New Zealand - home at last.
What an amazing feeling arriving in New Zealand after such a long absence eight years away and only 3 trips back between us. We had been on the road for 18 months since leaving England and visited 22 countries but our trip wasnt finished it couldnt be finished without a lap of the country, catching up with relatives, old friends and favorite spots.
We were welcomed home by a rousing welcoming party of close family at Auckland airport. It felt amazing to be finally back and to start catching up with family and friends.
We still had a couple of weeks to wait until the bike arrived from Aus so we did what half of New Zealand appeared to be doing over the summer vacation and spent some quality time relaxing at the beach.
click here for another lovely beach
The bikes entry to NZ, being its final destination, meant we had to import it rather than use the Carnet. Because its old - 14 years old - there were no import duties to pay and because wed cleaned it so well MAF let us go without any hassles. Getting it registered in New Zealand was another matter though we seemed to have encountered a whole new level of beurocracy. We were also told we would have to wait another couple of weeks for a vehicle check as the motorcycle tester was on holiday! Bollocks, I thought we had enough paperwork to confuse any copper that might stop us so off we went.
First off we traded in the big city for the bucolic beauty of the Coromandel. Trips to the beach, flaming red Pohutokawa trees, card games and coffees, green lipped mussels and wine with old friends - nice and relaxing.
click here to see Opito Bay, Coromandel
We reluctantly departed after two good but too short nights, reveling in the sinuous roads transporting us through native bush and past idyllic beaches down to Tauranga and more old mates. It was not all smiles though we picked up a nail in the rear tyre and I found out that the Australian version of Slime I was running in my tyre was not up to the job. Bugger.
Down a winding, gravel back road to smoking, bubbling sulphurous Rotorua with its huge geysers and boiling mud pools. We visited the buried Maori village of Te Wairoa, obliterated by hot ashes and dust in the 1886 eruption of Mount Tarawera which killed 153 people. We were surrounded by coloured lakes and misty hills covered with green - Ponga, Rimu and other native trees. South past Lake Taupo and the impressive Huka Falls then on to Napier, New Zealands beautiful art deco city by the sea.
Click here to see Napier art deco
Fish and chips, feijoa gelato and lamb burgers at a weekly farmers market, sunny days, art deco viewing and a long stony beach. It was here that we finally managed to catch up with Patrick and Belinda Peck (/sites/default/files/hu6-images/tstories/peck) another overlanding couple from Cairns who we missed meeting in Bangkok but who weve been emailing since. It was great to hear their stories and share a bottle or two of wine.
Inland through the honey coloured sun parched hills of the Manawatu, slow paced Kiwi country towns with tractors and utes parked in the one street towns. South through the Wairarapa and over the Rimutaka mountain range, a wonderfully hilly, narrow winding road that unfortunately made Lisa feel sick and nervous but which I love.
Into Wellington around 7.30pm and home to my parents house where a welcoming party had been patiently waiting, unbeknown to us, since mid afternoon. Wed taken our time and had stopped here and there on the way, visiting a bird sanctuary and just dawdling. Pokarekareana, a traditional Maori song, sung to guitar on the doorstep, bubbly and fish and chips what better welcome home to Wellington.
click here to see the first time I have ever got my mum onto the bike
The next few days were spent catching up with old friends and family and checking out what was happening in the compact, fun filled capital. But all too soon it was time for us to push on again.
We boarded the 7.30am Lynx catamaran for the two and a half hour crossing to the South Island. There were lots of other bikes on board, and most like us packed up for some serious touring but we had the only foreign license plate and the biggest load. The sky was clear through the beautiful Marlborough Sounds, shadows playing on the bush clad hills and sunlight highlighting the mussel farms that dot the deep waters.
The ferry docked in Picton, port, fishing harbour, retirement town and tourist stopover. Nothing for us there, Lisa was more interested in tasting some Marlborough wines, so we checked out 4 or 5 vineyards in the area. I was well and truly tired of being the sober driver while Lisa drinks so I soon lost interest in the concept but Lisa reckons what she tried was delicious and two or three days would have done it more justice.
click here to see seal colony along the Kaikoura coast
We headed south through parched farm land, past long stretches of deserted beaches and down towards the town of Kaikoura for the night. Kai means food in Maori and Koura means crayfish and we found enough evidence from roadside stalls that these tasty sea creatures are still found here in abundance. We stopped to watch seals lazing in the sun, beautifully camouflaged amongst the rocks and thick seaweed.
Kaikoura, originally a busy whaling station became a quiet fishing town but today it is again a thriving spot with tourists taking advantage of tours whale watching and swimming with dolphins or seals but we were content to just walk around the rocks looking for the seal colonies that come ashore around the town. We found a quiet campsite for the night bordering a magnificent stretch of long white sandy beach and watched the sky turn from pink to greys and purples against the sea and hills.
The following day we rode inland and got caught in a storm so we had to put our wet weather gear on and continue in the rain and cold - not so much fun and not what we are used to anymore either. After so long traveling in the tropics outside of rainy seasons we have become accustomed to sun and heat not rain and cold. Wed been heading to Hamner Springs to relax in the natural hot pools and enjoy the mountains but the sky was thick with dark clouds in that region so instead we turned south and eventually rode into the sunshine. Another few stops for Lisa to do some more wine tasting at Waipara, then on to Rangiora where we stopped with family friends for a night on their deer farm.
A short trip down through the flat, warm, dry Canterbury plains and over the wide Waimakarere River bought us into Christchurch, the garden city, for another day visiting friends and family. No time to dawdle though, an offer of some work back in Auckland had come through so we had to hasten our trip.
South to a cousins farm in Cave via a detour to look at some rock drawings. Pretty basic stuff, it did not any way resemble any Maori art we have previously seen and no information on its origins. Intriguing.
click here to see the 1st bike I ever rode down on the farm
The first time I rode a bike was on this farm 26 years ago and it was still there propped up in a farm shed. Somehow it didnt look quite as impressive as it had to a lad of fourteen.
We continued heading inland, south west through the Mackenzie Basin, named after a sheep rustler that herded his stolen sheep over the mountain passes and up into the high country where he could elude the law. Stunning vistas through here azure and electric blue lakes hemmed in by rugged, snow-capped mountain ranges.
click here to see us at Mt Cook
We rode up to Mt Aorangi the cloud piercer otherwise known as Mt Cook, the highest mountain in New Zealand. A couple of hours taking in the views then on to Wanaka. Ideally we should have spent longer at both spots hiking and savouring the natural splendour but we had to push on.
The next morning we rode out to Fiordland and rode what is for me one of the most beautiful roads in New Zealand - the route from Te Anau into Milford Sound. This part of the world has some awesome scenery.
click here to get a taste of the scenery
Its also one of the wettest places in NZ (and NZ gets a lot of rain anyway). A winding road amongst the dark green forests and mountainsides, views of hanging glaciers and snow capped peaks abound, a long dark tunnel through the bowels of a mountain, the final dramatic drop into the fiord and almost everywhere long, skinny white streaks of water falling down through the green.
want to see the beautiful Eglington Valley? click here
We were fortunate to have no rain during the trip in and although we arrived late we managed to pitch a tent in the little campground just before the sun was setting. The next morning we were up early for a boat trip out into the fiord with its high cliffs, water streaming down them everywhere. Back out that afternoon camping alone at a Department of Conservation campground. Just us and the stars, we lit a fire, made sandwiches and had an early night, long used to skipping showers and cups of tea.
click here to see the road to Paradise
A couple of days staying with Lisa cousin in Queenstown and soaking up the incredible landscapes around Lake Wakatipu, then over to the West Coast via the Haast Pass, another of my favorite roads with bends and bush views for the entirety. The West Coast bought us cold and rain and a stop at Haast, not for sightseeing but for another puncture repair the previous repair had not held. We left there late, and rode up to Fox Glacier for the night feeling pretty low, it was almost dark and we were pushing along a flat straight road in the cold gloom when red and blue flashing lights brought us to a halt.
A cop waiting for someone rushing to get home for the night, hardly another car in sight for miles but still we got pulled. I did some fast talking about why we were traveling on the English license plate, blatant lies about how we were shipping out to South America soon and how the carnet had been incorrectly stamped with permanently imported into NZ. Somehow we were lucky to escape with a warning on that one; however the cop still gave me a speeding ticket, the first one of our entire trip.
We arrived into Fox Glacier feeling even lower, all the B&Bs were full, it was too wet and cold to camp and we had to splash out and pay $NZ70 for a hotel room, probably more than wed spent on the whole trip. Under these circumstances we were pretty disappointed to find it was tiny and cold and didnt even have its own bathroom, just communal facilities and even these had pay showers.
We spent the next day playing tourist around Fox and Franz Joseph Glaciers then headed further up the coast and found a DoC campsite in a tranquil setting which we shared with the resident Wekas.
click here to see curious Weka
Another day riding sinuous roads through beautiful forests, patches of wild, sparsely populated farmland and along a rugged, exposed coastline. Perfect, apart from the inclement weather.
One last day exploring the top of the South Island - a foray over Takaka Hill: 55kms of grin-inducing twisties that had Lisa suffering motion sickness, a visit to the golden sands of Kaiteriteri beach and a nosey around the arty city of Nelson then yet another scenic ride over to Picton and the ferry back to Wellington.
Our trip was really drawing to a close now and our priorities were changing. We were being drawn back into a normal life. The next few days were not spent exploring and having adventures but rather picking up the threads of our life: sorting out housing, getting our belongings out of storage and shipping all up to Auckland and scariest of all setting up some work that was drawing us back to Auckland faster than expected.
The rest of the trip was a blur straight up the main highway, a few last days visiting family and friends and then it was all over.
.........which brings us to the present. 7 months on from arriving back in Auckland and our journey, the best part of the last 2 years, all seems like a distant, fading memory. Lisa and I have both picked up the ragged threads of our respective careers. We have settled down in suburbia and my trusty TDM850 (now properly registered and well serviced) has been relegated to commuting duties.
click here to see Auckland city
But all it takes is a large waft of diesel fumes and a blast of horn and Im transported back to India or the chaos of west Java with a silly grin playing on my face....