This North Island lark has become something of a chore. The past week and a half or so has not been the best. Sure we have done some spectacular things and seen some grand sights; we did the 17km or so Tongariro Crossing, for some rather unique volcanic mountain views, peppered with snow and colourful lakes, and we've done the odd skydive from 15000ft, and Ben and I leapt down this 180m flying fox into some canyon. We've been to a foam party and out on the town in Taupo, too, which was nice after having found so few people most places we've visited. Indeed, we met some Irish girls, one of whom was ridiculously scheming and forced ben into all sorts of homoerotic encounters we'd all rather forget. He got a drink for his troubles, though. And lots of photos of people none of us knew.

It's all been a bit marred by the schizophrenic weather and rather unfortunate circumstances, though. Our time in Rotorua, mine especially, was darkened by some hoodlums making off with my day bag, containing nothing of worth to them and a whole heap of stuff I myself could not easily replace, including passport and journal. A few rainy days, where we could hardly do anything anyway, were spent dipping in and out of policestations and trying to replace such stolen things. I'm yet to get a new bag, which paid its toll doing the tongariro hike as I had to use a bag with string straps. C'est la vie. We've recently got to Wellington and again I've had to faff about trying to replace my passport and such, but that should all be sorted tomorrow. Then we can get away to the South Island and finally put all this wretchedness behind us. Hopefully. That's not the end of our current woes. A few days previous Mr Lowe, had a run in with the law when he was done for speeding. Just earlier he pranged a car and is now off to the police station to report it.

The latter was not entirely his fault, our van is falling apart. All day I've been struggling to keep the engine going; you hit any big slope and it simply dies on you. It was when that happened that he swerved, being followed by other cars, and hit a parked vehicle. We couldn't find the owner, and it was a bit of a wreck anyway, but he opted for the honest option in reporting it. Hopefully it won't be too hard to sort out, and we have to visit the nearest depot anyway on account of our water tap does not work, and the shower door has fallen off (now held on by a shoelace). It's a rather sordid state of affairs, especially as it means we're living off filled up water bottles from whenever we can find a working tap, which is surprisingly not very often.

To make matters worse, this Wellington place we have ended up in for a few days, the capital where all these offices to sort such things out are situated, is hardly the most exciting city. Not for someone with a campervan, at any rate. There's nowhere to park, and the wind is tremendously annoying. It rained all the first day we got here, and finally finding a spot atop a hill to stop overnight we felt as though the van would implode or fall over the whole night as the wind rocked it. We've tried to explore around the area, looking for Lord of the Rings set locations, but it turns out they're all utter rubbish. Helms Deep is just some indecipherable quarry now. And today, after all that trouble with the van and a bunch of gravel roads, I drove us out of town for some 2 hours to get to some chasm walkway, a bunch of vineyards and a glowworm cave. The cave was shut and we'd missed all the vineyard tours. And who even knows where the chasm was.

This may have turned into some blathering rant, but its what our own inactivity and lack of stimulation is fostering. When we get to the South Island things should change, there will be sights to visit and see again. I shouldn't complain, anyway, in spite of it all we've managed to do at least 4 entertaining things the past week. The skydive was incredible, and the flying fox something of a thrill (though no one else seemed to make so much noise as Ben and I when we did it). And Tongariro was beautiful.

 I should also mention the shepherd's shemozzle, which can be an added bonus I left out of the email I sent. That was a strange affair of farming festivities we happened upon in a small village called Hunterville on visiting some relatives of Debs'. There were dancing ladies, alcohol and free excellent food (the first meat we'd had in days since our rations only allow beans and potatoes now), as well as sheep races. Sadly we missed the races, but it was a bizarre and unnatural experience all the same.

Also, another brilliant time we had, adding to the fascinating week we've had, was a walk we did along the Huka Falls. They were interesting in themselves, gushing torrents through some cliffs, but we went in the wrong direction for the walk and effectively just saw a dull country path that stretched for some 2 hours through sights we could've seen in any English village. The highlight was a sheep's skull we came across in the river. You may think that's not a very good highlight. It wasn't. 

Peace out homrbigos,

Phil