The R&R Big Adventure

Nirvana or not?

Despite not getting much sleep on the plane to New Zealand, and being awake since 2am local time, Thursday was remarkably productive. We went food shopping, R went for a short run, and then we took a leisurely walk round the harbour to downtown Auckland. Its compactness means its equivalent City, Docklands and West End are a short walk apart from each other: the big four accountancy firms all having shiny, waterfront glass boxes five minutes’ walk from some very smart apartments. There are worse places to be an accountant. It almost felt Scandinavian, in that the city was very clean, walkable, and with very little graffiti. Certainly on this walk we didn’t see shabby shopfronts, or numerous empty retail units. We continued the reconnoitre with a trip up the famous Sky Tower to get our bearings. From the top we could see how quickly Auckland becomes low rise residential again: the amount of bays, headlands and islands it has translating into lots of waterfront homes that are a short drive from the centre. We were struck by how green the city is too; the volcanic history of the region also became quickly apparent with the many dormant volcanoes that are now hills or islands clearly visible. This looked like a very nice place to live.

After seven weeks in South America we were missing some British comfort food. Finally being able to get some decent sausages in a supermarket again, Thursday’s dinner was homemade Toad In The Hole. We crashed and burned soon after we finished it.

We awoke on Friday morning to beautiful blue skies. Feeling much fresher, we got the 9.20am ferry over to Waiheke Island, which had been recommended by a couple of friends. And what a lovely island it was – we walked around nine miles across it, passing gorgeous bays, quiet beaches, little cafes, and then small vineyards dotted inland. We stopped at one for lunch, admiring the views of the hills opposite. We thought there must be a catch to all this, some kind of dark undercurrent we didn’t know about. Nowhere in the world we had visited before had such consistency of immaculate houses, well-kept gardens, friendly, smiley staff, or such clean roads and beaches. What happened to the disaffected youth with a spray can? The mum screaming at her five feral children? The housewife who didn’t smile at every stranger? Or the neighbour who didn’t paint his clapboard house every year? Are they quietly rounded up and deported to Australia every week? The only unfriendly person I had met so far was a Russian on the ferry over: too much attitude, and collagen, who snarled at me in a thick Russian accent that I had to move seats because my aftershave (I actually wasn’t wearing any) was giving her friend an allergic reaction. She got short shrift from me: we didn’t hear anything from her for the rest of the journey.

We thought we would try a couple of bars on Friday night, seeing as how we were in a new capital city. The choice of gay bar in Auckland is not huge; and our expectations were not great. However, one had the ambience of a student union bar that had not had any investment since the 1980s (and I assume had just been condemned, given the sink hanging off the wall), whilst the other was trying for a Western (cowboy) saloon / Polynesian disco bar / thrift shop-tut look, but with a twist of bad karaoke. Both had few customers. It was definitely rougher round the edges in this part of town (K Road); we weren’t in Waiheke now, Toto. It wasn’t just the jet lag kicking in at 10pm that sent us home early.

Saturday morning was one of our occasional admin/laundry days. Getting that out the way, we went to visit Mount Eden, a large hill a short drive from the city centre that gives great views back over the city and waterfronts. In the afternoon we met up with a couple with whom we share a mutual friend in London, and who had very kindly agreed to show us around some more of Auckland. They drove us to more of the waterfront areas, including where one of them grew up; places we would not have visited without insider knowledge. It was great to see familiar faces again, and the day finished with a delicious Thai meal with them in a neighbourhood restaurant – thank you Colin and Al, if you are reading this, for a lovely afternoon!

This morning was an early start – we had to check out of the Airbnb, but we also needed to pick up a hire car at the airport to start our tour of the North Island. We were driving up to the Coromandel Peninsula, which has some stunning scenery. Driving along the motorway the countryside looked almost British – until we saw several tall palm trees bordering a field, or a volcanic hill with cows grazing on it. After lunch in Coromandel town, we stopped at the Driving Creek Railway. We didn’t know what to expect, but it was the brainchild of a potter from Auckland, Barry Brickell, who settled there. He established a pottery, and needed a means to bring clay down from the hills above for his kiln. He started building a narrow gauge railway in 1975, which grew and grew over the years. It is now nearly 3km long, and winds through bridges and tunnels to a vantage point called the Eyeful (!) Tower, which has superb views over the peninsula. Scattered by the track are some of his, and his fellow potters, pieces. Quite eccentric, but very quaint. The pottery still remains to this day, and budding potters can attend courses there.

From there it was about another hour to Whitianga on the northeastern part of the peninsula, and our overnight stop. There is a beautiful long stretch of beach opposite our motel, which had barely a soul on it at 6pm. Like Waiheke, we keep thinking where are the boarded-up shops, the fast food vans, or the hordes of visitors that would be in every British seaside town on a sunny day in late Spring. We wonder, but to be clear, we certainly don’t miss them.