The Coromandel

First of all, apologies to those reading this almost as frequently as we are.... we're now about 2 weeks behind on our blog posts and trying to catch up when we can! Who would have thought it, but internet access is far less frequently found (and far more expensive) here in NZ than in South America, so ever since we left the 'home comforts' of Hamish & Kirsten's pad in Auckland it's been a struggle to keep up.

Anyway... after the Tongariro crossing we went up to the Coromandel peninsula with H&K for a night, staying at a family friend's bach in posh Pauanui, followed by a night of solo camping at a place called Cooks Beach, where as there were almost no other campers we just had some rather curious ducks for company (curious in that they wanted to eat our dinner, not that they were weird looking or something).

On the way to the Coromandel from the Taupo area we passed through some real nowhere towns - a real taste of rural New Zealand! The most redeeming feature of a place called Te Aroha, for example, was its slogan, printed under "Welcome to Te Aroha" on the sign as we drove into town. "Get into hot water", it said (there are thermal springs there, and presumably possibilities for some as-yet-undefined silliness... otherwise the slogan wouldn't work). We also drove through Paeroa, which is the home of Lemon & Paeroa, a fizzy drink that has been "world famous in New Zealand... since ages ago". You get the picture.

Pauanui was the haunt of NZ's millionaires during the 70s and 80s, and is still an exclusive resort town (more of a big suburb really) of expensive looking 'real estate'. It has a great beach but the weather when we there was rough so no swimming was to be had (in fact we called barely walk along the dunes for the wind). We did however get some good 'fush & chups'.

A day later and further up the coast we visited Cathedral Cove (stunning scenery) and Hot Water Beach, where thermal springs bubble up onto the beach at low tide and you can dig a hole and sit in it and warm yourself. You do of course have to share that hole with a coach load of germans but we guessed that was part of the fun.

H & R

Tongariro Pass

The Tongariro Pass is listed in the Lonely Planet as one of NZ's best one day hikes - one that is not too taxing on those of us who are less that fit, even if it is 17.5km long.

We rose early on Monday morning and were taken by mini bus to the start of the 'tramp' within Tongariro National Park, with scroggin (a fruit, nut and chocolate mix provided by Kirsten) and sandwiches in hand. The walk started off as just that, along a gravel path on a gentle incline past alpine plants and moss. We crossed an ancient and flat crater, with massive volcanic rock boulders and were met with a tough climb.... up the side and onto the ridge of the extinct volcano. Huffing and puffing we continued up past spectacular and ever changing scenery of a volcano cone (Red Crater) and down a steep scree slope to aquamarine coloured lakes (Emerald Lakes), finally resting by a volcano crater lake for lunch. Rested and recovered the scenery changed from moonscape to grassy scrub as we made a long decent to the other end of the trail, which is within the 'bush' of fern trees and other lush greenery. The majority of the walk is in fact down hill, but the early part of the tramp was by no means the walk in the park that The Good Book made out. No matter, we all felt a huge sense of achievement as we conked out in the shade at the end the trail. We had managed the 17k hike in 6 hours and 20 minutes. Not bad for a pair of 30 somethings and Robin!

Hannah

Turangi and Lake Taupo

Kirsten's family has a bach (pronounced batch, a Kiwi holiday home) in Turangi, on Lake Taupo - a huge and beautiful body of crystal clear water in central North Island - where we stayed for three nights.

On Sunday the weather wasn't looking too promising, so we visited Taupo Hot Springs via Sean the Prawn's Prawn Park (don't ask). Taupo Hot Springs is a small natural spring spa/resort, with the added bonus of a fast water flume..... I think Hamish and Robin spent more time climbing the stairs and whizzing down the flume than floating in the warm 'medicinal' waters of the spa pools. A lovely time was had by all.

Hannah

Rotorua (or do I mean Roto-Vegas?). It stinks.

On the 03/02/08 all 5 of us set off for Turangi on the southern shore of Lake Taupo. Rhonda, Robin and I took a detour via the touristy spa town of Rotorua.

The town and surrounding area have become a tourist attraction due to the many hot-water springs, geysers and bubbling mud pools. We didn't go to the main attractions as it was late in the day and the prices were exorbitant, earning the town the moniker Roto-Vegas. But that is not the reason why the town stinks. The eggy pungent odour is caused by the sulfur that heats the water. Cue fart jokes.

We did check out the Maori village, with its meeting house or Marae and the many springs that bubble up in the villagers back yards, and the bubbling mud pools near to the town. The mud pools were very entertaining as the sulfurous gas that heats the water causes it to boil, so large splats of grey mud were popping, bursting and plopping all over the place. (Again, we are easily pleased).

Hannah

Rhonda the Honda

As well as giving us a base for the coming two weeks, H & K, lent us their second car. A family hand me down, Rhonda is an ageing Honda Accord with pop-up head lights and a water feature. We all love Rhonda.

In fact I love her as if she was my own. Well, she practically was for two weeks as I was the one in the driving seat. Poor Robin, he has been sitting in the passenger seat as my navigator (and will continue to do so for the rest of trip), for the last two weeks. No doubt he has been biting his tongue the whole way - a few ground rules were laid out before I even pulled out of the driveway......

Hannah

Auckland at last

How happy were we to arrive at Auckland airport? Very. It didn't matter that it was 4 in the morning and we needed to wait an hour and a half for Hamish to pick us up; the elation from just getting the flight was yet to fade. We said our fair-wells to Irish Marc, making plans to meet up with him in Auckland for a beer sometime in the near future, and were whisked 'home' to Birkenhead, in the North Shore area. Tired but happy.

We spent a couple of days catching up on ourselves and investigating central Auckland, which is beautifully situated on the bay. The downtown area is small and attractive, fanning out from the ferry terminal and an area known as the 'Viaduct' which is harbour-side, with offices and bars. While there we managed to fill ourselves on sushi - cheap and abundant, although often as likely to be made by Koreans as Japanese. Joy. We also bought a replacement camera. Double joy.

Hamish and Kirsten's little house is of a typical single storey, weather-board style that is fully detached. It dates from the 1930's (quite old for New Zealand) and stays lovely and cool in the scorching midday sun. It was a real pleasure to be their guests, entertained by Oscar, their very cute 9month old. Our stay made even more comfortable by the fact that their spare bed is the most comfortable bed ever, let alone on our whole trip! (Thanks H & K).

Standing by in Santiago

The journey back to Santiago from Buenos Aires was delightful in that it was uneventful. Given the events of the last week we were both grateful for that.

Once we'd arrived at Santiago, we scoped out the airport looking for the Qantas desk. There wasn't one, so we talked to LAN Chile instead - they operate the flight to Auckland and Sydney on Qantas' behalf. We were told that it wasn't possible to tell us whether we would be successful in getting on that night's flight, as the shared Qantas/LAN booking system wasn't accessible until check-in opened at 7:30pm. Come back then, we were told, and we did - after killing some time by heading into town for an hour or so.

We returned to the airport at about 6:30pm and joined the check-in queue which to our surprise was already building. To our even greater surprise, the eight people in front of us all took their turn to line up at the check-in counter, and then didn't load their luggage. "Oh bugger" we thought. Perhaps we weren't the only people stuck on standby. When our turn at the counter came, the check-in clerk fiddled with her computer terminal for what seemed like an eternity, before telling us simply to come back at 10pm.

We returned at about 9:30pm and waited until the throng of people dwindled to those who were on standby. There were about 20 of us. A general air of disinformation and confusion reigned. Eventually the three people who had been at the front of the queue were given boarding cards. No explanation was offered to us or any of the others. Some people got angry, especially when it transpired that despite everything it was still possible to buy your way onto the flight... with a $3700US price tag attached (which more than paid for the cost of bumping some other passenger to the next day's flight).

Completely demoralised, we were left with no option but to spend the night in Santiago. While waiting we had spent some time chatting to Marc, an Irish guy in the same boat as us. He had spent the previous night staying at "Hostal de Sammy" where we had stayed two weeks previously, and knew that they had beds available. It was an easy decision to share a cab back to Sammy's with Marc and vent our frustration by getting drunk in Sammy's back yard.

Sunday morning's hangover turned into the afternoon's resolve to get ourselves on that plane. We arrived at the airport a ridiculous 4 hours before check-in even opened, and so had the pleasure of starting the queue (having seen the three at the front of the queue get on the night before, we were determined not to miss out). Our hopes were raised when LAN's manager even confided in us that as the plane was only overbooked by 5 seats this time, there was a better chance of us getting on than on Saturday. However our hopes were later dashed - no standby passengers would be allowed to board. Wishing that the LAN manager hadn't said anything at all, we stored our backpacks at the airport and got the bus back to Sammy's.

On Monday a terrible feeling of getting used to the drill began to set in. Determined not to waste our cash on overpriced airport food, we went to the supermarket with Marc and prepared a good lunch and sandwiches for later. We got to the airport at 4pm and started the queue again. Amazingly we managed to pass the time quite easily by playing cards and travel scrabble, and greeting the by now familiar faces of the other standby passengers.

Once check-in opened we followed the drill of going to the counter, pleading our case, and being told to come back at 10pm. None of our small group seemed optimistic, and after probably a few too many beers we returned to the check-in counter to see people continuing to check in until well past 10pm - much later than on Sunday. It didn't look good. "Just a few more days of this, then let's sack it off and go to Bolivia or something" was the backup plan that we formulated to pass the time until the date that we would definitely be able to travel - March 8th.

Then apropos of nothing the LAN manager started calling out from a list of passenger names. Two names at first. Then three of the family of five who were on their seventh night of waiting. "Well at least there's some progress" we thought, assuming that the fact that not the whole family would be boarding would not bode well for our chances. But our luck was in. First Hannah's name was called, together with Marc's and another passenger's. Was I not going also? Quickly Hannah and I decided that she should go whether I could go or not. But then my name was called too. Amazed, we headed for passport control, Hannah even doing a cartwheel along the way. At the gate the plane was delayed so there was time for more beers and for sending messages to Hamish and Kirsten in New Zealand... we were on our way at last!

Robin