The day had finally come for us to pick up our campervan and head south. It seems like a long time since we bid farewell to Discorama after spending so much time in it on the first leg of our big adventure, and we were all looking forward to getting back in a van for a few weeks on our tour around the South Island.
We made our way to the airport van depot nice and early, where we were told our van would be about another half an hour as it was still in the wash bay. Perfect, that gave me just enough time to drop off our rental car and get back I thought. Well, I guess it was pretty dirty. Three hours and several coffees later, and we were finally given the keys to our new steed! The good news is that a three hour delay apparently automatically triggers compensation, so that would pay for dinner! And we still had just enough time to drive south to our first stop of Waitomo for a tour I had booked.
Waitomo is home to the most renowned glow-worm cave experience in New Zealand. You might recall (if you’re one of my three or four avid readers) that we went to a glow-worm cave in the Bay of Islands, and found it to be a fascinating experience. So, seeing as this is apparently the best one to see, we thought we’d better check it out. And I’m glad we did, as ot definitely lives up to the hype. This cave experience involves a boat trip on the underground river, as well as a walk through the cave. After wandering through the first section of caves, and being shown the spectacular limestone rock formations, our guide led us down to the boat boarding area in near darkness. Again, no photography was allowed on this experience for fear of upsetting the glow-worms, at least not until the very end just before you are returned to the daylight, so I have precious little evidence. But you’ll have to trust me when I tell you that it’s literally like staring at the constellations of a clear night sky, as you slip silently through the dark waters of the cave.
Time for our first night in a Motorhome since we left Spain all the way back in November. Oddly enough, it still felt perfectly homely despite being a rental van! Even though this one hadn’t been stuffed to the gills with all our bits and pieces that we’d curated from our shorter taster trips before leaving last summer, it was a very similar size and layout to our one. This time the kids got to sleep in the high sleeper above the cab, while we took the rear bed. We all slept just fine – I guess it turns out we quite like being in a van together. That won’t last forever, and I’m glad we’re doing it now while the kids are young. 6 weeks across America should be a doddle!
The following day, refreshed after our slightly chilly (van heater teething problems) first night, we continued our journey south to the town of Whanganui on the West coast. Our route took us straight past the corner of the Tongariro National Park, where we stopped for a view of the impressive peaks. Mount Ruapehu is the real big boy, and standing at nearly 2800m tall is actually the largest active volcano in New Zealand. And if you have ever fancied skiing on an active volcano, then this is the place to do it, as it is home to the only ski fields on the north island. Right next door to Mount Ruapehu is the conical volcanic shadow of Mount Ngauruhoe, which some die hard fans out there might recognise as Mount Doom from Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings films.
I knew nothing about Whanganui. Actually, I still know pretty much nothing about Whanganui to be honest. It has a fairly historic old town (it was one of the first cities in New Zealand), and the mighty Whanganui river flows through it. But most people pass straight on by on their way south. To be honest, we would have probably gone straight on by as well, had it not been for the fact that one of my old school pals (yeah I know, another one!) relocated here. I think I probably last saw Jamie on my 21st birthday party in Somerset. He looks the same. Well, he looks similar! Like the rest of us, his hair is greyer, his belly is bigger, and I guess he’s more grown-up! But that’s just what time does. Essentially we could still laugh about the same old nonsense we always could over a beer, or five. We went for dinner with Jamie and his partner Kerry-Ann at his house, and while our kids played with his kids we chatted about the old days, and what has happened in our lives since. It turns out his sister, closely followed by his parents, all relocated out here a while back. So it was a no brainer for Jamie to follow suit, and double the value of his savings by buying out here too. That’s the really appealing thing with heading out this way. As long as you can come to terms with leaving behind whatever or whomever you have to in order to make the move – you essentially end up with twice the value for your money, and with a fantastic view or a beach, and better weather to boot. Slightly inebriated, and with another nostalgic glow about me, we caught our cab back to the campsite. Our cabbie was your typical taxi driver. A million stories about everything and anything, and a total inability to keep any of those stories to himself. The twenty minute cab ride was just enough to hear about the first four hundred of them. But he was a lovely chap, and fiercely proud of his town (despite having apparently lived in about a hundred different places!). He switched the meter off as we neared our destination, as he was desperate to show us the beach. I didn’t have the heart to point out that it was pitch black outside. Luckily the 3 and a half candlepower of his 1983 Holden’s headlights was just enough to illuminate the first 6 inches of the sand, so we did get to see the beach after all.
Next stop, Wellington. I had booked our Interislander ferry six months ago, as I had organised as much as I could before we headed off to Europe. Unfortunately nobody could have predicted the gearbox on our ferry blowing up a week before we were meant to travel, and the ensuing ferry-based chaos. There are only two companies who can transport your vehicle between the two islands, and one ferry down equals total madness. Normally there wouldn’t be any need to book until a day or two before, but there are now no available crossings for two weeks. Because my booking was made so long ago, we were still given a slot, but it was on a much later ferry. We were supposed to be crossing at 8:30 the following morning, before making our way to Kaikoura for a whale watching trip I had booked for the day after. However, we had now been allocated the evening ferry leaving at 8:45, meaning we would lose a whole day and cross in the dark (missing the majestic scenery of the crossing), arriving at midnight and then not being able to access the campsite after a two hour drive on the other side. Ah well, not ideal, but at least we still had a ferry booking. There were literally hundreds of people who simply couldn’t cross. Many people even had to rearrange their camper rentals, flying to Christchurch instead and starting their journey from there at huge personal expense. So we were just gonna have to suck it up and get on with it.
Before we crossed to the South Island, we wanted to have a brief look around Wellington. After a quick pizza and Feijoa Sorbet Sour Beer in the perfectly quirky Golding’s Free Dive bar in Hannah’s warehouse, we made our way to the Wellington Cable Car for a view of the city from above. It’s not actually a cable car, it’s a 120 year old funicular railway which whisks commuters and students as well as tourists from Lambton Quay up to the Botanic Gardens 120 metres above the city.
At the top we took in a planetarium show at the Carter Observatory, where the kids learnt all about the Apollo space missions in their 360 degree theatre, before checking out the awesome WW1 Krupp gun overlooking the city outside the observatory. This gun was donated to New Zealand as a war trophy after it had been captured by the New Zealand Division during the attack on the Hindenburg line. It is thought to be the only surviving example of this artillery piece out of the 190 that were made. After taking in the far reaching views, we travelled the cable car back down the hill, and wandered our way back through the town. That was about all we had time for in Wellington, and we made our way to the campsite for the evening.
The following day we had braced ourselves for a long day of school while we waited for our night crossing. So we pitched up in a car park near the port and broke out the maths books. After an earlier conversation with a lady from the ferry company, she had intimated that there was a chance that we might be able to squeeze onto the afternoon sailing if someone failed to turn up. She took my number and said she would ring me at around two if it was looking likely. Not wanting to miss an opportunity to cross earlier and make up a bit of time, we made our way down to the port anyway to maximise our chances. Unfortunately nobody had cancelled, but I continued to make a nuisance of myself until the very last minute. And wouldn’t you know it, three vans had so far failed to turn up. She promised me that if they didn’t turn up by quarter last three, then we’d be in there. At 3:14 my face was pressed against her booth’s glass once again while my eyes were glued to the road scanning for any last minute arrivals. She finally relented, and as she cancelled the poor sods who were most likely still en route, she told me to run to my van and drive to vehicle check-in as fast as I could. To be honest, I didn’t know I could still run that fast! We were the very last vehicle to make it onto that ferry as they closed the ramp.
The crossing was every bit as impressive as I had hoped, and I was so happy to have seen it in the daylight. After you cross the Cook Strait, you enter the Tory Channel, with evidence of historic whaling stations in ruins at the foot of the cliffs. The scenery as you move down into the Queen Charlotte Sound is quite simply breathtaking, and a perfect introduction to the South Island. We finally made it to our campsite in Kaikoura at around 10pm. Yes we were later than originally planned, but at least we had made it, and in time to get a decent nights sleep before our long awaited whale-spotting trip the next day.