Elvis is eager to get on the road early today and I do not complain. The Bay of Islands is our first destination. Rain starts coming down half-way there. We sit in our cars at a beach not knowing what to do. We eat a late breakfast in our cars. It is disappointing.
But the rain lets up soon. The beach provides a good view of the bay. A few small islands close by, the big ones further out one would not know are islands by looking only.
“It reminds me of Vietnam,” Elvis says. “The colors are all the same, the only difference is there would be more islands there.” Elvis had told me last night that out of the many countries he has been too, Vietnam was his favorite. Unfortunately, most of the things to do in the bay are touristy and expensive, so we give them a miss, and the overcast weather does not lend itself to any good pictures. You’ll have to trust me. A few waterfalls nearby look promising though.
Haruru falls is more disappointing than our breakfast this morning. Unremarkable is all the vocabulary I can muster to describe it.
“Well that’s it then,” Elvis says in a dull tone.
“Let’s hope the next one is better.”
“But it probably won’t be. Waterfalls are mostly unsatisfactory.”
“It’s not far out of the way at least,” I say. We move on.
Rainbow Falls, Kerikeri
“O.K., this is quite nice,” Elvis says. Rainbow falls is more impressive by significant degrees.
“I have to agree. Much better,” I respond. Not far from the highway, but surrounded by woods and cascading down into a serene pool, the falls prompt Elvis to take out his rarely used camera. We linger for a bit at the falls. The sound of the churning water restores some of the energy the otherwise unspectacular morning has sapped from us. Elvis ponders taking a swim in the pool, but he opts out. Being wet for the long drive ahead to the next camp is unappealing.
We get to the next camp in the early afternoon. In a small, charming little town in the New Zealand countryside, Port Albert. We go for a walk for a few hours along the roads. Elvis and I both comment on how reminiscent the landscape is to the U.K. countryside. The rolling green hills are dotted with trees and cattle and fences and panoramic views.
We finally hear from Kyle. The motorcycle he bought turns out to be in a sorry state. We’re headed through Auckland tomorrow on the way back south, and we agree to pick him up. It might be a month until his bike is fixed.
“Yeah, I didn’t end up buying it from the dealer like I was planning. I got it from this girl and since I brought it to a mechanic she’s been giving me the run-around,” Kyle says. We meet up with him around noon in Auckland. He is not particularly happy about his situation, but he is glad to see us, and we are glad to have him. We head off in the direction of the Coromandel Peninsula. The drive onto the peninsula is a vision, mountains frame the horizon at the end of a flat plain. I should have pulled over for a picture.
We find a camp near a river, which we take advantage of for a swim. Elvis and I spend some more time making our cars a bit homier. The night is getting chilly.
“Have all you got is that blanket there?” Elvis says, making note of Kyle’s preparation for his tent.
“Oh yeah, I reckon I’ll be alright though,” Kyle says.
“We’ve got extra blankets, I don’t need it with my sleeping bag,” I say, proffering up my own. Elvis also has an extra one he does not use. Kyle refuses, assuring us his one blanket will be fine. I’m pretty sure he is going to freeze his balls off, but it is his choice.
A picnic table offers us our best kitchen yet. Elvis and I had been putting the gas stove on the ground before. Dinner feels like a true home-cooked, family meal. Well, not really, it is just a pot of vegetables and beans and some spices. My original plan was to travel alone for a few months, and while I miss having the chance to be truly alone for a bit, I cannot deny the night and dinner is heart-warming. As we retire for bed, I am putting even odds on Kyle knocking and asking for an extra blanket.
Left Kyle, right Elvis
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