Let's begin shall we.

Having quit the Waiheke job, the need to write about it no longer exists. Instead, here are the highlights.

Ferry to island from Auckland. Twenty eight dollars. Half hour. Camping at lodge stupidly expensive. Too many mosquitos. Work easy but low paid. Nice people. Surprisingly few Germans. Too many French. BBQ on little Oneroa beach was pleasant but. Too many Mosquitos. Nothing to do on island. Weather was good. Everything far too expensive. Left for Christmas break on the twenty fourth of December. Never returned. Too. Many. Mosquitos.

At the time of leaving the job on the twenty fourth, the return date was set at the fifth of January. Two weeks as it has proved, was far too generous as the fun and the traveling over the Christmas and New Years break led to the decision that another three weeks on the expensive Waiheke would not be worth the effort. Especially considering the blandness of the place and the questionable hygiene standards of the accommodation. Thus two days ago on the fifth of January 2009, via the wonders of the textual message, the job was quit and the ferry missed and thus yesterday planning commenced for the next moves of these now much more interesting travels.

The Christmas and New Years holiday at first looked to have been complicated by Tom's sudden departure to South Island five days before Christmas. An act that represented a level of spontaneity in him that I'd previously never suspected, due to highly evasive skills. However, a pair of invites for Christmas and New Years arrived one day on Waiheke when Kerstin (see Taupo 28th Nov blog entry), came riding into my lodge for a visit on that well ridden bike of hers. Working over Christmas in City Garden Lodge's reception, she urged me to return. It was a no brainer to return somewhere familiar, close by and spend Christmas with a friend. The invite she then extended for New Years was much more interesting and eventually accepted with much excitement. I was to join her on a trip to the remote Great Barrier Island, four hours North of Auckland, for five days and four nights to welcome in the New Year as far away as possible from the crowds, the fireworks and the excessive drinking…

Christmas Eve

Arriving at City Garden Lodge on Christmas Eve I was glad to be off the island, away from the stoner, hippy, posh, wine sipping prats that it so readily welcomed with open arms. Christmas Eve had a lot more in store than I had expected, once I had settled down Kerstin had me invited to join some of her German friends for a BBQ in Parnell. A German Christmas as it turned out is celebrated on Christmas Eve. And once the BBQ had come and gone, after I had finished defending British cuisine from the onslaught of the German hosts and after I had enjoyed the ready mixed cocktails in a tetra pack that everyone else found too sweat, we all headed off to midnight mass at Auckland Cathedral. Yes, midnight mass. No need to reread it, it definitely says midnight mass. It was a rather unique experience, relieved that I hadn't caught fire walking through the door we sat down to an hour and a half of carols, songs and outright barmy lectures from some funny accented guy in the most ridiculous dressing gown ever seen. All the while Kerstin smacking me in the mouth with the bobble on her Santa hat every time she turned her head. Funny that she is not religious either. A Santa hat in church.

Christmas

Despite the carols the previous night, it still did not feel like Christmas once the day final rolled round, the baking hot sun ensured that. As did the smell of the BBQ, a good turn out all in all. Once adequately stuffed with sausages, chicken, burgers, Christmas cake, mince pies and chocolate mouse the red wine Kerstin had put in the fridge having mistaken it for a Sauvignon Blanc was almost back to a decent temperature.

But before the wine and after eights (not a combination that should work and it didn't), we wandered up the road where Kerstin made the snap decision, both downing and flinging the remaining wine in her wine glass while running onto the link bus myself right behind her, to catch the bus because it was free on Christmas day. So at nine through until ten on Christmas day myself and Kerstin rode the Auckland city link route. The driver looking mightily unimpressed by the two giggling idiots who rode the entire city loop with him getting on and off at the same bus stop in Parnell.

Finally we got to sit down outside with the now fine red wine, the after eights and the mosquitos. Apparently the only two people still celebrating Christmas, we passed the rest of the night, drinking, eating, making fun of people through the kitchen window and generally laughing too much and keeping people (boring people) up in the close by dorms. We just laughed even more when one guy couldn't get his window to shut. Boring git.

Twiddling Thumbs and Cucumbers

The next four days were simply filler days, spending most of my time reading and ensuring that we had everything we needed for our trip to Great Barrier Island; we also managed to fit in a trip to see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (a film you all should see).

There is in fact a major incident that occurred on the night before we were due to leave and the morning we left. It led to us having to store our excess luggage in a friend's car without his permission or miss our ferry. It involved myself and Kerstin becoming "unwelcome" at City Garden lodge. And yet it still baffles the both of us. To tell you the full story would require a whole essay as long as this blog entry, so instead I'll leave it at this. We both had to catch the ferry to an island with next to no mobile phone reception, with no where to stay when we returned, our stuff crammed in and on show in the back of a dodgy backpacker's car in the street and both of us, especially Kerstin, very stressed as we headed off on our little holiday.

Great Barrier Island

Notes about Great Barrier Island

• It is bloody hot.
• It has no electricity.
• It has no running water.
• It has only one sealed road.
• It has a population of less than 800.
• It gets about one bar reception on my phone. Occasionally.
• Too. Many. Mosquitos.

As we arrived at the Great Barrier Island some three and a half hours after we had set off, we could not help but feel we were approaching Jurassic park itself. The only initial signs of civilization being the numerous expensive boats anchored around its shore. The first night was a quiet one, arriving at the campsite, we (Kerstin) cooked dinner on our tiny stove, annoyingly it was far better than anything I ever manage in a proper kitchen. We sat the rest of the night on the 'beach' and admired the campsites simply amazing location and the sunset over it.

The big day had arrived, New Years Eve. We made the most of it. Hiked through the forest for hours to get to a Christian camp where we both hired out sea kayaks and headed out to sea and around the many beautiful islands that make up the stunning Port Fitzroy. A short stop for lunch on the 'beach' before we paddled back to return the kayaks, we then hitchhiked and hiked our way back to the campground where we showered in ice cold stream water before we (Kerstin) whipped up another great meal on our frankly pathetic gas stove. As night fell, out came the expensive Syrah and dark chocolate, along with plenty of mosquito spray and citronella candles and we headed to the surprising barren campsites 'beach'. Unfortunately after about an hour the rain arrived. We managed to shift everything under the cooking shelter at which point the decision was made final, we would head, under the protection of the worlds smallest umbrella, to the boat club to join in the celebrations, exactly what we were trying to avoid.

Everybody was drunk when we got there. Kiwi drunk. Which is very drunk let me tell you. But it was small, friendly and surprisingly cosy to say it was basically a shed. What made us laugh later was the fact that the Maori DJ (who did his own singing all night), completely missed midnight. Kerstin and I feeling rather odd when we started the ten second countdown and no one else seemed to notice or care. Eventually at somewhere around ten past midnight the DJ, not even stopping the music shouted out "Happy New Year Everybody!". There was a brief cheer. Hug. Kiss. Recommence dancing and chatting. Not even any fireworks, seen or heard. It was surreal. It didn't feel like New Years at all, just as much as Christmas did not feel like Christmas. Brilliant.

Eventually we headed back, but Kerstin, having managed to find a pair of Germans with a boat in the shed/pub/club, secured us a ride back to the campsite at around two in the morning in a small flash light guided boat. When we returned to the campsite via the sea we joined in a rather subdued gathering by the beach where we received some free drinks and crisps. Rather proudly we out lasted the lot of them and no where near as drunk as expected. Not hitting the sack until about four thirty, five o'clock in the morning I'm not sure why we both thought it a good idea to get up at nine and go on the seven hour Cooper's Castle Trek that following day.

The rest of the holiday passed and on the third of January we headed to the airport/field to await our plane. And wait. And wait.

There was no plane.

It had been cancelled due to 'bad' weather in Auckland and now me, Kerstin and our six new travel companions (six richer, older and eventually drunker kiwis) were now stranded in the airport/bus shelter/field with the ducks and cows as the rain came pouring down. We would have to catch the midnight (slow) car ferry that would not get us into Auckland until around five thirty in the morning. Crap. So we all headed to the pub. An Irish one. This time with a real Irish girl behind the bar. As I said, it was a unique New Years. We ate burgers; Kerstin ate from the kids menu. We drank beer; Kerstin drank brandy straight. We listened to simply terrible live music and continued to dread the ferry.

Eventually we were on the car ferry, not the stunning low flying nine seat plane flight over the Auckland islands we had hoped for, but it is best not to dwell. We arrived back in Auckland at five thirty and luckily Kerstin had managed to secure us somewhere to stay with a German friend of hers. By Sunday the fourth, in a pub in Mount Eden everything was fine again. Unfortunately the following day, Kerstin was heading to the South Island. Yet another goodbye I did not want to make had to be made. And off she went. Though a thoroughly memorable two weeks had been had, perhaps even the best New Years I have ever had.

The Fallout

Unluckily for my bank account these two weeks made up my mind that I was not going to even consider Waiheke as an option. And so, as has been mentioned, I quit my job. The last few days have contained a lot of umming and ahhing. A lot of internet surfing, emailing and phone calling. But options have been identified and executive decisions made. Tomorrow I head to Raglan where I intend to take surfing lessons and go sea kayaking on Friday and Saturday. On Sunday I will return again to Auckland for one night before flying down to Christchurch on Monday on the search again for work or WWOOF, just with a big change in scenery. Until Then,

Matt Fitz