On the Road

20/02/11

The road trip was very nearly jeopardised by Tango that cat, who had to flee to the vet. After he returned and having dislodged some vegetation he really shouldn't have eaten, we set off on our road trip.

The vehicle of choice

The first destination to be checked off, Wanganui, was only a few hours drive Along the way we pulled beside one of New Zealand’s most valuable nature reserves, Kapiti Island. I very nearly suffered death here trying to get you a decent photo. Treading along sharp rocks jutting out of the sea wearing only flip-flops (or jandles, as they are known by the Kiwis) is not the wisest of ventures. But the island was so damned pretty!

Kapiti Island

We then meandered passed mountains and rivers and etc. You know, the usual stuff, then pitched up camp and clambered down to the river, where I had a splash about.

Feets in the water

21/02/11

Tent and Moon

On the morn we dismantled el tento and said goodbye to the river.                                                                                                  

Au revoir Whanganui River

We sped off to see Mount Taranaki, which I was looking forward to. By the time we had got to the beast the wench had stuck her head in the clouds, but we went for a stroll on her foliage strewn periphery.

Tree with moss type stuff

BIG tree with even more moss type stuff

View from a hole in the foliage

The next camp was in New Plymouth, which sits in view of Taranaki. The day was mainly a lazy one, primarily concerned with swimming in the sea; which was nice.

New Plymouth is a little sunnier than the old one right now

I tried to get to see Taranaki properly, but all day the clouds remained.

Taranaki clinging to the clouds

By the evening the volcano came out to play and I finally managed to steal a picture.

I will get to the top of you before I flee!

I had a meander around the beach in the evening and the following morning, and it was a veritable photographic feast.

At one point there was a couple zooming up and down the beach on horses and the sight made me think of my sister. :) 

For Loose-Goose

22/02/11

We then headed up towards Lake Taupo. On the way I wanted to get pictures of some sea stacks I'd heard of in Tongaporutu, but the tide had other ideas and took that chance away from me. Still, the area was still pretty and it was an opportunity to get another photo taken.

We booked in to a cabin at Motutere Bay. T'was far more luxurious than the previous camps, but did little to stave off the sweat and insect induced stinging. A swim was once again due. Taking a self portrait in Lake Taupo was not going to be easy, but I gave it a go.

A swimming moi

Before we settled down for the evening we drove down to the beautiful, and turquoise, Huka Falls in Wairakei Park. Here the Waikato River which, is normally 100m wide, is squeezed through a 20 metre wide gorge and over a 20m drop as it crosses a hard volcanic ledge and as it shoots through it's colour becomes much more vibrant. 

 

23/02/11

Clichéd pier in a lake shot

The Bog of Eternal Stench

Stinking Water I

Stinking Water II

Redwood trees

Redwood tree

Mother and Daughter

Lake Rotokakahi (Green Lake)

 

 

 

 

 

Mount Doom

 

One Day in Wellington

Well, my first real encounter with a Kiwi local was with a young Rock n' Roll chap. You know, the type that wear Motorhead t-shirts and tight jeans covered in paint and have an overwhelming desire to lob unwanted chips several metres on to the train track. After only a couple of days here I had to inform him of the train times. He seemed grateful.

The train journey in to Welly was a mixed bag of graffiti strewn buildings and wide rivers leading in to the harbour, which was nice.

Once I got in to town, after a bit of scurrying around I found Ferg's Kayaks with relative ease. This place combines sea kayaking with climbing, so I put my number down for climbing partners, took a few myself and headed off. As I ventured out I was surrounded by a horde of bikini clad amatuer roller-bladers. Due to their lack of skill they very nearly molested me, so I had to leave!

After such an eventful hour I felt that I must find a watering house and purchase some of the local load mouth soup. I also needed to get out of the sun before my brain melted. I opted for Mac's Hop Rocker Pilsner. In my expert opinion it's a fine golden beverage, best drunk in the drinking style of drinking. I then hauled myself for a peruse around the harbour. I started to take some pics of guys diving in to the sea.

Diving dudes

After that a young Moari kid made a loser sign at me, so I decided to leave. Eventually I made it to Cuba Street. Apparently it's the hippest place in town, but it didn't strike me as so. I ended up having a beer with a young Moari guy called Tu. At 36 he already had 7 kids and felt it his duty to impart his knowledge on Kiwi ladies, but whether he's to be believed is another matter.

The Ubiquitous Cicadas

Hemiptera: Cicadidae

One of the most noticable things about the suburbs in New Zealand is the constant chirping of cicadas. If you wanna hear the cute critters click here. These freaky little beasts sing away all day out here. I quite like it, but if you didn't the constant sound could very well drive a man (or woman) insane. Anyway, apparently New Zealand's cicadas can be key indicators of species richness hotspots and areas with unique animal and plant life, so there you go. These things spend between 3 and 5 years underground then eventually they dig themselves out of the ground, climb up a tree trunk or something and then they split their back open and shed their skin.

Cicada with a broken back

Laid back shell, enjoying the sun

They then pump their wings out...

One chilled out dude

...and fly off.

Fly my pretty, fly!

The inconsiderate little weirdiods then leave the old skin just hanging around the joint.

Empty insects

Sawdust covered abandoned abdomen

Sadly, as adults they only live for two to four weeks. During this time they mate and the females lay their eggs. :(

Anyhoo, lesson over. To finish this posting off lets induldge in some 17th century Japanese poetry, as you do!

A Cicada Shell

A cicada shell;
it sang itself
utterly away.

Matsuo Basho
1644 - 1694