deal with the same things day after day, rather than each day bringing new and exciting things, but perhaps that's a problem of outlook rather than reality. We're all looking forward to sleeping in our own beds tonight, though, I can tell you.

We caught a bus up to the Exploratorium this morning. Mind you, when we got onto the bus the driver told us we couldn't expect to get onto a bus wielding a $20 bill for a $4 fare, which didn't endear him to us. Fortunately we had change. Is it me, or does money in the USA seem incredibly primitive, with no colour-coded notes, $1 notes rather than coins, and no coin larger than 25c? Anyway.
The Exploratorium was great, with more interactive science experiments than you can possibly get through in only a few hours, possible more than can be covered in a day. We spent our time dashing from geysers to optical illusions via friction and magnetism and all sorts of other things. Fascinating. My only problem with things like this is that as a dad, I don't get long enough to play with the experiments!
We emerged into rain and mist so thick that you couldn't even see the Golden Gate Bridge from Golden Gate Park. Then it was back to the hotel to pick up our bags and off to the airport for the journey home.

We walked up from the hotel to the top of Lombard Street, supposedly the crookedest street in the world. I had to push Erin up some of the hills, because she complained that they were too steep. Watched a few cars negotiating the umpteen zig-zags, and then walked down ourselves (pedestrians just get straight steps down, though). We kept going all the way up to Telegraph Hill and Coit Tower to look at the views of the city, and the murals around the base of the tower, painted in the depression of the 30s as a city work creation project for local artists. Somehow the views weren't that impressive, and not only because of the safety glass in the windows. It's just not that photogenic a city from here. It's much better seen from the ground, where the impact of the hills, and the architecture are more visible. The murals were much better, though there ought to be more information about them and what they 're depicting than the one- or two-sentence plaques in front of each section. I believe there are all sorts of cute little details like artists depicting themselves as characters in the paintings, but there was nothing about that at all. You probably have to buy a guide book for that sort of information, it occurs to me now.
The lift to the top was a nice old thing, though, operated by an attendant, who just had to remember to stop it at the right points.
Caught a cable car downtown (ooh, I've come over all Petula Clark) again, and mooched.
At dinner we realised that this is the last night of our trip, and we'll be home very soon, which is very odd after so long away.

More like Escape to Alcatraz. Breakfasted at Lori's again, but slightly earlier, and then caught a boat out to The Rock, as it's known. I've been there before, but it's still a pretty intimidating place. Mind you, it's a prison, so I suppose it should be intimidating, and I don't have any experience of other prisons to compare it with, I'm happy to say. It seems more desolate because a lot of the outbuildings are just ruins now, but I don't imagine it was a great place to stay. Only the really bad guys went to Alcatraz, and escape doesn't really look like an option. Just looking at the water around the island, you can see the currents and eddies, and you get the distinct feeling that if you even go near the edge, they will suck you under and dump you unceremoniously, and probably undiscovered, a long way away. It makes me shiver just to think about it.
Anyway, the cell block is still intact, so you can go & see where these nasty men were kept, which is a salutory experience, and well worth it in my opinion. Max & Erin beware :-)
When we got back to the hotel we made the mistake of trying to get a cup of tea. For those of you that have read The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, I felt a bit like Arthur Dent. There was no tea in our room, only coffee. There was no room service until 6pm, and it was only 4.30. The restaurant and bar didn't open until 5. Fortunately for us, one of the bar staff took pity on me as he was opening up the bar, and almost totally redeemed the hotel by giving us the drinks on the house. I probably should have tipped him, but I couldn't help feeling that it was no more than I deserved, and don't get me started on the culture of tipping...

We all slept well, and didn't wake up until 10.30 today. Caught a cable car downtown for brunch (well, lunch by the time we got there) at Lori's Diner, a superb 50s-style diner that I've been to once or twice before. Superb American breakfast. Just what we needed. We did a bit of clothes shopping, as we needed one or two things with long sleeves and legs to cope with the slight difference in temperature between here & Fiji. After a moochy afternoon, we ended up laughing at the antics of the seals on the pontoons by Pier 39. There are so many of them, and they just flollop around, barking at each other, occasionally indulging in a pointless dispute which ends up with one being pushed off into the water and trying to find a space on another pontoon, which results in another dispute which ends up...

Our last day in Fiji :-( Erin had her hair braided today, while Max & I just lazed in the hammock outside the bure, reading. At lunch, Max complained of a painful ear, which was probably swimmer's ear, due to all the time he's spent in the pool. I took him down to see the doctor in the nearest town, Sigatoka, and she confirmed it. She pronounced him fit to fly, and we managed to get antibiotics and drops in the pharmacy. I love places like Sigatoka. It was all abuzz with people buying fruit & veg in the market, chatting, generally going about their everyday business, and the local girls on their way home from school in gaggles, chatting & laughing. They seemed almost to make even the colourful street scenes fade slightly because they were wearing magenta uniforms which seemed almost iridescent in the afternoon sun.
After an early dinner and extensive farewells from the staff we headed to the airport. The flight to Los Angeles was an incredible ordeal. I can honestly say I've never enjoyed a flight less. Where most are smooth with periods of turbulence, this was bumpy all the way but for a few brief calm spells. In fact it was so bumpy I swear I could feel the aircraft (a 747)flexing. We didn't sleep much. On top of that, about three hours out of Los Angeles, Max started to vomit. He kept it up all the way through the flight, and through the airport when we landed, poor lad. Finally, at the departure gate, waiting for our connection to San Francisco, he lay down on the floor & slept. He must have been exhausted. He was sick once more, when he woke up to board the plane, but then brightened up almost immediately. My theory is that it was food poisoning from our last Fiji dinner, because it was over so quickly.
Fortunately the flight to SFO was only 50 minutes, and the transfer was pretty swift, so we were at our hotel in reasonable time. In fact, we arrived there a few hours before we left Fiji, thanks to the International Date Line. All went to bed early, somewhat jaded.

It's hard work, all this lying around. Another day doing very little, which will disappoint those of you looking for another action-packed entry. Highlights of the day were the torch lighting ceremony and another superb gluten free pizza for Max. The whole resort has torches around the paths which are lit by a man running round at high speed, carrying what looks rather like a huge match. He's dressed in traditional Fijian costume, including a grass skirt. Perhaps the match has to be quite so huge to keep it away from those vulnerable areas...

Another tough day, busy doing nothing, though I did go snorkelling off the beach this morning. It was like a small version of the Great Barrier Reef: not as colourful or plentiful, but with many of the same creatures and corals. There were some lovely coral formations that I hadn't seen before, and some huge tube-shaped things, a bit like a vacuum cleaner tube with tentacles at the front, moving along the sea floor. Plenty of blue sea stars, too.
This evening, the local village choir came and sang in the restaurant. It was very much like a Welsh choir with its close harmonies, and singing a mixture of traditional christian hymns and others that I didn't recognise. Very reminiscent of Sunday evenings watching Songs of Praise as a child.

We had a brief glimpse into Fijian village life today when we visited the next village along the coast, Ma Levu. It's obviously not a wealthy place - the houses are all very basic - but everyone seemed very happy. The land is all owned communally: they have 2,300 acres or so which they farm and live on. Everyone leaves their front door open all the time, unless they're away or asleep. One of the local lads climbed a coconut tree and knocked down a few coconuts for us to try. They were delicious, although the young coconut flesh, known as jelly, had a very strange texture. Then we were welcomed into the village with the yaqona (yangona) or kava ceremony. Yaqona is a drink made by soaking the ground up roots of a pepper tree in water. It's a mild narcotic, but non-alcoholic. A chief was elected to represent our party, and the ceremony was geared around him and his wife taking yaqona on our behalf. There are all sorts of speeches and a little ritual, with many cries of 'bula!' from the hosts and the assembled company, and the yaqona is drunk. When the ceremony was over we all got to try some. Erin declined, but Max & I had some. I can best describe yaqona as looking and tasting rather like dishwater with a hint of aniseed. It has a slightly numbing effect on the mouth. There was much imploring of people to take it in moderation, especially young newly-weds, apparently, as the emphasis is on bearing children, and the narcotic effect makes this difficult! It was only a keyhole view onto villae life, but there were many aspects that have been lost in the modern western world, I suspect, such as the sharing of food and care, and the community looking after everyone in it.
Then, ironically, we returned to the western world, with its easy wealth, swimming pool, plentiful food and nothing much to do. Mmm.

Oh boy, what a tough day. We had to find our way round the resort, and then there were meals to be eaten, and a huge pool to make use of. We really struggled to do it all, such is the pace of life here. I'm not sure we're cut out for this travelling lifestyle.

At least the flight was at a civilised hour, meaning that we could have breakfast before leaving. We got lost at least twice on the drive to the airport, which led me to suspect that, since there are few really compelling reasons for staying in Auckland, they just try to make it hard for you to leave. Anyway, all went smoothly and we landed safely in Fiji. In pouring rain. Well, it is the wet season. It's hot & humid, and there are occasional heavy showers. We're on the dry side of the island here, on the south west 'coral coast'. That just means that we may get a shower every couple of days instead of rain each afternoon.
Our drive from the airport was beautiful. It reminded me of Tanzania in some respects - there were many people sitting by the roadside selling fruit & veg. In many cases they were neatly stacked into pyramids, or set out in tidy piles on a cloth. There were also lots of groups of young men sitting round by the roadside, apparently with very little to do. Perhaps they're just working on Fiji time. There were mountains visible in the distance across vast plains of sugar cane, all of it very green and lush, the clouds hanging at different heights over the peaks & valleys. Our driver, Mr. Singh, didn't speak a great deal of english, but occasionally would say 'sugar cane' or 'Outrigger' (the resort name) loudly, and at random intervals.
We arrived after an hour or so at a beautiful resort right on the beach, with palms, hibiscus and jasmine, and all sorts of other native plants whose names I don't know, to another reminder of Tanzania. When I climbed Kilimanjaro, pretty much everyone you met along the way would say 'jambo!', 'hello' in Swahili. Here it's very much the same, except that the greeting is 'bula!'.
After a little shuffling around, we had dinner and settled into our room, which is based on a traditional thatched bure (boo-ray), or Fijian village meeting house.

Still struggling with things to do in Auckland, but we needed to look for some more gluten free bits & pieces to take with us to Fiji for Max. We pottered down to the waterfront and found Foodtown - just another supermarket really, but with a great selection of GF food. We struggled to know what not to buy. Then it was time for our obligatory flat white (we'll miss them when we get back). Eventually, in an effort to do something, we got ourselves onto a harbour cruise. Auckland, it has to be said, looks better from the water. We saw quite a few expensive apartments, and quite a number of expensive yachts, including a couple of ex-Americas Cup racers that you can go & sail on - they do 2- and 3-hour 'experience' cruises round the harbour, including racing them against each other. Erin & I would have gone, but they have a minimum age of 10 :-( Anyway, the prize for ostentatious wealth went to the superyacht owned by a Russian billionaire. It was so big that it was actually carrying a motor launch and a yacht.
It was a nice potter around, and went out as far as the flat volcanic cone of Rangitoto Island, which is a nice walk up to a good viewpoint on a cool day. It wasn't a cool day, though, and anyway our cruise didn't stop there.
When we docked in Auckland again, Max & Erin expressed a desire to go to the Maritime Museum, which turned out to be one of the better museums we've seen. I'd say it's probably better than the Sydney equivalent. There were great displays on NZ's maritime history, including various Maori and Pacific island craft - outrigger canoes & sailing boats. There was an interactive mockup of an Americas Cup yacht in which you could have rope tailing races and grinder (winch) races. Mind you, I reckon the exhibit was broken, because I always lost. One of the creepiest displays was a room which mimicked a steerage class cabin on one of the immigrant ships from the UK. It was dark & hot, and it even swayed with the sea, which is very disturbing if you're in a museum. It was gentle enough to be barely perceptible, but when you stepped out you knew you'd been in it.
Then it was time to go & repack our belongings for air travel and prepare ourselves for saying goodbye to New Zealand.

OK... so now we're here in Auckland, what do we do? Actually, the first decision was easy. Our hotel is just a few metres from the Auckland Skytower, so we just had to go up & see what Auckland looks like from the highest building in the southern hemisphere. Fortunately it was a glorious day, so it looked pretty good. You could see right out into the Hauraki Gulf to the various islands, such as the classic volcanic cone of Rangitoto. And round the other side, you could see to the narrowest point of the land between Manukau Harbour on the west side and Waitemata Harbour on the east side. It's really not very wide, but it looks pretty built up. Anyway, while we were there on the observation deck, someone flew past, going downwards. Fortunately, they were just doing the Skyjump. And then Sarah said "I think you ought to do that".
There was a little bit of dithering, but not much. I went down & got suited up & fitted for a harness, and then had to make my way up in the normal lift, with a bunch of other people who were going for an innocent look out of the windows. Then, well, it was pretty simple, really. They clip you into the safety wire and you walk out to the edge of the tower, a couple of floors up from the observation deck. They count down, and you step off. Sixteen seconds or so later, you're on the ground. Actually, there's a bit of a hiccup in the middle as they stop you just below the deck so that they can get a photo of you dangling. Then they let you go again.
The best part is that, if there aren't many people jumping, they ask you if you want to do it again. For free. Now, I can spot a bargain when I see one, and I reckon that this meant I'd get two jumps for half price. BOGOF. Fantastic. The second jump is much better than the first, because you remember to relax, look around you, and enjoy the ride. They also don't bother to stop you for a photo, so it's a smooth drop to the ground. Excellent.
After that, we had to go & do some shopping, so grabbed lunch at a local cafe and walked to the nearest supermarket. Then, we just sort of mooched the afternoon away.
We met up with our friend Piran for dinner. Piran has a habit of being in out of the way places, though we have met him in the UK. He's the chap who couldn't make it to our wedding, but happened to be travelling in Italy at the time, so met us on the honeymoon instead. From memory, his full name is Piran Dibdin Nankivell Aglio AElius Raphael Odo Diggory Denzil Montford. He's great fun, anyway, so we had a very pleasant evening. If there's anyone out there who remembers him, he says, "Hi!".

Another long drive today, but this time it was my fault. I fancied driving over to the west coast before heading south. In truth, it wasn't really worth it. The scenery wasn't radically different from anywhere else - nice enough, but nothing we hadn't seen elsewhere - and it just made the journey 100kms longer. The highlight, apart from our arrival in Auckland, obviously, was seeing NZ's largest kauri tree, the monster Tane Mahutu in the Waipoua Forest. It's enormous, at over 50m tall and, well, I can't remember how big the girth is, but it's just immense. You'd get a lot of matchsticks out of it, if you made matchsticks out of kauri. Estimates of its age vary. Some reckon it's around 2100 years old, others just say it's over 1000. It's old. Very old.

Finally, we were persuaded to go kayaking. Or rather, the three of us that wanted to go backed Sarah into a corner. We found a slightly dodgy collection of people on Paihia sea front hiring kayaks, so got ourselves fitted out. They weren't terribly helpful on where we should go, but eventually we agreed on a little sojourn round the nearest island. It was fine, actually. We made good progress all the way round behind the island. Erin didn't do a great deal of paddling herself (she was with me, and Max with Sarah, in double kayaks), though when she did, she was reasonably coordinated. As we were in the lead, I couldn't see how Sarah & Max were doing, except that they were keeping up OK, but I was aware of a fair amount of shouting of "left, right..." from both parties. We stopped for a breather on a little beach at the end of the island, where another couple of kayaks and a Maori waka doing tours had also stopped. The waka departed first, in a reasonably well choreographed show of white paddles, and then all four kayaks. The other two were a bit more sleek & technical than ours, so they left us behind fairly quickly. Then we got to a point out of the lee of the island where the combination of the breeze and the current made it very hard to turn the corner and paddle along the beach, and both our kayaks were getting blown towards the rocks. I managed to turn my kayak by swinging the nose of it round in the opposite direction, but Sarah just couldn't turn hers, and I couldn't get close enough for her to grab on to the stern of mine for help. Oh yes, and by now we were in the middle of a squally shower. Fortunately, at that point, the guy we'd rented them from turned up on his jet ski & offered a tow, which was gratefully accepted. Meanwhile, I managed to paddle on & get back under my own steam. There was much talk afterwards of never going kayaking again. Not that we'll get many opportunities, I'm sure.
After lunch we caught the ferry across to Russell, NZ's first capital. It's a lovely, quaint little town, with white clapboard colonial-style buildings, probably benefiting from the fact that to get there you either have to drive two and a half hours round, or get the vehicle ferry. Mooched around, went into the little museum with its 1:5 scale model of the Endeavour and exhibition on whaling in the area (I still don't know what 'flensing' is, and I'm not sure I want to). Had ice cream and admired the sleek yachts around the bay, and then caught the ferry back again.

...well, New Zealand, anyway. Well, almost. We braced ourselves for the cost, and took a two hour scenic flight up to Cape Reinga, which is the most northerly lighthouse in NZ. It's pretty close to the most northerly point, but it's northerly enough for us. We flew up a little bit of the east coast, over the market gardens of Kerikeri and then the farmland further north, just west of the vast curve of Doubtless Bay, and then crossed to the west coast a little way up Ninety Mile Beach (which, incidentally, is 60 miles long, and a state highway). There were a few cars on the beach, racing along, (oh, and one being extracted from the sand) and one lucky nutter on a motorbike. Then at the northern end of the beach we turned inland and landed in a field on top of a hill. The landing strip was marked out with tyres painted white, and had a very interesting dip in the middle where it got quite narrow. The terminal building was actually a 4x4 people carrier. We continued our journey by road, up the last twenty gravel-only kilometres of State Highway 1, to Cape Reinga lighthouse. From there, you can see where the Tasman Sea and the Pacific Ocean join. It was a pretty calm day, so there wasn't a great deal of activity in the sea - apparently in less calm weather you can see quite a bit of white water along the join. We could make out two lines of white horses and noticeable currents stretching into the distance, though.
More moving to me was the single tree on the distant cliffs which is believed by the Maori to be the start of the conduit to the spirit world. They believe that your spirit being climbs down the tree into a cave below, where it rests for three days (which is why Maori funerals last three days). Then it walks out onto the flat rocks beyond and into the area where the oceans meet to be swiftly transported to the spirit world.
We had afternoon tea by another beautiful sandy beach at Tapotupotu Bay, with only a few other people for company, and then went to find some giant dunes for sand tobogganing. Actually, they were big, but not compared with Moreton Island, and the tobogganing was pretty pedestrian too, but those weren't the main reasons for coming.
Back to the airfield, and an entertaining takeoff for our flight back down the east coast. We started with the amazingly white silica sands of Great Exhibition Bay (no public access - you have to be a friend of the farmer's), and then back down Doubtless Bay. There were a few small, privately owned beaches, and much talk of escalating property prices. Finally, we flew back over the Bay of Islands with its coastline that could have been designed by Slartibartfast and the hundred and umpteen islands within.
We finished the day with dinner in Kerikeri at a pizzeria advertising gluten free pizzas. Excellent.

No superstition here. Marathon journey though, all the way down the Coromandel (which, we discovered, is almost unremittingly beautiful and has pretty much no straight roads) and up the other side of the Firth of Thames, through Auckland to the Bay of Islands. Not much to note (see previous comments on scenery) except the horrifying increase in traffic through Auckland. After two months without it, I could quite happily never see that much traffic again. I should be so lucky. To be honest, first impressions are that it wasn't worth the drive, really. The Coromandel's nicer. That could be just the tiredness talking, though.

Visited the Driving Creek Pottery, Brickworks & Railway this morning. The railway was ostensibly built to furnish the potteries & brickworks with clay & wood from the hills, but that's really just the kind of excuse a railway enthusiast would try and employ to build his own line. It winds up the hillside, having to reverse in a number of places to get up the gradient, and includes some impressive engineering in the form of tunnels, cuttings, embankments and even a double-decked viaduct. There's one reversing point where the entire train is on a platform built out from the hillside. All of this madness leads you to the Eyeful Tower at the top, where there are wonderful views out over the harbour and beyond, and all round the hillsides. The pottery and brickworks themselves are a fantastically shambolic assortment of sheds and left over bits of machinery, which I'm sure will come in handy one day. Perhaps they already do. I'm sure they make some great stuff there, but most people go for the railway.
Having had our fill of trains once more we went to the Waiau Waterworks, a whimsical assortment of water-powered inventions in some nice gardens. There are all sorts of things that go round, or swing, powered by water, as well as toys to play with such as interactive fountains, water cannons, boat races, that kind of thing. Best of all, there's a swimming hole in the river, with a springboard a few metres above it. Splash. Erin didn't have time to psych herself up for this one, though, so pottered about in the river instead. The Waterworks is up for sale for $1.5m. What's that in Sterling? Hmmm...
Finally went to see a local giant Kauri tree, reckoned to be 600 years old. Coo. It's very big, y'know, and the first branches are 50ft off the ground, making it look even more impressive. The chap at Driving Creek's planted 25000 of these things over the last 25 years, in an attempt to reinstate the native bush. Should be quite impressive by 2606.

Left Tairua this morning to head up the east coast of the Coromandel peninsula and then cut across to Coromandel Town itself. We were lucky with the tide times, so our first stop was Hot Water Beach, so called because there are hot water springs that come up close to the surface of the sand, and at low tide you can dig yourself a spa. Of course, being newbies, by the time we got there many people had already found spots and dug theirs, and there was quite a melee going on. I found a spot just in the waves, and reasoned that, if I stood there long enough, the tide would go out & I'd be able to dig myself a nice hot pool with the spades we hired from the beach cafe. I stood there for quite a while, actually, alternately scalding & cooling my feet. I had a number of goes at digging a hole, but each time the tide would come back at me and fill the hole in. In the end, we contented ourselves with knowing that we could have dug a spa if we'd really wanted to. Anyway, the hot water was really hot (60+ deg. C) so it would have been too hot to sit in without some complex channel system to the sea to mix it with cold. And it was too hot to sit in hot water anyway.
After a play in some nice cool water we drove on up some very windy roads and past some beautiful beaches around Mercury Bay up to Coromandel and the rather lovely Anchor Lodge Motel. Fantastic views over the bay from the balcony.

We were sad to have to leave the motel - the english couple who run it were very friendly, and their son Robbie has made good friends with Max & Erin. I think they've really appreciated having someone of a similar age to play with after so long travelling. The drive to Tairua was unremarkable, but I find that inevitably I have less comment to make on the NZ landscape as we've become more familiar with it. We did stop at Waihi on the way for a look at the Martha gold mine. It's an enormous hole in the ground. They have one of those immense dumper trucks at the top so that you can stand next to it and have a photo taken of you being dwarfed by it. Then you go & look down into the immense terraced crater that is the mine, and you can see them coming and going, looking like tiny matchbox toys, with equally small excavators loading them up at the bottom. There didn't seem to be much going on, but then if you can do that little and still bring in $1m a week, then why work harder?
Tairua itself is in a lovely spot on an estuary, with plenty of sand and shallow water to play in. We drove up to Paku, a volcanic cone at the harbour entrance with yet more 360-degree views over the Pacific and the harbour and lovely beaches. The legend says that if you walk to the top of Paku, as we did, you'll return in seven years. Oh well.
Then we went back and Max & Erin joined the local kids jumping off a bridge into the harbour. Erin took a while to steel herself to the task, but made it eventually. She and Max were by far the youngest there - all the others were probably ten or over.

We resolved to find Kerosene Creek this morning, which is one of the few places where you can swim in hot springs for free. Of course, we missed the unsignposted turning, but found it on the second attempt. Then we missed the unsignposted creek, but found that on the second try too. There's nothing apart from a parking bay on an unmade road, which is probably the main reason that it remains such an unspoiled and uncommercialised area. There's a little walk through the woods, so if you're going don't leave any valuables in the car, and then you come upon an unassuming stream, a 6-foot waterfall and a small, shallow pool.
Stepping into the pool is like getting into a hot bath - probably slightly hotter than a bath I'd run for myself. It's lovely, though, just lying around for a bit and then getting out onto a rock to cool down, or sitting in the stream above the falls just warming your lower half. Even better is standing under the falls letting the water massage you all the way from the back of your head to the small of your back. Bliss. We had the place to ourselves for quite a while, and even in the busy period when we left at lunchtime there were only a dozen people there. Another classic swimming moment.
This afternoon we drove up to the Blue & Green Lakes. There's a viewpoint where you're supposed to be able to see both, but it wasn't really high enough to give a good view. We went on to see Lake Tarawera and, beyond it, Mount Tarawera which erupted in the late 1800s leaving a vast volcanic rift which goes on for miles. You can see the divide in the mountain even from the opposite side of the lake. There were a lot of lovely houses down there too but, for those of you who are wondering, it's not really somewhere we could live :-)

Went just up the road to Te Puia today, the Maori Arts & Crafts Institute. We arrived at the Pohutu Geyser just as they'd switched it on, so stayed and watched the eruption, which seemed to go on for ever. In fact, we left before the end. The thermal area wasn't that interesting in comparison with Orakei Korako, apart from a couple of bigger mud pools, so we didn't linger there, but went on to the Maori cultural show, which started with a traditional Maori welcome, where a warrior came out to greet the party and challenge us to determine our intentions. Having found that we came in peace, we were welcomed into the meeting house, where the show is held. There were a number of traditional songs with hand actions and poi displays, and the obligatory haka, all performed by people in traditional Maori dress. It's strangely moving, though in many cases, you have no idea what the songs mean. Then we visited the carving school, where traditional carving skills are taught to people who are selected from various tribes & sub-tribes to receive scholarships. There were quite a few intricate pieces in progress, and a couple of chaps working on them who chatted about all sorts of things. I can't say we learned a lot about the actual carvings themselves in the short time we were there, but I do enjoy watching people working with wood.

Stopped off at a glass blowing studio on our way up to Rotorua to look at their beautiful wares, and some actual glass blowing. They didn't seem to be working as hard at the blowing as I remember from previous visits to glass blowers, but maybe they were just being cool for the audience. Then we went on to Orakei Korako, reckoned to be one of the finest thermal areas in New Zealand, and possibly the world, and with good reason. The landscape here is even more unreal than at Craters of the Moon. There's a huge silica terrace on the other side of a lake, which you have to cross to visit the area. Then you walk up past the Diamond Geyser (yes, really) and across the red, yellow, black & white terrace itself while it all steams gently around you, and hot water trickles down into the lake.Then you walk up past the orange-fringed black pool the shape of Africa to the Artists Palette, a vast white area pock marked with bubbling, steaming blue pools, mud pockets and empty, steaming craters. There's a 120-ft deep geothermal cave with a mirror pool at the bottom, in which the water was so clear and still that Max thought he could walk on the rocks and ended up with a wet foot.
All the time you're aware of the feeling that you're walking on something fragile and perhaps a bit unpredictable, which is slightly disconcerting if you dwell on it too much. Anyway, having done all that we went on to Rotorua, a nice short drive, dumped our bags at the motel, and headed for the gondola & luge, the same as in Queenstown. The same amount of fun, but more queueing and a much longer chairlift ride back up.
Having exhausted our arms, especially Erin's, on the luge, Sarah suggested I should do something exciting on my birthday and try the Sky Swing. Erin was thrilled to bits to find that she was old enough & tall enough to do it with me, so we both went. Well, it's a big swing, isn't it? Erin loved every second. I think my favourite moment was pulling the rope to release us at the start of the swing. I won't say anything else, but the DVD will be available for rent when we return.
Finished the day off by stuffing ourselves silly with a buffet dinner at the restaurant at the top of the gondola and watching the sun set over Rotorua. Not a bad day I s'pose.

First stop today was Craters of the Moon, a small thermal area just outside Taupo run by the Dept of Conservation, and therefore free. It turned out to be a great little walk through a surreal landscape of scrubby bush and coloured soils interspersed with plenty of steaming fumaroles and craters, bubbling and steaming water pools, and even the odd mud pool glooping away. Good value, but a bit smelly. Then we popped over the road to the Volcanic Activity Centre, where there were all sorts of little interactive displays - a good 3-d map of the Taupo Volcanic Area, a good 3-d jigsaw where you had to fit tectonic plates onto a globe and a slightly inferior earthquake simulator in which you just sat down and were thrown about a bit.
After lunch we went down for yet another jet boat ride (yawn... easy entertainment...). On the Aratiatia Rapids. It was fantastic. We actually boated up & down the rapids several times, and this is one of the few jet boat rides we've seen where the photos actually live up to the experience. I got the prize for being the wettest on the boat, which was... well... more water than anyone else. For tea, we treated ourselves to fish & chips, including gluten free battered fish for Max. It was excellent. Needless to say, Max was chuffed to bits. I think Taupo wins the prize for best gluten free options so far.

A nice short blast up the Esk valley & down into Taupo this morning. Actually enjoyed the corners this time, rather than them resulting in the mild queasiness of the camper van. Great scenery - green and undulating, though the undulations seem steeper and closer together than at home. It felt very like the northern Peak District, though perhaps with more conifers. No settlements, just how I like it.
Pootled into Taupo in time for lunch, and by accident managed to end up at a cafe where we were able to get Max a gluten free bagel, an object hitherto unseen by the Lilleys. After that we went up to the AC baths, as recommended by Johnny. Lovely geothermally heated pools. Aaaahhh. Then drove up to the Huka Falls, another Johnny recommendation. Not very high - just a wide river forced through a narrow channel, leading to a thundering, hissing, foaming turquoise torrent at the far end, which fans out in a huge white arc, and very shortly transforms into a calm, wide river again. Well worth the minimal effort required to view it.

Wandered into Napier this morning, and suddenly there was Art Deco architecture everywhere. The town was pretty much destroyed in an earthquake in 1931, and rebuilt wholesale, so all the architecture is very much of the same period. Most is above the shops, and there's great variety.
We just had to go into Train World, which turned out to be a rather shabby model railway above some shops. Max & Erin both enjoyed watching the numerous trains hurtle back & forth, though. Then three of us went to play mini golf while Sarah had a hair appointment. It was quite a challenge, being a links course, and I think the wind was worse than Augusta today. That's Max's explanation for not winning, anyway. Made it out of the car park with about 30 seconds to spare before it closed for the night.

Bade farewell to our hosts and set off for Napier, on Hawke's Bay on the east coast. I have to confess that I didn't notice much about the journey today - perhaps because we have a car rather than a camper van, and are therefore going slightly faster. We certainly have a less commanding view of the road.
Arrived at our rather 1960's motel. It reminded me of Butlins at Minehead in the 70s - not one of my favourite places. Still, it's clean, the water's hot and the beds are comfortable. Drove up to Bluff Hill lookout after dinner, and were rewarded with the most fabulous, expansive views over the whole of the Hawke's Bay area, right up (just) as far as the Mahia Peninsula, which must be 80-90km away, I reckon. It was beautiful in the clear evening sunlight. As usual, I could have stayed longer than anyone else. Instead, we drove back down the hill admiring the houses, including several which were for sale. (I noted the following day that in the estate agents' they were all listed as 'Price by Negotiation'.)
Haven't seen much of Napier's famed Art Deco architecture yet.

The wind really got up during the night, so this morning, so-called Windy Wellington really lived up to its name. You couldn't see very much except thick cloud and the sea whipping up along the beach. We headed off to Paraparaumu to see relatives Trevor & Muriel. It was a great journey, especially the bits along the shore, with the waves often splashing up onto the road. Trevor & Muriel live just over the sand dunes from the beach, and there was a fair bit of sand being blown over onto the house. Sarah & the children tried walking over onto the beach, but had to turn back with eyes stinging. We went out for lunch, had a honey tasting (I don't recommend the wild thyme honey - smelled like a farmyard, but didn't taste that nice), watched bees coming in & out of a glass hive, and then went on to a motor museum, where there were some fabulous cars. One of my favourites was a gangster's Cadillac, complete with 2-inch thick bulletproof windows and bullet marks in the windscreen.
Back to Wellington in vastly different weather - hot & sunny, with the wind coming from the opposite direction entirely.
We'll be sad to leave Sheila & Johnny's in the morning - it's a beautiful house, in a beautiful location, and we've had a fabulous, relaxing time - the hospitality has been second to none.

We got there before you, ner ner ner-ner ner :-)
We spent the morning helping construct a feast for 30-40 people, even though there were only going to be 12 at lunch, and four of them were children. Then we met distant members of the family, many of whom I've only heard about in family anecdotes, but they all seemed to be perfectly normal to me. In fact, many of them are really rather nice :-) Spent the afternoon larking about with the kids in the garden and we all got absolutely soaked, but then that's the point of a water fight, I suppose. Spent a peaceful evening nibbling at leftovers and wondering who on earth would eat the rest...