5th December: New Plymouth to Rotorua. No barmaids!

I'm up early this morning. I'm looking forward to a long hot shower, but it's a disappointment. Not enough power and I have to wander around to get the water all over me. So I'm out of there quickly, I'm dressed and after a quick breakfast, I'm on the road. My next destination is the Bay Of Plenty, but I need petrol. Driving around looking for a petrol station, I find myself going down a dead end street with a small car park at the end. But it has a view over the ocean, and some interesting-looking volcanic plugs just offshore, so I take out my camera and take a few snaps. The air is cool and there's a gentle breeze which is welcome as the temperature is already starting to climb.




Packing my camera away, I turn and see a man heading towards me, pulling a golf trolley. As he loads them into his car, I ask him for directions to a petrol station. He replies in an unmistakable Lancashire accent which is all the more impressive as he's lived in New Zealand for 50 years. We chat for a while. Ken is 78 years old and retired. He plays a lot of golf and looks as though he could happily go round again right now. But he has to go back home to his wife. His second wife - the first having died decades ago. A picture of health, he's happy, relaxed, and a good advert for settling in New Zealand. He hasn't been back to the UK for a long time, and doesn't have any plans to visit. A good Yorkshireman, I tell him I'd be in no rush to visit Manchester either, and we have a laugh. The War Of The Roses is a very long way from here. We chat for 20 minutes about nothing in particular, before we return to the subject of petrol stations. Directions received, we shake hands and go our separate ways.

Five minutes later, with a full tank of petrol, I'm at the counter about to pay when I spy something I've not seen back in the UK. A bar of Black Forest Dairy Milk chocolate. Not normally much of a chocaholic, I haven't had any chocolate for quite a while. So I ask the cashier if it's nice or horrible, and suddenly I find myself in another conversation. She's an attractive, athletic Maori woman in her thirties, and we get on well. She tells me a bit about the local area, and I tell her about the UK. She asks if I'm enjoying New Zealand and I talk about how friendly everybody is. She tells me everybody's bound to be friendly because I'm so easygoing and friendly myself, and apparently quite funny too. Suddenly I don't want to leave this petrol station, and this very perceptive woman! Sadly, I do have to go, but I promise that next time I'm in New Plymouth I'll buy petrol from her. She says she'll hold me to it. More cheery goodbyes and I'm on my way, marvelling at this Kiwi nation. There must be some who are a pain in the @rse, but I haven't met any yet.

That, unfortunately, is the last memorable thing to happen for several hours. The cashier told me it was a long way to my next stop and she wasn't kidding! By the time I get to Mount Maunganui, it's more with a sense of relief than excitement. The weather is clouding and there's intermittent rain. And all I can think about is the amount of time I still have to drive - I'm going to Rotorua this evening, for a presentation tomorrow. My mate Gary and I are going to Rotorua council to talk about some IT services we could offer them.

But that's tomorrow. Right now, I have a coffee and a muffin, and drive around in the rain trying to get a feel for the place. The rain stops briefly and I take a photo of the beach - one of the reasons why this area is such an attraction.



But the rain returns and I leave, just in time to join the Mount Maunganui rush hour. It doesn't last long though - one advantage of having small towns and cities. Most of the journey to Rotorua is through intermittent rain. When I get there, I drive around and find a motel. It's convenient for the bars and restaurants, it's cheap and it's got a big comfortable bed. It needs decorating though. I have a quick shower in an unwelcoming bathroom, and head out for something to eat. My first steak for ages - it's good, but not as good as I was looking forward to.

I walk back to the motel, through pouring rain, and in no time I'm in that big comfortable bed. The room is tired, scruffy, in need of refurbishment, but I don't care. I'm knackered and I'm asleep straight away.

4th December: Wellington to New Plymouth

My Wellington interviews are finished, and I have to drive North to Auckland, where I'm hoping for a 2nd interview with a consulting company. They've been trying to arrange one for weeks, even in Australia. But I've told them I'm coming to Wellington and they're trying to get the space in people's diaries.

There aren't many routes to take. I'm tempted to go via Taupo again, to try and get a clear sight of Ruapehu. But as I approach the small town of Bulls (and the junction where I have to decide my route), there seem to be clouds in the Taupo direction, whereas the sky is clear over the west coast. So, I ignore Highway 1 to taupo, and follow Highway 3 up the west coast. A couple of hundred kilometres ahead of me lies the Surf Highway, and Mount Taranaki.

There's nothing to commend the drive. It's great weather, but not picturesque - the mountains are too far to the East, and the coast is too far to the West (and even when the coastline gets close, it still manages to hide behind small hills and trees). Johnny Cash keeps me company - a live show at Astbury Park. But this journey is difficult to enjoy.

And then, as I'm leaving a town called Hawera, I get my first sight of Taranaki. I'm shocked, partly because it looks stunning, and partly because it's still 40 miles away! I just wasn't expecting to see it yet, but there it is. And it's not small either, even at this distance. I see its white, snow-capped summit, towering high above a layer of cloud. It's a wide, cone-shaped volcano. Approaching from the south, it looks perfectly symmetrical, and it dominates the landscape much more than I expected. I check the map to make sure it really is that far away. It is.



The rest of the drive, it's hard to share my attention between the road and Taranaki. I look for spots to pull over and take photographs, knowing that they won't do it justice. And those damn clouds again! Not as engulfing as those that permanently hide Ruapehu, but it would be nice to get a clear shot of Taranaki. Still, the wind is blowing in the right direction, so maybe the clouds will clear. I drive on, but they never do.


I eventually stop in New Plymouth. I find a motel, find a bar, talk to a barmaid (again! I wish my life was always like this!). She's a single parent, doing a degree in Social Work. She works two nights a week to get extra money in. Once again, she's pretty (NZ seems to have a lot of pretty barmaids) but initially not very talkative. Maybe she's just looking forward to closing time, or maybe it's because she didn't really enjoy her time in the UK. She spent a year in England and Scotland, and found the people rather unfriendly. I apologise on behalf of Britain. She still wants to travel, and mentions Spain, which cheers me up. I also suggest Ireland, as they're generally a friendly bunch. We chat for a while, and everything relaxes. We finish with an amiable farewell and a few Happy Christmases.

I stroll back to the motel, and sleep soundly.

2nd December: A knight in shining armour drives from Havelock to Taupo To Wellington

I have another long drive ahead of me. A quick outdoor breakfast outside a Havelock North cafe, and then I'm back on the road. I was going to drive back to Napier, and see what it's like during the day. But I can't really spare the time, so I bypass Napier and get on Highway 5 heading for Taupo. I'm looking for the Eskdale mountain bike trails, which get good reports and seem to be in good terrain. Unfortunately, there's not much to see from the access road and there's not much point in me walking. So it's a quick trip across the road, to a cafe by the road. It's fringed by lavender fields (it turns out that lavender and lavender products are their main business). I really just want a pee, but I end up buying a piece of carrot cake and a piece of banana & chocolate cake. I'm assured they'll still be edible in Wellington (still probably 8 hours away). The rest of the road is pretty uninteresting (by New Zealand standards), writhing its way over the Ahimanawa Range that separates the northern part of Hawke's Bay from the Taupo Region. The last 30km before Taupo takes me across the southern part of the Central Plateau. There's a lot of managed forestry going on, and I keep looking around me and seeing more places that would be good for some easy cross-country mountain biking. I press on.

A few hours after leaving Havelock North, I'm finally dropping into Taupo. It's much sunnier than the last time I was here, but the summit of Ruapehu is still covered by cloud. Hungry, I park beside the lake, watching a whole load of different activities - swimming, sailing, windsurfing, canoeing. I play my part by eating the carrot cake. I take a few more photos because the weather is better than the last time I was here, and then I'm back on the road.

The clouds are moving slowly West to East, and I decide to drive round the West side of Ruapehu. I know the road, and I know it will be a nice drive. It will add a fair amount of time to my journey back to Wellington, but it's a nice day and I want to get a shot of Ruapehu if I can. Sadly, I can't. Never mind - the day has a different delight in store.

As I drive up the approach road to the ski field, I pass a couple of female backpackers walking down the hill. It's a long road, and when they reach the bottom, they'll still have quite a walk to the accommodation that sits on Highway 47. But it's a nice day, and it's all downhill. Good for them! I go as far as Chateau Tongariro, and take a few more photos.



The last time I was here, even Mount Ngauruhoe (the smaller volcano that almost seems to be in the Chateau's back garden) was obscured by cloud. This time it's clear, so I at least get a couple of shots that I didn't already have.





Happy with that, I head back down the road. There, about a mile from the junction at the bottom, are the two backpackers that I passed about 20 minutes earlier. They're probably enjoying the scenery and the fresh air and the exercise, but I stop beside them and ask if they want a lift. They're in the car almost before I finish the sentence! These girls certainly are sick of walking!

Emma (from Rochdale) and Anne-Marie (from Sheffield) are looking for the accommodation that will form their base camp for the Tongariro Alpine Crossing. They have a small route map and I have a road map and, after a few minutes of twisting our necks and turning these maps in all directions, I reluctantly tell them I think they've come the wrong way. Emma (who did the Tongariro in 2003, and is therefore the expedition leader) says sheepishly "I was starting to think we might be going the wrong way". Lol! I wonder how long she'd have dared to keep that thought to herself? If I'd passed them five minutes later, they might have been brawling at the roadside. :-) Thankfully they're too tired to scuffle in the back of the car and, with their legs getting a rest, they both see the funny side. As do I. The drive back up the hill is long enough to have a good old laugh and a chat. Emma has been living in New Zealand for a couple of years and loves the place. Anne-Marie has just bought a house close to where I used to live on the South side of Sheffield. She's just visiting Emma, and she loves New Zealand too. She'll be back. Tomorrow morning they intend to do the crossing and then, at the weekend, Anne-Marie will fly back home. I tell them about looking for work, and the car ride (only a few minutes) is filled with good natured joking and nonsense. At the top, Emma goes into the Tourist Information office that they left over an hour ago, to find out where their accommodation is. She emerges with a sheepish look on her face. It's about 50 metres away! We unload their bags, wish each other good luck, have a few hugs and I give them my banana cake. They need it more than I do.

Then it really is time to drive home to Wellington. The journey is long, but uneventful. I arrive fairly late but relaxed. I need to sleep. I have an interview tomorrow.