Back to the North Island

Our next mission was to take a little saloon car for Europcar up to Picton, from where the ferry goes to the North Island. With 24 hours allowed it was going to be a direct drive back up the main highway which we had already covered with Hugh and which parallels the train track we had taken down some 5 weeks ago.

 

However, picking up the car at 9am we took the opportunity of stopping just north of Kaikoura to see the waterfall where the young seals were supposed to congregate. Although the weather was much better and the stream was navigable, it seemed the seals had outgrown it and were now playing out at sea. Never mind.

 

Apart from a picnic lunch and a coffee stop it was straight on to Picton arriving just in time find our campsite. We had a standard cabin (kitchen but no bath or toilets, musical or otherwise) which was quite comfy enough.

 

In the morning we handed back the car to the harbour office and then spent the morning in Picton, waking in the park, having a café breakfast in the sun, re-visiting the musical loos and getting our lunch from a Dutch bakery (a treat, NZ bread can be a bit dull with the honourable exception of Fresh Choice supermarkets).

 

Being a lovely sunny day the ferry trip weaving its way of the Sound was very scenic and the crossing of the straits very smooth. This time we could actually see Wellington harbour as we sailed in and Peter noted a couple of coves and inlets that looked worth exploring by kayak.

 

We checked in again at Downtown Backpackers and still had time to walk along the waterfront which was just around the corner. Having located the Te Papa museum and Fergs kayak hire depot, we then visited the biggest second hand bookshop we have ever seen with very quirky but helpful section labels along the lines of  “Over-romanticised coffee table books on New Zealand” or “self-serving political autobiographies” (definitely not Dewey system). We had collected about 4 books each when we realised we would have to carry them so agreed to put them back on the shelves. We then returned for another very cheap but quite edible supper at the Backpackers. Definitely a recommendation if you are ever in Wellington.

 

We didn’t have to pick up our next car until 4pm on the Wednesday so that gave us a day and a half to enjoy. Margot went off to meet a friend who ran a bookshop in an outlying suburb  while Peter headed off to rent a kayak. You launch from Queen’s Wharf which is now mainly public spaces, restaurants and event venues – all on piles and reclaimed land - culminating in Te Papa, the very modern national museum. Beyond that is a marina  and a beach and from there a longish crossing across another bay brings you to a lovely coastline of rock pools and little beaches to explore. With increasing winds forecast for the afternoon Peter had to turn back after a couple of hours but made good time back and there was still time left on the clock to explore the inlets and quays along the waterfront before handing the boat back.

Not planning to meet until later in the afternoon, Margot spent the afternoon exploring the civic quarter and bookshops (conveniently forgetting our resolution of the night before), while Peter wandered off to the beach and had a swim and sat in the sun and read his (one and only) book. Every major city should have a beach within a few minutes walk of the main business district.

 

Eventually we met and found a bar in the setting sun for a couple of beers, then back along the Quay to Waggamamas which was exactly the same as the one in Manchester but nice nevertheless andcloser to the beach. At least we have managed to avoid visiting a Starbucks or a Macdonalds so far.

 

Next morning, having packed and stored our baggage we went back along the quay once again to Te Papa and spent the morning investigating the various galleries. After lunch in the museum café we headed back to the backpackers through the shopping and civic quarters. With Margot guarding the baggage Peter set off on foot for the ferry terminal to pick up the car. The road we had come in on the ferry shuttle was clearly not designed for pedestrians and after 2 kilometres 

Peter was beginning to wonder if he had lost his way. The sight of a ferry through the wharehouses would have been a reassurance but it seemed all three ferries were still out on the ocean so it was a great relief when  sign appeared indicating the terminal was just  across that dual carriageway and over the railway line. No going back now and pleased to nip into the building as 4pm struck (figuratively speaking, of course). Just time to drive back and pick up Margot and the bags and off we sped north, just ahead of the rush hour.

 

Our plan was to drive as far as was comfortable but in any case stopping before we got to the National Park where due to the cloud base being barely above the roof of the train we had failed to see the volcanic Mount Ruapehu from the train down. We found a motel in good time, sandwiched in a valley between the railway track and highway. Very comfortable but a bit noisy.

 

The next day was beautifully sunny and before long we had great views of  the mountains,  distracted only by being followed by four police cars, or maybe one police car four times. Turned out not to be us but to be some kind of regional donut convention  as we eventually came across all of them parked outside a café.

 

We had lunch at the Friends Café at Lake Taupo which is a huge lake specially loved by retired couples so we fitted right in. We were served by an ageing ‘loveable’ Cockney who sounded like he had just stepped off the set of East-enders and was clearly a big attraction. The thrill of being addressed as ‘ you young folk’ wore off when we heard him saying the same thing to every 90-plus year old who was wheeled in.

The run-off from the lake goes through a narrow canyon and a waterfall which apparently and then into a lake which is the head of a hydroelectric scheme. This reduces the flow downstream to a trickle so, as a sop to us tourists, they open up the weir every hour on the hour so you can watch the river rise to its full torrent and then shrivel up again. A bit sad maybe but very impressive while it lasts.

 

A bit further on and you begin to get into the geo-thermal activity around Rotorua, which was our next stop – for two nights as the Europcar clerk had very kindly thrown in an extra day’s hire for free.