Waitangi 2nd-6th Oct - Peter - Waitangi, New Zealand
Waitangi, New Zealand
To reach the Bay of Islands, our final destination on the Northland, we turned off Highway 1 for Highway 10, just prior to reaching Kaitaia. A scenic drive took us past cow fields to Doubtless Bay, where we parked up by the beach for lunch. We reached the Bay of Islands by mid-afternoon, choosing the first holiday park we came across, in Waitangi, due to its convenient location for the beach, local walks and a supermarket.
The holiday park was a more organised affair here: we were allocated one of the flat gravel spots and found a well equipped kitchen complex, also containing the bathrooms with hot showers. The sun was shining brightly so we wasted no time in heading out to explore our new surroundings. The campsite sits on the bank of a river estuary into the Bay of Islands, so we soon reached the promenade of the bay. The clear blue water looked very inviting for a swim and within a few minutes I had stripped down to my swimming shorts for a quick dip in the Pacific Ocean. Thrashing about to keep warm in the cool choppy water I only stayed in for a few minutes, but emerged 'tail wagging' as Priya described, feeling most refreshed!
Happy I had been given my exercise for the day we continued along the promenade, passing the site where the Waitangi Treaty was signed in 1840. This is regarded as the founding document of New Zealand today; one which the Maori signed with the British Crown, effectively handing over governance of the country to the British. We tried to think what set of circumstances led to the Maori agreeing to the treaty in a land that they had arrived in first, or whether their hand was forced. Since then there has been a fair amount of tension between the Maori and Pakeha (white Europeans), only eased in the last few decades by attempts to settle land disputes. In recent times the government would claim to have made an effort to preserve Maori ‘culture’ by presenting stories of legends at various tourist destinations. Except culture changes with time; New Zealand seems to be steering towards an era of Americanism, with ‘drive thru’ establishments all over the place! It is hard for traditional culture to survive in a country where its people are a minority (15-20% of New Zealanders are Maori); the striking tattoos are as popular as ever, but even the Maori television channel was using the English language when we flicked over. What is being preserved well though at least, is the Maori heritage, for which tourism is very beneficial.
Moving on from social commentary, we followed the flagstones, painted with flags from countries around the world, to Paihia, just over a mile away. Island and dolphin-spotting trips were advertised here, but exceeded our budget, much like a lot of the tours in New Zealand. After a milkshake we returned to the holiday park for dinner. Priya made friends with next door’s collie whilst I made a start on another outdoor meal, of pork, fried bread and salad.
The clear skies had remained overnight, revealing the vast array of stars once more. We enjoyed brunch of boiled free range eggs the next day, yolks as golden as the beaming sun above our heads. Today then seemed like the perfect day for a walk to the waterfalls 5km up the river. The path began at the golf course, just over the road bridge from the campsite. Immediately we had to push through a turnstile to enter a large fenced area of bush; herein dwelled a population of kiwis – the iconic flightless bird of New Zealand. New Zealand is thought to have been isolated from the rest of the world for quite an extended period of history. In this time, birds like the kiwi have favoured developing their legs over their wings, in order to pound the forest floor in search of fruit, seeds and insects. They thus became flightless; with no significant indigenous predators present they had no reason to fly. That was, until the Europeans arrived, clumsily introducing rabbits to the country’s ecosystem. The rabbit population boomed, prompting another introduction, this time Mr Stoat, to try and control their number. The stoats unfortunately, had other ideas, preferring a lunch of kiwi eggs, or even the young birds themselves, over the intended target. Over the following years the numbers of flightless birds dwindled, with rats (inadvertently introduced after being carried over on ships) and dogs exacerbating the problem. A few decades ago, efforts were made to try to preserve the remaining populations of flightless birds. Bush habitat areas such as the one we walked through, are fenced to keep out dogs, but the wily stoats remain a problem. Traps marked by coloured triangles are set up sporadically in the national parks, but the battle remains an uphill one – not helped by the fact that Mrs Stoat lives perpetually in a state of pregnancy!
From vegetation of ferns, yucca-like cabbage plants and beech trees the ever varying and surprising landscape of New Zealand changed again, to that of mangrove trees. Crossing over the right hand fork of the river to the middle bank we were thankful of the boardwalk over the muddy silt out of which the mangrove trees grow. The river is still tidal at this point; with the tide being low, the vertical spikes making up the roots of the trees were clearly visible. Before we reached the waterfall we were treated to one last spectacle: large seabirds swooping in to their tree-top nests to feed their noisy and hungry chicks, all viewed at eye level as the path had climbed further up the bank at this point.
Arriving at the waterfall the sun was sitting just at the right angle to cast a rainbow over the cascade. It felt like we had been on a comprehensive photography course, taking shots of wildlife and trees, both close-up and distant. All of this done in varying lights from the shafts penetrating the shaded forest to sparkling waterfalls. An Indian couple spotted Priya taking a photo of a white flower, one which they had photographed in snow on the South Island, and spoke enthusiastically of the sights we could look forward to there.
It was then time to return to Waitangi: the 4km march along the highway being something of an anti-climax. It did bring us home quickly though, in time to eat out at a restaurant in an old ship, permanently moored to the river bank, a few hundred yards from the holiday park. Dinner of fish and chips, with a refreshing beer, made for the perfect end to a fine day.
The following morning the sun remained out, now accompanied by a strong breeze – perfect conditions for a laundry day! We had also ear-marked today as an ‘internet day’. Unfortunately the internet was mostly used looking for solutions for Priya’s eye problem. She experienced another corneal erosion attack overnight and with the lacrilube seemingly not preventing attacks we were running out of options. An expensive phone call to Auckland Eye Hospital went nowhere and the pharmacy would not accept a self-written prescription for steroid eye drops. Priya emailed her friend Jenni, an old F1 colleague who we would be visiting in Christchurch, asking if she could write her a prescription for the drops. Finally we researched a rather novel solution of using a zero-power ‘moist’ contact lens to act as a bandage, which we ordered from the UK to be delivered to Hannah in Australia. Neither of these would deal with the immediate problem however. Priya messaged our church community at home for prayers and we found one last option to use a makeshift compression over the eye overnight to keep the lid shut (tying a scarf round her head with an eye patch!).
It might have been the prayers or the compression, but the eye behaved itself overnight for the first time in days. Buoyed, we hit the road for a return to Auckland, driving west first towards Omapere for a different route back. Omapere sits at the mouth of a long inlet of water from the sea and contains a rather hungry population of sparrows. After feeding the birds we continued down the west coast, winding up through the mountains to the ancient Waipoua Forest. Just a couple of minutes walk from the road stands one of the oldest trees in the world: the Giant Kauri Tane Mahuta. We could not quite believe how wide the trunk was of this monster, which has been alive for an estimated 2000 years!
The road eventually worked its way back via Dargaville to Wellsford, where we once again stopped for food, this time a delicious salmon and spinach pizza to share at a stylish café, which would not be out of place on Lark Lane in Liverpool. The final leg of the day’s driving was to Helensville, where we planned to stay at the nearby hot springs park. Unfortunately a large and rather noisy Maori youth group had the same idea, somewhat dominating the holiday park. The singing did provide us with some entertainment before things eventually quietened down enough for us to get to sleep.
After cleaning the van and refilling the LPG we decided to catch the Sunday morning service at a church in Helensville, before our return to Auckland. All seemed to be going fine until the pastor showed an unrelated video clip of the Israeli prime minister quoting ‘scripture’ about Israel defending the ‘Holy Land’. This was followed by what appeared to be further Zionist remarks, accompanied by enthusiastic nods and shouts of "Amen!" and “Come-on!” from the front row. We both glanced at each other wondering how a church could portray a one-sided view on such a sensitive topic as the Arab/Israeli conflict – a struggle which has involved suffering on both sides. The issue was a particularly raw one for us, having read around the subject on honeymoon (of all places!) after watching a Louis Theroux documentary, observing expansion of illegal Jewish settlements in the West Bank, forcing out Palestinians in the process.
It was now midday and we were feeling rather weary as the fifth (yes fifth!) speaker steam-rolled his way though another preach topic. Tension boiled up in our stomachs once again as he quoted a Jewish friend of his, claiming God had “Super-naturally cleared the way to help Israel win land in the 6 Days War”. We left as soon as the service finished, feeling rather shell-shocked. Their website had seemed innocent enough; a church treads dangerous ground when taking a side on political issues without warning.
Our final night on North Island, for now, would be spent at the Ibis Budget Hotel situated 1km from the airport, but not before an emotional farewell to our plucky camper. The Mitsubishi had served us well; unfazed by the check engine light the team at the depot returned our full deposit at the simple click of a button. Hurray! After a free coffee we then used the shuttle to return to the airport, a couple commenting that we were travelling light; we had in fact already checked in at the hotel and the shuttle saved us a long walk back! After dinner I ended up covering the distance after all, the 6 mile return making for a good long run before an early night – our flight to Christchurch would require a 4am start!