Super Massive Black Hole and Glowing S#!T

Waitomo Caves its one of the big’ins the must dos in the north island! After hearing this everywhere we went we decided it was our time. Being as excitable as we are we probably over hyped this a fair bit our selves, but it was defiantly built up a lot and by the time we arrived we were ready for whatever the caves and Gollum had to offer. After signing away our lives saying we were in a fit ‘responsible’ state (haha) we were introduced to a couple of the Lord Of The Rings extras who were in fact going to be our guides. This filled me with confidence as it was obvious as these lads spent far too much time underground as nether of them by the look of had been near a barber or a tailor in a looooong time! First rule of caving…its not a fashion pastime, its not glamorous and defiantly not meant to be sexy all that said I think we looked dam hot in our retro dive suits, white wellies climbing harnesses and big helmets. So the second part was learning how to absail, this was 100% pointless because (as I demonstrated to the guy on my way down the super massive black hole) I wasn’t fat enough to over come the home made friction device. Anyway we learnt on the ‘stimulator’ the best way of stopping in an emergency is to stick you thumb up your bum while holding the rope, Mairi really wasn’t getting the hang of it and it was quite embarrassing until she twigged that we were in fact just playing along to get this pointless exercise over with asap. Hahah. Only once it came to being lowered over the edge of the massive black hole did everyone, bar Mairi, get scared as we hadnt practiced the technique. Nerveless one by one we managed to squeeze/bump and grind our way through the hole and into the chasm (of Doom) below and reach the bottom intact. Next up it was a quick geology lesson as we climbed steadily deeper down into the cave complex past impressive and suitably old stalagmites. Then came the zipwire into oblivion. Feeling like I needed to make up for wee incident during my last attempt to man up during the zorbing I stepped up. After being strapped in to a harness and all the lights turned off I jumped out into the blackness…I mean pure black it was so dark! My harness quickly caught me and I sped off (I think I was going fast I have no idea really cos my hair was too short to blow in the wind). The only point of reference were the millions of littlie glowing specs all around me and below me?! After what felt like an eternity there was an enormous bang and I crashed to a stop swinging wildly completely disorientated. The first thing that went through my head was some twat forgot to take the knots out of this zip line AMATURES, but then the bright light was blinding me and when my eyes adjusted the face of our guide was inches from mine. WAY more creepy than the thought of being stuck in the dark in a cave on a zip line! Next up we are treated to hot chocolate and home baking and I realize how there were glow worms below me…it was just their reflection in the cold mirror still water below us. Jumping in was again built up and made into some really complicated exercise where in fact all we were doing was jumping with a rubber ring off a wee ledge into some scary black cold water. The physical act was a bit of a let down, but watching the other group members reactions was well worth it. As we were guided up stream below the glowing maggots we given a brief account of the caves history followed by the biology chat on glowworms and what makes them glow. They aint cute! It was time for the lights to be turned out and for us to drift back down stream in pitch blackness guided only by the wee maggots and their shiny shit. It sounds weird but honestly it was one of the most relaxing/hypnotic things I think I've ever done. My zen like state was shattered as one of our guides smacked his rubbger ring against the wall making some lesser skilled ringorers fall out of their ring and panic in the cold dark water. It was explained that the loud noises make the worms s#!t themsleves and so glow bighter. Soon the water became too shallow and the cave too narrow for our rings and so we abandoned them on a shelf and headed off on foot again in to the pitch blackness guided only by the rope in front. as we clambered through the caves the water depth changed dramatically and every now and then a wrong step could lead to you treading water and swallowing water (which actually tates very clean). On our arrival at the end of the cave complex we were told about the eels living in the waters around us a wee yin was pointed out, at 2ft he was probably the scariest part of the trip. To escape the labarenth we were required to free climb 2 water falls up to the surface and although we were all expecting the birghtness of day light the realilty actually hurt the eyes. After some pretentuous posing and frolicing in a shallow pool by the cave exit it was time to head back for some free lunch and to find some waves!

Now Im sorry but there's no way I'm paying hundred bucks for some peelywally dude with dreads and a cheap disposable camera to take photos of me...so I've drawn a drawn a diagram showing what it was like.

On the way back to Raglan (I know broken record) we decided to head north along the coast. This turned into one of the most entertaining drives we had (bar robinhood bay which just plain scary). We had heard of a beach to the south of raglan which picked up a hell of alot more surf and after a quick check on MacyD's internet which confirmed our fears about the lack of swell we set off due east. Arriving late in the last wee town we conducted a quick tour of the camp-sites before being persuaded into a slightly overpriced/slightly creepy camp-site down by the beach (which turned out to be  a river beach in day light bummer!). Undeterred we headed along to where we were promised there would be salt water and waves. The first beach we came across was epic big empty and backed by huge sand dunes and a dense forest. The swell here was all over the place with big close outs rolling through so surfing quickly dropped off the todo list.

After a quick walk we headed on to try find 'the next' beach up. With no maps and a satnav which said we were 150k or from the nearest road we took a random left and after passing a pig (pigs are lucky right) we continued down along this gravel road for ever and a day. Eventually we arrived at THE beach, only the wind had turned onshore turning the what we assumed had been beautifully groomed 4-6ft surf into lifeless monsters of mush! Mairi went for a run while I grumped about the swell while pretending to read my rubbish book.  Once my mood had lifted and Mairi had ran the length of the beach we went exploring. At the far end of the beach we came by several waterfalls free falling from the cliffs behind the beach down on to the sand. After a quick smell test it was decided showers were in order to rid us of the stench of cave wet suits. This was one of the best showers ever. I challenge any one to come up with a better one. views of the surf, warm, powerful and all to easy for a herbal essence poses!

lucky pig!

my new pants :)

check out the rainbow!

HaHa

 

Back to Raglan…bad tempers and vivid rainbows!

Arriving back in Raglan AGAIN…We headed straight back out to our old campsite and headed down the beach as the sun had already begun to dip low on the horizon. As we clambered up over the last sand dune the final rays of golden sunshine were getting caught in the big rooster tails of spray being blowing high by the stiff offshore blowing out over the outer reef. As we sat watching the golden plumes of spray turn from orange to red the dunes behind us gradually meandered through muted malt colors before becoming a crisp silhouette against the darkening sky. Only once the last touch of pink left the wee wispy clouds above the horizon did the most magical moon I’ve ever seen start to rise. The size of a china dinner plate; and looking just as delicate, with a hint of orange which faded as it climbed higher in the deepening dark blue sky. It’s glow casting eerie silver shadows all along the beach and picked out the set wave faces as they rolled in towards the shallows where they would eventually break. Their spray still blown high on the breeze casting creepy dancing shadows on the wet silvery sand.

The next morning we were super excited about getting in and snagging a few good’uns before ‘the mob’ got their act together and dragged themselves out into the line up. This was the plan anyway. It turned into more like humming and hawing about how it might have been better last time and why were the lefts breaking so inconsistently. Anyways we stopped faffing and got in, mairi electing to go try surf a left coming off the rocky point where there were more consistent waves, less people, but smaller and shorter waves. I tossed in my luck with everyone else and paddled out where ‘the mob’ sat with the confidence that I could out paddle the long boarders and get on the waves way before the short boarders. This wasn’t the case, not only was I not getting waves nether were any of them so after a frustrating half hour I decided to paddle out to where we had watched the rooster tails bellowing in the late sunshine the night before and try catch one of the big bombie out reef waves. Although they had big fat faces I was confident I could pump/boadyboard in on one and pop up as it hit the inner sandbars. The first couple of waves this worked a treat only on my 3rd attempt the grumpy old dudes with logs had clicked what was going on and one decided to try get in on it. Only he was too lazy/old to paddle out to the peak and so he turned half way out and started paddling only just as he caught the wave I came burst bouncing around out of the foaming wall of white water on in prone position, a quick look down the perfectly lining up face told me I was inside him and so got to my feet before him. Now this is where I am probably at fault…but you would have done the same! I delay my turn and then at the opportune moment (just as hes half popped up-takes awhile when your older) execute the most over exaggerated drop wallet laydown bottom turn as close to the front of his board as I could get, crossing his path with cm to spare before going on to have a cracking wave. On the paddle back out I had to paddle through the crowd of firstly laughing short boarders and then the daunting group of snarling longboards who had just seen what had gone down. As I start my apology to the old git he started his torrent of abuse, and when I repeated my apology and pointed out the rules he splashed me which made me laugh (which really did NOT help my case) so giving up I turn and continue my paddle out. Only the old git try’s to follow me while keeping up his abuse about English back packers, at which point I decided enough is enough. After correcting him on my nationality in no uncertain terms and following it up with my own brand of Weegie abuse he looked rather confused and paddled off down the beach to surf the waist high close out. While all this was going on Mairi was catching wee peelers over on the point by herself and wondering why I and everyone else was sitting on a rubbish sand bar which the tide had come in too far to break the dying swell.

After some pancakes it was time to head get away from the beach (my new best mate was also the local board hire man and spent his days sitting at the entrance to the beach) and head inland to bridal falls. Now after our last few encounters with Australian waterfalls we weren’t getting too excited, well bridal falls changed all that! This thing was spectacular! A track lead down through some pretty standard bush but then all of a sudden the bush cleared and we found our selves looking out over the valley and standing at the top of a bloody massive cliff with the water cascading off down into the tiny wee plunge pool. On reaching the plunge pool-there was A LOT of steps-we found the pool to be pretty big and the cliff even bigger than we first realized. The water landed in thunderous curtains and the spray drifted up and out in big spirals out over the wee observation deck creating multiple vivid rainbows.

Rotorua

Driving north the accusations of letting rip without suitable ventilation began to be thrown around and eventually we conceeded that it was infact more to do with the gaint colums of steam billowing out of the ground and maybe beacuse we were getting nearer rotorua rather than anything dodgie either of us had eaten. After checking our badly worn DOC campsite guide we headed off through the clouds of stinking steam for a campsite out by a nearby loch. The next morning we faced again one of our biggest problems: trying to decided what amazing adrenalin/cultural activity to do first.

Zorbing won out and when we pulled up at the Zorbing Center our curiosity overtook any sence of financial rationality and we jumped at the opportunty (there was probably some sort of deal). After handing over a proportion of our savings and singing away on all manners of insurance wavers we jumped in the back of a landy and got driven up the hill. While we were getting driven up the Zorbanots had loaded a selection of Zorbs (big inflatable hamster balls) on to their DIY ski lift and we were met at the top by a selection of Zorbs. At this stage we were given the choice of 3 different runs: Zig-Zag, Downhill, and The Big Drop Off, we thought we might as well start with the first and work through them, only issue being the first to go had to go down the in the 'The Black Zorb' which filtered out any sun light making the Zorbanot more disoriantated...There was much faffing so being a man and all that goes with it I stepped forward. So following a bucket of warm water into the darkness I dived in head first. Now at this stage i would like to describe the experience, but sticking to the first rule of what happens in the black zorb of death stays there. All im going to say is its possibly one the funniest confusing sensations I've ever experienced, if you have ever been tumbled by a big wave it was similar only warm, soft and less salty, haha. Mairi followed me down in a blue zorb and after she was reborn through the exit hole we were reunited at the bottom of the hill, and massivly exicted about giving a tandem run a shot. This time as I dived into the zorb with my classic style and grace, something went wrong and my big forehead made contact with the entry hole side walls and i ended up doing a half tumble midflight. Classy only my face was forced so hard into my chest i assumed i had broken my neck, it was only as Mairi appeared through the hole and threatened to land on me i realised i wasn't paralised and managed to dodge her. For the next couple of minutes we laughed so hard i forgot about my near paralisation as we rolled,slid,bounced around inside the gaint hamster ball all to the bottom of the hill. Feeling thorughly clean and excited about our next adventure we headed into town to find an eye sore.

This lead us to Hells Gates in the afternoon where we were guided around the valley of geothermic acitivity, boiling hot springs, bubbling mud and spitting mud volcanoes and much more. This was again through the clouds of stinking steam which gave the place a real eery feel and so living up to its name. Although this was all very educational and the storys about the local mouri tribe and how they used the hot springs in all aspects of life was pretty cool, but it was getting towards the time for our mud bath. The mud bath was more like a 2 person troff filled with really hot water and few inches of mud in the bottom, but this didnt stop either of us coating ourselves and each other in the thick smelly gray mud while reinacting the sima moment from the lion king and giving our selves tribal patterns. After a mind blowingly cold shower we were put back in the hot spa and alowed to cook for a while. I have litterly never been so cleen between the zorbing,mud,showers and spas I felt like a new man (apart from the very stiff neck). After a quick drive back into town we were picked up along with all the other old fogies and driven out to a mouri moarie for a night of tardtional food,dance and song. The flock of fogies were ushered into the extensive gift shop to wait for our mouri guide to come pick us up. He was late and we only just got out of that shop by the skin of our teeth with out buying something wither it have been a tradtional ceramonial spear or pair of allbacks socks, but never mind our mouri managed to squeeze into his costume and resuque us just in the nick of time. Being lead on the mahri through the totum poles depicting the gods and hearing the stories behind them we began to think about the affect white westerners have had on local collonies around the pacific. It was a sobering thought, but slightly birghten by how much effort was going into preserving what was left and bring back some extinct customs and tradtions. We were challenged by a group of 'warriors' who looked like maybe they either might have had one big mac too many or one too few. We took the upturned fern-showing its silver underside-in a sign of peace and followed them back into the tradtional gathering hall. Where we were treated to local dances songs and music. Half way through this the women folk were asked to hobble up on stage and take part in a poi dance...mairi soon found she had a natural flare for this but was a bit peed off when i was then asked to go up to learn the haka. To all of you who sit and watch the All Blacks and laugh, Its hard to sitck your tounge out and bulge your eyes at the same time with out smiling or worse laughing! I feel I gave a decent account of my self compared to the old gits on stage next to me, who have had an entire lifetime to perfect their grumpy looks. Next up we were served a sensational 'all you can eat' buffet of taradtional foods cooked slowly on hot rocks burried in the ground. Nether of us were holding back or standing on ceromany and completed 5+ round trips to the buffet, to the astonisment of the grays at our table who claimed they never could have eaten like that when they were our age. The night ended in a prayer and a trip down to see a gyser erupt under flood lights and sip hot chocolate while sitting on the hotrocks with another wee singalong song. The old-yins were fasinated by our tales of living in a campervan and surfing and enjoyed telling us how much more civilised their bus tours were.

Wellington!

So after retracing our steps back south to Wellington to meet up with Andy, we had some confusion over one way streets and parking options but managed to persuade the valet drivers that they really should valet park our van for us. This led to some measuring and minor confusion as it wouldn't fit in their car park and so it would have to be parked in the premier spot out side the Intercontinental Hotel in the centre of Wellington! As Andy had very kindly organised for us to stay in the hotel too, it seemed only right we take advantage of this, we were sure our prime spot would do Piwiwiwi Camper-vans some good advertising. 

After catching up with Andy and exploring our new room for the next few day we were about to head out to look for food when Andy pulled a bottle of Bowmore out of his bag!  LEGEND! We headed down to the waterfront to check out the bars and get a bite to eat and spied a place to hire kayaks which promoted scheming for the next couple of days. After an amazing and very swish dinner and we went to explore Courtney Place. The next morning we set off in our hired kayaks (as per usual a slight exaggeration of our paddling experience got us better boats) to explore the harbour. The highlight being the oversized fountain in the middle of the harbour. We couldn't have been luckier with the weather glassy calm water reflecting the skyline and wall to wall blue sky and not a breath of wind made the entire adventure all the more stunning. Coming ashore we were excited to see what else Wellington had to offer and to make the most of our time, but after consulting the eyesore staff it seemed we had to go out and make our own fun. So with the tourist office best offer being a seal and windfarm tour...We headed off up the hill behind the city and on our return to the hotel a quick sauna and swim was in order before a quick bite to eat and then out for dance production called Beautiful Burn Out which had a pretty hard hitting story line with absolutely amazing dance choreography. The next morning we headed out of town to hire some bikes and hit up some trails. After a long technical climb to the summit we raced back down tight twisting tracks with big banking corners and jumps. I've not had that much fun on a bike since I was 8 years old and learning to do no handers and wheelies!!!! 

palmerston n.

So after arriving back in the North Island we headed up to Palmerston North to visit Stuart and Ailsa, Merryn, Lynley an the kids. We were very kindly put up and fed by Stuart and Ailsa and spent a week enjoying home comforts and amazing home cooking.

Robin Hood Bay.

*for people who dont care for waves this might be a blog entry to skip*

So after a surf deprived week we decided to try and tackle the goat track over the two mountains to Robinhood Bay, a tinny wee bay tucked away up behind a big wrapping headland. From the second summit we decided to stop and try and get 'that' photo of 'us with our van photo'. Although it took many tries and lots of posing-not all if it flattering we Finlay got one we were pleased with. After descended back down the goats path into the bay we were confronted with a lovely 2-3ft peak and glassy off shore. The only draw back being the all most vertical shingle beach you had to negotiate to get into the water and once on a wave the occasional back wash of a wave hitting your wave!



Christchurch Dunedin

So on our way North we stopped off at few places, Gore Capital of Fly Fishing and Country Music, Dunedin where it was creepy how much it was like Edinburgh even down to Skerryvore and Runrig Cds being in the shops, and on to Christchurch where we were shocked by the devastation. We also found Nz, steepest street and a really good farmers market in Dunedin.