Something just wants to reward us. When it’s good, it just gets better. There’s no way down, only up. We leave the small farm and head south again. It’s time for the rest of the North Island. We drive through ancient kauri forests. We stop for lunch by the sea in a small restaurant that looks like Green Tomatoes.

Then we take the ferry across an arm of the sea that thought it could block our way. No chance, and on to Omapere. Gigantic sand dunes pile up on an arm of land off the coast. Even bigger than the ones we rode the day before yesterday. You could ride right into the sea here. We climb down the steep coast to the sea. (more…)

A great day must be followed by a bad one. But who sticks to the rules here? We set off early, with a car. First a little to the north, and then along well-hidden and gated paths to the west to 90 Mile Beach. Maoris show us the way. The last few metres are through ankle-deep sand and a small river. Jeep? Pah, Toyota Starlet!

Ninety-Mile Beach is not as long as its name suggests. But it is infinitely wide, now at low tide. The sand is firm and very even. At one point, a Kiwi held the high-speed world record here for a few years at 264 km/h. A few Maoris are driving around in big jeeps with a hundred fishing rods. We have other plans. (more…)

We set off early, four people, two cars. Our first destination is probably the only place in the world where you can shit on art with impunity and intellectual integrity. Hundertwasser spent his last 16 years in Kawakawa, leaving behind a public centre of deprivation.

Allgäu likes to heat things up and is still pushing even though I’m already stoking well. Later she says she would like to drive a racing car. I have to grin. We drive through the northern Northland towards the end of New Zealand. We cross the last of the primeval Kauri forests on rollercoaster-like roads. Cédric has been unwell for a long time. Everyone is a bit shattered from yesterday, which requires a few forced stops. (more…)

Today I’m heading out to the Bay of Islands. I’ve booked a tour where you can swim with dolphins. Seven o’clock is not a good time after the last short night. But the morning over the bay makes up for everything. The captain of the speed catamaran is a copy of Sandra Bullock. I wonder which film made her decide to take this job?

After just an hour at sea, we spot the first group of dolphins. They are on the hunt, swim fast and are difficult to track even with the speed cat. Again and again they jump out of the water in the morning sun. At some point, the dolphins seem to have had enough. They slow down and approach the boat. (more…)

In the morning, I finally swap cars. Smaller, newer and much safer. As I return the estate early, I’m stuck with an extra $100. No matter. Onwards. Up to Yaping House. An email almost tears me apart, but it’s good, very good. Frees me up. The sun is shining and the radio is playing Foo Fighters. I set off for Nordland.

A day to heat up. I only find out how much 20km/h too much costs in the evening. Tomorrow I’ll drive slower. On the almost 180 kilometres from Auckland to Whangarei, I stop at every single beach. I’m on the hunt for wind. My new yellow wings insistently demand to be released from the boot. But there is no wind until shortly before Whangarei. (more…)

I check out early the next morning. Drive on to Papamoa. Glenn is in Auckland, but his son can just as easily sell me a kite. As long as the kite is as good as it looks, I’ve landed a good deal. Barely used 12 North Vegas 07 incl. 1 year old bar and pump/leash for 430€. Got my wings back. Keep flying.

The Coromandel Peninsula is one of the oldest settlement areas in New Zealand. Both Maori and Europeans. It’s much warmer here. The landscape changes constantly between the Allgäu and the Dominican Republic. I fly a little carelessly, almost running out of fuel at the tip of the peninsula, 50 kilometres from the nearest petrol station. (more…)

In the morning I want to swap my car for a smaller one. Pete had rung A2B. Result: I have to hand this one in, there’s no new one. Half an hour’s hassle, then I drive on with the old one. It’s off to Mount Maunganui. A New Zealander on Nananu-i-Ra had put me in touch with a contact for cheap kites.

Cruising together is on the radio. Dead animals lie on the road. Tequila’s vibrations are getting worse. The first thing I do in Mount Maunganui is look for a hostel where I can use my laptop. It only takes three hours and seven hostels. Not even the tourist information centre can help. An hour’s internet costs a whopping €8. I can’t work here. I want to earn something too. (more…)

We drive on to Rotorua, an old thermal spa town. Geysers and mud holes bubble all around us. You can let off whatever you want without hesitation. There is sulphur in the air everywhere. Everything is incredibly expensive, especially adrenaline rushes. Our accommodation is Cactus Jack, a nice western village hostel in downtown Rotorua. Lisa has organised a meeting with the two Daves from Mana.

The night gets off to a bloody start. At some point I hear that the two Daves are heading south. The four of us had rented a campervan for three weeks. After five days, I’m left alone. The lights go out, the night gets even bloodier. A concert, a club. The constant “Are you alright?” Questions annoy me. No, not at all. (more…)

The night is only three hours short. At five o’clock we pack our things and catch the bus to Tongariro Crossing, an eight-hour trek across an active volcano. The sun is rising. The rocks at Lake Taupo look like Middle Earth. We set off an hour later. The path first leads gently through black lava fields and low-hanging clouds.

The ascent soon becomes more challenging. 300 metres in altitude over a loose lava field with a 60% gradient leave us steaming. At the top, the clouds break and we can see the summit of the volcano Mount Ruapehu. Then we pass through the first crater. The earth steams as we pass snow-covered slopes. (more…)

Die Erde schaut von oben ganz anders aus. Ich schau aus dem Flugzeugfenster, während eine Japanerin krampfhaft versucht durch wilde Fingergesten die DVD von ihrem Skydive zu einem wirklich bleibenden Erlebnis zu machen. Mein Puls ist unerwartet ruhig. Hatte zuvor eine Flasche Jägermeister geteilt mit Kevin, einem netten Kanadier, den ich im Fiji Beach House kennengelernt hatte.

Die Gruppe hat ihre erste Belastungsprobe. Wir gehen am Morgen einkaufen. Ja, das Essen ist selbst in den billigsten Supermärkten mindestens doppelt so teuer wie in Europa oder Kanada. Aber als wir anfangen, getrennt einzukaufen geht bei mir ein Licht aus. Egal was teuer oder billig ist: wer kein Geld für den grundlegendsten Genuss der Welt hat, wird verhungern, wie auch immer. (more…)

The last night in Auckland is a slaughter. I simply can’t see any more blood and so I go to bed early. But I still can’t sleep, the party and the snoring afterwards are too loud.

In the morning, after three hours’ sleep, I head back into the centre of Auckland on my own. Again in the rain. I am the first customer at A2R car hire. The price is great, the car very rudimentary. There’s really nothing about the estate that you don’t need. Crank the windows, adjust the mirrors by hand. And back up to Mount Eden to meet our mates. It’s a quick farewell. Although we all brought the apocalypse to Eden, the hostel owner says she would be delighted to see us again. We set off in the rain. (more…)

Pete, the anti-Ami, joins us. We head through the rain to Central Auckland to hire a car. It’s a sign: no car today. No movement. It’s been the same for days. Partying until we drop. I’m very tired. Don’t stay out, but don’t really stay in either. I’m not travelling the world to slowly dissolve. I’m looking for crystallisation points.

I lose money at roulette in the casino and win every poker match as long as it involves beer. Meanwhile, New Zealand is celebrating the third day of an old assassination attempt on the English Parliament. With fireworks. Lisa and Marc hang over the third bottle of tequila. I try to slow down where I can. But at some point I give up. They have to find the bottom themselves. (more…)

Lisa is looking for a job in a vineyard on a nearby island. Meanwhile, Marc and I go into town. We wander through the huge Domain Park. Visit the Auckland Museum. Stand in amazement in front of a 25 metre long Maori war canoe. Sniffing flowers in the greenhouse and wandering through forests of trees that look like they’ve exploded straight from the seed.

Auckland City resembles San Francisco. Quite small, but never cramped. Old and new make a colourful mix. After a portion of sushi, we buy food for the evening. A scoop of mozzarella costs €10. We spend the whole day meeting people from all over the world who live here. I wonder what they eat here. (more…)

I finish my diving course with 90% after a hard night. The last dive goes to 18 metres and is very nice. While diving instructor Andrew tells me about marriage plans on my last evening, his is on the mainland. Saki is also spinning his wheels. He asks a French woman for a massage while his wife listens. She pecks the chickens in the evening in a remarkably aggressive manner.

In the morning, I watch the paradise island of Mana sink into the sea from Saki’s little fishing boat. I keep taking pictures, zooming in closer and closer. At some point the zoom runs out. Paradise sinks into the sea. (more…)