Breathtaking Beaches

At the end of my week in Auckland I headed south to Hamilton, where my aunt, uncle, and cousins live. The next few days were all about meeting and catching up with family; my cousin Elgan and his fiance Carly and family were over from Australia so there were lots of people to meet! I also got to know my cousin Harriet's little girls; Madeline, 3, and Violet, 8months. I became a firm favourite of Maddi's (still am!) and for the most part go by the name 'Aunty Jude', although there was a worrying few days at the beginning where I was 'The That!!'. I'm glad that name didn't stick.

As I didn't yet have my own transport sorted, I decided to do some day-trips using my Aunt Carole's car – she had broken her wrist in a kayaking incident and so was unable to use her car. My first day trip away was to Raglan. Raglan is a small town sitting on the west coast, and is internationally famous for it's surfing beaches – great waves for surfing but treacherous waters for swimming. The road to Raglan is very twisty and for the first time I was glad to be driving an automatic rather than a manual – the bends and hills would have made for a lot of gear changes! Along the rollercoaster road I drove, enjoying the beautiful scenery all around me, when I drove past a sign for a wind farm lookout point. Intrigued I slowed and pulled into the view point. It struck me as quite funny that with all the natural beauty surrounding me, this viewpoint turned out to be an empty car-park with no information signs, and only a couple of turbines in sight.

Once in Raglan I started trying to suss out the parking situation – there seemed to be lots of parking places, with either signs saying '60' or '120' in front of them. I figured this most likely meant parking for one or two hours was allowed, but went in to the tourist information centre to check. The girl there confidently advised me that the '60' and '120' meant 1 hour and 1 hour 20 minutes respectively; “what else could they possibly mean!?” she declared. I suggested 120 minutes or 2 hours, rather than 1hour 20; “oh, I never thought of it that way”, she said.

Raglan isn't the biggest place, but it has a nice harbour and some very interesting shops perfect for mooching about in, but dangerous for your wallet. After some considerable time and effort I avoided any expensive purchases and headed back to the car to drive down the coast to visit the surfing beaches; Ocean Beach, Ngarunui Beach, Manu Bay and Whale Bay. The views from the car were beautiful, and I stopped regularly for short walks. At Ngarunui Beach I parked up and headed down to the beach. The beach was deserted but for a couple of lone surfers out on the waves and a guy in the distance walking along the beach with a pack of about 8 greyhounds bounding around him. I slipped my jandals (flip-flops) off and walked along the black sand, allowing the water to wash over my feet. The beach was stunning; a long stretch of undeveloped coast stretched out before me, with the points of further land jutting out into the mist in the far distance. I spent a peaceful hour walking, photographing and enjoying the sea air, before heading back up the cliff to the car.

On the cliff-top I wandered through grasses, trees and native flax plants, just coming into flower, to the Four Directions sculptures. These four hinuera stone sculptures represent the four directions of the compass; West the direction of the setting sun and Hectors dolphins, North the direction of fire, the fire goddess Mahuika, South the direction of Tane Mahuta, mother earth, and East the direction of the rising sun, Tawhiri the wind god and the sky father Ranginui; and were created by the local community with the guidance of a famed Maori sculptor.

Ngarunui Beach was definitely my favourite part of the day; the endless views were breathtaking, and I stayed on the cliff-top a while longer taking it all in, before heading back to Raglan for lunch (avocado bagel – yum!) and heading back to Hamilton.

The Che Guevara Incident

My last full day in Auckland and it was up and off to the waterfront again to catch a ferry over to Waiheke; another island in the Hauraki Gulf. I had high hopes for Waiheke island; a place for millionaires to live and for city dwellers to escape to for days out. The ferry ride out was beautiful, leaving me in a pretty little bay called Matiatia bay. From here I took the walking track too the main north shore town of Oneroa. I had a wander up and down the high street and onto the beach. The beach was pretty enough, but I felt a little disappointed that it didn't blow me away with its beauty; maybe it was because the sun was hiding behind the clouds. I decided to take the bus east to visit Dead Dog Bay, where a private residence had opened its land as a garden and sculpture park for visitors to walk through.

Matiatia Bay

 Stepping off the bus I began what turned into a 30minute walk downhill to reach the sculpture park, by which point I was feeling pretty whacked and not in the best frame of mind to appreciate the gardens. I dutifully left my dollars (a rather over-priced 10$) in the honesty box, picked up a pretty ambiguous map, and had a flick through the visitor book; the latest comment simply stating 'Meh!'. Not to be put off I headed into the gardens. Some of the sculptures were great, and the gardens were certainly well kept, but I wasn't really feeling it and after three quarters of an hour later, I decided to head back to the bus stop; bearing in mind it was this bus or wait another hour!

My favourite Sculpture

The bus trundled along whilst I consulted my guide book as to what too do next. Feeling weary I decided to hop off at Little Oneroa, the next bay along from Oneroa. Here I sat on the beach and enjoyed a truly delicious lunch from Dragonfired – a little black caravan selling wood fired pizza, polenta plates and pitta pockets. Feeling full from a very yummy lunch indeed I walked back to Oneroa and onto the ferry terminal to go back to Auckland. All in all a good day, but I certainly felt let down in that Waiheke did not live up to my expectations, which had been growing in my mind's eye for weeks before coming out to NZ. I would definitely return to Waiheke, but next time I would go on a sunny day and try and visit some of the vineyards that Waiheke is also famous for; perhaps by not visiting these I missed this paradise island's character.

I wearily made my way back to the hostel from the city centre and collapsed for a few minutes before gathering my strength to go for a long hot shower. I had just grabbed my towel when in walked my chatty American friend. During a previous epic (one-sided) conversation he had told me all about his troubles finding a travel adapter for his iPad. In the US appliances run on less (wattage?) than other countries – something I can confirm with experience from my trip to NYC a couple of years ago, when full power on my hair-dryer was reduced to a breeze somewhat akin to an asthmatic blowing through a straw after a long run! As a result Phil said he needed not only an adapter to physically convert the American plug to a NZ one, but also one to convert the power so that his iPad could be safely charged without blowing up. About to head for the shower I spotted him plugging in his iPad; “Ah, I see you sorted your adapter problems then” I said in passing. “Oh yes I did! Now, you see in the US we run on a lower power..............”

I spent the next 45minutes listening to a detailed conversation on power adapters, data packages and pretty much anything else you can think of, whilst clutching my shower things and slowly edging to the door, opening the door, and edging out. Finally, as I am literally edging the door closed it clicks “Oh” he says, “are going for a shower? Am I keeping you?” “Yep” I cry and make my escape.

Closing the door I breathe a sigh of relief and bump straight into Edward, the resident psychic. “You alright Edward?” I ask as I pass him. “Not really no” he says and balletically twirls and slumps into a chair”. My dreams of a long hot shower, having once again been within my grasp, slipped away as I inquired what was wrong with his dad. Edward explained that psychic voices(?) had directed him to a certain bookcase, shelf, book, page, chapter. He wordlessly handed me the book and tapped the relevant section, saying “read it for yourself!”. I dutifully read the lines – a description of the death of Che Guevara. I resisted the temptation to ask if his father was involved in a communist uprising on an island nation somewhere near the US, and instead went for the vague “oh right?”. Edward went on to tell me that this clearly meant his father may die soon. I suggested he call his dad; perhaps this would reassure him, but Edward disagreed and instead said he would begin to grieve for his father. After a further half hour of discussions on psychic power and Edward still a little upset about the Che Guevara incident, I sheepishly made my excuses and headed for the shower, where there was now a queue.

Making Connections

My penultimate full day in Auckland took a slightly easier pace than the week had so far been. After a lie-in, leisurely breakfast and a lengthy chat with Sarah back in the UK I waited to be picked up for lunch by some very distant relatives.

My grand-dad back in the UK has been investigating the family tree for many years, uncovering some fascinating family stories along the way. During this he made contact with some living relatives of ours in New Zealand; David Webb and his wife Julie. Through grand-dad I arranged to meet up with David and Julie during my time in Auckland. Now, I am unlikely to get the correct direct relationship right (sorry grand-dad) but David's Great-Grandfather – Henry Webb, b.1826, d.1913 – is my Great, Great, Great-grandfather!

Julie and David arrived at my hostel and took me to their house, in Half Moon Bay for lunch. We had a wonderful afternoon sunning ourselves on the deck of their house, overlooking the bay, and Julie made a delicious lunch. All in all I was made to feel wonderfully welcome by them. During and after lunch we discussed the family history; David's Grandfather moved his family to New Zealand, where they had remained always in the Auckland area. David worked as a refrigeration engineer, initially on large container ships transporting goods worldwide, and even spent some time in the UK in London. David reflected with some regret that had he known of the family in the UK at that time he would have loved to have met Grand-dad and others. All in all it was a pleasant afternoon, and I am very glad to have met them.

Later that evening I went to bootcamp – and what a tough session it was! Despite at the time feeling like my lungs were going to burst, I successfully ran over 2km with a 10KG weight bag over my shoulders! Feeling pretty buzzed I returned to the hostel and bumped into Anton – the Aussie in my dorm. Seeing me looking the image of health (I.e red faced, sweaty, still panting a little) he asked what I had been up to. I gave him a brief outline of the class, and my fitness activities back home in UK. “Cool”, he says, “I used to do that kind of thing – I used to run loads and do weights – I had a six pack and everything”. “Oh yes?” I said, “yeh, but then I started smoking weed, and drinking beers. Now I have a big gut and I'm really unfit”, he looked a little crestfallen. I expressed sympathy and suggested it wasn't too late – he could get fit again; “nah” he said, “think I might just go for a beer....” I feel Anton and I really connected over this conversation – a true meeting of minds!

Coasting Along

Another early start was needed on Wednesday as I planned to walk across an entire country! The Coast-to-Coast walk in Auckland crosses New Zealand, admittedly not at it's widest point, from the Tasman sea on the West coast, to the Pacific ocean on the East. The walk is 16km in length and takes in as much of the Auckland green space as it can as it meanders through leafy suburbs into the city.

Looking fresh at the start!

One Tree Hill domain was the first parkland area I entered; the track taking me up and through green fields with new lambs gamboling about (it is New Zealand, after all!). I dutifully headed up the steep slope alongside mums pushing buggies, jogging muscle men and the odd adventurous sheep to the summit of One Tree Hill. This volcano was once the greatest Maori fortress in the country, but its summit now bears the grave of John Logan Campbell, who gifted the domain to Auckland in 1901, and a memorial to the Maori people. Ironically, given its name, there is no tree at the summit, only a stump of what once was the last tree.

One Tree Hill summit, and a lamb!

I stopped for a few minutes to admire the 360º views; noting with a degree of satisfaction the distance I had already walked before noting with trepidation how far away the city skyline still looked! With this in mind I headed back down and continued on the coast-to-coast track through olive groves and parkland, passing rugby fields with players training hard, towards my next target; Mount Eden.

I climbed Mt Eden for the second time that week; by this time the sun was out, and I was baking in the humid heat of the day. Those tourists who had driven to the summit regarded my panting red-faced self smugly, but I didn't much mind, as I knew not many of them could say they had walked across a country! Back down the other side of Mt Eden I continued my walk heading into the city, past possibly the most enthusiastically pebble dashed building I have ever seen, into the third and final green space; Auckland domain.

OTT pebbledashing?

I crossed the grassy fields, with the museum up above me and followed a sloping path into the city centre. It wasn't long before I was at the quay and reached the end marker of the walk. All in all it took me 4hours to walk and I really enjoyed the day, although the mostly tarmac path had been tough on my feet, despite my wonderful new walking boots!

Hurrah!  The Finish!

After a celebratory juice (having learnt the hard way that smoothies in New Zealand ALL contain milk!) I decided to head back to the hostel for a lazy afternoon. I had a shower, got into cosy clothes and set myself up for an afternoon listening to music and doing some writing. No sooner had I started than one of my new dorm – buddies came into the room. We introduced ourselves and, being polite, I asked him about his trip and plans. Little did I know this would open up a flood of talk that would take up all my spare time over the next few days. Phil, a mid-fifties american, could talk, reaaaaaly talk! Seeing my walking boots, he told me he was a hiker, and had just arrived in New Zealand. I, rather proudly, told him of my successful coast-to-coast walk today (I had just walked across an entire country don't you know!). “Ah” he said; “That's kinda like what I'm doing; I'm going to walk the entire length of New Zealand over the next four months – about 3000kms!”. I won't lie; my pride was slightly dented...

Over the following four hours of conversation (all but 5minutes of it being his voice) we covered many varied topics; long distance hiking, walking boot lacing techniques, hiking permits, camping, sailing, the America's Cup, Sailing on the Young Endeavor, NZ mobile operators and data packages, the woes of finding travel adaptors and power converters, his opinions on NZ architecture...........

Many, many hours later, the other new face in the dorm appeared; Anton, an Australian in his thirties who had come out for a gap year. Anton listened/stared at Phil and I's lengthy one sided conversation for a while before announcing he was going to sleep and promptly turning out the lights on us and our conversation. I breathed a sigh of relief, then realised that, in the whole afternoon I had written two sentences. My disappointment then turned to dismay as I realised I had also failed to have dinner. Feeling mind-weary and hungry I tried to get some sleep.

Voyages of Discovery

Another early start was needed for my day-trip to Rangitoto. I left “Joyce” and the others fast asleep and headed to the ferry wharf at the bottom of Queen street to catch the ferry over to the volcanic island. Rangitoto is the youngest of Auckland's volcanoes, having erupted itself into being around 600years ago. The summit is 260m up from the water's edge and takes around an hour to climb. Leaving the Rangitoto wharf I began my ascent alongside around 30 others but soon left them behind so I could enjoy the peace of the island. The track isn't very steep but is tough on your feet, being formed of volcanic rubble, although I had it easy in comparison to the surveyors who first summited in the 1840s. The wife of one surveyor described how the ascent took them 3 hours and her boots were ruined by the jagged rocks and her merino wool dress was torn to ribbons.

I walked up the forested flanks of the volcano; Rangitoto is the home of New Zealand's largest Pohutukawa forest - the unofficial New Zealand Christmas Tree. Unfortunately the crimson flowers were not yet in bloom, but the lush green forest was striking, and the sounds of Tui's in the trees kept me entertained. I peered into the crater from the overhanging deck and headed up the final few steps. The views from the deserted summit were sublime, overlooking Auckland and the Hauraki Gulf. To the east, joined by a causeway to Rangitoto, is the grassy Motutapu island, which witnessed Rangitoto's dramatic birth. Gorgeous blue skies and sunshine perfected the views and I spent many minutes enjoying the scenery before continuing around the crater edge. On my descent I stopped to explore some lava caves, then took the kidney fern track back to wharf, where these ferns with their bean-shaped foilage densely populate the edges of the path.

Whilst waiting for the ferry back to Auckland I had a look at some of the environmental information boards at the wharf. Over the last three years, the DOC has been working hard to create predator free environments on Rangitoto and other islands in the Hauraki Gulf. This has led to a successful programme of reintroduction (both by humans and by own volition) of endangered birds. Alongside this, local conservation groups have worked hard to successfully reforest the once bare slopes of the island; the success of which I admired on my walk up the slopes.

I took the ferry back to the mainland, stopping en route to visit Devonport, a residential area seperated from the main city.  Its a quiet area with a small town feel and lots of pretty Victorian and Edwardian properites, which I viewed on a walking tour, for which I picked up a map and guide from the local i-site.  

Back on the mainland I treated myself to a gelato and headed to the Voyager Maritime Museum. Their displays trace NZ's maritime history from Maori beginnings to the modern day. Of all the many displays at the museum, I found the information on the first European explorations of New Zealand the most interesting. The first of these was by Abel Tasman, a Dutchman who in 1642 came upon 'a land uplifted high'; the Southern Alps of the South Island. Tasman sailed north up the coast and around Cape Farewell and anchored in a bay. After a disastrous encounter with the Maori, which resulted in deaths on both sides, Tasman named the area Murderers Bay (now called Golden Bay) and headed north again, skirting the North Island. He charted some of the country but failed to discover that this new land was a separate country and not part of South America. Tasman then abandoned New Zealand and went on to chart some of Polynesia and Fiji.

In 1769 two more European ships sighted New Zealand's shores, but had differing success. A French ship captained by Jean Francois Marie de Surville battled rough seas and suffered heavy crew losses through scurvy, before landing in Doubtless Bay. After some less than friendly interactions with the Maori Surville sailed east and lost his life trying to land on Peru's coast. Meanwhile Captain James Cook, captain of the Endeavour, sighted the east coast of New Zealand. His voyage had been gifted with more luck than de Surville, with his crew in much better shape thanks to Cook ensuring his crew take regular exercise on the ship's deck, and supplying the crew with limes to avoid scurvy (which is why we British are called Limeys!). After landing at poverty bay and meeting a defensive, angry population of Maori, Cook tried landing again further south and, with the help of a Tahitian chief he had on board, met and conversed with a more accommodating group of Maori. Cook went on to successfully chart New Zealand's coastline and study extensively the flora and fauna of the country and of the Maori inhabitants, who Cook described as 'powerful, aggressive and brave'. Cook's further two voyages allowed him to further study the Maori, writing in his journals that the Maori are 'manly and mild' in their dealings with him, and 'they have some arts among them which they execute with great judgement and unwearied patience'.

On the upper floors of the Maritime Museum were displays on the America's Cup. I smiled in irony at the small cinema room offering videos of 'The America's Cup 2013 Highlights' – there was no video playing. I wonder if there are some less than happy feelings still about New Zealand's defeat...

Psychics and Sightseeing

Breakfast in the hostel on Sunday had been a quiet affair; half asleep people hugging their mugs of tea and coffee and barely making eye contact. This morning was different, however. No sooner had I sat down than the gentleman opposite started up conversation with me. After discussing our breakfast meal choices; my porridge versus his slightly more oddball omelette with boiled vegetables, soy-sauce and a single shot of CocaCola, he introduced himself as Edward. My quick breakfast soon turned into a slightly longer one as Edward told me about himself. Born in Bristol, the son of a woodcarver, he moved with his parents to New Zealand when still a boy. Edward followed in his father's profession and also became a master wood carver, with one of his pieces permanently displayed in a church in St Albans. He then moved to LA and became a professional ballet dancer, performing worldwide. Whilst there he became spiritually enlightened and when he retired from ballet he developed his spirituality, returned to New Zealand and is now a psychic, able to talk to the dead, read auras and offer assistance to people in need of spiritual guidance. Makes my life and career so far seem a little mundane....

With rain forecast for the day, I decided to hide from the worst of the weather in the Auckland museum. The museum sits within the Auckland domain, a large green-space centred around the remains of another of Auckland's volcanoes; Pukekaroa. The museum, which also stands as a war memorial, is an impressive structure overlooking the domain and the harbour and provided me hours of interest with over three floors filled with artefacts and exhibitions. The museum's current headlining exhibition is Moana – My Ocean, which takes you on a journey through the ocean from Auckland's east coast to the distant volcanic Kermadec islands. It was a great display, not only showing the breadth of marine environments stretching away from NZ, but also the impacts the NZ people have had on the seas and the dramatic changes that occur when efforts are made to protect it. The variety of sea-life shown to be blossoming at the now protected waters of the Leigh Reserve has definitely made it a place I want to visit and dive during my time here!

The museum also has a wealth of Maori and Pacific Island artefacts, including an impressive 30m long war canoe, Te Toki A Tapiri (The axe of Tapiri), which was carved from one single Totara tree and was used to carry up to 80 Maori warriors on their patrols. The carving on this and other artefacts are beautifully complex – with the carvings often telling stories from the Maori legends.

On the museum's upper floors there is a fascinating exhibition on volcanoes. Given that there are over 50 volcanoes, mostly extinct, in and around Auckland it was a very pertinent display. Indeed it offered insight into what would happen were a volcano to erupt in Auckland tomorrow; “If your house is consumed in the fiery eruption but you somehow escape then don't worry – the city has a plan in place to look after you”. Feeling reassured I headed to the special exhibition on Sir Edmund Hillary and Sherpa Tenzing Norgay's conquering of Mt Everest in 1953, which offered a blow by blow account of the ascent. It was certainly an awe-inspiring endeavour.

Walking through the Auckland domain I came across the Wintergardens, complete with glasshouses and a fernery. This offered a half hour's peace as I nosed through first the bright springlike flowers and then the earthy forest of over 300 species of fern. I took one of the domain's 'bush walks', which led me down a quiet forested path alongside a stream to the edge of the urbanity. I headed into the city and negotiated the hectic Queen Street, the main shopping street in Auckland. I quickly escaped the hustle and bustle by ducking into St Patrick's; Auckland's catholic cathedral. By no means on the grand scale of European cathedrals; in fact it is positively modest in comparison, it had an airy atmosphere made magical by the organ being played whilst I paused for a while.

I returned to my dorm to find “Joyce” still present, puzzling as he had previously said he would be gone by this point. I enquired after his day; he said he slept too long, having gotten up in the middle of the night to smoke some weed, and missed the checkout time so had extended his stay by another day, and that he really hoped he would get up on time the following day. I suggested he use an alarm, and maybe lay off the late night smokes.

Auckland Museum

Lost in Translation

After my very own long dark night of over 12hours blissful sleep, I woke to my first morning in New Zealand. Determined to keep up my fitness that I have worked hard to achieve at Regfit in the UK I dragged my jet-lagged backside out of bed and across the road for a session of DRILL, a boot-camp that runs at various sites across Auckland. The locals were all super friendly, and the instructor, Kelly, was perfectly happy having a Brit-member for the week. The session, although slightly different to back home, was good fun and a good workout. In the course of the hour I learnt three things; firstly that while in the UK you have 'Stomach Down!!!' shouted at you as an instruction to drop to the floor on your front and jump (or stagger) back to your feet, in New Zealand you are instructed to 'do a Californian'. Secondly that while a half sit up whereby you move your hands from thighs to knees and back is known affectionately at Regfit as 'Dirty Old Man Sit-ups', in NZ they are, rather disappointingly, known by the less comedic term 'Little Crunches'. It is my mission this week for the UK version to catch on! My final discovery was that Burpees are still Burpees (damn!), and if you are unfamiliar with what these are, I advise you to count your blessings – at Regfit there is no such thing as too many!

Later on I laced up my walking boots for a stroll up the local volcano, Maungawhau, or Mt Eden. The climb up begins after only a few minutes walk along quiet residential roads, and soon curves steeply up the side of the mount. Mount Eden is named after George Eden, the earl of Auckland, whose name was also chosen as the name of the original capital of New Zealand – Auckland. It was once the site of a Maori pa, or settlement, and the crater at its heart was considered sacred, tapu, by the Maori and has the name Te Ipu Kai a Mataaho; the food bowl of Mataaho, the god of things hidden in the ground. After some forested track and a bit of tarmac I reached the summit of the 196m extinct cone volcano, Auckland's highest point. The panoramic views from the top were wonderful, and I stayed at the top for a while before taking a turn around the crater edge and returning back to the hostel.

the city, from Mt Eden

Back at the hostel I met a French Polynesian who would be sharing my dorm that evening. We exchanged names, which proved a lengthy process. My name proved pretty difficult from a pronunciation perspective for him, but after 10 minutes of repeating, spelling – in both French and English – and me humming the Beatles when things got desperate, he finally got it. “And your name?” I enquired. “Joyce”, he replied. Too tired to go through the rigmarole again, and knowing few songs with Joyce in them, I decided the best option was to say “ah OK, nice to meet you” and hope I would never have to refer to him by name again. We spoke a while and soon discovered we had snowboarding in common, both of us enjoying the sport but neither of us being particularly skilled at it. That, however is where our common interests parted. “Joyce” informed me that he is a surfer, but had forgotten his wetsuit and was here only for a night whilst he organised going back to French Polynesia. He went on to tell me how much he loves smoking weed, and how he doesn't respect the law, before announcing the conversation was over as he was feeling terribly angry. This announcement, coupled with his previous opinions on following the law concerned me slightly, until I realised we had another lost in translation moment on our hands. “Joyce”, it turned out, wasn't angry, but hungry, having a terrible case of the munchies!

Beginnings

Te Po, The long dark night

At the beginning of the world there was the long dark night, ruled over by Rangi, the sky father, and Papa, the earth mother. Their eldest son was Tane, god of the forests. Tane pulled himself free of his parents in the darkness and pushed them apart. He decorated his father, Rangi, with the sun, moon and stars and his mother, Papa, with plants and animals. The world was flooded with light and colour, but Rangi's sadness at being separated from his mate caused him to weep, flooding Papa's surface with oceans and lakes.

In Hawaiiki, the mythical ancestral home of the Mauri, there lived the demi-god Maui, who possessed secret magic powers. One day two of Maui's older brothers went out fishing in their waka, or boat, and Maui hid in the bottom of the waka so he could go with them. When the brothers discovered Maui they tried to return to shore, but Maui had cast a spell making the land seem further away than it was and so the brothers continued out to sea. The brothers wouldn't let Maui fish, so he took out his own special fish-hook made from his grand-mother's jawbone and cast it into the sea whilst chanting his magic. When his line pulled he held strong and with the help of his brothers (as the tug was stronger than any fish) brought to the surface Te Ika a Maui, the fish of Maui, now known as the North Island of New Zealand. The South Island is known as Te Waka a Maui, the waka of Maui, and Stewart Island Te Punga a Maui, Maui's anchor.

Maui was concerned the gods may not be happy with him having caught this fish, and went to make peace with the gods, leaving his brothers instructions not to touch the fish. However, Maui's greedy brothers fought over the fish and started chopping and pounding at the magnificent catch with their weapons. The blows they made created the mountains and valleys of the North Island.

Pretty magical huh.

Leaving and Landing

Its a funny feeling leaving. In the last two weeks I have left my job, my friends, my flat, my family and my country. And although it is me doing the leaving it does feel in a way like I am the one being left behind. Everyone else continues as before, mooching along their own paths whilst I have headed off on a totally new one. Saying goodbye to everyone was hard, I am truly going to miss my little life back in Hitchin and miss my family like crazy. But, as everyone kept telling me – its going to be an amazing adventure and one day my path will lead me back to everyone again.

My last day at work was a fun one. I did my first solo hip replacement – which was a great final challenge and learning experience. It wasn't long after finishing surgery that it was time for the awkward goodbye to everyone. Mr T said a few words of good luck and goodbye, saying that he spoke for everybody when he said he hoped I didn't like NZ, didn't get a job, and didn't get a boyfriend. Thanks Mr T!

Straight after work it was time to hit the road – Gemma & Ray's wedding and a uni reunion awaited. This was the last road-trip for my car and I; and true to form, my little FixItAgainTomorrow developed a problem with the brakes to add a bit of drama (and reassuring grating sound effects) for the trip.  The wedding was wonderful – Gemma looked absolutely stunning and the service was beautiful. Lunch with the uni girls was a happy affair – I love how we can not see each other for ages and just pick up the conversation as if no time at all has passed! We arrived at the reception having had a tour of the local area (apparently Lane Farm and Lane's Farm are two completely different places – oops!) and partied the night away. The night ended with fireworks and watching the happy couple head off to their hotel, honeymoon and beyond – beautiful!

The following day Punto and I rattled down to Devon to see my great aunt & uncle and my great-grandmother. I had a wonderful time down there, despite my nan's slightly dimmed view of the world – almost 99 and she shrugs at the thought of another year until she gets a letter from the queen - “and what good will that do me????”. Despite this we had a lovely morning together, looking through old photos and her sharing her memories, including my favourite tale of when she was at guide camp and would sneak away with her friends across the fields to the scout camp to see the boys!

Finally I returned to Hitchin and despite my poor packing skills the flat was finally ready to vacate. On the morning I was due to leave I headed to my last Regfit session and, more importantly, tea and cake afterwards! Another lot of goodbyes and a wonderful card from everyone. Regfit has been really life-changing for me over this past year – with the support of my friends I have achieved more than I ever thought I would or could!

Leaving my flat was a little sad, but saying that I will not miss my living room water feature – three years is a long time to live somewhere that has water pouring through the ceiling every time it rains – and my wonderful downstairs neighbour Barry who has gone out of his way to make me feel unwelcome during my stay! So, having stamped a goodbye through the floor to Barry's delicate ears, I headed up to Shropshire with my parents and a van full of belongings.

We headed to Reading for my last 2 days, so I could see my sister, her partner Fred and Leo the cat. These days were filled with goodbyes but also with a last minute mad dash round the shops to find a new pair of walking boots as I discovered my old ones didn't so much have a sturdy heel than a gaping hole and perished rubber! Mission was accomplished in a mere 6 hours and 4 shops! When not trying on shoes I managed to fit in catching up with old school friends Charlotte and Ruth – it is always great to see them and have a good old natter.

The drive to the airport was probably the most scared and upset I felt during all my gooodbyes – I think the finality of it got to me and by the time we got to Heathrow I was a bag of nerves. However once checked in the excitement took over and by the time I said farewell to my family I was smiling once more!

My flights were.... long! The first flight was pretty comfy – I had extra legroom – but I did have sat next to me a baby with her dad. Cue that sinking feeling of realising just how awful the next 11 hours could be. But my fears were unfounded – the baby was so well behaved I barely knew she was there! A few hours in Hong Kong airport were followed by the final leg of my journey – not as comfy but I was sat next to a really friendly guy called David – who was headed home to Dunedin following a few weeks holiday in the UK. We chatted about everything from Monster Munch to the America's Cup and the journey passed quickly.

We landed on time in Auckland and once though customs – having attracted the attention of the sniffer dogs for the lingering smell of apples in my rucksack – I got the bus out to Mt Eden and checked into my hostel for the week – Pentlands. I struggled against my tiredness for the rest of the day before I admitted defeat and crashed.

6 Pairs of Sunglasses

In just over three weeks I am flying to Auckland to begin my Kiwi adventure. In this time I have to finish work, attend a wedding, see my family and not only pack for New Zealand but pack up and leave my flat which has been my home for the last three years. As someone who has perfected the skill of burying my head in the sand and NOT getting things done I feel these few weeks are going to be high stress.

To say packing is not a strong point of mine would be an understatement. Don't get me wrong – years of Kennedy holidays driving across Europe has honed my skills of fitting things beautifully into the back of an estate car – but the thought of not being able to take everything and choosing what to throw, what to sell, what to donate, what to store and what to take has been hurting my head for weeks. Last week I went for two nights to Yorkshire to complete the Yorkshire three peaks with my Regfit family. For this I managed to completely fill my backpack which I'm taking to NZ. Not only this but I had an additional 2 bags, and this didnt even include my tent or sleeping bag! This is not an isolated event, my sister's other half routinely looks incredulous at the staggering amount of STUFF I bring with me for a night in Reading.

I have a luggage allowance of 20kgs. 20KGS!!! That's not a lot for a year's adventure. I am aware that there's nothing stopping me getting things out in Enza but I do think that it would be nice to say “I'm ready for anything” at the start of the trip without having in brackets afterwards “but I just have to pop to the shop first....”. I guess I shall have to adopt the relaxed go-with-the-flow kiwi nature I want to develop over my trip a little early AND prove to my first world self there are some things I CAN do without. Unfortunately every time I start thinking about what to take my mind fills with stupid conundrums such as – I own 6 pairs of sunglasses (I have NO idea how) – do I take 1 pair, 2 pairs, more? What shoes do I take? I have stupid sized feet so they're going to take up space – do I take heels? One pair of flip flops or more? Trainers and walking boots or trainers or walking boots? Oh to be decisive!

Packing up the flat is another struggle. I have the boxes and I have the stuff, but somehow the idea of putting things in boxes exhausts me before I even start. So far I have packed my photo albums up. But even this took weeks as I skilfully delayed by deciding I first needed to complete the part finished photo albums for previous trips to Norway and New Zealand. Cue many happy hours of cutting up photos and trying to be artistic. All very well and good but not technically packing. I know it'll all get done and I'll pull my finger out soon but cant help thinking that my heroic attempts to avoid packing is a good indicator of how worried and scared I am. I know its going to be the adventure of my life but at the same time its a big change. Don't get me wrong – I am so looking forward to it, but as my flight looms and so many constants in my life are coming to an end I cant help wondering if where I'm going will be as wonderful as where I've been. 

                                                       boxes, mess, and a kiwi!

 

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"No, no! The adventures first, explanations take such a dreadful time.”

  Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass