We were up before daybreak, trying to pack quietly so as not to disturb our neighbors in their tent. Ro was in a less than great mood for pretty much the whole trip north, through Whangarei, past the Bay of Islands, and over endless rolling hills. Somehow a bird managed to find the business side of our windshield, which Sherry took as a bad omen. We eventually wound through the incredibly twisty and hilly Mangamuka Gorge. We were in a beautiful fern-filled forest, but the curvy road soon made Ro carsick to the point of throwing up! Sherry crawled in the backseat to comfort him, and Mark drove as slowly as possible, but she soon succumbed to the winding road as well, losing her breakfast right after we left the gorge. She discovered too late that the bag she threw up in had a hole in the bottom! Fortunately for Mark, he couldn't smell it anyway because of his cold.
The rain was pouring down steadily by the time we reached the Harrison's Cape Runner headquarters just north of Kaitaia. Our tour bus driver was a funny guy by the name of Selwyn Subritski, a German/Polish/Maori descended from the first white settlers in Northland. He knew the history of nearly every farm and building we passed on our way north, most of which were owned by members of his extended family. Our first stop was at The Ancient Kauri Kingdom for some coffee, scones, and a little shopping. Living kauri trees are protected, so they use buried kauri logs up to 45,000 years old to make wooden products of every kind, from wine stoppers to dining room furniture.
http://www.ancientkauri.co.nz/
Ready for a rainy bus ride
A single ancient kauri log was hollowed-out to make these stairs
Further along our journey, the bus pulled up to a quaint country store run by Selwyn's family; we didn't mind the obvious nepotism because their ice cream cones were huge, cheap, and delicious. We also swung by Selwyn's homestead, on the shore of a beautiful bay at the Houhora Heads. He made no secret of his lineage being somewhat illegitimate, as his European male ancestors arrived in NZ three years ahead of their wives, fraternizing with Maori women in the meantime. He educated us on the culture and economy of Northland, which is based on the "Three F's": farms, fishing, and forestry. There was a large open area by the roadside, made notable only by some unusual cement ruins; turns out it was a bomb shelter at one end of what was once a huge WWII tent city housing UK and US troops. We also passed expansive avocado orchards, which were recently started by some American investors who bought up a bunch of dairy farms. As we proceeded north along the peninsula, the fertile orchards and forests gave way to windswept hills used for cattle and sheep stations.
The aging Houhora dance hall & cinema is reportedly haunted
Ratana church at Te Kao
SH1 became a bumpy "metal road" for a while
The tour usually includes lunch at Tapotupotu Bay, but it had rained so much, there was no way the buses could get back up the steep, muddy road, so we continued on to Cape Reinga. We were given a choice of eating lunch on the bus now or walking down to the lighthouse and eating later. Even though there was a lot of fog and a little drizzle, we elected to go to the lighthouse now since the weather could very well be worse later on. We could barely see the ocean below us and couldn't even see the lighthouse until we were about a hundred meters from it due to the thick fog. The mist cleared briefly for about two minutes while we were there, just long enough to shoot a few pics, then the rain and clouds rolled through again.
The Hills at Cape Reinga
Spirits of Maori dead depart here for the afterlife
The iconic signpost
We had tea on the bus as we waited for the tide to go out a little more. Our drive back to Kaitaia would be on Ninety Mile Beach, and whether that part of the tour occurs going to or from the Cape depends on the tides. A toilet break revealed no sinks in the huge loo at the Cape, just a battery of sanitary hand gel dispensers; there's no plumbing or electricity this far north. Just as we were about to leave, the weather started to clear, and half the people on the bus rushed out to snap a few last pics.
Te Paki Stream empties onto Ninety Mile Beach near it's northern end, and the flat riverbed provides easy vehicular access to the beach, but what makes it famous is the huge sand dunes nearby used for sandboarding and tobogganing. Since we were still waiting for the tide to go out, we'd have a whole hour (instead of the usual 30 minutes) in which to try to maim ourselves. We saw a few people going down headfirst on boogie boards, but Selwyn informed us that Harrison's no longer encourages this because too many people were dislocating their shoulder and breaking their collarbones when they wiped out, so now they only provide feet-first toboggans. They were like a cheap, plastic, hardware store snow sled. You sat on these and leaned back with your arms trailing behind you, steering and braking with your hands. We were warned not to put our feet down, or bad things could happen. And, oh, by the way, with all the rain recently, the sand was packed hard and extra fast, so be careful. Niiice.
Te Paki Stream snaking towards the Tasman Sea
The 100 meter-high dunes overlooking the stream looked pretty imposing from the bottom, but even more so from the top. A steady stream of tourists dragging their toboggans snaked up one side of the dune, with nervous people milling about the crest, sledding down in order of bravery. Casual observation revealed that about a fourth of the people made it down fast and straight, eliciting cheers from the crowd for a nice run. Another fourth made it down okay, but slowed themselves down so much with their hands that their efforts weren't worthy of acknowledgment. Another fourth wiped out about halfway down, rolling on the sand but not having built up enough speed to do any real damage to themselves. The other fourth wiped out at high speed near the bottom, taking some pretty painful-looking tumbles. You didn't want to be that guy.
Do I really want to do this?
Seemingly everyone was going down these dunes, from blue-haired old ladies, to a dad carrying a baby, to kids not much older than Ro. Obviously, accident liability is a non-issue in NZ. Some of those old people took some pretty nasty tumbles, and got up looking embarrassed but unhurt, so we figured, "hey, if they can do it, so can we!" Ro took one look at the massive dune and pleaded with Sherry not to go, but when she saw Mark make it down unscathed, she summoned her courage and marched the long way to the top. Meanwhile, Mark watched Ro have fun sliding down a bunny slope. Sherry found a smooth, unused path down the dune, and her ride was going great...until she hit the change in slope near the bottom. As the toboggan slowed, she slid off the front of it, flipping completely over as the sled shot skyward. She was facing uphill when her left foot stuck in the sand, wrenching her left knee while the rest of her kept rolling downhill. The audible, sickening "snap" in her knee was not what she wanted to hear, as she immediately grabbed it and winced in pain.
Sherry trying to psych herself up for a go
Ro wasted no time wiping out every chance he got
Sherry showing 'em how it's done
Scratch that
There goes the knee!
!%$@#&!
Mark and a few other witnesses rushed over to assist Sherry, who wasn't getting up. Ro wasn't paying attention, though, and even though Mark shouted at him to tell him where he was going, Ro soon looked around bewildered, thinking he'd been abandoned and calling out for us, tears welling up in his eyes. A nice lady saw what was going on and escorted him over to us as Mark, a nurse, and Allan (one of the bus drivers) tended to Sherry. She got carried off the dunes like an injured NFL player with her arms around Mark and Allan's shoulders, commandeering the backseat of the bus so she could stretch out. Between the ice packs and a few Panadol, she was soon comfortable, but understandably upset. Ro made sure mum was okay, then went off to fetch his jandals (i.e. take a few more toboggan rides). Selwyn tried to lighten the mood, informing her that she was the first of his passengers ever to get injured.
Borrowing ice packs from the chilly bin
Once settled on the bus, Sherry had the ignominy of being "that American girl" who everyone took pity on but was glad they weren't her. Mark was grateful this whole trip wasn't his idea, or he would have felt really guilty! The bus caravan eventually continued on through the Te Paki Stream to Ninety Mile Beach. The beach is very pretty, but nothing all that special compared to other beaches in NZ, except for the fact that you can drive a bus on it! The beach was actually a MUCH smoother and faster ride than SH1, although you could see the dangers inherent in the drive in the form of a few rusted-out car frames. There were a few spots where the water was still standing on the beach, and we plowed through them in a spray of water. Selwyn pointed out a large outcrop of rocks ("the bluff") where one of his cousins had recently been swept out to sea by a big wave while fishing. Guess our problems could be worse, eh?
Mark on Ninety Mile Beach
The reason why rental cars aren't allowed on the beach
Making our way between waves
We made a stop at a roadside fruit stand (owned by one of Selwyn's mates, of course) where Mark picked up a small watermelon. Northland is pretty rural, and tourist dollars are greatly needed here, so we were happy to help out. The bus had to make another stop at The Ancient Kauri Kingdom for the salt spray to be washed off and the interior swept of sand. Everyone except Sherry was getting off the bus, but Ro wouldn't leave her side, like a lion cub protecting his wounded mother. Mark fetched her a flat white from the café, with a slushy for Ro.
Selwyn scores a rockmelon
Ancient Kauri Stump Couch, only $55,000
Everyone was very nice and helpful to Sherry, and we thanked the crew at Harrison's for their assistance. Fortunately our motel, the Kaitaia Motor Lodge, was right across the street from Harrison's. Ro wanted to play on the small climbing frame they had there, but we needed to get Sherry something more than just an ACE wrap and a couple of ice packs. We looked for a chemist where we might buy some crutches, but they were all already closed. We ended up at the A&E (Accident & Emergency) at the local hospital. It was really more of an after-hours clinic, and the doctor wouldn't even be there for another hour. Of course, they wouldn't just give us what we needed without assessing Sherry, so she had to hop to a gurney (the big-boy wheelchair she was on wouldn't fit through the door) and Phil, one of the nurses, checked her out.
Ro pitching in to help mum
To be fair to Phil, Sherry's knee wasn't swollen, and there wasn't any bony tenderness, so the need for an x-ray tonight was arguable, especially since we'd have to wait around for a doctor to read it anyway. It'd be easier to just get that done back in Tauranga. He wrapped her knee tightly with Tubi-grip and a crepe bandage to give her some stability, but when she tried to walk on it, it promptly gave way in painful fashion and the swelling ensued. Unlike in the States, Emergency Departments here only lend you crutches - they expect them to be returned in a few weeks, and Phil was hesitant to give away one of his last pairs of crutches to non-locals. He and Sherry were at a bit of a stalemate by this point, but Mark gave him an out when he asked if they had any extra Zimmer splints lying around, so at least her knee wouldn't give way. Now Phil got wise to us and asked if we had any medical training, at which point we saw our window of opportunity and played the doctor card, as much as we hated to. Once he learned that we knew what we were talking about, and weren't just hypochondriac Yanks or drug-seeking, he took Sherry a little more seriously, and gave her a splint AND the crutches, while thanking us for coming to NZ and helping out their short-staffed healthcare system. Good on ya, Phil!
On the way back to the motel, we stopped to pick up some Subway for dinner, and some much-needed wine from the Liquor King (Mt Difficulty Pinot Noir was on SALE - score!). Ro played with some Indian kids at the motel while we ate outside watching him. He had a brief swim at the pool before winding down, watching The Mummy Returns, which had him transfixed. Just as Sherry will have to get used to life on one leg for a while, Ro will have to get used to her not being able to help him as much, so Mark took over supervising his bath and bedtime routine. Ro made the most of his rare opportunity to tell Sherry, "I told you so!"
Ro thought the splint made him look like a Transformer
No comments:
Post a Comment