Life's a Stitch

Our next port was Napier, the Art Deco city. The city's architecture was "revitalized" after the great earthquake of 1931. What survived the quake, burned to the ground. The municipal  powers-that-be took advantage of the opportunity to start from scratch.  They researched current architectural style and liked the Deco design that allowed them to incorporate motifs, including Maori art, into the building facades and provided more earthquake-proof construction.

The city has a Great Gatsby vibe with a few modern touches.

I have to tell you a story. As a tourist I have racked up many miles on the ocean. If you follow this blog you know my favourite part is 1500 miles at sea,  in the middle of an ocean, no land in sight, a total release of control of one's  environment. Prior to leaving port there is a mandatory muster drill where you line up near your assigned lifeboat and receive emergency instructions. It starts with "you will hear seven blasts of the emergency signal…"

I'd never had the opportunity to hear this emergency signal in reality until this trip one night early on in the cruise, at 1:37 a.m., when we awoken by those seven blasts. We heard the announcement that the ship's first responders were attending to an emergency situation onboard, and that staff were to report to their emergency stations, passengers to stand by. That'll wake you up pretty quickly. I asked C where the life jackets were located, apparently not having paid enough attention at muster. I've been on ships where there where medical emergency evacuations via small boat or helicopter, and figured that's what was going on. They must have blown the emergency signal so we wouldn't be distressed at the sound of a helicopter in the middle of the night. Wrong.

Ten minutes later the next announcement: there was smoke detected in the ship's generator, that all appears under control, but please wait for further news. I reminded C that it sounded like what those on the Titanic were told. How do you go to back to sleep with that reassuring message? It's OK, keep dancing, pay no attention to those loud sounds. 

Five more minutes: all is well, staff may return to their cabins. Phew. Everything seems magnified through the haze of sleep. I appreciate the warning though, fire being the worst hazard at sea, and I'm glad to report that it won't deter us from future voyages.

I'm happy to say that we lived to tell the tale and today is our 35th wedding anniversary. We were celebrated in advance onboard by the staff singing their traditional Indonesian congratulatory song.

 

Riding back through the Marlborough wine country to the airport in Blenheim, we left the magical South Island by prop jet to Aukland.

We'll board Holland America's Noordam in the afternoon. The sailing  of our ship was moved up to an earlier time so there was no room for delay or we'd have had to board at a port farther in our itinerary at our own expense. They gave tides as the reason, but C questions that, having worked in the shipping industry he knows that the tides are something that don't typically change suddenly. Fortunately public transport to the pier was quick and easy.

The first stop the next day was one of my favourites, the beach community of Tauranga, about a three hour drive south of Auckland. It felt like a small to medium size town, but it has a population of 137,900 and is the fifth largest city in New Zealand. At breakfast we caught a shadow picture in the water of the ship, we're the two little dots close to the middle along the rail of the deck. C is waving. Take my word for it.

Many ports have  their "Marine Parade" or "Mall" the waterfront street that parallels the ocean, most lined with huge Norfolk Pines, but the two in Tauranga were particularly beautiful with public beaches and the Mount Maunganu, an extinct volcano at the end.

The Mount park has a level tree lined walk along the base and steeper trails with sheep dotted pasture land.

I'm afraid Vancouver's Stanley Park has a rival. Seriously, I've thought that our Vancouver area is possibly the most beautiful part of the world, but this has similar appeal without the rainfall.

(11-06 & 11-07-17)

 

Last night's sleep was really good. Lulled by the sound of the water in the bay it was like sleeping on a ship, only better still, it wasn't moving. Brekkie was once again, an OSM bar and yogurt. The owner of the resort dropped us off at the track, saving us we figured an additional 90 minutes of uphill walking on a narrow asphalt road.

The most beautiful day yet on the Queen Charlotte Track.

Reasonable ups and downs and some geocaching thrown in for more fun. C pointed out this trip has included all my favourites: hiking, geocaching, painting and knitting. Met up with Norm, from the Colorado couple. Lynette went ahead by water taxi as her knee was bothering her. Have to admire her fortitude hiking two days five months post knee replacement.

Arrived in Anakiwa, the end of our four day New Zealand tramp, and feasted on potato chips while waiting for the water taxi back to Picton. The available flavours were chicken, salt and vinegar or “salt added," our choice. 

Although short as compared to our previous treks, the Queen Charlotte Track was worth the hauling of an entire suitcase of hiking gear on our flights. The surroundings are exotically beautiful, and although consistently hilly, it's not a difficult track. The five day experience cost more than we are used to, but for those of you coming from the US, the NZ dollar is strongly in your favour. Even the Canadian dollar provided a slight advantage. 

Back in Picton, continuing our habit of travelling through our taste buds, I was determined to try fresh green lipped mussels. At home I've only experienced the frozen, imported variety. C ordered blue cod and I the mussels. He convinced me to get a large order and we could share our plates. The large bowl held about 20 5” green mussels (laid end to end, that’s 100 inches of mussel!), some with white meat and some orange (male and female). They were served in a light garlic and white wine sauce. I generally like mussels, but these were much different from their wee blue cousins of the northern hemisphere. They tasted like steamed calamari, but with a stringy and chewy texture. Probably won’t order them again, but I hear they taste better topped with cheese and bacon. This culinary experimentation didn’t work out as well as our time with percebes (goose barnacles) in Spain.

Tomorrow we fly to the North Island to Auckland and board our ship, which will circumnavigate New Zealand prior to heading across the Tasmin Sea to Tasmania and the Australian mainland.

(11-4-17)

Queen Charlotte track – Day 3 of hiking

Due to yesterday's torrential rain, our rest day and time limitations, we water taxied to Torea Saddle to begin the day's hike.

I did my honest best to convince C to take one of two alternative routes in order to avoid some 20+degree grades and 400 meters of elevation over 2 K. Nope. We’re sticking to the plan. I hate to admit that it wasn’t too bad. We’re getting stronger as our hike goes on.

The views were spectacular, but it was grey and cloudy with about an hour of light rain. Shamrock Ridge is the highest point on the Queen Charlotte Track.

The views from both sides of the ridge:

Back to those NZ sand flies, which are doing a good job of biting. Can’t figure out how they were named as there appears to be no sand, the beaches being rocky. The first night we could feel them biting, but no after effects. Must have hit our limits for histamine intake because now we each have a couple of dozen good sized itchy welts.  Turns out this particular variety of sand fly is located on the South Island and has a preference for penguin blood, but in their absence will settle for humans.  Met an Aussie who recommended we stop in a pharmacy when we get to civilization and get a super terrific antihistamine bug bite cream, Anthisan, available in NZ and Britain, not in Canada, the US or Australia. For now, our arnica gel seems to help. And next time, in the absence of the ability to carry along a penguin as sand fly bait, we will do a better job of planning for repellant.

After 4.5 hours we arrived at Te Mahia for our last night on the track. Located way off trail we enquired about a shuttle back. None here, she informed me, everyone walks it. I asked how old their average hiker is, trying to play the senior card. It comes in handy sometimes. Not this time apparently. It’s just we are pressed for time tomorrow, having to meet a water taxi at 3:30 after an estimated five hours of hiking in addition to this new bit, probably over an hour.

The place is dated, but clean with a well supplied kitchen, and positioned nicely on the beach with beautiful gardens. BUT, no restaurant. Just a “cafe” that serves frozen pizza, coffee and a few baked goods and a “grocery” with limited items for cooking in your room. We were offered a water taxi ride to a restaurant, but the fare would be $72 return, so I bought $4 cans of beans, tomatoes and a lump of frozen ground beef for “chili.” Also a $4 can of peaches for dessert and yogurt for brekkie. Arriving in the room we found a sprig of fresh rosemary on our basket of towels, so that’s going in there, too. A little later, some track magic: an herb garden on our patio and the offer of a ride to the track in the morning.

Yes, that's a peek of the expansive water view from the kitchen table. The view from our bed:

We made the effort to stay awake two hours after sundown for the chance to see more magic -  the famous NZ glow worms in their natural habitat, a rocky grotto located only a five minute walk away. Then we slept to the sound of gently lapping water on the beach right outside our window.

(11-3-17)

Can you imagine a rest day, after just two days of hiking? Last year our first rest day was after ten days! It was a good decision, though, given the torrential rain and heavy winds. Those scheduled to walk today skipped the next section due to slippery, wet, windy conditions with poor visibility and no chance of rewarding views. Remember yesterday’s view?

There were, however, five cyclists who pushed through, covered in mud when they stopped for lunch at Punga cove. I thought of the couple we met yesterday who were camping last night and planning on hiking today. Hope they found a dry spot along the way to sit out the bucketing rain.

Hot chocolate and a one square meal bar made a fine breakfast for storm watching from our dry cabin. These things fascinate me as they are light weight, nutritionally complete and they actually taste good. It must have been fun to be part of the team that developed them.

We eventually donned our rain gear and hit the dockside bar for lunch: a Punga Bay Special Pizza: venison salami, red peppers, mushrooms and shaved Parmesan. Ok, a step up from an OSM bar.

Still pouring, I spent the afternoon painting, recreating one of my spider web paintings with a NZ theme, using a leaf I found on yesterday’s trail. Yes, I’m once again toting art supplies, but part of the beauty of this track is the free pack transfer with the purchase of your water taxi round trip ticket. This falls definitively on the side of vacation hiking as opposed to the pilgrimage experience we are accustomed to.

11/2/2017

Today was supposed to be the same distance, but much easier. Reminded us of a hike we did when we first arrived in Canada, one a neighbour told us we could do in our “high heeled slippers.” To hardcore BC and NZ trekkers, that translates to 10-20 degree inclines and gullible hikers. It wasn’t bad though, as compared to yesterday. Most of the way was hard packed clay over shale.

So far no blisters, but a small ankle bruise. Thinking back to last year’s Camino, with no foot issues, same toe socks, same boots, what’s the difference? Terrain. Lots thereof. Up, up, up, down, down, down. Repeat.

In 4.75 hours we only passed four others: a local woman with no pack out for a stroll in the middle of nowhere, a cyclist, and a young couple toting their camping gear for two nights along the track.

It was another beautiful hike in perfect weather, serenaded by exotic-to-us birds. When Captain Cook stayed on the island, his shipboard naturalist, John Banks, said “Their voices were certainly the [most] melodious wild music I have ever heard, almost imitating small bells but with the most tuneable silver sound imaginable.” When I get better reception I’ll upload some of the video that includes the singing birds.

We arrived at Punga Cove where we booked a small a-frame cottage for our two night stay. We were upgraded to a larger cabin. Although requiring a slog further up the hill the view was spectacular.

It’s spring here, too early for summer crowds, so there were only eight of us booked into Punga Cove, all of whom were hanging out at the dock bar before climbing that last uphill. There was the usual interesting trail conversation. Where are you from? There was an older couple from Australia and the couple from Colorado from last night, Norm and Lynette, who was not yet five months post knee replacement. We compared our sand fly experiences and got recommendations on effective local products to deal with our minor, but annoying misery. Apparently the worst effects of the bites are yet to come.

Dinner was at the only restaurant, further up the hill. We generally practice frugal travel and dining out habits, but this segment has unintentionally worked out to be a first class glamping (glamorous tramping) experience. I’m not complaining, but can’t get used to it. We ate lamb two ways and fresh monkfish accompanied by an excellent $12 glass of house wine, from the local Marlborough region. Back at the cabin, we had another glass from our toted along California juice box wine stash, a letdown for these spoiled brat hikers. Tomorrow is our scheduled rest day.

15-20k depending upon whose gps you trust.

When reading the official website this sentence keeps coming to mind: “the QCT is not so much a steep track, but a long one…” I want to meet the person who wrote that as I believe they reversed their descriptors. It should read it is not a long track, but a steep one.

We boarded the water taxi at 9:00am. The journey started with a bang and a jolt as the skipper gunned the engines without realizing that the ropes were still in place, the fore end of the boat smacking into the dock. That wasn’t a comforting moment, but was soon forgotten as we made stops along the way, delivering restaurant supplies to lodges without road access. We were reminded of our years when C was Executive Director and I was relief cook at Camp Fircom on Gambier Island, BC, also accessible only  by boat.

We took a brief detour to investigate a pod of dolphins.

Then we were dropped at Ships Cove, a long dock leading into a hole in the jungle, where the Track began.

We took brief detour to the Captain Cook monument and a stop at the flush toilets, the last ones we’ll see along the hiking portion of the track for a couple of days. It was a simple pleasure right in the middle of nowhere.

Then we started out on our hiking adventure. The first hour is quite a steep upward grade through the jungle with beautiful birdsong. It reminded me of a cross between Hawaii and our own BC rain forest.

I’m going to have to look up synonyms for uphill, steep, inclines, grades and elevation. Get the picture? What went up did come down in the same manner. Not like our Caminos, going in and out of civilization, these were remote jungle trails with walls of rock, clay and ferns on one side, steep drop offs on the other, and the reward of spectacular views along the way. Today’s two hill day, calculating baby steps over loose rock, was exhausting.

We met “trampers” from Bremen, Australia, the US and and a class of 40 maybe grade 9 students, out for a five day camping trip with their teacher and a couple of volunteer moms. It was the German girl’s 20th birthday and within minutes of her actual birth time she reached into her backpack and shared a piece of cake she baked last night at the backpacker’s hostel, celebrating at the top of the world on the QCT.

After 5.5 hours we arrived at Furneau Lodge where we booked backpacker rather than resort accommodation, a series of small rooms with either a double bed or four bunks, linens, kettle, coffee and tea included. Shared bath was similar to a provincial park campground with hot showers. It ended up as a private bath as we were the only ones booked into the backpacker’s.

Dinner in the dining room was very good, NZ pricey, but includes tax and tip: $38 entrees, $10 bread basket, $10 glasses of wine, $18 egg brekkie. We kept to our budget by ordering entree and wine for dinners and sticking to pack food for breakfast and lunch: OSM (one square meal) bars, protein bars, baby belle cheeses wrapped in wax, smoked beer sausages and fruit or carrots.

We were pleasantly surprised that our less expensive room was waterfront instead of behind the others back in the woods. It was a comfortable spot except for the actively biting sand flies and we overlooked bug spray. Oops. Time for sleep.

Wifi, finally, so here starts coverage of our big down under adventure: a four day trek on New Zealand’s Queen Charlotte Track followed by a 15 day cruise around NZ then over to Australia.

I was so apprehensive about the hike, given that the plan was to fly 14 hours on Oct 29, on the red eye to Auckland, followed by a four hour layover and another two hour flight to Blenheim, have a night’s sleep and hike a steep 15k the very next day, jet lag and all. I generally don’t sleep on planes, but luckily, if available, Air NZ puts remaining higher class seats on auction and notifies you of your success just prior to the flight. Three hours ahead we found out we were lucky auction “winners” and what a difference that made.

It wasn’t business class with the sleeping pods, but the in between premium section that reminds me of old fashioned first class – larger roomy leather seats with fuller recline and foot rests, nice food and wine. It was well worth the difference to be able to rest and even get some sleep. When you think, though, that we crossed the international date line which made us skip a day, the time difference is only five hours albeit on different days. Totally confusing, eh? So, if it’s noon here on Wednesday, it’s 5:00pm at home, only at home it’s Tuesday, and since every day is Saturday in retirement, what difference does it make what day it is? The point is we were in good shape for the next day’s hike.

At the Auckland Airport our hiking equipment was inspected for potential items harmful to NZ’s environment: seeds, insects… They are making a conscious effort to bring the country back to its original natural state, free from foreign predators and invasive plants species. My boots were given a complimentary bath, returned to me in pristine condition, free of any spores from our recent mushroom hunting back home.

In Blenheim we picked up our ride to Picton, driving past the famous Marlborough vineyards and in the distance, green hills dotted with sheep. We checked into our motel with kitchenette and hit the grocery store for last minute hiking provisions and dinner ingredients: lamb leg steaks, asparagus, pre-prepared risotto and a bottle of NZ wine.

 

Amazing what you can do with one frying pan and fresh local ingredients. So ended our super long 24 or was that a 48 hour day? In the morning the plan is to catch the early water taxi to Ships Cove, Captain Cook’s favourite resting spot and the start of the Queen Charlotte Track.

A direct flight from the Pacific Northwest leaving on a fall evening, arrives 14 hours later in New Zealand, but it's spring, and the calendar tells us it's two days later. Tricky thing when you cross the dateline and land in another hemisphere. C and I are on the last segment of our time as drifters before reality sets in regarding the budget and timing of our house rebuild.

We're on our way to our sixth continent, the only one remaining on my map of geocaching destinations being Antarctica. That one, so far, hasn't made my  travel dream list, but who knows?  This trip to Australia and New Zealand has been at the top of the list for many years. It's a good thing we booked non-refundable fares prior to discovering recent un-budgeted cost overruns on the house, but that's another story that I'll gladly avoid for now.

Not sure it was going to happen, for awhile there, as C was scheduled for his 2nd followup CT angiogram in the eight years post bypass surgery. Such good news – no changes in his arteries for the past five years. He's cleared for travel and we're on our way. The first stop will be a five day adventure tramping (NZ Verb: the recreational activity of going for long-distance walks in rough country) on the Queen Charlotte Track, located on New Zealand's south island. Next is a two week cruise around New Zealand, ending with four ports in Australia. 

I'll blog when I can, otherwise it's a three week break. For now, I leave you with a misty autumn painting of the Cascade mountains. It's been an exceptionally beautiful, colourful fall here in the Pacific Northwest.

 

M & KC received their wedding proofs at the same time she received the surprise photo book that we made of the unbeknownst to them behind the scenes photo booth. Each room in the inn had a large jacuzzi tub positioned right in the middle of the bedroom. As much socializing took place in-room, the tub became overflow, so to speak, seating. As one of their friends was sitting on the edge of the tub he accidentally slipped in. A photo was snapped and thus began the wedding photo booth. KC's mom was an excellent wrangler getting people to participate throughout the weekend.

The later the night went on, the more "creative" were the pictures, 40 in all.

If you want to see more you'll have to come visit us or M&KC, laughter is guaranteed.

Now for some official proofs, thanks to Cocktail Pbotography for preserving these wonderful memories.