From Gisborne, we head south along the east coast. Shortly before Napier we stop in Bay View. The girls let me kite. Good wind at last, fully onshore at 15 knots. Problem: the lava shingle beach drops off steeply. waves 1.5 metres high break directly on the beach. I get washed so hard three times that I find gravel in my wetsuit above my knees. Then I give up. Not my day.
In Napier, Ilka offered us accommodation. We are warmly welcomed and have a nice little asparagus feast for our first dinner. The lemons for the hollondaise come from the tree in the backyard. At night, Quentin drives us into town to celebrate the half-year anniversary. A few bars, some 80s, then home again. Not much happens, just can’t always.
The next day we head into Napier, on an art deco tour. The ensemble is great, especially in combination with the Victorian buildings next to it. I love Art Deco, and not just because of the funny contradiction between enthusiasm for ancient cultures such as Mayan and Egyptian, but at the same time merciless glorification of progress with streamlines and rays of light. It must have been a fun time in any case, probably much more liberated than the hippies half a century later.
Everything bad only happens to make way for the good that follows. If Napier hadn’t been completely destroyed by an earthquake in 1931, the good people today probably wouldn’t know what to do for a living. Thanks to the earthquake, they now sell Charleston costumes and restore 1930s vintage cars.
It has been raining almost non-stop for days. The washing on the line is washed three times. Luka, Ilka and Quentin’s mighty Dober woman kills the remains of her Barbie ball in frustration. We watch some good films. Whale Rider was filmed just round the corner. There’s a schnitzel party in the evening. Stefan: would have been proud of us, it was almost as much as in France :-)
Ilka and Quentin recommend a trek to the hot pools. The girls had missed them in Taupo, so we set off early the next morning. A picture of a sign hangs in Quentin’s guest room: “Longest straight road in Australia, 94km”. On the way to the Te Puia Trek, we realise once again why such signs must fascinate New Zealanders. If you don’t get seasick driving in New Zealand, you can easily make Cape Horn in a storm.
After 1.5 hours of rough seas, gravel tracks and a river crossing, we arrive at the starting point of the Te Puia Trek. The trail leads through bushveld and rainforest through a rocky river valley. We only see two other hikers the whole day. Short, steep climbs and constant rain leave us free to choose whether we want to soak in our own sweat or shower in the fresh rain.
The only DOC hut is unlocked and deserted. The mattresses are really impressive at three by six metres. We continue over a suspension bridge into the last valleys. Landslides have blocked the old path, the new one is freshly cut into the bush. Rotting old giant trees remind me a little of the Blairwitch Project.
After three hours of bushwalking, we arrive at the Mangatainoka Hot Springs. At some point, plastic tubs were flown in. Green algae and warning signs make the bath an exciting experience. Afterwards, the river cools down considerably at 15 degrees. Then it’s back to the car. I can barely keep my eyes open to work in the evening.
After a short night, we visit the Mission Winery. Eric Clapton, a self-confessed ex-alcoholic, and Rod Stewart, a non-confessed alcoholic, have both played here. Eric Clapton understandably had less fun. The wines are good, the antipasti and Merlots in the Church Road Winery afterwards even better.
Unfortunately, we missed the only gannet colony on the inhabited mainland at Cape Kidnappers. There were no bikes, and nobody wanted to walk another 20 kilometres today. With a few bottles of wine in our luggage and full stomachs, we set off on new adventures.
Frank Woelky, born in 1973. Kitesurfer since 1998. Since 2006, I have been combining kitesurfing and web design on trips lasting several months off the beaten track.