I don't know why I didn't initially think of the idea, but after the owner of the hostel recommended that I rent a car as a way to see the North Island, I jumped at the idea. He had a few contacts in the industry, so he was able to call and talk the price down a little bit to get me a "nice sedan" for 8 days, allowing me to pick it up in Auckland and drop it off at the Southern end of the North Island, in Wellington, after a week or so of criss-crossing my way around the island. Independence provided by a car is an incredibly nice luxury when travelling, allowing free stops for lunch, hikes, photo opportunities, sour worm candy (several of those stops), and it also allow you to get outside the tourist track, which can be viewed as a positive or negative. So, the owner of the hostel called his friend and booked a car with unlimited mileage for about $28 per day. Afterwards, I realized that I didn't really have any idea about the company, type of car, stipulations, etc, but I figured I'd be fine. Well, as it turned out, my trepidation was well-warranted. Despite the assurance of renting a car from a company known as Quality Rental Cars, after being picked up to get the car, I could see that it might be an interesting experience. First, the older German fellow ahead of me tried to get his car, though it turned out to be a pretty bad super-compact car, and he was unhappy with his rate, the insurance and the perceived price that another lady was paying in comparison to him. Incorrectly, he saw the lady's receipt and thought he was comparing the same thing, so he felt he was getting ripped off, though I tried to explain to him on the side that he wasn't comparing the right numbers, but the language barrier and his persistence left him without a real understanding of what I repeatedly tried to point out.
My turn at the desk consisting of one worker, in fact the same worker that was the driver to pick us up, was just as exciting. While the insurance policy was explained, I realized that I would be in quite a bit of trouble if I did get into an accident, and I didn't want to pay the extra premium that still would leave me out some money if an accident did happen. Even so, he filled out all of the paperwork, then I went to go take a look at the car. "It's the green one out there that just pulled up, right?" I said, pointing to the fairly new, four door sedan that just pulled up to the outside of the building, and he agreed. Then, as I reached to open the door and check out the car, he corrected me, and it turned out to be the tiny blue hatchback, right next to it, broken windscreen and all. According to the brochure, this car was lovingly labeled as a backpacker's special, since there are few adulatory terms that could apply to it. With its size, I would have had to pull out the front seat and sit in the back to drive it (a la Hightower from Police Academy), and I mentioned to him that I was promised a four door sedan at that rate. Unfortunately, there was not much to be done at this point, since we are at the offsite rental agency, more or less at his mercy. He said there were no more cars left on the lot (this is a small, shady agency), but then after searching for a while, he came up with one. It didn't look too bad from the outside, but upon closer inspection and pulling the cobwebs away from the passenger side mirror, it had it's share of problems, scratches, etc. All in all, it wasn't too bad, though. It was a dark blue 1994 Toyota, labeled as a Camry, though it certainly didn't have the size of engine that the Camry has in the United States, nor the body style, so it was definitely an import special, also meaning that the radio frequency goes from 76 to 90 FM, meaning that I miss 95% of the stations. On the other hand, I was excited that this car was a manual transmission, so that would be fun, though a bit odd as I fought my instincts and learned to shift with my left hand. The car also had about 130,000 miles on it, though I had confidence on the reliability of a Toyota, so I accepted the car and hit the road, an hour or two later than I had planned.
I drove North to the Waipou forest, an area full of lush greenery, ferns, and massive kauri trees - trees that once were spread over the North Island but have become a bit more scarce due to logging and deforestation. Parts of the road in this park are almost overgrown with ferns jutting out into the road and one lane passes around massive trees that were spared when the roads were created. As I pulled up to the park's campgrounds, I found that I had just missed the early afternoon closing time, but I was able to talk through the window to the ranger closing up shop and get a key for a tiny, spartan cabin just down the road at a quite good price, though I did lie when he asked if I had a sleeping bag and/or gear, but I figured it was harmless. So, I got to the cabin, which was simply a tiny nook in the wall for supplies, a wooden floor and a thin mattress on a small perch against the wall. I was also warned to watch for kiwis (the birds, not the New Zealand people) on the road, since a few had been killed, and they are becoming more and more rare. While there was still an hour or two of daylight, I decided to drive down the road and see a grove of the famous kauri trees - a sort of NZ equivalent to the towering American redwoods, just a 30 or 40 minute walk from the parking lot. I made it to the first set of trees, the Four Sisters, which are four of these massive trees all growing from the same spot with ages of 200, 400, 600 and 800 years old. I also met up with a local tour guide and his two clients who invited me to join his tour, which was a great bit of luck, as I got a chance to hear the legends that go along with these behemoths, as well as noting some of the intricacies of the forest that my solitary speedwalk would have missed. Deeper into the forest, we prepared to come upon Te Matua Ngahere, the Father of the Forest. Our guide greeted the tree with a few phrases in the Maori language, and we turned the corner to see a tree that seemed to create its own light and aura around it. While the rest of the forest was beginning to fall under darkness, this huge tree stood out, visibly brighter than the rest, perhaps because its foliage and root system have prevented other growth from coming in too close. The size of the tree was nothing short of unbelievable...over 100 feet tall, but more impressively, about 50 feet around in circumference. The base of this tree looked like a building, though it is sacred and fragile, so it's forbidden to touch the tree or get any of those cheesy pictures hugging it to show the immensity. The tree has also been determined to be about 4,000 years old. We sat on a bench in the forest for a little while drinking hot chocolate and coffee while staring at this giant, imaging the things that must have passed before it in its enduring time on the planet, then we eventually moved on and parted ways after thanking the guide for letting me join on the interesting tour. When I got back, I decided it was time for sleep and layed down on my towel on the uncovered matress. Soon, I found out why the ranger had asked about the sleeping bag. I initially went to bed in just a pair of shorts, but I woke up freezing just a few hours later. Gradually through the night, I woke up and put on more and more clothes, first a shirt, then pants, then socks, then gloves, then a hat, then my jacket. Despite all of my clothes, I still woke up cold and a bit unrested, but I was happy to see that the showers did have warm water, so it wasn't too bad. Following the great shower, I returned to the trees, which were just as impressive, and I also visited Tane Mahuta, a slightly taller though thinner tree, known as the Lord of the Forest.
Leaving the beautiful and inspiring Waipou Forest, I drove across the peninsula, through windy roads of rolling hills, alongside green pasture land and glimpses of the ocean. I reached my next destination, the Bay of Islands, just in time to drop my bags and run to the pier for a boat tour of the 144 islands that surround the blue-green bay. High up in the North Island, the water and occasional beaches almost have a tropical look with brilliant white sand and green water, though other parts of the rugged, rocky coastline have the sort of Irish cliff look, covered in lush grass. My tour was relatively empty as it took us on a large speedboat/catamaran with approximately 30 others. We first toured some of the closer islands, learning about the owners, envying the caretakers that get to live in and tend to those houses, then we moved out towards one of the main attractions - the Hole in the Rock. This is simply a cave carved into the side of one of the large, rocky islands that has evolved after years of erosion (the number of years of erosion might be up for debate for some of you readers) into a tunnel, just large enough for our boats to pass through. The captain took a couple of minutes to explain some of the stories around the rock, then carefully guided the boat through the opening and out the other side. On the way out and back, we saw many large schools of fish swimming along the surface and hit some massive waves, much to the delight of the squealing Australian kids standing on the bow, delighting in every wave and trough, which I have to admit was quite fun when standing on the bow and feeling the power of the ocean, then the resulting weightlessness as the boat seemed to drop out from underneath you. (Much more fun than the Fijian boat adventure leaving Wayalailai)
Our final part of the boat tour was to fulfill the guarantee of seeing at least one sea mammal on the boat or else you would be granted a free ticket to try again the next day. Our sister ship spotted some of the numerous dolphins in the bay, so we speed alongside, met up with one other dolphin watching boat and were witness to a brilliant display of a group of about 10 or 15 dolphins, swimming around, jumping, feeding, playing and hamming it up for the pictures. Actually, these are truly wild dolphins that just happen to be plentiful in the bay and as curious about humans as we are about them, so you are not allowed to touch them, despite them swimming very close by. Some of the groups usually swim with the dolphins, but they were disappointed to hear that there was a baby dolphin in the water, meaning that they couldn't get in the water with them, since the mother-child bond among the animals is strong enough to evoke some violent, protective actions from the mother if any of the swimmers were deemed to be too close. Pods of about five dolphins each swam back and forth, underneath and around the ships as we cruised along, a few of them doing some acrobatic jumps out of the water, a few just swimming alongside. After twenty minutes of watching the amazing creatures, we concluded our tour and headed back to the bay. Back in town, I had a small dinner and walked around town and the local beach before heading back. On the way to my hostel, I saw a few different stands with ice cream, which seemed quite appealing at the time, but I couldn't justify to myself paying the inflated tourist prices. As I was looking at some postcards at a shop next to the ice cream shop, a miracle seemed to materialize before my eyes. An older man right behind me came back with two ice cream cones, one for him and one for his wife. When he presented them, the wife vehemently denied the cone, saying over and over that she wouldn't eat it and would have asked for one if she wanted it. The husband said he had already bought it, and there was nothing that he could do now. Of course, I heard the whole story, so I continued to look at the same postcard over and over, trying to look like the poor, young man that could use a free ice cream cone when the husband assessed the situation. I played out the scenario again and again in my mind, as I waited for the realization from the husband. I couldn't believe my luck. Then, somehow, the scenario never did materialize. The husband took both of the ice cream cones, continued bickering with his wife, and they both went off down the street, leaving me hungry and disappointed. I had been so close, yet I wasn't going to ask for the cone outright. I just couldn't believe that the perfect situation had arisen and somehow not worked out at the same time. Still a bit hungry, I went back and stayed in a small hostel for the night, which was touted as being very strict about quiet time and rowdiness, meaning that it should make for a quiet night, but apparently a few drunken Brits didn't get the memo, so I, along with two other girls in the dorm room, suffered through some extremely loud, obnoxious, slurred conversations as we tried to bury our heads in our pillows and sleep.
My turn at the desk consisting of one worker, in fact the same worker that was the driver to pick us up, was just as exciting. While the insurance policy was explained, I realized that I would be in quite a bit of trouble if I did get into an accident, and I didn't want to pay the extra premium that still would leave me out some money if an accident did happen. Even so, he filled out all of the paperwork, then I went to go take a look at the car. "It's the green one out there that just pulled up, right?" I said, pointing to the fairly new, four door sedan that just pulled up to the outside of the building, and he agreed. Then, as I reached to open the door and check out the car, he corrected me, and it turned out to be the tiny blue hatchback, right next to it, broken windscreen and all. According to the brochure, this car was lovingly labeled as a backpacker's special, since there are few adulatory terms that could apply to it. With its size, I would have had to pull out the front seat and sit in the back to drive it (a la Hightower from Police Academy), and I mentioned to him that I was promised a four door sedan at that rate. Unfortunately, there was not much to be done at this point, since we are at the offsite rental agency, more or less at his mercy. He said there were no more cars left on the lot (this is a small, shady agency), but then after searching for a while, he came up with one. It didn't look too bad from the outside, but upon closer inspection and pulling the cobwebs away from the passenger side mirror, it had it's share of problems, scratches, etc. All in all, it wasn't too bad, though. It was a dark blue 1994 Toyota, labeled as a Camry, though it certainly didn't have the size of engine that the Camry has in the United States, nor the body style, so it was definitely an import special, also meaning that the radio frequency goes from 76 to 90 FM, meaning that I miss 95% of the stations. On the other hand, I was excited that this car was a manual transmission, so that would be fun, though a bit odd as I fought my instincts and learned to shift with my left hand. The car also had about 130,000 miles on it, though I had confidence on the reliability of a Toyota, so I accepted the car and hit the road, an hour or two later than I had planned.
I drove North to the Waipou forest, an area full of lush greenery, ferns, and massive kauri trees - trees that once were spread over the North Island but have become a bit more scarce due to logging and deforestation. Parts of the road in this park are almost overgrown with ferns jutting out into the road and one lane passes around massive trees that were spared when the roads were created. As I pulled up to the park's campgrounds, I found that I had just missed the early afternoon closing time, but I was able to talk through the window to the ranger closing up shop and get a key for a tiny, spartan cabin just down the road at a quite good price, though I did lie when he asked if I had a sleeping bag and/or gear, but I figured it was harmless. So, I got to the cabin, which was simply a tiny nook in the wall for supplies, a wooden floor and a thin mattress on a small perch against the wall. I was also warned to watch for kiwis (the birds, not the New Zealand people) on the road, since a few had been killed, and they are becoming more and more rare. While there was still an hour or two of daylight, I decided to drive down the road and see a grove of the famous kauri trees - a sort of NZ equivalent to the towering American redwoods, just a 30 or 40 minute walk from the parking lot. I made it to the first set of trees, the Four Sisters, which are four of these massive trees all growing from the same spot with ages of 200, 400, 600 and 800 years old. I also met up with a local tour guide and his two clients who invited me to join his tour, which was a great bit of luck, as I got a chance to hear the legends that go along with these behemoths, as well as noting some of the intricacies of the forest that my solitary speedwalk would have missed. Deeper into the forest, we prepared to come upon Te Matua Ngahere, the Father of the Forest. Our guide greeted the tree with a few phrases in the Maori language, and we turned the corner to see a tree that seemed to create its own light and aura around it. While the rest of the forest was beginning to fall under darkness, this huge tree stood out, visibly brighter than the rest, perhaps because its foliage and root system have prevented other growth from coming in too close. The size of the tree was nothing short of unbelievable...over 100 feet tall, but more impressively, about 50 feet around in circumference. The base of this tree looked like a building, though it is sacred and fragile, so it's forbidden to touch the tree or get any of those cheesy pictures hugging it to show the immensity. The tree has also been determined to be about 4,000 years old. We sat on a bench in the forest for a little while drinking hot chocolate and coffee while staring at this giant, imaging the things that must have passed before it in its enduring time on the planet, then we eventually moved on and parted ways after thanking the guide for letting me join on the interesting tour. When I got back, I decided it was time for sleep and layed down on my towel on the uncovered matress. Soon, I found out why the ranger had asked about the sleeping bag. I initially went to bed in just a pair of shorts, but I woke up freezing just a few hours later. Gradually through the night, I woke up and put on more and more clothes, first a shirt, then pants, then socks, then gloves, then a hat, then my jacket. Despite all of my clothes, I still woke up cold and a bit unrested, but I was happy to see that the showers did have warm water, so it wasn't too bad. Following the great shower, I returned to the trees, which were just as impressive, and I also visited Tane Mahuta, a slightly taller though thinner tree, known as the Lord of the Forest.
Leaving the beautiful and inspiring Waipou Forest, I drove across the peninsula, through windy roads of rolling hills, alongside green pasture land and glimpses of the ocean. I reached my next destination, the Bay of Islands, just in time to drop my bags and run to the pier for a boat tour of the 144 islands that surround the blue-green bay. High up in the North Island, the water and occasional beaches almost have a tropical look with brilliant white sand and green water, though other parts of the rugged, rocky coastline have the sort of Irish cliff look, covered in lush grass. My tour was relatively empty as it took us on a large speedboat/catamaran with approximately 30 others. We first toured some of the closer islands, learning about the owners, envying the caretakers that get to live in and tend to those houses, then we moved out towards one of the main attractions - the Hole in the Rock. This is simply a cave carved into the side of one of the large, rocky islands that has evolved after years of erosion (the number of years of erosion might be up for debate for some of you readers) into a tunnel, just large enough for our boats to pass through. The captain took a couple of minutes to explain some of the stories around the rock, then carefully guided the boat through the opening and out the other side. On the way out and back, we saw many large schools of fish swimming along the surface and hit some massive waves, much to the delight of the squealing Australian kids standing on the bow, delighting in every wave and trough, which I have to admit was quite fun when standing on the bow and feeling the power of the ocean, then the resulting weightlessness as the boat seemed to drop out from underneath you. (Much more fun than the Fijian boat adventure leaving Wayalailai)
Our final part of the boat tour was to fulfill the guarantee of seeing at least one sea mammal on the boat or else you would be granted a free ticket to try again the next day. Our sister ship spotted some of the numerous dolphins in the bay, so we speed alongside, met up with one other dolphin watching boat and were witness to a brilliant display of a group of about 10 or 15 dolphins, swimming around, jumping, feeding, playing and hamming it up for the pictures. Actually, these are truly wild dolphins that just happen to be plentiful in the bay and as curious about humans as we are about them, so you are not allowed to touch them, despite them swimming very close by. Some of the groups usually swim with the dolphins, but they were disappointed to hear that there was a baby dolphin in the water, meaning that they couldn't get in the water with them, since the mother-child bond among the animals is strong enough to evoke some violent, protective actions from the mother if any of the swimmers were deemed to be too close. Pods of about five dolphins each swam back and forth, underneath and around the ships as we cruised along, a few of them doing some acrobatic jumps out of the water, a few just swimming alongside. After twenty minutes of watching the amazing creatures, we concluded our tour and headed back to the bay. Back in town, I had a small dinner and walked around town and the local beach before heading back. On the way to my hostel, I saw a few different stands with ice cream, which seemed quite appealing at the time, but I couldn't justify to myself paying the inflated tourist prices. As I was looking at some postcards at a shop next to the ice cream shop, a miracle seemed to materialize before my eyes. An older man right behind me came back with two ice cream cones, one for him and one for his wife. When he presented them, the wife vehemently denied the cone, saying over and over that she wouldn't eat it and would have asked for one if she wanted it. The husband said he had already bought it, and there was nothing that he could do now. Of course, I heard the whole story, so I continued to look at the same postcard over and over, trying to look like the poor, young man that could use a free ice cream cone when the husband assessed the situation. I played out the scenario again and again in my mind, as I waited for the realization from the husband. I couldn't believe my luck. Then, somehow, the scenario never did materialize. The husband took both of the ice cream cones, continued bickering with his wife, and they both went off down the street, leaving me hungry and disappointed. I had been so close, yet I wasn't going to ask for the cone outright. I just couldn't believe that the perfect situation had arisen and somehow not worked out at the same time. Still a bit hungry, I went back and stayed in a small hostel for the night, which was touted as being very strict about quiet time and rowdiness, meaning that it should make for a quiet night, but apparently a few drunken Brits didn't get the memo, so I, along with two other girls in the dorm room, suffered through some extremely loud, obnoxious, slurred conversations as we tried to bury our heads in our pillows and sleep.
(The road through Waipou Forest...green...I told you.)
(Along the trail to the kauri trees - pronounced a bit like curry...maybe courry...depends on your accent...native New Zealander is best)
(Te Matua Ngahere shining like a beacon in the forest)
(Showing off because the fern next to me matches the fern on my shirt and is New Zealand's national symbol)
(The tiny cabin at the campsite and my car, with the key in the door handle. Each of those cabins is actually split into two.)
(The Hole in the Rock - and the rock next to it)
(The rocky coast and a tiny lighthouse on the hill at the edge of the mainland in the Bay of Islands)
(One of the alluring beaches at one of the many islands in the Bay of them)
(Quick trigger fingers and a propensity for taking many, many pictures thanks to digital cameras helped capture this dolphin - capture in my picture, not in my fishing net...I don't even eat tuna. Except for in the Cook Islands)
(A typical view of the countryside along the small roads of the North Island, usually even a bit more hilly)
(The sunset in Paihia, the entranceway to the Bay of Islands)
1 comments:
Great entry, great pictures. The travel looks like it's treating you well! =)
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