There and Back 2005

The drive from Auckland to Rotorua (which means 2nd lake in Maori) was uneventful aside from a parting blow that my intestinal parasite threw at me. Thank god for there being a McDonald's on every street corner, and the bathroom was clean too.

Upon arrive in Rotorua we navigated to city streets to our Backpackers (thats what they call hostiles in NZ and Australia). It was a nice surprise to find the rooms, kitchen and bathrooms emaculate and it was also nice to be in a more laid back atmosphere deviod of the drunk 18 to 20 year olds that bumbed around Auckland backpackers.

After getting the lay of the land, we did some grocery shopping and headed to a place that, ealier, looked busy and advertised a $10 meal and beer. As we walked to the place, we realized that the entire city had left and gone home. Apart from the odd backpacker with the same bewildered look on there face as on ours, and a random collect of local teenagers stomping around, the town was dead.

We had our dinner and beer, sheapherds pie and lager, then had no choice but to go back. On the way home, Kate said that the town was like a movie set. I'd say that was a good description. Still, with the sheer number of bars and eateries you would have to conclude that at some point the town gets hopping. The funniest and strangest thing we saw was a brightly lit Chinese resaurant that was completely empty but had a sign on the door saying "Sorry, restaurant is full." Maybe everyone in Rotorua turns invisble after 5 pm, that is something I hadn't considered untill now.

The next day we set off for Gisborn. This is the easterly most city in New Zealand and the place where Captain Cook first landed on his voyage of discovery in the mid to late 1700's. Despite being the first European to vist many lands in the Pacific and South Pacific, Cptn Cook has only a few places named for him. The first place is the Cook Island in the South Pacifc and the other place that comes to mind is the Cook Straits, the stretch of water between New Zealands north island and south island. Many argue that cook lost his mind towards the end of his second voyage where he died a bloody death in Hawaii and was, by some accounts, eaten by the native Hawaiians.

Back to Gisborn, this was a smallish city with about fifty to sixty thousand people and in many way the same look and feel as Rotorua. The streets were laid out in a grid and most buildings stood no more than 2 stories.

After checking into the backpackers, we headed up to the top of a hill that over looked Gisborn and the body of water Cook named Poverty Bay. When Cook sailed into Poverty Bay his attempts to land and reprovision were thwarted by the local Maori Tribe, so onward he sailed, low on food and supplies and as a reminder of his experiences there he left the name. Just north of Gisborn is a place he named The Bay of Plenty, as you might expect, his attempts at provisioning there were somewhat more succesful.

At the top of the hill we had a light dinner of cheese, crackers and wine that we shared with a Chinese sailor who wandered up. His ship was taking on a load of plywood. He spoke fairly good English and was very nice company. We talked a bit about China and the tremendous growth and building that has been taking place there. He talked about his wife and child who was 11 months old. He shipped out 7 months ago. He quized us as to how he could emmigrate to New Zealand but we didn't really have any answers for him and suggested he do a search online.

When I asked why he wanted to move to New Zealand, without hesitation he said it was the air. The air was so fresh and clean to him. At home he said the air was foul. I suppose he hoped for higher wages too but his initial response was interesting.

After the hill we headed back down to the town. Similar to Rotarua, we observed that after 5 pm, the city shut down. We walked around to a number of bars only to find them empty, not even a friendly bar keep behind the bar praying that we come in and make his night worth while.

We managed to find a few people in one pub where we had a beer then returned home.

The next day it was on to Napier. The scenery was more or less the same each day. Huge tracks of pasture land with sheep and cow busy munching on grass set against a backdrop of denuded mountains with the random tree farm thrown in here and there. It was a very unnatural picture. Quite the opposite of what I thought I'd see in NZ.

I should mention though that inland from the highway is a huge natural reserve that is said to be New Zealands last frontier and it would be there that, had we ventured, we would have seen a more wild rugged and natural landscape. Sadly, time did not permit so maybe next time.

When the European settlers first arrived in this area they agressively chopped down the forest for lumber and to make way for the huge number of sheep and other grazing live stock. The affects of this campaign are drastically evident. Still, the sheer size of the mountains made for some rather dramatic vistas and I'm glad we came the way we did.

Napier was a very cool city, positioned on the southern end of Hawk's Bay (also named by Cook). In 1931 it was leveled by a magnitude 7.9 earthquake. The earthquake shifted the landscape up and in the end Napier was 40 square kilometers bigger than before. The rebuilt city was formulated on the Art Deco style of architecture. It was fun just walking around looking at the buildings.

After getting settled at the backpackers we set off for Mission Winery. The wine tasting was free and they produced a wide variety of reds and whites. Our favorite was an oaked chardoney (no idea how to spell that). Feeling quite relaxed from the sampling of wine we headed back to town to get cleaned up for our Valentine's Day dinner.

We had both been craving some good local seafood (Kate likes seafood now) and decided that we ought to splerge. We drove around town looking for the right place only to find it two doors down from the backpackers. We made reservations but they were late in the evening and our hunger got the best of us. So we cancelled and went to a place just down the road a bit. The resaurant had a beach town feel to it, you'd just as comfortable eating there in a nice oxford and kakhi's as you would in a t-shirt, board shorts, and flip flops.

Don't assume that, becuase a restaurant is less than a quarter mile from the water it will have good seafood. The mess that we were served smelled foul, but we had to give it a try. After all, maybe its supposed to smell bad here, we thought. NOPE! It was bogus, so we just moved it to a table far from ours, hoping the wait staff would get the hint and ask if there was a problem (which they didn't). We finished our beers, praying it would wash the demons out of our mouths and went on.

As kate mentioned, we went to a bar and fell victim to the drunkest guy in Napier. It was still fun though and reminded me of how friendly the Kiwi's had been so far.

Napier to windy Wellington, more sheep, cows and bar mountains. Wellington seems to be a vibrant cosmopolitan city. Everyone here is dressed in the newest fashion, guys with thier faux hawks, expensive designer sunglasses, expensive jeans and sneakers, and the girls with their hair died a million shades of blonde, pointy designer high heels, and expensive dresses. Similar to the styles that you'd see in Dublin.

Still craving some good seafood we decided that we'd buy some fresh fish and cook it ourselves. If you want something done right, do it yourself I say. So we bought some monk fish, that for all I know could have been caught a million miles away and shipped here. We cooked it back at the backpackers and I felt a bit sheepish as I pan seared it with butter, garlic, salt and pepper, and white wine (Mission Winery Chardonay) while our backpacker brethren made ramen noddles, or spaghetti. One Aussie was compelled to say "Now thats a right propper meal". I didn't know if I should say thanks, or blush with embarrasment but it was well worth the effort. None of the fish went to waste and the resident cat even partook in the feed.

We met a couple of guys, one 22 year old Swedish adrenaline junky, and a laid back 29 year old Brit. They met in Australia and had been traveling together for a while, although initially I though they might be "together" both mentioned girlfriends. We had a nice time hanging out untill the walk home from the bar when the discussion between the Brit and myself turned to politics. Now I'm ok with people having legitmate opinions and view points but this guy was off in outerspace.

He was confident that the US government perputrated 911 for the sole purpose of securing oil. That sort of conspiracy theory just angers me and I was still mad this morning. Oh well, I just tried to calmly explain that there is no basis in fact for this theory but he seemed reluctant to conceed.

So that pretty much brings you up to day aside from our time in Auckland. The only thing I'll mention about Auckland is that it was a very cosmopolitan city and a fun place to visit. The most memorable things in Auckland for me were the terric Japanese food we had at Tanuki and a private yatch.

First, Tanuki was a small Japanese sake house. They had a long list of fancy sake for the taking and I chose one that was in the "Traditional Plain Ol' Sake", it was served chilled and was very nice, so nice in fact that I had two 150 ml servings. We ordered 8 cali rolls and 8 spicey tuna rolls and they were awesome! The atmosphere was jovial and relaxed and the wait staff were attentive and friendly. If I ever find myself in Auckland, Tanuki will be a first stop.

Now this private yatch. It was a converted ocean going tug I estimated at between 150 and 200 feet long. The ships name was Arctic and based out of the Bahamas. At first I assumed her to be a reserch vessel given the name and it being docked in a NZ port. I was shocked when one of the deckhands said it was privet. She was beautifully maintaned and had no less then 6 or 7 smaller boats on board ranging from 20 foot whaler, a 30 foot cruiser, a speed boat, a number of smaller craft like zodiacs. Aside from the boats there must have been a half doze jet ski's. At the stern where I estimate the towing gear would have been prior to the conversion was a large tiled pool, jacuzzi, and pool bar. Impressive to say the least. We were dieing to know who owned it but were too shy to ask the deckhand.

Tomorrow, we are off to the south island and I'm hoping we can slow down a bit. I purchased a guitar yesterday and I'm eager to find a session here in New Zealand but unlike Boston, there are not many and as fate would have it, they are never going on when we're in town.