Hiking Rangitoto

Sunday last, a group of students from my uni accommodation organized ourselves to hike up Rangitoto, a dormant volcano about 30 minutes from Auckland by ferry boat. It's a cool location, because the volcano is the entire island, all volcanic rock and no soil, and yet it's somehow covered with, basically, a jungle. And once you hit the top, there's a great view of Auckland and the surrounds.

We were lucky to have a nice, sunny, not TOO hot day, although the humidity was a bit oppressive. We naturally divided into a few groups on the way up - Lydia and Brodie took the lead and made it up long before the rest of us, although in our defense, they didn't even stop for pictures. I was hiking with Ed and Clare, and a Polish girl named Ola, who was regaling us with tales of her hike up to the Everest base camp (amazing!!). And the rest of the group was bringing up the rear, a good 15 minutes behind us.

Once at the top, we had a bit of a lunch break, hiked around the crater itself, and then decided to explore some of the lava caves on the way down. The first one was great - super dark, and no one brought torches, but we made it through okay. The second required a climb down into a hole, which Brodie, Lydia and I decided against, but some people were quite excited at the prospect.

Including one man, Jim, a 45 year old American here getting some sort of Business PhD. Who slipped on the way down, fell backwards, and cracked the back of his head open! There was blood everywhere, he was white as a sheet, and we were all stunned. What to do?! The island is a natural reserve, so there's no infrastructure to speak of. We weren't sure he could even climb out of the cave, much less hike over an hour down the side of a volcano (a hike that the rest of us, hale and hearty, had some trouble with). Plus, while Brodie has first aid training and Clare is a nurse, no one had a full first aid kit - so instead of a nice bandage, poor Jim had to make do with a sterile bandage held on with a wadded up t-shirt and a pair of linen pants tied around his forehead.

We decided to call emergency, just to find out what our options were, but as soon as they heard that it was a head injury, they decided to send someone. Which meant a helicopter and a rescue team!! Brodie was left to guide the copter in, then we watched a rescue guy rappel down to the ground, guided him to the cave, and let him get to work. There were already a couple of people in the hole with Jim, so the rescue guy tossed down his first aid kit and gave instructions for proper bandaging while discussing evacuation possibilities with his partner in the chopper. Finally, we helped Jim out of the cave and walked him to high ground, and he was strapped into a harness to get him to the copter, and then flown out!

Turns out he didn't have a concussion, but needed stitches and was covered with bruises, so I think we made the right choice, even though he was quite embarrassed by the ordeal. After he was gone, we hiked back down, still had time for a bit of relaxing by the water before the ferry arrived, and then had some nice cold beers on the way back to the city. Other than the drama, it was a beautiful hike with fun people, and a great way to spend our Sunday!

Hunua Falls

This Saturday past, we had grand plans to hop in the car and drive a couple of hours to a lovely east coast beach. Ed and Clare could surf, and the rest of us planned on just enjoying the sunshine. Unfortunately, there was no sunshine, but instead black rainclouds looming overhead. That, combined with our very very late start, scrapped the beach plans.

Of course, we couldn't just stay in and do work! So instead Brodie, a Canadian student living in the same Uni accommodation as I am, suggested we go visit Hunua Falls, a great waterfall about 45 minutes drive from the city. We went, we hiked, we saw. And then we got lost on the way home. Still, though, a great way to avoid doing schoolwork!

Remuera Rotary Club

This past Monday, the 2nd of March, my host Rotary club asked me to give a brief presentation about me, my family and my studies. They want to hear from me in more depth near the end of my stay, but the president thought that this may be a good way for most of the people in the club to get to know me, and to get any research/recreation requests of mine out there. I talked for a few minutes, then chatted with some fabulous Rotarians after the meeting. Definitely a great group of people, and one I'm hoping to get to know a bit better as time goes on.

Roadtrip, Day 4

Saturday dawned just a little too early for some of us. We decided to head back to Auckland, and then use Sunday to drive south a bit to do some caving andblackwater rafting in these cool caves filled with glowworms. Nothing too eventful happened, actually. Got a late start, due to the late night we had on Friday. Went into town and the chef at Lee and Dave's restaurant cooked ourpipis for us - delicious! We did some scenic, but very slow, driving, saw a really old, really large kauri tree, and stopped for a spontaneous swim at a lovely beach on the side of the road. Made it back into the city about 10 or so, too late to catch the Symphony in the park we were hoping to see, but early enough to get up the next morning for our drive down toWaitomo.

Which, unfortunately, won't get its own blog post, because the next morning when we climbed into the van, it wouldn't start. Roadside assistance would have taken a couple of hours, too late for us to make it toWaitomo on time, so no luck. Hopefully we get down there eventually!

Roadtrip, Day 3

The next morning in Kaitaia dawned nice and rainy, of course, but we had plans, and weren't to be derailed. Lee took us into town for breakfast at the restaurant, and then we packed a picnic lunch (OK, we each grabbed a sandwich) and were on our way. First stop was Shipwreck Bay, a bay so named because there is an old battleship shipwrecked there. (Did I already mention a certain lack of creativity in naming practices here?) Generally, all you can see is the boiler pipe sticking out of the sand, but Lee said that once in her lifetime the sands had shifted enough to reveal the boat itself. And then, of course, bury it again.

Second stop was a showroom for carved Kauri trees. Apparently, the Kauri trees are like America's redwoods, giant and now protected. However, there are thousands of tons of felled Kauri that were buried under farmland for thousands of years, after some uncertain cataclysmic event. These trees have been perfectly preserved, and as they're already dead, aren't subject to the conservation efforts. Some farmer eventually realized that the trees might actually be a better source of income than corn (or whatever he was planning on growing), and the thriving ancient Kauri income stream was born. The showroom had some cool carvings - apparently, they have chainsaw speed carving competitions - and there was a giant Kauri converted into a staircase in the middle of the building, but really it was just a tourist trap, and we bought our hokey souvenirs and were off.

Our goal was to drive up to Cape Reinga, the northernmost point in the country, to take in the views. Then, we were going to return via the Ninety Mile Beach*, hopefully close enough to low tide to catch ourselves some pipis (some sort of clam, or clam-like shellfish) for dinner. The drive to the Cape was beautiful, but still rainy, and of course, when we reached the Cape, it was socked in by a thick, thick fog. I still insisted on walking down the path to the lighthouse/sign that marked the northernmost point, and once we arrived, we could see a bit better. If we squinted hard enough, we were even able to see the waves crashing together where the Pacific Ocean and the Tasman Sea meet, which was kind of cool.

As we headed back from the Cape (thankful for Lee the entire way - there was NO CHANCE our van could have made the drive), the weather started to clear a bit, and by the time we reached the sand dunes near the start of the Ninety Mile Beach, it was sunny, if still painfully windy. We girls climbed the dunes (which were giant, and looked like a lot of fun - tourists were sliding down on boogie boards), took a picture, and then quickly ran back down. Lee, the smart one, relaxed in the car and ate her sandwich. Wind and sand are quite a painful combination!

And then, to the beach! Lee was temporarily afraid we'd arrived a bit too late for the pipis, but fortunately she was wrong. We stood calf-deep in the water and twisted our feet around, digging in the sand for little groups of the buggers. The trick is that, once you find one, you can't lift your foot, or it'll burrow away. Of course, this meant bending down to pick them up in concert with incoming waves ... I was soon soaked through, and gave up any semblance of dignity, tucking my skirt around my neck for easier maneuvering. (Yes, mom, I was wearing my bathing suit.) A couple of tour buses drove by, no doubt amused by the spectacle (Lydia was in the same state of disarray), but at the end, we wound up with quite a catch.

On the way back to Kaitaia, Lee gave each of us a chance behind the wheel. I've never done beach driving before - isn't that illegal in most parts of the US? - so it was kind of an adventure, but I didn't get us killed, and only ran over one rock. (And in my defense, it was after Lydia had parked the car like a foot away, so I never saw it.)

Back in Kaitaia, we stopped for dinner at a fish and chip shop - place your order at the window, it comes back out to you, freshly fried and wrapped in butcher paper. Apparently, the traditional Kiwi method of eating fish in chips requires you to butter a piece of white bread, put the fish and chips inside and fold it into a sandwich. I could pretty much feel my arteries clogging, but I have to admit it was delicious!

And then, it was time for our girls' night out on the town. Lee had promised to take us on a pub crawl showing us all the night spots. First up, of course, was her own restaurant/bar, where there was a rowdy group of men watching a rugby game. We had a drink or two there, and then moved on to a bar one or two doors over, that was totally empty except for the bartender, who was her nephew. (Small towns are STRANGE.) After that, we went to a place called Nero (I think), which is apparently a front for all sorts of drug running operations, but also apparently the place to be on a Friday night. There were maybe 15-20 people in there when we arrived, which for Kaitaia I took to be a good turnout. We chatted with a couple of people, including someone that Lee later warned us about ("He's harmless, but, well, kind of a shark."), and then Dave showed up to take us to the final bar. Yes, the final bar - there are four. After a drink there, they made arrangements for us to get home, dropped us back of at Nero, and called it a night.

We stayed out until about 1, when our taxi showed up. Both Lee AND Dave had called him to make the arrangements, and we were his last fare of the night. They'd also arranged with the Nero staff to collect us when it was time to go, so that we didn't make the cabbie wait. The driver knew exactly where to go (which was good, as none of us knew the address), and when we arrived wouldn't let us pay, as it'd already been taken care of. Small town nightlife maybe isn't so exciting as here in the city, but the three of us sure had a good time!

*Interesting fact: New Zealand is of course on the metric system, but apparently that's a fairly recent change - like, within the last 40 years or so. Thus, the older generation still thinks in feet and miles, and there are still remnants of the old system to be found.

Roadtrip, Day 2

So the next morning, at exactly 8 AM, Kate's alarm goes off. We'd set it so that we could call the sky-diving company and try to make a booking for that day. But, of course, it was raining - and didn't look like it was going to let up anytime soon. Now, maybe it's possible to skydive in the rain ... but who would want to?? So instead, we all rolled over (figuratively, of course - there was NOT room enough in that van for anyone to actually roll) and went back to sleep.

About 10, we tried again to wake up. And this time managed, if only because we had to check out of the campsite before 11 or risk getting charged for an extra day. Time for a strategy session. Everything we'd planned for the Bay of Islands was pretty weather dependent, so we could either wait around and hope things cleared up, or move on. We decided to head towards the Cape, the northernmost point in New Zealand, in the hopes that maybe the storm was moving south. So after a breakfast of bread and peanut butter, and a quick stop at the grocery store for provisions for dinner that night, we were off!

We stopped at a couple of beaches on the way, which are supposed to be gorgeous in good weather, and had a coffee break in a nice little seaside town. Lydia suggested we head to Kaitaia, a town at the base of the 90 Mile Beach, for dinner. An old camp friend of hers was from there, and his parents have a restaurant there. Although she'd only met them once, when her friend found out she'd be traveling the north island, he suggested she look them up.

When we arrived, Lydia thought she recognized the owners immediately, but a bout of shyness kept her from saying anything until after our meal. Finally, though, she worked up her courage - and thank goodness she did! Lee and Dave invited us to stay the night with them, and Lee said she'd take the next day, Friday, off and take us up to the Cape herself!

After we wandered around the town for a bit, Lee was ready head out and we followed her out to her house. It was quite the drive, if only because Lee is a bit of a speeder, and our poor van has trouble topping 80 kph. Fortunately, we made it to her nice house outside of town, maybe a minute or two from the nearest beach. (Not that it was even kind of beach weather.)

Lee made us all dinner while we relaxed a bit with her grandaughter, and then we had a nice meal outside and a couple glasses of wine. When Dave made it home, after the restaurant closed, he and Lee updated Lydia on her camp friend's life and whereabouts, and we all made plans for the following day. And then, happily, we climbed into actual beds to go to sleep. It's amazing how grateful we were after only one day of sleeping in a van ...

Roadtrip, Day 1

When I made my travel arrangements, I decided to arrive a week or so before orientation, to give myself a chance to explore Auckland and the North Island a bit before school. Fortunately, I wasn't the only person with this plan, and my friend Lydia - another Rotary scholar, from North Carolina, getting her masters in Creative Writing - suggested that we rent a camper van and explore Northland for a few days this past week.

Because we were planning with so little advance notice, and because it's the end of summer vacation here, our options were quite limited. However, a company called Wicked, which rents out vans all over the world, had an open vehicle, so we made plans to leave at 9:30 Wednesday morning for a few days of fun with her flatmate, Kate, a German undergrad student here on exchange.

Of course, we did NOT get off to a smooth start. Lydia and Kate had located Wicked in downtown Auckland, but it turns out that when the reservation was made, it was made at the main Wicked location out in the suburbs. Once we noticed this, Lydia gave the company a call, but there was no option - instead of a leisurely 15 minute stroll, we had to find a bus station, hop the number 012 bus, and ride a good hour out into the suburbs. And then wander around Onehunga until we found the place, which was not as easy to find as we'd been promised.

When we arrived, I was a bit taken aback - the vans were all painted with crazy cartoon characters and marginally offensive slogans. My favorite was the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles van, but we got stuck with "Captain Caveman," which Lydia adored. However, the slogan on the back left something to be desired: "A blowjob is a great last minute gift." (Sorry, Grandma.) Definitely in bad taste, but whatever - we gave it a chuckle and moved on.

The van had been converted to contain an eating/sleeping area, and then a tiny kitchenette in the trunk. This meant that the three of us had to share the bench seat in the front. Not as comfortable as it sounds (and I'm well aware that it doesn't sound comfy at ALL), but certainly an amusing way to spend a few days. Lydia volunteered to drive first, and actually wound up doing most of the driving - good for me, because then I didn't have to drive a giant automatic transmission van on the wrong side of the road, and good for her, because she gets carsick otherwise. After a brief scare - we had to drive back through the city, and accidentally exited the motorway on a poorly marked offramp - we were off and running! Our first destination was Paihia, the tourist gateway to the Bay of Islands. We had grand plans for the Bay of Islands - kayaking, skydiving, even a motorboat trip out to the famous "Hole in the Rock" (Kiwis aren't super creative when it comes to naming things) - but arrived too late on Wednesday to do much more than relax on the beach.

Not that we minded, of course. We checked into a campground, changed into our bathing suits, and wandered over to a nearby beach. The water was lovely, and there were two Maori men there. Lydia, who's trying to gather traditional stories from all segments of NZ society, struck up a conversation, and they promised to tell her some stories if we met them out at a bar later that night.

Thus, after a pasta dinner cooked in the campground kitchen, and a nicely chilled beer (or two), we headed into town. The gate to the campground closed at ten, so we had to make the 2 mile trek by foot, which meant we were pretty late for our pre-arranged meeting. Fortunately, the guys were still there, and Lydia spent the evening getting all sorts of great material for her collection of short stories. Kate and I, meanwhile, made friends with quite the variety of drunken underage travelers, as well as a guy who claimed to be half Kiwi and half Scottish, and thus technically "a local."

We finally headed back to our campground, when the bar closed at 1:00. The Maori men lived fairly close to the campground, and so intended to walk us back. However, with about 1/4 mile to go, we were stopped by the police. Apparently, there had been an 'incident,' and so they insisted on driving us the rest of the way. We asked once we were in the car, and they told us that they were bringing in a drug dog, and so didn't want to confuse it by allowing additional people to walk through the area. Seemed odd, but whatever the truth, it saved us a bit of walking and a few minutes. So about 1:30, we finally climbed into "bed" in our camper van. Not the most comfortable sleeping arrangement, but after the day we'd had, we were all asleep as soon as our heads hit the pillows.