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From Auckland airport we took a shuttle bus to Queens Street where our hostel was situated. In true South American style the driver took our money and dropped us off in the middle of a bustling city, pretended we would find our lodgings nearby and sped off into the smog! Forty minutes, a few cross words and, regretfully, some damning of the bus driver later we found our base. We arrived at 7am and had to wait six hours before we could check into our room so we desperately grabbed forty winks on the nearest piece of padded furniture we could find. After check-in and the first shower we'd had in 48 hours of travel we locked away our bags and tried to find our bearings in a place where everything looks the same but where you never see the same thing twice! As it happened to be my birthday we took a walk out to Auckland harbour and enjoyed a couple of cocktails at "Minus 5' to celebrate. "Minus 5" is a small bar that is, rather aptly, -5C. There, everything is made of ice; the bar, the walls, the ornaments, the furniture, even the glasses which we ate after we had finished our drinks. We donned inuit-style coats, boots and gloves and began the ludricous process of forming icicles on our noses whilst drinking some strange vodka-based cocktails. It was immensely fun and although we didn't stay long, for obvious reasons, it's certainly worth trying atleast once. Following our arctic toast we had dinner at a local chinese restaurant but left early when jetlag kicked in and I fell asleep at the table at a rather embarrassing 9pm. After buying supplies for our onward journey, the following day, we picked up a wonderfully luminous green camper van named Jucy. We encountered a few problems with credit cards but two hours later, after a very helpful mother-in-law had saved the day, we hit the open road. We headed north to the Bay of Islands and stopped for an hour at Opua marina, an endearing little place used by the locals to moor their fishing boats, and watched the sun bouncing off of the chopping waves. We drove further onto Paihia where we were able to take in some breath-taking scenes of numerous white sand beaches at low tide. We left the Bay of Islands and travelled further north towards our predetermined campsite near to Mangamuka Gorge. For those of you wondering where your car keys or your reading glasses are or, for those who are pondering the whereabouts of that sock that went into the tumble dryer never to be seen again: they are in Mangamuka, New Zealand's answer to the Bermuda Triangle! We drove up and down the same windy road looking for the campsite for three hours before reluctantly giving up when the fuel light came on and we realised we were atleast 60km from any town or city. We found a gas station just in time after 80kms worth of 'Wrong Turn' and 'Jeepers Creepers' flashbacks, in small town south of Mangamuka which I can only describe, for want of a better word as redneck! With sleazy looking motels, burnt out cars and nothing for miles we realised we would have to spend the night at a local campsite that charged a cheeky 20 bucks per night. It was truly awful and quite clearly the large front yard of a local man who was seizing the opportunity to make a few extra pennies. So, we left early the next day to avoid having to pay and to ensure we kept our wheels! We headed back past Managamuka towards 90 mile beach and to our frustration and amusement found the campsite we were looking for the night before. With great ease, I add. The drive was long and the day was hot but we made good time and arrived at 90 mile beach just after midday to find oursleves completely alone in the vastness. Miles of sand dunes, foliage and thundering turquiose waves were there just for us and so we spent the aternoon taking full advantage of that fact. We waded, swam, ran and bathed in the enormous sun until late afternoon. We drove, shortly after, to Aeuroi Forest, a 'Lord of the Rings' site, and cooked dinner in Jucy. It became late far too quickly and we stayed at Managmuka Gorge, silently promising ourselves never to speak of that place ever again! We made a very early start the next day as we had planned to meet some friends at their home in Waiuku, south of Auckland. We had met Ben and Gina in South America and they had been extremely helpful and knowledgable about New Zealand, their homeland. The day was spent making our way through Northland and Auckland still astounded by the never-ending scenery until we reached Waiuku in the evening. We arrived at Ben and Gina's welcomed by the most amazing view of the miles of surrounding farms and woodland. After dinner, our friends invited us to spend the night there, an offer we quickly accepted. Whilst sleeping in the back of a car, being slowly eaten by mosquitos and peeing all over your own toes in the bush every 3am is an experience to savour, I've learnt never to turn down the opportunity of a warm bed and hot shower! A wonderful night's sleep later we said goodbye to Ben and Gina and made our way back to Auckland to visit Kelly Tarlton's Aquatic Adventure Centre. Kelly Tarlton was a marine biologist and arctic explorer who, just before his death in 1985 opened the centre in attempt to educate people about the ocean and Antartica. I loved every second of the day here where we began by watching the giant stingrays feeding. These 'flat sharks' were enormous, extremely curious creatures and fascinating to watch. After the feed we managed to spend a few moments speaking to one of the divers who told us that after the infamous death of Steve Irwin hundreds of rays were being discovered dead and washed up along the coasts of New Zealand and Austrailia. It became apparent that people were deliberately executing these innocent creatures in their own homes as the media coverage of Irwin's death and mass public hysteria increased. The naivety of some people continues to astound me. We then boarded our 'snowcat' a small tram that would take us around a simulated Antarctic environment that housed the penguins. It was feeding time here too and I was completely in my element watching these beautiful animals completing a daily routine with such elegance. Much to my delight it was also hatching season and I was priveleged to witness penguions warming their eggs and two newborn chicks huddled beneath the feathers of their parents. If I had managed to conceal my excitement when entering the 'snowcat' I certainly hadn't upon leaving and must have resembled a four year old shortly after guzzling a handful ofblue smarties! Needless we immediately returned to the 'snowcat' and went round again! We spent the afternoon exploring the aquatic centre, watching the feeding of all sorts of wonderful animals including piranha, eels, kingfish, seahorses and Oliver the octopus. Oliver has been the cause of much mystery at Kelly Tarlton's. Last year over a period of two months staff would come to work in the morning to find one less crayfish in the tank. As the number of crayfish quickly and steadily decreased the mystery unravelled as shells were found in Oliver's tank. Staff staked out the centre one evening and happened to witness Oliver wiat untill all of the lights had been turned off, push the lid off of his tank, make his way slowly across to the crayfish tank, spend the evening feasting on some poor unsuspecting lobster before making sure he was back in his own home before the lights came on in the morning, without forgetting to place the lid back on! Rumbled, poor Oliver now has weights on top of his lid. I guess nobody told him that perpetrators should never return to the scene of the crime. Before we left we watched the shark and turtle feed and Dan managed to sneak the crayfish a mussel or two. The next morning we drove to Hot Water Beach on the east coast where we dug our very own thermal pool. The geothermal activity in the area means that digging a hole less than a foot deep produces a natural hot pool as water, heated by the volcanic sulphur in the area, rises to the surface. We spent a short time relaxing in our hot pool before the tide came in. We invested the rest of the afternoon on the beach making our way through the rocks and formations before the incoming tide could catch us. At high tide we had no choice but to leave this wonderous place, drive south to Rotorua and camp just outside Volcanic Valley.
Thought of the Day: Cars, 'they' say, are bad for the environment. But one has to wonder if the environmnt is all it's cracked up to be given the number of seriously suicidal bunnies out here...
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