Terry and John NZ Travels
On 2 March this year, my old classmate from my High School days at Marist Bros Ashgrove, Terry Boyle arrived in Auckland from Brisbane. He had taken the opportunity to come over early ahead of his wife Rhonda who was attending a Medical conference in Wellington a little later in the month. Terry had suggested that we do a little touring on the North Island - going north by bus and then south from Auckland by a rental car which could be left in Wellington when he rejoined his wife and I flew back to Auckland.
It was a very enjoyable trip and I could only be impressed by Terry's acute observations, his abilities and his courage. He is completely blind and has been since his early twenties. After a long career in Social Work, he has retired and has an avid appetite for new experiences and new learnings.
All this is reflected in his detailed and vivid account of the trip - only excerpts of which are the basis of the storyline in this blog. Most of the pictures are mine but one or two of them are also taken by Terry.
Terry's Tale
Trip Expectations. What DID I want to experience in NZ? Answer: open the senses to absorb as much as possible - to hear, feel, smell, taste, touch, walk through, etc. John, my guide, companion and friend, did a fine job in helping me meet those goals, in looking after me - and, to boot, being chief cook, bottle washer and chauffeur! From previous excursions, he already had a good appreciation of the things that interested me. The experience exceeded the expectation. I learned the difference between being a traveller and a tourist. There were many many hours of story telling, and I learned a little more about the nature and development of identity - mine, his, ours and theirs.
Saturday 2 March: Brisbane. awoke to the sound of heavy rain on the roof. As we drove to the airport, Rhonda commented on the blue black mountains of cloud in the east. Rain was pelting down as I boarded. The flight from Auckland had been delayed on arrival by the bad weather in Brisbane. As a consequence, touched down in Auckland 5.35pm local time. I did have to wait around a bit for the Meet and Assist worker to accompany me through Immigration and Customs to meet my friend John. Drive to his home to the northern suburb of Beachaven where Prabhash and his wife Desika warmly greeted me. D had prepared rice and vegetables; John cooked some chicken. It was after 11pm by the time we got to bed.
Sunday 3 March: Slept well in John's room - he ignored my embarrassment, and insisted on using the sofa in the lounge. I am only taking a backpack for this 3 day bus trip. The young couple drove us into the city where our tour bus was scheduled to depart at 7.30; We headed north across the harbour bridge. First stop, at 9.30 was at the Kauri and Pioneer Museum at Matakohe. The forty minutes there was far too brief - beautiful furniture, carved amber gum, big slabs of wood near 50 metres in length and a large log, about 2.2 metres in diameter, on the back of a wagon.
We were told the grazing and dairying Northlands area was experiencing drought with little rain in the past 7 weeks. Rain usually falls regularly throughout the year, averaging about 55 inches but not so this year. There was a light mist of rain as we approached this settlement with some heavier showers encountered later in the morning. (this was the only occurrence of precipitation I encountered during my 12 days in N.Z.).
The vegetation was wet in Rickers Walk in the Waipoua Forest as we took a short walk up a steep hillside to get our first close look at some young kauri trees and large tree ferns. Before our lunch stop, we paid our respects to one of the largest kauri trees growing in the Waipoua forest. This tree, which has a diameter of 2.3 metres, is known as Tana Mahuta - god of the forest. It is believed to be over 2500 years old.
The day was hot and sunny when we ate our fish burger for lunch at the town of Opononi, situated on the west coast harbour named Hokianga. from here, we travelled in a north-easterly direction, past volcanic peaks, similar to our Glasshouse mountains, though not as large.
We came at last to an area overlooking the Waitangi Treaty Grounds in the Bay of Islands. Here, at anchor, was a large cruise ship. Our accommodation for the next two nights was in a Youth Hostel in the nearby town of Paihia (pronounced "pie here").
Refreshed by a short nap, we strolled the short distance to the harbour at 6pm, where we sat for over an hour enjoying the peaceful scene; waves lapped gently below us, and occasional shafts of sunlight illumined features such as a small island and vessels in the harbour. When a swimmer emerged from the water and washed off the salt under a nearby shower, we asked how he found the water. Charles, a 70 year old retired lawyer on a month's visit from Anchorage was happy to sit and chat with us. He had seen military service in Vietnam in the mid-60s, before going to Law School. We had just farewelled Charles and our seat by the beach and the sun was setting when Rhonda rang.
Walking back toward our hostel we noticed Tina's cafe where we dined on a pleasant meal of chicken, pork and rice, garnished with salad and cashew nuts. Tomorrow, after our bus trip north, I would go for a swim in the bay. It did not happen. Our trip north was an all day - 12 hour - event. When we got back to Paihia, it was too late, and I was too weary, to go swimming.
Monday 4 March:
We were out waiting for the bus by 7.10. Fortune favoured us, inasmuch as our Awesome Adventures mini bus had broken down before it reached us, so we were accommodated on a large comfortable Fuller's bus! Picked up passengers at a number of centres, including the town of Kerikeri, "kitty kitty?" or "keareekearree?". John described this area as similar to Mt Tamborine in appearance - not as elevated, but a rich fruit-growing sub-tropical area - macadamia nuts, persimmons, olives citrus, kiwi fruit. Because the area experiences strong winds, here, as in many parts of the country, perimeter fence-lines are planted with tall, neatly trimmed shrubs or trees that act as windbreaks.
Our driver today was John Goss. He was friendly and informed. He spoke about the imported species which have caused so much damage to the indigenous plants and birds of NZ - possums, rats, etc; how Maori settlers arrived in N.Z. about 800 years ago, circa 1223; how, for the first 300 years they feasted on moa, before hunting these giant 250kg birds to extinction; how the Maori people introduced sweet potato; how they gave Tasman, in Dec 1642, a hard time, killing 3 of his crew.
We drove north, toward the east coast area named Doubtless Bay by Captain Cook. Then it was westward and down onto the shoreline mapped by Tasman in 1642. He had charted the 90km beach, which it is thought that Cook erroneously transcribed as 90 miles, by which name it is known today. Our bus travelled along this beach on the hard wet sand; on our left hand side, the surf roared and broke; on the right, high, sparsely-vegetated sandhills stretched away northward, as far as the eye could see. I was told that the grey of the sky, the blue-grey of the water, the muted colours of beach and sand hills stretched away into a distance where the vanishing point was hidden by sea mist.
We drove on, mile after mile, apparently without change - giving rise to a sense of something profound - eternity? We passed few singular sights - a woman walking eight dogs on leashes, another riding a horse, an abandoned vehicle in the surf. Eventually, we came to a place where flocks of seagulls had been attracted by tens of thousands of pippies which lay exposed on the sand. They were having a fine feast. Here we stopped, and our driver encouraged those interested to dig for live shellfish. Nearby, midden heaps attested to the consumption of these shellfish over many centuries by Maori settlers. Here also there was a rocky island just off the coast, and a little further on, a patch of rock which we avoided by driving through shallow water. Vehicles, including tour buses have been caught here by an incoming tide, so timing of the drive along this beach highway can be critical.
A short distance beyond this bluff, we left the beach. To ensure we remained on firm sand, our driver turned into a small freshwater creek named Te Paki, and drove upstream. By this means, we passed through the maze of sandhills paralleling the coast, some upwards of 150 metres in height. Once we reached a point where the stream had gentle banks of clay and soil, we moved onto a gravel track and stopped. To do so sooner would have resulted in us becoming bogged, and in need of a large powerful tractor owned by one of the nearby landholders to pull us free.
From this point, it was a short run of about 30 minutes past paddocks in which sheep and cattle grazed together, to our lunch stop.
We were at Cape Reinga, high above these waters, near a 10 metre high light-house, whose light is 186 metres above sea level.The trig station noted, inter alia, that we were at 34' 25" degrees south, 172' 45" " East, and some 1066 miles from Australia. (Wollongong is situated at about this same latitude. The 38th parallel, close to Melbourne's location, passes to the south of Auckland, through centres such as New Plymouth, Hamilton and Gisborne.)
Before printing commenced, the size of the print run, ie, the number of books to be produced, was determined. If, for example, 1200 books were to be produced, then 1200 copies of each set of pages were run off the printing press before that plate was taken apart, and the process of assembling each word, each line, each page for another set was commenced.
From here, our bus took us the 1.5km to the northern tip of N.Z., where the waters of the Tasman Sea and the Pacific Ocean meet in a swirling maelstrom.
Just offshore is a large rock, on which grows a pohutukawa tree - said to be the "stepping off" point of Maori spirits on their journey northward to their ancestral home.
Tuesday 5 March: Chance for a short sleep in! No bus to catch at an early hour - required to book out of the hostel by 10. We walked the few hundred metres to the ferry terminal where we took the fast boat - a hydrofoil catamaran to the historic village of Russell. On Sunday, when we had arrived at the hostel, this trip had been recommended to us by a German tourist. Our ferry ride across the harbour took less than ten minutes. My GPS unit indicated we reached a speed of 60kph. I had thought this place to be an island, but there is no easy access to this peninsula by land.
We decided against the $29 mini bus tour around landmarks in favour of walking to them, admiring the timber buildings dating from the 1840s. There was very little traffic. I enjoyed the hushed silence. We walked along The Strand, where there was just the gentle lap of an occasional wave.
Within a short distance, we came to a large two storey building that was open for inspection. This was the French Mission House established in 1835 by the Marist Bishop Pompallier. He became a friend to the local Maori people, wrote down their language, and began publishing prayer books in the local language. Though not present at the signing of the treaty between Maori and the English crown, Bishop Pompallier had participated in the early negotiations, and was regarded as a strong advocate by/for the Maori.
The house is set in extensive grounds, on the edge of the harbour; it is very much as it was when first built, though some timbers have been restored. Walls are of rammed earth, timber floors are probably kauri. An owner in the recent past has planted the grounds with a riot of English flowers.
Claire was our very knowledgeable guide; she explained how the house had been set up to produce books for use by the indigenous people. This included all aspects of production. On the ground floor, and at the rear of the premises, there were pits and vats which had been used in turning raw animal skins into fine leather for book covers. This was a process which could take up to 12 months. Skins were immersed in foul-smelling liquids, progressing from mildly acidic urine to the concentrated action of wattle bark imported from Australia. It was said that urine was purchased from those who were "piss poor". Skins were scraped on a slanted board, using a two handed blade, to remove wool or hair, plus any residual fat or flesh. They were pounded and pommelled until soft and pliable, then cut and trimmed. Pieces ill-suited for book binding were retained for use in making shoes and boots and all manner of leather products from belts to laces.
The actual printing press was located on the upper floor, for several reasons. By an ingenious system, the entire weight of the roof structure of the house could be focussed via a large wooden beam, and thus utilised in the printing process. Another reason for locating this equipment upstairs was security. The letters were all made of lead which, if stolen, could be melted down for use as ammunition - a highly prized commodity.
We were shown the large wooden trays containing all the letters of the alphabet, neatly placed in their separate compartments; one tray contained only capital letters; it was the "upper case". In another, the lower case, were the non capital letters. Each line of type had to be set in its frame, letter by letter; workers were cautioned to "watch their 'p's and 'q's, when setting type, given their similarity.
If a mistake was made, each letter had to be slid out of its frame and the spelling corrected; once a line was completed, it was locked in place using a small wooden wedge called a coin, from whence comes the expression - "to coin a phrase". A complete page of print was called "a chase", and production staff were keen to "cut to the chase".
When a page had been prepared, it was printed once, so that it could be proof-read and any errors were then corrected. Pages were so arranged that a set of 16 were printed on a single sheet of paper. This was then folded and stitched with thread to other sets to create a book.
Before printing commenced, the size of the print run, ie, the number of books to be produced, was determined. If, for example, 1200 books were to be produced, then 1200 copies of each set of pages were run off the printing press before that plate was taken apart, and the process of assembling each word, each line, each page for another set was commenced.
John and I wandered around the small town of Russell, looking at the lovely wooden buildings, including a church, that dated back to the 1840s. We bought meat pies for lunch before catching a slow ferry back to Paihia. We enjoyed a pot of tea at the ferry terminal, overlooking the harbour then walked back to our hostel to pick up our gear, and just after 4pm, boarded our mini bus for the trip back to Auckland. Once again, Alan was our driver. We stopped for a comfort break at Wellsford, arriving in Auckland just on 8pm, after a journey of 320km. Prabhash and Desika met us in the city and drove us to the house at Beach Haven. The young couple had already moved their bedding and belongings into their rented studio apartment, whence they returned.
END PART ONE OF THE TERRY AND JOHN'S NEW ZEALAND TRAVELS
