Day 7 - Tuesday (cont..)
Despite our sadness at not seeing Dolphins, we headed back to Bertha, changed out of our “swim with Dolphin” clothes into ones more suited to a long car journey and set off.
All the way down from the Bay to Auckland we chatted about everything and anything - really putting the world to rights.
Our new cool bag was a godsend. We had nice cold water for our journey and as the afternoon became early evening, Lottie reminded me what else was in the bag.
Leaving Paihia, we realised that there was some wine left in a bottle and not being ones that like to let things go to waste, Lottie decanted it into a small empty water bottle. Obviously she couldn’t have any, being the driver, so somewhere just past Auckland I tucked in. We also had some nuts and crisps, so Bertha became a sort of travelling bar (is there no end to her talents?).
As we drove up the Coromandel peninsular, we were confronted with more stunning scenery, more poo in the pants roads and virtually no other traffic. Just gorgeous (I’m running out of adjectives).
About 20km from our destination, we stopped at a little supermarket to stock up on supplies and then made our way into literally the middle of nowhere.
One of our concerns about leaving Paihia so late was that we would arrive in the dark, but apart from a few traffic jams in Auckland, we had made really good time, so it was still daylight when we turned into an unmade road and arrived at Dragonfly Farm.
Fiona was in our apartment changing a lightbulb as we arrived and greeted us with a lovely warm, friendly smile. She showed us around our home for the next 3 days and then took us out to introduce us to the animals. They had:-
3 dogs that like to say hello, by hurtling at you full pelt, barking loudly, stopping a few inches from you with tails wagging - and looking at you with soulful eyes begging for some fuss.
2 cats - one of which is a little bit portly, because the guests keep feeding her and firmly took up residence in our apartment.
3 gorgeous enormous pigs that liked their heads being scratched
1 rescued piglet that had had her ear ripped off by dogs during a pig hunt - the NZ equivalent of fox hunting.
A field full of noisy but friendly sheep
Chickens and ducks
Donkeys and cows.
We fed the pigs, hunted for the chickens roosting in the trees and made a big fuss of the cat and dogs, before unloading Bertha.
After our early start, disappointing Dolphin cruise and long drive, we were completely knackered so decided to stay in and cook some pasta.
It was so peaceful, and there is something rather lovely going to sleep with just the sound of the animals.
Day 8 - Wednesday
I woke up bright and early and so did the animals. As soon as I slid open the door, Ebony the cat was straight inside and made herself comfortable on Lottie’s bed. There were chickens everywhere - all over the lawn, in the driveway and on our little deck. As soon as they saw me, they all came over to say hello - or it could have been because they thought I might have food - but either way, it was delightful and I’m even more determined to add some chooks to my menagerie at home.
I also spotted a duck making her way across the garden with a bunch of tiny babies behind her. According to Fiona, these are wild ducks that have chosen to make their home here, because they feel safe - how cool is that.
We decided to have our breakfast outside and were joined by Ebony the cat (on the table) and an overly confident duck. The duck clearly had a strategy and circled the table a few times, looking for the best access point. We thought it was really cute that he was so friendly (a true New Zealander) and so didn’t spot the immediate danger when he hopped up on to the bench seat. I got momentarily distracted by the cute ducklings heading across the lawn and in a nano second, the duck was up on the table, pecking away at my scrambled eggs on toast. We shooed him away, but he was one very determined duck and had several more attempts before he realised that you don’t mess with a Pergande women’s food.
Our plan for the day was to hire wetsuits and fins and go to Gemstone Bay to follow the snorkel trail, maybe stop at Stingray bay and then pop round to the very famous Cathedral Cove.
As I think I've mentioned before, I did a staggering amount of research for this trip. Every element was carefully planned; trip adviser ratings were checked, maps were examined and distances measured. So how I managed to miss the fact that you can't just pop to Cathedral Cove, I will never know.
So blissfully unaware of the marathon trek to come, we stopped at the dive shop to get our kit and drove up to the Cathedral Cove car park.
Now for me - If something is called Cathedral Cove Car Park, I would think it's safe to assume that Cathedral Cove is actually nearby. There was a nice helpful little map on the wall showing the 3 coves, but whoever drew it, clearly had no idea how to draw something to scale.
So anyway, as we thought we were within easy walking distance of all three coves, we decided to get ready by the car and leave everything else in Bertha's boot. We had already experienced Arctic temperature waters at Goat Island, so as we were now considerably further South, we knew it was going to be even colder. (It took me some time to get my head around the fact that things work in the opposite direction here). Consequently, we were prepared. Under my wet suit, I wore a swim suit a Lycra vest top, a long sleeved dive top, a pair of cycle shorts and socks. All this extra padding may have helped a bit with the cold, but was a right royal pain in the neck, when trying to get the wet suit on. I pulled and struggled and gradually managed to work my self into it, but unlike Goat Island, which was deserted, this place was very very busy. Lot's of people had arrived to admire the gorgeous view from the car park, and instead they got a great view of my backside as I bent over to try to work the rubber up my legs.
So we set off down to the first cove with just our fins, snorkels, masks, towels - wearing flip flops. No water, no sturdy walking shoes (or even trainers), no sun cream, no phones (in case of a drowning or toppling off a cliff, accident), no dry clothes, no rain jackets and in my case - no glasses.
You would have thought by now that I would have learned to set up my camera before leaving my glasses in the car, but for some reason it just never occurs to me until I check my pictures on playback and see this. It takes me a moment to realise that, no, my eyesight hasn't deteriorated dramatically in less than a week, I've just got the camera on the microscope setting.
It was a long way down to Gemstone Cove and it took far longer than it should, due to the fact that the pathway and stairs were surrounded by bushes and trees, cutting off most of the natural light. Without strong light and glasses, I really really don't see very well at all.
We finally made it to the bottom and were confronted with an interesting challenge to actually get to the waters edge. The cove was full of boulders and rocks of all shapes and sizes. Some were firmly anchored in place, others, rolled around the minute you put a toe on them. Lottie went first, picking out the pathway that was least likely to send me crashing to the floor and we zig zagged slowly down to the water.
Fins on, masks on ( ah now I can see, as my mask has prescription lenses), camera set to underwater mode, deep breath, brace ready for the freezing water and we were off. Two seconds later, we nearly abandoned the swim because as we were finally able to see what lay beneath, we realised there were Jellyfish everywhere. Big ones, small ones and every size in between. Very pretty to look at but neither of us wanted to find out if they were the very hurty stingy kind.
We decided to continue, but anyone watching us from above would have wondered why we were following such a tortuous route. It went like this;- straight, straight, jelly fish ahead, left, left, jellyfish, right, jellyfish, back the way we came, jelly fish, straight, straight, jellyfish everywhere. Stop.
To be honest, apart from the rather pretty, but super scary jellyfish, there wasn't a lot else to see. The snorkel trail turned out to be just 2 buoys with a bit of info on them and after a while we decided to try elsewhere.
Getting our fins off was far easier here than anywhere else we've snorkelled - the rocks and boulders turned out to be Godsend - somewhere to sit without waves spinning you right round, baby right round like a record, baby right round round round. (a little musical interlude courtesy of Dead or alive).
We clambered back over the rocks and boulders (I'm getting really good at this clambering over rocks malarkey) to the steps where we very slowly climbed up until we got to a sign post. It said (and I wish I had photographic evidence of this) Stingray bay 3 mins - Cathedral Cove 5 mins.
So trusting that the sign-writers had a vague clue what they were talking about, we decided to keep our wet suits on and not bother to go back to the car for water, better footwear, sun protection, rain gear, change of clothes and glasses.
We had spent so much time, rock clambering and Jellyfish avoiding, we figured (despite not really having a clue without our phones) that the time was slipping away from us and we should skip Stingray and go straight for Cathedral.
The sun was shining and it was all uphill, so within a very short space of time, we were sweating buckets. Still - not to worry - Cathedral Cove was only 5 mins away.
We walked and walked and walked. I still couldn't see properly and kept tripping over loose rocks and branches, but undaunted, we kept going - after all, it couldn't be that far now.
We passed loads of people, all heading in the opposite direction and fully equipped with walking boots, backpacks, (no doubt containing water, snacks, sun and rain protection) who gave us the most peculiar looks.
Some people smiled and seemed friendly, but it could just be that they were taking pity on the 2 stupid English women who had decided to walk to Cathedral Cove in wetsuits and flip flops.
After we had been going for what seemed like forever, we passed another sign.
Cathedral Cove 30 mins.
We stared at the sign and then at each other and then at the sign again. How was this possible? The one further back had definitely said 5 minutes and the map up in the car park had made the distance between the coves look pretty evenly spaced.
We consoled ourselves with the fact that they had probably calculated the time based on the slowest walker in the world ( but that's me) and we seemed to have been walking forever already, so it couldn't be that much further.
At some point it occurred to me that the first sign could have said 35 or even 45 minutes and some bright spark had scrubbed out the first number, - they probably thought that was hilarious - we didn't!
Anyway, we had already covered quite some distance, so felt that as we had come this far, we should just keep going.
After an awful lot more walking we finally arrived, but in the end, we reckon it took us somewhere between 45 mins to an hour to get there.
As expected, it was truly beautiful but here's the problem; when you have seen countless pictures of a place on the internet, there is no surprise, no shock and awe and that coupled with absolute exhaustion, makes the whole thing feel like a bit of an anti climax.
Determined to make the best of it and ignoring the strange looks we were getting from almost everybody, we decided to see what the cove had to offer in the way of snorkelling.
Now when you have been walking over rough terrain for ages, in completely unsuitable footwear, with the rest of your body encased in rubber, you can be sure that one part of you will revolt. For me, it was my feet. They had swelled up to twice their normal size and so getting my fins on with a cast of thousands watching, proved to be almost impossible. Fortunately the sea was as freezing as ever and worked its magic. Feet shrunk to normal, fins on, mask on, snorkel in and off.
Well almost, but not quite.
Cathedral Cove is very sandy (part of the reason it's so popular I suppose). Sandy beach and a very sandy sea bottom, which coupled with the storms that had battered the whole of the North Island, had brought the visibility down to zero.
When you can't see more than a foot in front of you, it's very disorientating and that coupled with a strong current makes things quite tricky. Every time I tried to fix on a point and swim towards it, I found myself heading in the opposite direction when I popped my head up to check. I blame it all on the very long walk, but I wasn't enjoying myself one bit. If there was any interesting marine life, I hadn't a hope in hell of seeing it, so I turned onto my back and swam for the shore.
Lottie, being much younger and fitter, didn't appear to be having any problems at all, so once I got close enough to the beach to feel a bit more in control, I just hovered until she was ready to come in and call it a day.
As we walked ashore, the thought of the long walk back (still without my glasses) was horrifying. I had no idea how I was going to cope, but clearly there was no option.
Or was there?
A little further along the beach a water taxi had just pulled up. I watched enviously as people disembarked and others got on. This is clearly what the sensible people do - take a nice leisurely boat ride to the cove with all the stuff they need, admire the scenery, have a little swim and then return from whence they came.
As we walked past, the extremely dishy skipper called out to us "can I take you ladies back to Hahei", "well yes" we replied, "we would love you to, but our money is in our car, which is parked at the place that should be called the - miles and miles and miles from Cathedral Cove car park - so we can't pay you".
"No worries", he said, "hop aboard, where I'm going to drop you is heaps closer than here and you can bring the money down once you've picked up your car".
Can you imagine anyone in the UK or Spain trusting 2 weirdos in wetsuits, not to do a runner and pay up.
We didn't need asking twice and ran up the gangplank.
When we were underway, he came round to collect the fares, but when he got to us, just smiled, winked and moved on.
The ride back to town (well calling it a town is a bit of a stretch - Hahei is tiny), was short and sweet - stunning views of the coastline and as the boat goes in a straight line across the water as opposed to winding up and down, backwards and forwards around the cliffs, remarkably quick.
We were deposited on a lovely sandy beach, arranged to return with the cash and started up the hill to the car park.
When we originally drove up there, what seemed like days ago, the road had the standard bends and curves. The footpath took a more direct approach - straight up.
Mr gorgeous taxi man had assured us this would be a lot quicker than walking back from the cove, and had we not been wearing our wetsuits and flip flops, he would probably have been right.
As it was, this pathway was steep, with a multitude of tripping hazards (rocks tree roots etc) which, without my glasses, I found every time - and not in a good way!
I cannot describe the relief we felt when we saw the car park up ahead and there was the lovely Bertha, containing our water (now very warm but who cares), proper shoes, normal clothes and most important of all - my glasses.
Finally the world came back into focus and judging by how Lottie looked (pulled through a hedge backwards) , I could only imagine the state I must be in.
There were still far too many people around for us to use Bertha as a changing room, so we headed into the public toilet block, took one look (and sniff) and headed right back out. We hid round the back of the block to change and managed to do so without exposing ourselves to anyone, except one bloke who had also opted out of using the facilities and was looking for alternative place to pee.
I don't know who was more shocked - him or us.
Back in Bertha, down the hill to the beach, I made my way across the sand to the taxi man who had just arrived back with another load of "sensible" Cathedral Cove visitors.
He asked me if I needed the taxi and I reminded him that I was there to pay. "oh yes - I didn't recognise you without your wet suit". I told him how grateful we were for the lift back and for trusting us to come back and pay. He just shrugged his shoulders and said that he's always happy to help. He told me that he's done this heaps of times and has only had 2 occasions when the people did a runner. "But in the end", he said, "they will be the ones to suffer - Karma!!!!".
After all the clambering, snorkelling and walking, we were starving. As we were returning our very well travelled wet suits to the Dive shop, we noticed a fast food van right next door.
Well it was more like gourmet fast food. No boring old burgers, hot dogs or fish & chips here - but actually on closer inspection we realised it was burgers, hot dogs etc. but just made to sound so much more interesting.
Lottie went for the Prawn twisters ( a very long prawn in filo pastry) and I plumped for my now all time favourite, salt and pepper squid.
In this little van the husband and wife team (we presumed they were husband and wife because they were just a little bit snappy with each other) managed to produce delicious food at ridiculously low prices. Our food, along with cold drinks and coffees cost less than half a packet of cigarettes!!!
After that we decided we'd had enough excitement for one day and headed back to Dragonfly Farm.
The farm had kayaks available for the guests to use on the little river nearby and originally we had planned to take them out when we got home. Unfortunately we were far to weary to even walk down to the river, let alone drag kayaks into the water and potentially get all wet again. So we had a cup of tea and a nice relax instead.
At some point, we remembered that today (or was it tomorrow - or yesterday - these different time zones take some getting used to) was election day in the US and having had no wifi, we hadn't been keeping up with the latest polls and predictions, so we put the TV on.
Well it turns out that we were quite a bit ahead of the US, time wise, and we quickly realised that many state results were already in. The nice people on New Zealand news were doing their level best to try to make sense of what was unfolding before everyone's eyes, but however you cut it - Trump was clearly winning.
The information pack in our apartment told us that the pub down the road had free wifi. So given that a) we were hungry again and had no food in the apartment,
b) we needed to let everyone know we were still alive and kicking and
c) we needed to know what the f***ing hell was going on in America
- we leapt into action, got ourselves ready in about 5 minutes flat and whizzed down there.
The Coroglen Arms looked like a wild west saloon, that had been picked up and plonked down in totally the wrong place, but as you would expect, the girl behind the bar was full of smiles and gave the impression she was absolutely thrilled to see us. She advised us to order our food right away as they were about to close the kitchen (it was 7.30), gave us the wifi password and our drinks while we frantically logged on.
Once seated we demonstrated the multi tasking women are famous for:-
We kept one eye on their very large TV, while checking Facebook and the Guardian and the Independent, and the BBC and the Young Turks web sites, while munching our fish burgers, drinking our drinks and discussing events as they unfold with each other, the barmaid and the 3 other customers in the pub.
So when, after the apocalypse, the survivors (fingers crossed we are all among them) are sitting discussing where they were, when the American people elected "The Trump" and set in motion, the devastating events that followed; Lottie and I will say "in a funny little pub, in the middle of no-where, on the other side of the world".