Arrival Day
When we first saw Bertha (our hire car) we were a little taken aback. Given that she cost roughly half of what we were quoted everywhere else - and that was with all singing and dancing insurance, I was expecting something considerably smaller, which would require precision packing to fit everything in. But Bertha has a big booty and our 2 oversize suitcases and hand luggage went in easily with room to spare (just in case we feel compelled to make other purchases).
Doing the bodywork check with the hire car guy was hilarious. Normally you examine the car closely together and note down the tiniest little scratch. Well Bertha has so many scratches and dents, the bloke just put "loads of body work damage" on the form and told us not to stress if we add to her collection. He then said "Anything major will be covered on the excess free insurance anyway (unless you're drunk), so have a good time and don't worry about the car".
She's an automatic, which we later discovered is a bonus, because New Zealand is very very very hilly. She struggles a bit uphill, especially with a full load, but we make allowances, because for a hire car, she's getting on a bit.
Lottie gets car sick on bendy roads, has no sense of direction and likes driving. I can't drive on roads with drops, hate driving - especially in the dark, but am great with maps. So with that in mind we decided Lottie would get us through Auckland and up to our first overnight stay and then we would take it from there.
Auckland was busy - nothing like UK busy, but there was enough traffic to make lane changing a bit tricky, especially when you don't really know where you are going. But Lottie is a lovely confident capable driver and coped with it all far better than I would have.
What struck us immediately was how pretty everything is - even in the suburbs of a major city. Every house is different, with it's own sense of style and even the shops have a bit of character.
As we drove over the bridge out of Auckland the bay opened up in front of us and the beautiful rolling hills that are just everywhere, came into view.
The landscape is so Green it almost doesn't look real and everywhere you look there are picture postcard views. Absolutely gorgeous!
My decision to book our first B&B reasonably close to the airport was a good one, because even though we were ridiculously excited, we were also absolutely knackered and feeling a little bit spaced out. So despite all the oooing and ahhhhing during the journey, arriving at Mahurangi West Wing less than hour after leaving Auckland was very welcome.
Rachel the owner, showed us to our accommodation and as we walked through the door and took in our surroundings we were totally gobsmacked. I'd seen pictures on the internet of course, but I wasn't prepared for the space, the facilities and the incredible view.
My previous experience of Bed and Breakfast establishments involved lots of chintz, tacky ornaments, cheap bedding that gives you little electric shocks, shared bathrooms and heart attack inducing breakfasts. OK, so that was a long time ago and I've watched Four in a Bed on the tv, so I know things have moved on since then, but it was clear that Rachel has her own, very definite ideas of what a B&B experience should be like.
First of all, we had the whole wing to ourselves, consisting of........
A bedroom containing a bed that could easily sleep 5 with crisp White bedding that must have required taking out a second mortgage, lovely throws that Lottie wanted to wear as pashminas and 2 of the fluffiest bathrobes I have ever seen.
A bathroom with a walk in (take the skin off your back cos it's so powerful) shower, a gorgeous range of organic cosmetics, including dinky little home made soaps that smelled edible and enough huge fluffy towels to keep a football team warm and dry.
A separate loo ( always a bonus when suffering from aeroplane food bloat)
A lovely lounge with a large sofa bed and an amazing, beautiful, fantastic, breathtaking view.
A kitchenette that Lottie said was bigger and better equipped than her flat and had a small fridge, a proper coffee-maker (with helpfully provided instructions), one of those gadgets that boils your eggs and makes toast at the same time and something that was disguised as a microwave but could in fact perform pretty much any culinary function you desire.
Our own terrace with table and chairs where we could sit transfixed by the scenery.
Alpacas and Chickens at the bottom of the garden.
The Fridge was stocked with local sparkling grape juice, local sparkling wine, milk, butter, home made jams, rhubarb and plums from the garden and yoghurt.
On the counter were eggs from her chooks (chickens for those who don’t speak New Zealand), cereal bars, a range of muesli and oat based cereals, fresh fruit, bread, fresh coffee and a range of teas.
Breakfast sorted - or so we thought!
Maharanghi West Wing is in the middle of nowhere, so we knew we were going to have to brace ourselves and get back into Bertha to go find some dinner. Tempting as it was, just to put on our pyjamas and dive into all the yummy food provided, we wanted to leave ourselves something for breakfast, (if only we had known!) so we asked Rachel for recommendations. New Zealand is very vegetarian friendly and we both eat fish, so she gave us plenty of options. Unfortunately, most of them were a little further afield and so we opted for the closest one, which she described as ok - quite basic, but their burgers are good.
Puhoi is tiny and as we drove in (which took all of 3 seconds,) Lottie said she thought all the houses looked like they were made by Playmobile.
The Puhoi Pub and Stables looked like an old colonial building and judging by the number of tables and benches outside is clearly very popular in the summer. However, this was a chilly evening in late spring, so the only other customers were a bunch of locals with plenty of “character”. It wasn’t exactly like the pub in “American werewolf in London”, because they all smiled - but boy did they stare!!
Inside there is not a single scrap of wall or ceiling that isn’t covered in memorabilia, farm implements, foreign money and signs, so plenty to look at.
We were directed to a serving hatch where we were greeted by a friendly bloke in an apron (presumably the chef) who gave us a menu. The menu was small, but certainly not boring and we opted for salt and pepper squid with chips - which is like the NZ version of scampi and chips in a basket.
After the crap we were served on the flight, I can’t tell you how fantastic it was to eat some normal food (We’ve only been here a couple of days and already consider squid and chips normal - how cool is that?). Washed down with some vino for me and a soft drink for Lottie (she was driving) it was delicious. We stayed for a bit, got chatted up by one of the locals with long Grey hair and no teeth, then headed back to our lovely B&B.
As we came in, Rachel popped her head round the door to ask us what time we wanted breakfast.
Sorry - what? We both looked at her blankly - surely the mountain of food already provided was breakfast. Apparently not! So we said 9am would be great.
It was only nine o'clock, but we could hardly keep our eyes open, so decided to have a cup of tea and hit the sack. I got into bed, but according to Lottie, was asleep before the kettle boiled, she fell asleep with her Kindle in her hand.
Day 1
After our very early night we were both up by 6am to watch the sunrise. We had a little walk through the gate at the end of the garden to say hello to the chooks and I went in search of the boys (The Alpacas).
Their grazing land is on a very very steep hill, so although I could see them in the distance and get a couple of photos, I didn't feel like risking slipping on the wet grass, rolling down the hill and breaking something important like a leg or an arm or my camera.
As we had a few hours to kill before our additional breakfast, I decided to start this blog and Lottie caught up with her stuff on Facebook.
Initially I had intended to keep the blog very short and factual, but as Lottie pointed out - a list of we did this and then we did that, would be boring to read and boring to write. Once I started, I found I really enjoyed writing and despite worrying incessantly whether anyone would find it dull and uninteresting, comforted myself with the fact, that it would be a nice record of our travels together. (If you've made it this far - thank you for sticking with it)
A word about the weather. It's extremely changeable. Just in the few hours between getting up and leaving for our snorkel trip, it was sunny, rainy, sunny again, windy, rainy, cloudy and sunny once more. This, we discovered, seems to be the norm, so deciding what to wear is a bit of a challenge and any sort of outing requires a enough luggage for a 3 day hike, including:-
Raincoats, umbrella, warm jackets, sun cream, sun glasses, wind protection, fan, cameras, spare batteries, Go Pro accessories.
Breakfast arrived at 9 as promised. So bearing in mind the bread, eggs, yoghurt, cereal bars, muesli etc etc we already had, we were now presented with 4 enormous waffles, accompanied by a choice of berry fruit compote, soured cream and maple syrup, plus.... a huge Banana smoothie each!!!
At that moment we were in a "rainy phase", so we couldn't eat outside, but could still enjoy the lovely view while we stuffed our faces silly.
As we were just cramming in the last morsels of our gorgeous breakfast, Lottie suddenly squealed - look look look. Two delightful furry faces, were right by our terrace watching us through the window. The boys had come to check us out. We grabbed our cameras and ran outside (fortunately it had stopped raining) and it was just lovely to be up close and personal with these beautiful creatures.
Rachel appeared and asked if we wanted to feed them, at which point I turned into a five year old, jumping up and down with my hand in the air shouting I do, I do, I do. Lottie offered to take pictures as I held out their food. The Alpacas were a bit hesitant (hardly surprising after my enthusiastic display), but eventually one of them fed from my hand. Rachel warned that they weren't big on cuddles ( I know that feeling well) so I maintained a respectful distance, but those eyes are so expressive, your heart melts.
For me, that was one of those experiences you treasure forever and it truly made my day. Could anything else match that? Well actually it could........
Those of you who know me well, understand that I can be a bit anal when it comes to planning a trip. I could never be described as a "lets wing it" sort of person, so our first day activity was booked months ago.
I chose Saltwater Eco, because they offered small group or private snorkelling tours, care passionately about the environment and were super helpful and friendly when answering my emails.
We had arranged to meet Lydia (our guide) at Goat Island Marine Park at 11am for our tour. She gave us a bit of background about the area and the marine environment, talked us through some of the marine life we were likely to see and showed us some helpful pictures. Her enthusiasm was infectious and we were itching to get into the water. (Of course had we realised just how bloody freezing the water was, we may have been inclined to spend a little longer sitting in the sunshine). Next on the agenda were the dreaded wetsuits. Now from bitter past experience, I know that putting a wet suit on over bare skin ranges from tricky to impossible (depending on how much you have lied about your size), so we were both prepared with long sleeved swim tops and cycle shorts/leggings.
Even so - it still involves a fair amount of hopping about and trying to stuff your flabby bits into the thing as you squeeze it up your body. Now if you happen to be a tiny little person with a single figure dress size, wetsuits can look gorgeous, however if, like me, you are short and dumpy, they just look hideous. They must be the most unforgiving garment on the planet and every single lump, bump and flaw is on full display, for the world to see
Fortunately, the rest of the world had more sense than to be snorkelling in New Zealand in late Spring and the huge car parks with overflow areas for the crowds, were completely empty. There was a clue there - but we were too excited to spot it.
Anyway, wet suits on and cameras in hand, we headed down to the beach. Lydia gave us a short safety briefing and it was time to put on our fins, snorkels and masks.
Fins are supposed to be a tight fit - no-one wants to kick hard against the current only to see your fin heading out to sea on it's own little adventure or even worse - sinking slowly to the bottom.
So trying to pull them on, over gritty sandy feet, while wearing something that restricts the all important movement of arms and legs, standing on one leg in shallow water with waves determined to knock you over - isn't easy. The relief of getting one on, is quickly dashed by the reality that you still have another to do - and this one's going to be even harder because hopping about to balance, is impossible with a fin on your foot and you've already started to lose all feeling in your hands because the water is so cold.
Lydia, who was waiting patiently waist deep in water called out helpful hints - "why don't you sit down", - Great idea, but would I ever be able to get up again. (I find that hard, even when I'm not encased in rubber.). "Help each other", - clearly the sensible thing to do and feeling a bit silly that we hadn't thought of that ourselves, we were finally ready. Masks and snorkels in place we walked slowly into the water - backwards.
Swimming off the UK coast is cold, snorkelling in the Galapagos was cold, my pool in winter is cold but they all seem like a warm bath compared to this. There's that horrible moment when the water enters your wet suit before it adjusts to your body temperature, when you wonder if it's possible to get hypothermia in 5 seconds. We were now standing up to our necks and the water inside my wet suit, was clearly still in training and didn't realise it was supposed to warm up to my temperature. It got there eventually, but definitely needs to learn to do it quicker. Feeling a bit more comfortable and eager to get moving, I adjusted my mask and snorkel ready for the off.
Normally, when I put my face in the water, I'm overwhelmed by the sight of the amazing underwater world, I feel relaxed, breathe easily and lose myself in the serenity and peacefulness. On this occasion, as my face got the full impact of the freezing water, every muscle contracted. Forget Botox, forget facelifts - just go snorkelling in icy water. Breathing was also tricky, so serenity and peacefulness weren't really on the agenda at that particular moment. My solution to this little problem was to swim like the clappers to try to warm up a bit. This was embarrassing, as I had explained to Lydia that I prefer to take things nice and slow and get frustrated by people in the group who power through the water - missing all the good stuff along the way. But I was seriously freezing and didn't want to abandon the session, so felt that kick starting my circulation, was my only option. Once we were all back together and Lottie had told me off for going too fast, we started our amazing snorkel. The underwater landscape here is quite different to tropical waters. No coral, but plenty of large craggy rocks, and kelp beds. We started spotting fish straight away and some of them were big with a capital B. Lydia seemed to have a sixth sense about where we needed to be to see the best stuff and popped up frequently to tell us what we were seeing. We were lucky enough to see some species that are quite rare and all three of us spotted things that caused a ripple of excitement in our little group.
The hour passed really quickly, but as we had to swim against the current to get back to shore, I realised how tiring it had been and was perfectly happy to call it a day at that point.
Once back on dry land, Lydia provided us with some lovely herbal tea and home made snacks. She had also brought spare wet suits for us (we had hired the equipment for the whole day) because no-one wants to struggle into a cold, wet, wetsuit!
Once she had left us, we sat for a while in the sunshine, working up the courage to get back into the very very very cold water. Lottie and I both kept asking each other if we really wanted to do this and I don't think either of us wanted to admit defeat. My delaying tactic, was the usual - "just one more fag", until Lottie said "If we are going to do this - we need to do it now". She was right of course, the sea wasn't going to get any warmer so we decided to go for it.
Second time around - it wasn't so bad - presumably because we knew what to expect. We still got the instant face lift and it still took my breathe away, but knowing that it would get better helped enormously.
On the first swim, Lottie had been wearing the Go Pro on her chest, but had found it tricky to work out when it was on or off, because she couldn't see the screen. So this time she held it and said it was much easier to control. Sadly, her snorkel stopped working properly and when she took a breath, got a mouthful of water. This was the moment when I said "please don't drown - that would be a real shame" and Lottie decide to create the #thingsmummasnorkssays hashtag.
Without a fully functioning snorkel, most people would have abandoned the session, but not my brave and beautiful daughter. So when I said "shall we go in", she replied "Nah, I'm ok holding my breathe". By the end of it, she had turned into quite the accomplished freediver.
So what did we see that was different from the morning session?
Rays - lot's of them and that made surviving the cold and the non functioning snorkel totally worth it.
Lottie spotted the first one and yelled out to me. We followed it for a bit, keeping a nice respectful distance and it was just beautiful. They are so graceful and completely unlike anything else in the sea. As that one headed out into the wild Blue yonder, Lottie found another one and we watched and filmed that one for a bit. I saw one hiding under some kelp ( just his tail was sticking out) and waited patiently as he emerged and swam by us really close. All in all we saw about 5 or 6 of them, which is incredible as it's considered amazing if you spot just one.
After our Ray encounter, we were happy to call it a day and started to head in. Unfortunately, we were swimming against the current, so at times it felt like we weren't getting anywhere, but we got there eventually and crawled up to the water's edge where we collapsed in a heap. Every time we tried to get up, a wave would come and knock us down or spin us round and for some reason, we found this hilarious. It started as giggles but the more we laughed, the funnier the whole situation seemed. In the end we were literally crying with laughter, rolling around in the waves like 2 beached whales. The handful of people that had come to admire the view of Goat Island, must have thought we were completely crazy - not for the first time and probably not the last.
They do have showers at Goat Island - cold ones! So we decided to forgo those and just dried off and got dressed.
Now it was decision time. We had to drop the gear off at Saltwater Eco on the way back, but should we drive the 40 mins back to our B&B, have a nice hot shower and make ourselves look presentable to go out for dinner. Or go for something to eat on our way back - even though we both looked a bit rough, with our Blue lips, salt encrusted hair and faces and wearing "we're going snorkelling" jeans and teeshirts.
We went for the latter, based on the fact that we were both exhausted and knew that once we got back to Mahuranghi, we probably wouldn't want to go out again. There was also the added bonus that no one knew us and we would, most likely, never meet the people in the restaurant again - so who cares what we look like.
The Wharf Street Bistro in Warkworth had been recommended by both Rachel and Lydia and working on the assumption that a Bistro wouldn't be too posh, so our scruffy attire, wild hair and make-up free (but nicely taut) faces wouldn't look out of place, we pulled up outside.
Oooooops! It was really smart - not very Bistro like at all and the 2 ladies sitting outside enjoying their coffee, were the sort of perfectly groomed women that make you feel like a scruff pot even when you are dolled up to the nines.
Still, we had come this far and besides, we'd been swimming with Rays, which makes you feel powerful, important and just a wee bit superior.
We went in and asked if we were too early to eat and the nice young waitress assured us that would be no problem. She didn't seem at all put off by our appearance and we saw no sign of her surreptitiously calling the police to remove the 2 mad women that had just walked into her restaurant - bonus!
I needed to buy some cigarettes as NZ only allows you to bring in 50 - no not 50 packets - 50 actual cigarettes. I would normally go through that many in a day and a half, so the situation was getting critical. The nice waitress gave us directions to the local supermarket and we headed off after reserving a table.
This may seem weird but I love foreign supermarkets. I find it really interesting to look at all the different products available, so we did get a bit waylaid. By the time we got to the checkout - where you actually get the fags, we had a small trolley full of wine, snacks, juice and chocolate - nice healthy stuff!
As the check out lady was scanning our items, I asked about the cigarettes - "what brand do you want?" she asked. Well as they keep them locked up in a cupboard out of sight, I had no idea, so opted for the internationally recognised Marlboro. "I don't know if we've got them, we'll have a look" she replied. At this point the young bag packer headed over to the cupboard, rolled up the door and stood staring, for what seemed like ages.
Meanwhile, back at the till, the lady asked how many I wanted. I said "a carton", which generated a blank look. "You know - 10 packets, 200 hundred cigarettes". She was shocked "Do you know how much they cost?". "Well no - not really, but that's how many I usually buy. How much are they?"
"It depends, but usually about 28 dollars a pack" ( £16 / €18).
Shock - horror! - Ok, so they are packs of 25 instead of the 20s I'm used to, but even so, that's a hell of a lot of money to send up in smoke so I quickly revised my 10 packs down to 2.
The other girl was still staring at the options, so I went over to help her. I spotted just one packet of Marlboro which was immediately grabbed and carried off by another assistant who was clearly a bit more on the ball than my girl. So that left me with a choice of brands - none of which I had ever heard of - so I went for the one with the nicest looking box!
Back at the restaurant, I needed a stiff drink to recover from the fag price shock and we were offered their cocktail of the day which was yummy.
We shared the char grilled pitta bread with homemade hummus & crispy waffle fries with alioli to start and both had the market fish of the day for main, all washed down with a couple of glasses of vino for me and a Coke for Lottie. Delish!
As we headed back we decided that it had been a wonderful day and that so far we love everything (apart from the sea temperature) about New Zealand.
The following day, we would be moving on to our next destination - Paihia in the Bay of Islands.